Confession: I Like Television

Yes, it's true. I like television.

 Well, I actually seriously hate most television, and most of the television I don't hate I still don't love. I loved the British Life on Mars, and I still very much like Justified. Oh, and of course Breaking Bad, which it seems academic dudes must love. I have opinions of all of these shows that I'll perhaps share with you in coming weeks, but my opinions of the shows I love are, I think, a lot less interesting than the ones about the shows I think are okay.

 Which brings me to Falling Skies. Fortunately, as the owner of a Tivo, I don't often need to choose which one television show to watch at a given time (and of course Ye Olde Internette makes it easy to catch something you missed). This is good in the case of Falling Skies, since I'm pretty sure I'd miss if it it were up against any of the many shows I like more, e.g. ... oh I don't know ... Wipeout or whatever. I watch it because it doesn't keep me from catching Impractical Jokers.

 To watch science fiction on TV in this decade means getting past the standard objection of "I can't believe they cancelled Firefly while this show keeps on going (can you say Eureka?). At some point you just gotta let it go. Besides, if Firefly had lasted, we might never have gotten to see Castle.

 That was a joke, mostly. But yeah, I watch Castle.

 Okay, so Falling Skies. It has Will Patton, who was great in the highly underrated sans-gills Costner flick The Postman and also played the only interesting character in Armageddon (aside from William Fichtner, I guess). On the other hand, it has Noah Wyle in the lead, and I'm sorry, but I just don't find him credible. Am I alone in this? I keep waiting for Bob Newhart to show up and summon him back to the Library.

 Another thing I kind of hate about the show is the My Three Sons rivalry thing (there are three of them, right? Most people under 25 pretty much look alike to me). These scenes frankly give off a Home Improvement vibe. That said, I do kind of like the premise, though on the other hand I kind of hate all the CGI. So it's a tossup all the way around. I wouldn't pass up a good show to watch it, but watch I do, and will.

But I thought The River was better. And maybe Alcatraz.

In praise of Gladys Kravitz

Before there was Lenny Kravitz, before there was even The Jeffersons, on which Lenny Kravitz's mom appeared, thus providing me with a halfarsed link between this pointless allusion and the wonderful world of situation comedies, there was the archetypal meddling neighbor Gladys Kravitz. I just watched Bewitched for the first time in many years (not counting the terrible movie of the same name a few years back), and I have a few words to say about Gladys Kravitz.

First of all, who are we talking about when we speak of Gladys? People always want to argue about which Dick they prefer, York or Sargent, but fewer people will debate the relative merits of the two Kravoi, Alice Pearce and Sandra Gould. Pearce's Kravitz was brilliant and unproblematical in my opinion ... she was just a nosey, shrill, hysterical proto-Furley. The archetypal Gladys. Gould, who Kravitzed the episode I just watched, is different. Strangely attractive when she's not overshadowed by Elizabeth Montgomery, and not blessed with the hilarious facial expressions and brilliant slapstick timing of her predecessor, she brings another layer to the character.

With the first Gladys, we feel somewhat bad for husband Abner, even though he's a loser, just because his wife is so annoying. With the second, though, Abner's sterotypical long-suffering husband schtick crosses right over into verbal abuse, and the smirking Stevens' mock-innocent shrugging as Gladys "Cassandra" Kravitz tries to blow the whistle on their satanic hijinks smacks of cruelty.

Because, of course, she's right. Samantha is a witch, and her family is a whole pack of witches, (a coven if you will). Admittedly, as a former wacky neighbor myself, I have more than average sympathy for my fellow WNs ... but I think Gladys's reputation is undeserved. What if your next door neighbor were a witch? Wouldn't you try to tell people about it? I say Gladys is a hero!

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Back when I was teaching, I was once talking about witches in connection with "Young Goodman Brown" and a student announced that his sister-in-law was a witch. "There's no such thing as witches," I replied. "I mean, can she fly?" If you're a wiccan, earth goddess worshipper, etc., more power to you, but if you can't fly, you ain't a witch in my book.

Of course, this was at the same university where I once drew the five pointed star, the "sign of Solomon" from Sir Gawain's shield, on the blackboard, and a student in the front row flinched--actually flinched. I said, "Did you think I was going to summon forth a demon from the blackboard? Really? Do you think that if I could summon demons out of the blackboard, there wouldn't be demons running all over this place by now?"

No sense of humor, some of these people. Maybe they should watch some sitcoms.

I'm baaaaaaaack!

Back in the saddle again? Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves ... I've missed doing this, probably more than anybody missed reading it. Look: if you know me at all, and you do, or you wouldn't be reading this, surely, unless you're one of the two or three people a day who get here by googling Karen Allen or something (why?), you know that I'm in general not a reliable correspondent ... but I'm going to try to write at least weekly. Hell, it got me through my dissertation, am I right? (Hi Murray).

I know that the themeless rant blog is passe (sorry about the missing accent), but I still don't really have a concept in mind aside from, as I've said before, the random conversation I'd have with students before class started, back when I was in the classroom ... or, let's face it, the monologue with which I'd waste the first few minutes of class. Not wasting ... building rapport. Establishing a positive learning environment. If you will.

Anyhow, I'm shooting for once a week at least, and I'm not going to talk about work. That's about it.

Oh, and I've been watching Justified, and it's not too bad.

Trust me--I'm a doctor ...

... although I must admit I'm not a physician per se. I was washing my hands in the men's room today, as is my wont (which ought to mean, but doesn't mean, that I wont wash my hands in the men's room).

Oh, Apostrophe! We cannot contract without thee.

Anyhow, when I wash my hands I like to pretend that I'm Trapper John ... M.D., that is--not Hawkeye's cooler sidekick, but the competent surgeon whose sidekick was George Alonzo "Gonzo" Gates in a show I never once watched willingly. Which is to say, I wash my hands. With soap. Including the wrists. Often up to the elbow, as if I'm preparing to deliver a breached calf. Though I guess that would make me Trapper John, D.V.M.

...


I'm trying to work my way around to a BVM quip, but holy cow, I can't get there from here(tic).

So I'm in the can, washing my hands religiously, not the holy water dip but really cleaning them, because other people touch stuff I touch, and other people are often disgusting, when I see the sign on the mirror telling me to Fight the Flu by washing my hands. Because if you use soap long enough, you kill the bacteria.

Now I'm not a physician. Per se. But I'm pretty sure that with the flu we're talking about a virus, not a bacterium. I guess I should keep my mouth shut, though, and let people be scared into washing their hands, because after all, they go around touching the same stuff I touch. And I don't like it.

But I do like this:

Top o' the mornin'? To me?

The Today Show crue is in "Ireland" now, and sure and begorrah, were they offensive this morning. My theory is that the worse the economy is, the more Americans throw themselves into St. Patrick's Day. Where are the media analysts and cultural critics who will analyze this phenomenon (do doo, do do do) for me?

So they met Obama's Irish 8th cousin today. 8th cousin. I'm not a genealogist, but I'm descended from some (I slay me), and it seems to me that everybody's pretty much everybody else's eighth cousin (or less). Ridiculous. And the Irish Obama song was fun before the election, but dammit, the election is over. Today Show, quit campaigning for him already. How about holding his feet to the fire about these bailouts? Nah ... instead we'll walk around the gardens of "Ireland."

Are you wondering what the quotation marks around Ireland were for up there? Are you eager to jump on me for using them for emphasis? Well, sorry. I say "Ireland" to refer to the place where American telejournalists go in March. I would love to go to that "Ireland." It looks so simple, with people living amongst sheep and all. They presumably whittle their soap and all that.
Wear sweaters and cool tweed caps. That would be cool. I could live like that. Does "Ireland" even have electricity?

I think it must be a lot like the magical kingdom of OZ.

And really, who cares about the real Ireland, if there is such a thing? It's probably way too complicated.