It’s not a secret that I’m a television snob. Save for Jersey Shore, I don’t really watch bad television. Sounds like an oxymoron, sort of – all television could be considered bad – but I try stick with quality and support shows I feel merit their own existence.* A couple of weeks ago I polled Twitter and asked what show I should watch after I finished Modern Family (which is so fucking brilliant). A few people suggested Gossip Girl, which I had never been interested in before but knew had many many hot boys so I was willing to give it a chance. Well, I’ve watched it. All of it. All three seasons.

It is terrible. No really, it is one of the most terrible shows I have ever seen in my entire life. The plot lines are not only stolen from other shows, but they are recycled, over and over. People date each other, people lie to each other, people hate each other, people do bad things when they meant to do good things, etc. And they cause their own problems. Always. There is never an issue they are confronted with that couldn’t be easily solved, but no – that’d be too easy. They have to exacerbate it, yet I’m supposed to empathize with them? That’s hard enough when they are all worth more than my life. Pshaw.

Serena – Someone kill this leggy bitch, please. I hate her pursed lips, her frizzy hair, her constantly rolling eyes. I hate her seedy past, I hate how she always lies about everything to everyone and the reason is ALWAYS FUCKING STUPID, yet she always wants someone to trust her, or gets her thong in a bunch when someone questions her or doubts her. I think the real reason I hate her so passionately is because we’re not supposed to. We’re not supposed to view her as the antihero – that’s Blair. We’re supposed to root for Serena, cheer her on and laugh that adorable laugh with her. Fuck. that. I hope this show ends the same way The L Word did, with her playing the part of Jenny Schecter.

Blair – See, you’re supposed to hate Blair, but I don’t. Because she’s honest. She’s like ‘fuck you I’mma do me‘, and that’s it. I don’t like her, but I don’t hate her either.

Jenny – Hate her. Scheming little tart. But, at least her story line is interesting. I’m supposed to hate her too, and I do. I hate her so much, and I knew I’d always hate her when she fucked with my honey Eric. And she has probably the best father, ever, and shits all over him too. It’s more than teenage angst – she’s a little monster. She’s incredibly lucky and supremely ungrateful.

Nate – I don’t even know how I feel about him. He has horrible hair and beautiful eyes. He’s alright I guess.

Chuck – It really rubbed me the wrong way that everyone so quickly overlooked that he tried to rape Jenny in the first episode, and someone mentioned that he had two types of conquests – ‘willing’ and ‘not’. It was just accepted like “aw, he’s just Chuck! That’s what he does! Rape children!” But, later, I just couldn’t help but adore him. He’s my favorite character by far. Flawed and marvelous. Sexy, even though he looks like a narrow eyed gorilla. Every time he says “I’m Chuck Bass” my underwear seep off.

Dan – OMG SHUT UP. We get it, you’re smart and you’re quirky and you’re the perfect boy with your vinyls and books and not-too-tight but just tight enough jeans. But you’re annoying and judgmental and you say “uhhh” too much when talking and you don’t know how to handle women and you make the same mistakes over and over and I don’t like you. Just shut up.

Vanessa – YOU TOO. SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH. You self righteous ninny.

Georgina – DIAF. I’d start frothing at the mouth if I got into how much I hate her, so I’ll just leave it alone.

Biggest Pet Peeve – The Cellphones. Are you kidding me? How many times are they going to pull the “I have something so important to tell you but it just CAN’T wait but oh shit the phone just rang so the moment is ruined and I’ll not tell you now but try to explain later!” ploy? Also, how many important phone calls have been ignored, or hung up on? And why does no one check or return voicemails? JUST DON’T EVEN HAVE CELLPHONES! Not to mention that these supposedly rich as shit people have crappy flip phones (who uses those?!).

But, despite all of that, I can’t stop watching.  Although I recently found out that they are bumping down Chuck Bass to a recurring character, and making Georgina a main character. Chuck is the best thing on that show and less of him means more of SUCK and Georgina makes me want to pluck my eyes out so I may be able to forgo upcoming seasons without regret. We’ll see what else is on.

*My favorites of late: Justified and Treme.

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Listening to: Sting – When We Dance

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If you know me well, you know that I absolutely, unequivocally, unrepentantly love John Mayer. On many levels, as a person, as a musician, as a celebrity. I’ve been a fan of his for about a decade now, and my love has only grown throughout his career. I’ve never cared about his relationships, I’ve never paid that close of attention to his personal life; I’ve been satisfied looking at his pretty lips, reading articles (from real magazines, not gossip blogs), and listening to his music. If you look at my last.fm, he’s my number one overall everything on every chart. That’s saying quite a bit, because I listen to a lot of music. I honestly thought there’d be nothing he could to that would change my opinion of him, ever. The rest of the world labeled him a douchebag for little media snippets and soundbites, while I appreciated his candidness, the fact that he was willing to open himself up and say off the wall shit, knowing how those that hated him would perceive him. How he didn’t let that stop him from saying what was on his mind. I appreciated that. Until yesterday.

Yesterday, as I’m sure you know, (along with my feelings about it if you follow me on Twitter) an article on Playboy.com was released to the world, and many of his fans, me most definitely included, were shocked to read much of what he said. Things like this:

Someone asked me the other day, “What does it feel like now to have a hood pass?” And by the way, it’s sort of a contradiction in terms, because if you really had a hood pass, you could call it a nigger pass. Why are you pulling a punch and calling it a hood pass if you really have a hood pass? But I said, “I can’t really have a hood pass. I’ve never walked into a restaurant, asked for a table and been told, ‘We’re full.’”

I was just reeling from that. I re-read it a few times, like “did he seriously just say that? seriously?” Now I completely understand what he was trying to say. He was attempting to explain that he didn’t really have a hood pass (which is basically when black people love you so much, we almost consider you one of us) he’d be able to say the n-word. And since he can’t say that, he doesn’t really have one. He went on to explain that realizes white privilege but negated that by saying he identifies in a way with the black struggle, on a one-on-one level. He could have made that point without saying that word. He is white, and therefore he is not able to say that word without repercussions. Only black people, and sometimes not even black people, are able to say that word and obviously be devoid of racist intent. Therefore, no one else can say it, in my book. It doesn’t matter the context. You just do not say it. Period.

I don’t think I open myself to it. My dick is sort of like a white supremacist. I’ve got a Benetton heart and a fuckin’ David Duke cock. I’m going to start dating separately from my dick.

It’s no secret that I’ve said if given the opportunity, I’d make sweet, sweet groupie love to John Mayer. Something about him just does it for me. I think he’s gorgeous. But it didn’t bother me that he said he’s not physically attracted to women of color. I completely understand preferences, there are plenty of people that aren’t attracted to members of an opposite race. It was the way he said it. Comparing your dick to David Duke? Ugh. And he didn’t stop there, he went on to talk about the black women he does find attractive, managing to be even more offensive to women as a whole:

I always thought Holly Robinson Peete was gorgeous. Every white dude loved Hilary from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. And Kerry Washington. She’s superhot, and she’s also white-girl crazy. Kerry Washington would break your heart like a white girl. Just all of a sudden she’d be like, “Yeah, I sucked his dick. Whatever.” And you’d be like, “What? We weren’t talking about that.” That’s what “Heartbreak Warfare” is all about, when a girl uses jealousy as a tactic.

What the hell is white girl crazy?

I went deeper into the interview, but when he talked about Jessica Simpson as if all she were to him were a great piece of ass he enjoyed pounding, and then stopped himself short, not out of a realization he may offend her, but out of a respect for Jennifer Aniston, I couldn’t stomach anymore. I’m glad, because I was informed later that he went on to say more offensive things. To the point where I would believe him if he later claims to have been drunk or cracked out or something while giving the interview.

Yesterday, I was livid. I was hurt and disappointed and livid. I deleted everything scheduled to publish on Fuck Yeah! John Mayer, posted a snippet of the interview and left it at that. I was seriously tempted to delete the entire site but I realize how trigger happy I am, and how rash I can be, so I held off. I attempted to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my tickets to his show on March 15th, something I’ve been seriously looking forward to, for months. I wasn’t sure if I could go, if I could stomach listening to him trying to be clever and entertaining when I no longer felt him to be for that long, in person. Not only that, but much of the fun of going was being able to lust after him in person, and reading that article yesterday, immediately when I read that he said the n-word, all of that dissipated. As I went further into the interview, I was almost sad that I’d ever thought of him that way. My loins no longer ache at the thought of him, and his penis can continue on being a white supremacist.

As the day went on, I read his apology on Twitter and I believe it was genuine; he sounded completely defeated in those few lines, but he only apologized for the use of that word. He didn’t apologize for the misogyny, for the homophobic slurs, for the other offensive quotes. He should have apologized for the interview as a whole.

I talked to a friend about it, in depth, a fellow John Mayer fan and woman of color. Neither us believe John Mayer is a racist. He’s not a racist. He just really lacks that brain to mouth filter that most people have developed I believe he’s become so jaded with how he perceives himself in the media, that he says crazy things to deflect how fragile his ego probably really is and to prevent an interviewer, a paparazzo, a twitter follower, whomever, from being able to get under his skin before he can get under it himself. I do not know him of course, but this is just what I’ve felt. We both decided that we would sit and wait, we would watch closely what he did between now and forever to make this right, what he’d say, how he’d act. We’d hold off on our boycott of him completely, tossing out his music and everything else to do with him for a little while. I thought about how angry I was at Michael Vick – how angry I still am – but reading his apology after he was released made me realize that it was alright to let him continue on with his life and make something positive come out of this. I thought about how I’d easily forgiven Chris Brown for the physical damage he did to Rihanna. Those things were so much worse than this – this was a mistake of much lesser proportions.

This morning in my email I had a link to John Mayer’s apology last night at his Nashville show. I watched, and saw that man standing in front of thousands of people, so vulnerable, fighting back his tears  with that nervous tick, pulling on his fingers and attempting to make some sort of amends, I was touched. I’ve maintained the entire time that he didn’t mean to offend, but that it didn’t take away from what he said.

So now, I’m not sure how I feel anymore. A little piece of my heart broke yesterday, the wind was completely taken out of my sails, which may sound silly but I really don’t care. I connected to him through his music and it hurts that he was so callous, almost like it would if these things were said in a blog post written by one of you – my friends. I still don’t know if I’ll be going to that show on March 15th. I thought yesterday that if I could separate his music from his person, like I can Michael Richards from Kramer when I watch Seinfeld reruns, that I could still go. My tickets are non-transferable, non-refundable and I spent much too much money on them, but I don’t think that’s possible. Maybe in between now and then, as my head levels, as I stop being angry, I’ll be able to appreciate him as a person again and have no qualms about going. I’m unsure.

All I know is while I’m still perturbed, I’m not as angry today as I was yesterday. I’m taking a breather from him and his music for awhile. Hopefully, I can get around this – never over it – and continue on with my fandom. Time will tell.

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I don’t watch bad tv. I mean, I don’t watch what is usually considered bad television, I think. I don’t do any reality tv – at all – the last reality show I watched was I Love New York and how many years ago was that? Many years ago. Like before my kids could speak in complete sentences.

I don’t want much comedy because I’m of the opinion that most of it sucks. I stick with drama and I’m picky about what networks I’ll watch my dramas on – because of my stuffiness with networks, I missed out on the treasure that is Supernatural for these past few years and I feel like I’ve not lived because I just watched all 4 1/2 seasons in the span of a week – oh yes I did, 5 years of a show in ONE WEEK because I was that in love.

I just finished listening to my boyfriend and his best friend’s podcast, and he had my lovely love Miss on as a guest this week. And she totally shot down Jersey Shore and said I was going to get her for it. I will not. I totally understand. I hate how people watch these shitty shows and keep them on the air. I’m like, ugh, this is why GOOD shows get canceled – because you dumbfucks watch these crappy reality programs because you’re IDIOTS. You assholes and your stupid scripted reality have cost me Pushing Daises, Journeyman, and a slew of other stellar programs. And why the fuck doesn’t MTV play music videos anymore?!

It pisses my guts, I swear.

BUT

I love Jersey Shore. Okay? Okay.

I didn’t start watching Jersey Shore until 4 episodes in. I could not get rid of it, it was everywhere, so I tweeted about it, asking if I should check it out. The response was overwhelmingly YES. So I did. And OhmygodYES.

It’s amazing. It’s just amazing. The fact that these people exist, in real life, and these things happen, and these situations – and The Situation – are real, are actually real, it’s breathtaking. I’m allowed to have a guilty pleasure. This is it.

Jersey Shore is amazing. It’s as simple as that. I’m ready for Season Two.

P.S. I’m with Conan. See you in September, buddy.

P.P.S. There’s a photo of me in my underwear on BlogHer. Who’s RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS?!

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From the first time I paid attention to him, over a decade ago now, I’ve thought he was genius. He has a way of seeing and interpreting movies that not many other people possess. Even when I disagree with him, I still see his points. And he’s right on with this answer from his Answer Man column about kids and film. I’m determined to make sure my girls enjoy all kinds, see all kinds. I decide what is appropriate for them, not the corrupt and ridiculous MPAA and most of what’s out for kids right now, in America, is crap. Entertaining crap, but crap nonetheless.

______________________________________

Q. My 8-year-old son Andrew has taken an interest in my movie collection. We’ve been watching movies atypical for someone that young: “Rushmore,” “Spellbound” (the spelling bee documentary), “The Right Stuff,” “Tell No One” (with subtitles no less!) and this past Friday, a movie near and dear to you: “Dark City.”

It appears that kids can handle complex characters and story lines better than we think. Very rarely do I have to explain what was going on, and his comments indicate that he is getting it (during “Rushmore”: “Sometimes Max is not nice, but I like him”; on the ending of “Dark City,” “He knows all about her, but she doesn’t know about him!”)

What strikes me the most is how “natural” cinematic grammar is understood by children. No one has to sit down and explain things like cutaways, flashbacks, dream sequences, POV shots and the passage of time in films. How do they learn this stuff? Also, do you think the thematic material in the movies I listed is too much for 8-year-olds, or can I continue to brag and bore my friends?
Mike Spearns, St. Johns, Newfoundland

A. Start bragging. IMHO, kids up until about the age of 11 are more open to good movies than they will be again for some years, unless they fall prey to the deadening effect of peer pressure. A kid knows, as any adult does, that “Twilight” is a crashing bore. I suspect many teenagers like it because they have been ordered to by their peers.

Younger children instinctively love a Miyazaki animated film more than the meaningless action of films like “Monsters vs. Aliens” or “Kung Fu Panda.” They’re open to the magic. Later, some seem to need to be battered by noise and chaos.

I’ve never met a preschooler who did not respond well to silent comedy. A film critic friend of mine and his novelist wife raised their daughter on nothing but good films, and so she developed such good taste that she never has been able to stomach visual junk food.

As for understanding the language, the grammar of film seems to have evolved directly from the instincts of the first filmmakers. It requires no theory to understand the difference between a closeup and a long shot, or that a dream sequence is a dream sequence. A good movie contains all the instructions you need about how to watch it. This is true of the greatest films. Only junk like “Transformers 2″ requires an instruction manual.

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in television shows has become a problem.
I mean, not really – it’s a beautiful thing – but it drives me mad. Last week, Criminal Minds almost gave me a heart attack, and I was soaked in my own tears by the end of the episode. That’s not uncommon for me when it comes to that show, but this week was especially hard. I was actually really sad for the rest of the night, like something bad had actually happened. It was weird.

In a few days Monk will end, for good. I have had to wipe my eyes after every commercial for the s the finale that I’ve seen. It’s going to be hard. I feel like I’m losing a family member. I’ll be the same way if and when USA take Michael Westen (Burn Notice) and Shawn and Gus (Psych) from me.This shit is ridiculous.

I get sincerely invested in these characters and I either am strung along for years because I can’t let go as with some shows like Heroes and Nip/Tuck that needed to end a while ago but I can’t stop watching, or I get my heart ripped to shred when they are taken away from me, usually prematurely. The latter always kills me the most though, so I’d much rather have a show go on for so long that it pisses me off every time I watch it than be axed for low ratings when I’m still absolutely smitten.

Most recently, it was Eastwick that was canceled too soon.

I happened upon Eastwick by chance; I saw it in an ad on Hulu and decided to give it a chance, having heard that it was the new place to find the hotness of Matt Dallas after the cancellation of Kyle XY (a show that I was also heavily invested in for two seasons until the suckiness of the third was just unbearable and I lost track of what was going on). I was in love with it after one episode, but I knew it was going to be a problem.

Eastwick obviously had very little financial backing: you could tell in everything from the set to the unable-to-act-even-nonchalantly extras, and the advertising budget was even more flimsy. I knew it’d be getting canceled, there was no doubt in mind. But I kept coming back for more, I couldn’t help myself, and by the third episode I was hooked.

I was in love with the women that story revolved around It’s three main characters were all wonderful and endearing in their own rights. Roxie, the hippie widow and single mom who realized she could see the future and whom the town believed was a curse. Kat, the nurse newly separated mother of 5 children with an asshole ex she’s been with since she was a teenager, who can control the forces of nature, and also heal. And then there’s Joanna, my personal favorite the clumsy, stuttery, understated in the beginning but absolutely blatant in the end sexy ambitious reporter from the newspaper that discovers an ability to hypnotize men with her eyes and later telekinesis.

And the supporting characters, Daryl and Penny and Will and Mia and Raymond…all of them had something about them that drew you in and made you give a shit when you really didn’t want to.

It was a show that took, in my heart, the place of my gone too soon favorite, that I’m still bitter over and may never forgive television for – Pushing Daisies – even though I knew Eastwick was headed no where and Pushing Daisies caught me and everyone else I know off guard. Eastwick, like Pushing Daisies, made you feel good. No matter how dark and dreary the subject matter was, you got up off of your couch and felt good. You were smiling, you were happy. It was just a feel good show. And after the final two episodes ABC airs in the coming weeks, it’ll be done. And without an ending.

This is just too much fore me. Fall premiere time is my favorite part of the year.  I pay close attention to all the shows and blogs and sites and lists, and I make lists of my own detailing my schedule and what shows I’m most interested in. But every year, I have to worry that I show that I love won’t be loved by everyone else and therefore get shut down. That was what I scared of when it came to shows like Community and White Collar who (LUCKILY) are big hits and I don’t have to worry ab(yet).

My obsession doesn’t happen with every show. For instance, I really enjoy Flash Forward and (after a few episodes) V. But if they get canceled, it really wouldn’t bother me. I feel very distant from everyone on them, so it’s not that serious. I would prefer that they not get canceled and that the stories are able to grow and change, but if they do, as long as I get an ending, I’d be fine. They aren’t really character based shows though: they are plot based. I’s the character shows that get me. Sucks that it’s usually the character shows that get canceled too.

Now, my fingers are crossed for Chuck.

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Listening to: Whitesnake – Is This Love

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