My conspiracy theorist self tells me that TV is nothing more than a double-barrelled stun gun set to imbecile mode. That from somewhere deep within the Fox News bunker (word has it all major networks are connected in a series of underground tunnels) the revolution being televised is nefarious—a clandestine mind-control mission being deployed to divert our attention away from the economy, the war, the environment, class and social issues. Chapter One probably reads like the, “He Who Controls The Information, Controls The Minds Of A Nation” playbook. How else can you explain America’s populace jumping off the Spencer and Heidi cliff like sedated lemmings?
Don’t get me wrong…I’m no highbrow TV elitist—I understand the basic need to fill the vapid sensory depravation chamber that can be life with the alpha-wave equivalent of a fart joke. Who doesn’t appreciate that “special” portion of American Idol where they let the contestants with Down’s syndrome audition? I get it…dumb people (at the right moment, time and dose) can be funny. I just don’t want to be stuck on “Retarded Island” against my will. Some things just get old. Fast. At least it does for those looking to actually increase their intellectual acumen. Smart people need love too.
For one of the most powerful and stimulating mediums of artistic expression, one known to command more than a million-dollars-a-minute, intelligent viewing shouldn’t be so rare. That’s what makes those occasional bits of televised genius worth celebrating. Like this issue’s cover stars, HBO’s Flight Of The Conchords. Who cares if the American Gladiator set just doesn’t get its dry, understated wit and all around heeeelarious awesomeness. If they can’t appreciate sexy hermaphrodites, apocalyptic robots, diseased simians and the songs they inspire, I say good day, sir.
You know what has me gutted with a real bout of nervous laughter? The fact that John McCain is quoted as saying: “I’m honored to have Heidi’s support for President and I want to assure her that I never miss an episode of The Hills, especially since the new season started.” Wow. Really, John? Do you actually endorse The Hills—the mental equivalent of taking a running kick to the nuts? With spiked cleats? Hello conspiracy theory. I bet Milf Island sounds like a fresh idea too, old man. I wonder if Bret, Jemaine and Murray pull Obama’s intellectual finger when he’s looking to escape reality with a bit of visual entertainment?
