Monday, April 03, 2006
Around the Dial
So I made the mistake of watching a couple of episodes of 8th & Ocean yesterday. I say "mistake" not out of any sense of snobbishness, since, after all, I watch Lizzie Maguire reruns with alarming frequency, but only because getting hooked on another set of psuedo-reality characters I love to hate is about the last thing I need. Why must you consistently taunt me with such addictive yet substance-free programming, MTV? I swore I was done after Real World Paris, I swore!
But anyway, if you haven't seen 8th & Ocean, you're missing some truly compelling drama. Like Teddy's tragic dilemma over which stunning underage model he should bone first. Or Tracie's noble struggle to gain five pounds so casting directors will stop posing her in Castle Grayskull. Or Britt's staggering realization that a job that involves getting photographed with your bra off may not exactly be the biggest hit at your next Lutheran Teen Lock-In. It's like Chekhov as directed by McG.
Other things I loved? The gratuitous misspelling of "Model's For Christ" sign. Vinci's incredibly coherent musings on fidelity in the new millennium. And, of course, Irene's completely immobile face. Now THAT'S television.
So I made the mistake of watching a couple of episodes of 8th & Ocean yesterday. I say "mistake" not out of any sense of snobbishness, since, after all, I watch Lizzie Maguire reruns with alarming frequency, but only because getting hooked on another set of psuedo-reality characters I love to hate is about the last thing I need. Why must you consistently taunt me with such addictive yet substance-free programming, MTV? I swore I was done after Real World Paris, I swore!
But anyway, if you haven't seen 8th & Ocean, you're missing some truly compelling drama. Like Teddy's tragic dilemma over which stunning underage model he should bone first. Or Tracie's noble struggle to gain five pounds so casting directors will stop posing her in Castle Grayskull. Or Britt's staggering realization that a job that involves getting photographed with your bra off may not exactly be the biggest hit at your next Lutheran Teen Lock-In. It's like Chekhov as directed by McG.
Other things I loved? The gratuitous misspelling of "Model's For Christ" sign. Vinci's incredibly coherent musings on fidelity in the new millennium. And, of course, Irene's completely immobile face. Now THAT'S television.
