type

something. what’s your type? write? right. typing is so easy. writing is not. writing is hard.

SOMETIMES I HATE WriYPING

The main reason I started watching the show was because of its setting. And seeing how I live in Chicago, I thought it might be fun to try to pick out the scenery. So far, I haven’t been able to recognize most of the neighborhoods except for their quick successive NYPD Blue-type shots of city landmarks. They spend a lot of time on the south side in the show. And I don’t. But, I kept watching, regardless. And the more I watched, the more I kept agreeing with my wife. This show is kind of stupid. That was until tonight. And here’s why:

Too much focus on Alderman Gibbons
It’s an overarching storyline that is under delivering in entertainment value. It’s holding the show up, basically. Making it mediocre when it could be magnificent. I get what they’re trying to do. Chicago is corrupt, so let’s make the show about corruption. That’s fine. But you’re not doing a very good job at this storyline. Maybe it came on too strong. Too much for a new show and a new audience to endure. You should have eased us in. Much like Fringe did when it started. We don’t need to focus on Alderman Gibbons every week. Or even see him every week. Stick to the week-by-week formula of character’s developing over solving a different case every week. Using Gibbons in tonight’s episode was good enough. Now, let’s take a week or two off, solve some more crimes, and then possibly get back to Gibbons toward the end of March.

Not enough Liam air time
Who is Liam? He’s the undercover kid trying to infiltrate the Irish mob. So far, they haven’t really made a big deal about his storyline. Which is fine. Fine if they weren’t too busy focusing on the wrong storyline. But enough with Gibbons. That’s up there. It’s Liam’s time. And he got it tonight. Which is another reason why tonight’s episode was so far, the best one of the season. Finally, some stakes are raised when the kid, in order to gain the mobs trust even more, torches a house so they can lather themselves with money from homeowner’s insurance. Or something like that. I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention to that part of it. The point is, Liam set fire to a family’s house and then shared a sip of whiskey, probably whiskey, I’m guessing whiskey because they’re the Irish mob, but whatever, he was drinking from a flask with some other Irish member, both of them smiling over him popping his fire cherry while the firefighters finished putting out the flames. And just when you think young Liam is starting to get a taste for the crooked life, out rolls a stretcher, bodybag and all. Liam almost shits his pants when he sees this. And when he meets with Detective Wysocki to tell him what happened, Wysocki simply tells him that shit happens and to keep his cover. Liam throws up over a bridge and cries that he wants out. Wysocki snickers at him as if Liam just said he was quitting the bowling team. “Don’t you want to get even with them now for making you a murderer,” Wysocki says. I’m probably paraphrasing, but it was something like that. Which proves that for as valiant these cops try to be, they still find it ok to murder and trash someone’s house. As long as it’s for the better good of society. I couldn’t agree more.

Detective Wysocki
I can’t say anything bad about him or his partner. In fact, they’re the best part of the show. Especially because every time Wysocki opens his mouth, he sounds like an honest-to-god southsider when in reality, the guys Australian. Kind of like Mel Gibson, only he doesn’t hate jews and still has his career. His I’m tough but underneath it all, I’m really just a goddamn sweetheart attitude and protruding jaw that could actually count as its own character make you forget that the rest of the show is hemorrhaging and needs to be saved toot sweet.

Supernintendo Colvin
First: Jennifer Beals who plays the Superintendent is 48 in real life. 48! If I wasn’t too busy finding her utterly annoying the past few episodes, I probably would have noticed how hot she was for 48. 48. Man, that’s almost 50. But I digress. Which leads me to my second point. Second: She’s been extremely annoying to the point that I wish she had been the one shot in the first episode instead of her bodyguard who looked like Chris Brown. There was no depth to her. She was just this whiny, I wanna change the world and do things my way and I love justice, I want to fuck justice, but no one respects me because I’m a woman but that won’t stop me from taking down the most ruthless man in Chicago (Gibbons), attitude. But tonight, I actually didn’t want to kick my TV over every time she opened her mouth. It was probably because she wasn’t going after Gibbons. That we got to see her character doing other things a character should be doing, like refusing bribes and putting her work before her sister. Her sister and brother-in-law are sort of pieces of shit and if I had been Teresa, I would have punched the shit outta them in hopes of knocking some goddamn sense into their skulls. But anyway, it was mostly because Gibbons wasn’t in the show.

Which brings me to my original point: Less Gibbons. More character development combined with one-off crimes+more areas of Chicago I recognize (so, maybe we can get creator Shawn Ryan’s email address so I can send him a detailed map of places I know in Chicago)=one hell of a good show.

Oh, and how bout that House tonight. Thank GOD he took that Vicodin at the end. Next week’s looks like a doozy.

I didn’t care that Miley Cyrus was the host. In fact, if it weren’t for new cast member Vanessa Bayer’s impersonation of Cyrus, I probably wouldn’t have watched at all. But I wanted to see how SNL would handle the sketch between Bayer and Cyrus. A sketch, that at this moment, has made Ms. Bayer one of the only parts of the show I can stand. SNL was smart to run the Cyrus vs. Cyrus showdown at midnight. Even they know they suck. So, they forced us to ride along through the first half hour of half-assed comedy.

I waited. I waited through some Spanx commercial parody that was worse than god awful. It was like they finally let someone’s inbred son Crayola a page with his idiotic ideas. And that Charlie Sheen bit with Bill Hader caused me to black out. Hader, you’re usually spot on with your impersonations, but not last night. And why do a bit with Sheen acting fairly normal? It’s a spoof. Go goddamn nuts. Why not? He has.

Finally, they got to the Miley Cyrus Show sketch. They followed their formula like they always do with that sketch, which leads me to believe they are going to ruin one of the only funny ideas by shoving it down our throats almost every week. But they had to do it this week. It was a must.

You might have loved the sketch. Thought it was the best one ever created. But not me. I thought it could have been better. I’m not saying that the real Cyrus’ impersonation of that kid with the hair and the voice wasn’t good. It actually was very good. I was impressed. But, they could have done so much more. Like, concocted some weird story where Cyrus shows up on set as Hannah Montana, causing Vanessa’s Cyrus to think she’s having some sort of hallucination or experiencing a drug-induced trip even though she doesn’t do drugs, which would only make the situation wrapped in even more funny flavors. And then we’d get to see the two ladies stare into each other’s eyes, trying not to laugh as they encircle one another like two oddball gunslingers attempting to psyche the other one out.

But they didn’t do this. Instead, they did what they always do: they fucked up.

I hate hating SNL. I want it to be so much better than it is. There are moments when I watch. Moments in almost every sketch where I smile. And nod. And think, there you go SNL. That was good. Maybe it’s Loren. Or NBC. It’s probably NBC because NBC is really good at ruining anything that could be incredible. Like late night TV or ok-ing Outsourced. But usually, it’s the last sketch of the night, the one that comes on when most everyone else has given up, that makes me wonder, why can’t the whole show be like this. Like last night’s, CBS Gurney Month, highlighting all seventy-two hundred of CBS’s crime shows in quick montage succession while a loud, monster truck show voice announced things like, “Meredith Baxter-Birney on a gurney?”  YES! PERFECT! Now do the whole show like that. THE WHOLE SHOW!

But they won’t. Because most of America is full of people who can’t handle hearing the words “Meredith Baxter-Birney on a gurney.” They can’t even handle that Meredith Baxter-Birney is no longer a Birney but in fact a butch, causing them to throw out their entire Family Ties DVD set.

There are so many funny writers and comedians out there that I find this show to be a giant kick in the throat to those of us who can actually create five minutes of funny. But the show’s been cemented in television history. So, most people don’t watch because it is in fact funny. They watch because it’s been around so long that you can’t help but see how it’s going to embarrass itself this week. Like witnessing your grandfather laugh while he pisses his pants. The same man who shot down twenty German aircrafts. Or watching Kirk Douglas on the Oscars last week. It’s sad. It can be funny at times. But overall, it should have died years ago. At least it would still have its dignity.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go clean up some grandpa.

Goddamnit. Old Family Guy. I don’t like old Family Guy anymore. stewie trying to kill Lois is sesame street humor. I want to see dumpster baby dance number.

I digress and apologize yet again. I do that. And when I do, just scroll down to where the pictures start. Like this one:

At first I can’t understand why so many people are all up in arms about privacy issues. All Facebook is doing is helping me carry some of my stuff to another place. Like an online moving company. Only my couch is basic information.

So now i dont have to retype anything. That’s great. Awesome. Thanks, trill…

wait…

“…and anything else you’ve ever shared with anyone during your entire life.”

Ok, they didn’t say exactly that. but they might as well have. “any other information I’ve shared with everyone.” that’s what it really says. And that’s basically what I started with: A ridiculous request.

I said ok, because really, if my information is on facebook then who cares if its on trillian. I’m using it with the same people with less chance to embarass myself publicly. So, I sign in and then get this:

The first one: Trillian can post just about anything they god damn-well please. So basically my page is shitting spam. Not that anyone really goes to it anyway, but if they did, it would be a fucking nightmare.

Acces messages in my inbox? are you fucking nuts? Why the fuck do you need to access my inbox? How bored are you over there?  leaning back in your jerk off caverns, staring at computer screens, giggling over farting out your lunch and reading other people’s private conversations. Are you hiring?

You want to access posts in my newsfeed? Why? So you can carefully monitor the behavior habits of people who are moderately trusting of their virtual surroundings. If you want to reach people without coming off like a Frat Fucking Dick, do it in ways that aren’t already screaming for attention from every other brand in the world.

“Let’s go to Facebook,” is what the ad idiots say in adville. Where they pat themselves on the back everyday, shaking hands vigorously while lighting cigars. “we’re great!” “we create what’s in!” no, usually we dont. we create what will make us money. And i think that basically shoves a giant stick up the ass of imagination.

Sorry.

In case you forgot:

They just come right out with the next one. “We want to access your information anytime we want. Even when you’re asleep. You don’t have to wake up. Which means if an underpaid asshole works here who doesn’t care if they lose their job decides to take one of your private inbox messages and share it with EVERYONE, they can! ‘My penis won’t work in bed anymore’. Well, thanks to Dustin at Trillian, your friends know, their friends know, your girlfriend gets humiliated and your mom writes you a long fucking message about how she remembers diapering your little penis with baby powder. Or maybe that’s just a jewish mother. Or mine. Moving on.

The last one on the idiot list is the only one that should be on no list: Access your facebook chat. Yes. That’s…that’s what I’ve been trying to do since the beginning of this disaster. YES! Access it. Connect me. Jesus. But there’s a catch in this and I’ll tell you in a minute even though you already figured it out.

(Now, I know what you’re thinking. Why is it ok to access my chat and not my inbox? And I’ll tell you. If im trying to plan a surprise for my wife and i need to contact her friend, ill inbox her. I wont chat her up. I dont need an exposed window. I keep my chat up. Not my inbox. So, don’t fucking use that excuse wewannamaketrillions.)

Ok, so, I don’t want any of this, which means when I push the dont allow button, I get this:

Failure.

I’m a failure according to the people at trillions. Because I won’t let them access my life. When I tried again, I got:

Yup. You say no to one, you say no to them all, including the whole reason I got into this mess in the first place. So, that’s that. I just deleted the program. I’m gonna go with Adium. They didn’t do this the last time I used them. And if they do now, well, then I guess I’ll just have to keep a bunch of tabs open in my browser. Big fuckin’ deal.

Judd Wachstein knows nothing about anything.

We’re not speaking. As I write this.

The show is eerie as shit. Sometimes I hold my breath. Even though I’m watching it alone…well, with the dog, but she isn’t paying attention to it…I still hold back from breathing too quickly. Jumping from surprise is still embarrassing even when you’re alone. Maybe even more so. You look around to see if anyone saw you. Even though no one could possibly see you. Then you look back at the screen. And see the image of a corpse, ribs exposed, half its body ripped to shreds, crawling along the fresh blades of grass. Its rotting mouth opening slowly, its cavernous eyes peering at you, it drags and drags until a shot is fired and a bullet rips through its skull, ripping it to pieces. It stops crawling. The dead is finally dead. You feel like puking. Touch your face, feeling your flesh. And then the scene changes, but the image stays with you.

There will be more scenes like this one. More shocking. More violent. The mood is apocolyptic. The setting is Atlanta. And growing up in that city for the better part of 28 years, it looks unrecognizable. I guess when the walking dead have infiltrated your home town, it’s hard to see it the same way.

It’s only three episodes in, and I have yet to watch the new one from last night. But so far, it’s got major promise. Not Mad Men status because it’s not main stream enough. Too gross for some to handle. Not relatable to others. And still some might be thrown off by the whole zombie aspect. Even though they aren’t zombies. Don’t call them zombies. But still, it might be too horroresque for mainstream. It’s not as realistic as Breaking Bad, but carries the same dismal ‘the world always looks like it just got done or is about to storm’ sort of feeling. It could last. If enough people give it a chance. Death could have a chance.

The characters have promise. The main guy is already likeable. The quintessential savior. You root for him immediately. And feel a little betrayed during the scene in the first episode when his wife is passionately kissing his ex partner/friend. You just met his wife, Lori Grimes, and his friend, Shane Walsh, and already you’re not sure if they deserve to survive. But they will. Because TV and viewers will always need ordinary problems in even the most bizarre circumstances. After all, we discussed Jack and Kate and Sawyer almost as much as the mystery of the island on LOST.

Rick Grimes. That’s the main character’s name. He deserves to be named.

At times, the dialogue can be a little ‘give me a break’, roll your eyes sort of deal. But you ignore it. You accept it. The story, the action, the image of Rick hacking up a man, who was at one time a man just like he and his new gang of survivors, so that he and Glenn can smother their bodies in the stench of the dead and walk among them, makes you forget that scripted television sometimes sounds scripted. But mostly, you ignore it and try to imagine yourself as a ghost in the room, watching the situation unfold along with the other characters. Or you close your eyes and hope to God you can reopen them.

They make it through the shit storm of walking dead duders. Rick and Glenn. Glenn, the name of a kid who looks like Data’s, from the Goonies, older brother. But his name is Glenn. Glenn is the name of a forty five year old white guy who works at the farmers market up the street. But whatever, he and Rick make it. Just as a quick storm passes through the metro Atlanta area, slowly washing off their costumes, revealing who they really are, causing the dead to start limping their way towards them in a furious, hungry manner. You know they’re gonna make it. It’s too soon for Glenn to die and Rick’s the main character. But you still watch. You watch, holding your breath. You watch, clenching your fists, digging your toes into your shoes, you watch. Your heart races. You watch.

We have to go this route. The Walking Dead route. Television has become too genetically formulated. Embryonic stem cells pricked from law shows, doctor shows, cop shows, placed in a petri dish and cloned for network television to repackage and distribute as something new. We need shows like The Walking Dead. To keep our imaginations from rotting. To give us a reason to continue buying overpriced cable packages. The Walking Death is about survival. And with more shows like this one, stations like AMC are doing just that.

"Please, I just want to know how LOST ended."

It’s not hard to write a goddamn sketch. Yet, they have gotten very good at writing nothing but horrific disasters constantly. Just writing shit. Why are you writing shit? Who is saying that this is funny enough to be seen? Stop doing it. Just back away. Look at what you’re producing. Watch an episode with other people. People you dont know. So you can see the disgusted look on their face. People like me.

It kind of sucks, too. Because the people on there are fucking good. A waste of talent. What I could do with those people. Kristin Wiig. You’re not overexposed. For a time, I thought you were. Now, it’s out of necessity. You have to be in everything. Otherwise, it’s like a sandwich without the meat. You should be in everything. Everything but sketches in Saturday Night Live. You’re too good for that show.

So are you Fred Armisted or however you say your last name. I didn’t like you at first. Hated your Obama impression. Still do. His voice is deeper. But other than that, you make me smile whenever your silly face arrives on screen. You should be in things with Kristin Wiig. Things not associated with SNL. Things not associated with Obama. Leave that to the new black guy.

That’s not racist. I don’t know his name. And if I said ‘leave it to the new guy’, you’d have no idea who I was talking about. You still probably don’t because all sketches pretty much blur into one sickly motion of a merry-go-round of shit. But the new black guy, he could do Obama. I want to see him do someone other than Denzel Washington. Don’t get me wrong, he’s funny as shit doing it. But I’ve seen him do it four times now. And he’s only been on five episodes. Save it up. Don’t…

…Weekend Update is on. It’s partly Seth Meyer’s fault. Why the show sucks. He’s the head writer.

So, wait…it’s all his fault.

I just want to sit down and have a talk with him. See what he finds funny. Take notes. And then do the opposite. Then again, maybe it’s not his fault. I don’t know how it works back there. I wish I did. It shouldn’t be impossible to write for this show. There are too many people I know that could make that show what it used to be. Matt Sirchia, Amber Gerencher, Stephanie Douglass and myself.

But not on stage. According to my girlfriend, I’m a wanna-be actor. And she’s dead right. I know my place. It’s behind the computer and sometimes behind the camera. If I knew what I was doing more. But for now, I’ll continue sitting here watching the Titanic go down, hoping to God I don’t punch a whole through my TV.

Never go to bed angry.

Exactly

But yeah, the goosebumps. From watching. And listening. Music makes the difference. I always said that. Would a car chase scene in a movie seem as car chasey if banjo music were playing in the background? Only if you’re watching the Dukes of Hazard. Which, maybe you are and in that case, good for you but really, you’re still watching the Dukes of Hazard while wearing suspenders…sans the shirt?

I miss my father.

So, yeah, Dukes of Hazard. No, banjos. No, the music. It’s a choir of girls singing Radioheads “Creep”. Close up shots of familiar Facebook situations display themselves on screen like a memorial montage. You get the feeling like you’ve just been a part of something more significant than you ever thought a platform involving poking could be. But it is. It has been. Our faces will go down in the history books. As will Zuckerberg’s.

He spends the rest of the trailer…well, Jesse Eisenberg because he’s jewish enough, and bergie enough to play the young entre-manure. I like Jesse Eisenberg. He was believable in Adventureland. And seemed cool enough in Zombieland. I wouldn’t know. The copy Netlix sent me didn’t feel like working for me. But whatever.

No, whatever, the rest of the trailer. It’s spent with Eisenzuckerberg defending “his” idea and acting in scenes with Justin Timberlake. Timberlake doesn’t piss me off in movies. I don’t know why. I actually like the kid.

This bothers me.

So does the fact that I’ve dashed over to Facebook a few times in the middle of this just to see what’s up. What’s new. What’s the point? That you just had a great run and are enjoying the rest of your Sunday. Or that your kid just hit a homerun in little league. Or that you just hit a homerun in some video game. I shouldn’t. I don’t. But, like cigarettes and Zuckerberg, sometimes it’s the things that are the most harmful that are also the most addicting.

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