Fall means good TV. There’s both the return of shows that have already conquered my DVR-loving heart and the new ones that will do their best to compete. On one hand, this glorious event is exhilarating: I will always have something of my choice to watch that I can select at whim from digital storage, fun! On the other hand, good TV is to cold weather, pale skin and expensive dry cleaning bills as malbec is to Argentinean steak. This means I will be spending a lot of time on my couch in the future, not all of it healthy. Also, it reminds me that I have yet to translate my passion and interests into a career, meaning I am not living the dream (job), I am not a writer. Boo friggity hoo.
Subsequently, in an effort to make my TV-watching more productive, I will try to use it an inspiration to create, rather than just consume. I love reading snarky episode recaps (ex1: New York Magazine’s The Vulture) and scoping out the spoiler alert scene (ex2: E!’s Watch with Kristen). I would give up my DVR and watch television with commercials just to write for one of those legendary media endeavors (well…maybe). So I thought, less reading, more writing. Here goes nothing.
This week’s focus is on everyone’s indifference towards the Season 4 Premiere of Gossip Girl. A show that was once “OMFG” provocative, the only worthwhile rival to New York Fashion week for more trendy design knockoffs, and the reason people busted out their old “I <3 NY” t-shirts is now a hot mess of failing story arcs. Deus ex machina plot points are nothing new for GG, but this Paris truly was burning over the following 3 ridiculous solutions:
B + S in Paris. Well, in theory B deserves to go. Destroyed by Chuck’s Love Game for the umpteenth time, B needed some space and clearly, having actually tried college and all, Eleanor + Jewish-husband-of-Clueless(tv series)-fame would have sponsored the excursion. S, on the other hand, has apparently been paying for her Parisian adventures in sexual favors. There’s no way that Lily Van der Woodsen-Bass-Van der Woodsen-Humphy, the worst of the worst parental units, would shell out even a $1 to reward her nekkkid daughter for any of the following of last year’s mishaps: hiding from college 101 (while running away/not living away from home), falling in love with a married man (while running away/not living away from home) and playing the saddest game of parent-trap ever (while living at from home, but only under the mask of reformed daughter gone good). Lily, lock up your harlot and buy her some clothes that are bigger than her sextousled blonde fro.
Baby Milo. Apparently, we’re supposed to believe that Brooklyn did for Dan what Costa Rica is doing for Speidi- letting them hide out from the world, mature and grow-up in private? No way, a Baby-Daddy does not grow in Brooklyn. At some point, wouldn’t Rufus have to come back to his 70s bachelor pad to get the mail, cook chili, give out life lessons, SOMETHING? Also, wouldn’t (and shouldn’t) Gossip Girl have sold those baby photos to US Weekly a long time ago? Ridic.
Bass’ beggar status. Finally, in a scene from next week’s episode, apparently the bullet lodged in Chuck’s side from his run-ins with Czech-Thug Life has turned him into Bilbo Baggins. Seriously? Seriously. Chuck has found love in Jason Stackhouse’s panther’s homelier doppelganger (miscast unknown Eastern block blonde), a new outlook on life (poverty and anonymity rule) and matching accessories (cane). No. Unacceptable. Never. Ever. Also, again, if Gossip Girl is using her international BBM to send out blasts about B + S in Paris, how come no word on C(sea)bass? Even more ridic.
So there goes, reader, the circle of life. Consume. Create. Consume. And again….
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