AND NOW SOME APES ARE GOING TO FUCK

***** It should be stated up front that if you ever intend to read the book Ape House and do not wish to have the experience tainted and some of the so-called mysteries spoiled, it is advised to stop reading this blog at once. You have been warned.*****

Author Sara Gruen loves animals. So much in fact that all of her stories set themselves in motion amidst a backdrop of beasts. I have never read her first two books. They're about horses it would seem. She hit paydirt with her third novel, and this managed to even get my attention. Water for Elephants.

This novel has been hailed as a modern day classic of literature and is now soon to be ushered out into the public as a major motion picture that will feature Reese Witherspoon smiling her way through the story alongside the brooding talents of that guy who played in all of those shitty Twilight movies.

The book has already caused readers worldwide to spew their literary jizz all over the pages and now they probably have to buy more books because don't the pages stick together when you do that? But as soon as she who smiles a lot and he, who shall not be named here in efforts to prevent an army of pre-pubescent hussies bum-rushing my blog and asking if I even realize whose talents I am deriding here, are seen all over movie screens everywhere in their efforts to upstage an elephant with a whole lot of grinning and glooming, well.... it's all over at that point. The book will become legend. If you think that Water for Elephants has been hyped now? As a book? Just you wait until that dipshit from those emo vampire flicks gets his pasty face next to that elephant. The elephant fit will shit the shan me thinks.

I read Water for Elephants. I liked it even. I wouldn't exactly hail it as a classic or anything of the sort. But yeah, it had a certain  sweetness to it and it held my attention after getting it. I think that Sara Gruen is a good writer. Not a great writer. But, yes.... a good one. She evokes emotion well. This particularly as a result of her animals. The woman just loves animals, like I said.

She touches the heartstrings. Not necessarily tugging on them, or ripping them out, like a great writer would do. But she does get in there and touch you. I dig that a whole lot if I agree to it. The animals are not just cake and fluff to soak up her human characters sobs and messes. These animals are real characters themselves and their actions and emotions drive her stories just as much as anything you will get from the puny human stuff.

She is creative. Descriptive. Passionate. She does what good writers should do very well. She brings her characters to life and makes you feel like they are sitting right next to you. You smell them. Even when they reek of an inhuman pestilence that no shower can wash away. You care what is going to happen to these people. Her characters. Even if you hope they will soon wind up gutted in a ditch somewhere. You care. That is what a good writer does and she absolutely succeeds in this particular book.

I couldn't stop reading Water for Elephants. For better or for worse. I felt like it kind of ran out of steam towards the last section. Without ruining it for anybody still wishing to read that novel, I didn't buy the ending one bit either. It was lazy and fluffy and it tried way too hard to send the reader to sleep after closing the book with an elephant shit eating grin and a warm feeling around your heart. It's the perfect type of ending to a movie that will star Reese Witherspunk though. Always with the smiles, that woman.

Added with that goofy Twilight guy,  I can only imagine their onscreen dynamic will resemble paint thinner and tomato juice poured into the same glass for consumption.

As a writer myself I am rather persnickety and can be quite critical at times. Even on my own bad self. So yeah .... Water for Elephants.... good book. It's pure sap if you're looking for that sort of thing. Just don't think too much about it all. Thinking is really not required when reading fluff. Just puff and fluff and leave on repeat until the end. Just make damn sure you end on a fluffy note though.

I admit that I can be all gooey inside and touchy feely and love to ooze sweetness as thick as anybody. Around the time I finished reading Water for Elephants I saw that Sara Gruen had just released a new book called Ape House. I did some poking around. Another book involving animals. Apes this time, obviously. Apes are cool, right? Hell, I share a blog with one.

I went ahead and picked up Ape House from Amazon because, in case you are not aware, Amazon is the shit. I have been doing a whole lot of reading lately. It's kind of helped to inspire my own writing actually and that is a good thing. No, okay....fuck that. It's a great thing. So hats off to Sara Gruen and any other writers I have been reading here.

I read the jacket of Ape House and it sounded interesting enough. I had actually read an interview with her just after finishing Water for Elephants and that tickled my fancy a little more about wanting to read the book than the synopsis on the jacket did. Sara was inspired to write this book from her own experiences with apes that are called bonobos. If you wish to know more about these magnificent creatures please look them up on the internet on your own time as I am not National Geographic and the overall particulars surrounding these animals has little to do with what I am wishing to write about here.

There are, however, two things that are central to the story. Bonobos are very proficient at communicating with humans through what is referred to as ASL. American Sign Language. They are also extremely sexual in a most alarming and casual sense of being so. Think of us humans for a minute. Now imagine if say.... you were to be walking down the street.... and you passed by a stranger. Any gender because this appears to have no course of effect on their sexual habits. As you walk by this stranger you jump up on their shoulder and rub your genitalia across their chin because it's sexy time. Then you hop down and continue walking. Yeah, it's kind of like that. In fact, it's exactly like that. All the time too because to a bonobo it's always sexy time.

Sara clocked in much research time in order to study the habits of the bonobos and familiarize herself with their language. In fact, many of the exchanges between the apes and the human characters in the book were actually based on some of her own real conversations with newly acquired ape friends. The kinships she would build served as a catalyst for the story to be told.

I immediately began to think of the powers of emotion that she conveyed so masterfully with Rosie the elephant, and though I think it best to never begin a book with any sort of expectations what so ever, I prepared myself for a beautifully crafted tale that would give the reader an astute analysis of the majesty and intellect that lurks deepest within the hearts and minds of these remarkable creatures. All brought into play with a touch of romance and suspense.

The story revolves around John Thigpen. A reporter who gets the chance of a lifetime when he is allowed inside of the great ape language lab and interviews scientist Isabel Duncan, along with her awesome group of apes, for the Philadelphia Inquirer. The interview goes well and the story seems to be over until an animal rights group, so we are led to believe, blows up the lab and liberates the apes. Isabel is blasted not quite to that Kingdom Come place and has to undergo reconstructive surgery.

Meanwhile, her assistant, the tattooed and pink haired intern Celia, just happened to step out for Starbucks right before the blast and may or may not be implicated. Isabel's lab partner, Peter, also happens to be her fiance who boned Celia after a New Years Eve party. Blah-blah-blah.

Added for even more character measure is John's wife, Amanda. She's a disgruntled author whose only book tanked and has currently been gathering dust while she gets rejection letters for her second manuscript. But things have just looked up for Amanda. A television pilot that she wrote has now been picked up for syndication and she gets whisked away to L.A. Obviously this strains the couples marriage, but hey.... aren't strained marriages perfect drama fodder?

The jacket implies there will be some sort of relationship between Thigpen and Isabel. Meanwhile, there are plenty of jokes about his name. Pigpen, anyone? There really is nothing to bother about there. The bulk of the novel centers on him, either alone or floating in and out of everyone elses plotted sidelines. His story of a lifetime gets high-jacked by a ruthless co-worker and he winds up quitting and moving out to the land of the lost to be with his wife.

Obviously miserable on the West coast, our hero gets a job at a shitty tabloid paper and his luck eventually leads him back within poop throwing distance of Isabel and the apes. Once again, there is very little in the way of a relationship here as these two don't even touch base until roughly the last 50 pages. I am not exactly sure what I was expecting as far as relationships go. But I was thinking there would be some romance splashed in there somewhere. What did I get? Apes fucking. More on that later though.

The main focus of the book is Thigpen, as he struggles to hold together a seemingly crumbling marriage and redeem himself from another shitty job, while  desperately trying to write a good story, even if it is against the wishes and demands of his editor. He now works for the tabloids, who are more known for their dirt not Pulitzer Prize worthy journalism.

There are plenty of instances where the author alludes to some sort of sexual tension between Thigpen and Isabel. Although the tension is fleeting and unrequited, only to vanish into thin air amongst all the other nonsense. He thinks about her. He touches her a certain way. He sparks up at her presence or mention. But he is married and he stays that way. Throw in a few marital scraps here and there and we've got some hackneyed attempts at drama.

Speaking of the marriage, Amanda is actually the most interesting character of the entire book. Still scathing from her wounds of being rejected as an author, she dreams, with wide eyed apple pie innocence, of landing a writing job out in the land of make believe and before long she is eaten alive. She gets hit on by her thought to be gay assistent and she begins a transformation of sorts into the very thing that repulses her most. A well preened zombie dressed to impress, despite the fact that she actually fails terribly at doing so.

Still, Amanda is not really the focus here. Much of the book rests upon our pigboy wonder. He tries to get his story. He re-connects with Isabel. He runs across an obnoxious green-haired teenager who may or may not be his son. Drama ensues and cliches abound.

Amanda would have been a far more interesting centerpiece for the story in my opinion, as she has all the makings of a great character. Beautiful but insecure. Ambitious and yet wet behind the ears.Though Amanda is not exactly a likable role model, she is very interesting in that fucked up and what will she do next kind of way. Being filler for the rest of the smatterings, she doesn't really seem to do a whole lot of anything except muse on her shitty life and whine about wanting a baby whenever she does manage to pop onto the pages.

Another character who merely serves as a bookend for the action is Peter, Isabel's lab partner and fiance. The guy is a prick. The author throws this out there from the get go and never lets up. Of course, despite how much of a prick he is he doesn't exactly try hard to be mysterious enough and the revelations behind our dastardly dickweed roll out as rather ho-hum.

I know what you're thinking here. Aren't there apes in this book? Well, the beginning is promising enough and the set up for the apes is captivating. Their interaction with Isabel is rather sweet and most enjoyable. But the lab quickly gets blown up and the apes wind up across the street in trees. They get shot down and kidnapped and before you can slide out towards the edge of your seat and wonder what happened to them, you find out and the discoveries will make you feel like scratching your head and going "ummm.... okay."

You see, the apes have been purchased by this porno kingpin who puts them up in a house..... heyyyyy ape house.... I get it now.... our resident sleazeball then exploits the apes by putting them on TV and the internet as the stars of their own reality show. The show is called..... are you ready?.... Ape House. Bet you thought I was through making apes are in the house jokes, didn't ya?

The apes become television sensations as millions of Americans tune in to watch them

(I am not making any of this up!)

order food, throw pizza boxes, surf on unhinged doors....

But the main draw and primary selling point turns out to be the apes rabid sexual habits. This means that millions of viewers tune in so they can watch a bunch of apes fuck. Enthralling, I know.

I went into Ape House expecting a compelling and heart wrenching tale of beast and man and an in depth study of a complex and unique species of ape and what did I get? A bunch of apes fucking.

Needless to say, I wasn't at all thrilled by Ape House. The story is bungled all over the place. The mysteries of who is doing what and why are all cliched as hell. The characters just kind of mope around from page to page. Oh, and the ending sucks too. I thought the ending of Water for Elephants was lazy and much too fluffy. But this.... this is just madness. The story is conveniently sewn up in a flash and the apes have a brand new facility so they can fuck all day and night long and it's rainbows and candy canes for all who deserve them.

There is no romance. There is no suspense. There is no depth to any of the characters outside of the wish list for Amanda. Some of the scenes are just downright cheese-ball-ish-

Thigpen serenades his wifes voice mail with Mama I'm Coming Home by Ozzy because..... well, he is coming home at that very moment.

Thigpen also blasts one of the truly most vomitous songs in pop music history to annoy his neighbors. We Built this City by Starship. A fictional character, yes. But I seriously hate this guy.

Oh, you want more cheese? A meth lab that fronts as a pizza parlor, but doesn't seem to know that it should actually serve pizza, blows up across the street from Thigpen's hotel and a refugee pit bull wanders into his room to be found by wifey. She takes it home and they all live happily ever after. I love dogs and all, but I am going to throw up now.

Everybody that is bad is really bad here and there wasn't much in the way of surprises for me. The story wraps itself up with a bow and the whole thing pretty much made me want to throw the book against a wall.

I'm going to see Water for Elephants when it comes out at the theater. Mostly out of curiosity for how badly Hollywood will fuck it up. They always seem do that, don't they? If the movie does turn out to be remotely good I'll be pleasantly surprised.

As for Sara Gruen, I still think she is a good writer and maybe someday she will craft herself a masterpiece. She's got a long way to go though and for now I'm pretty much done with her. She has the chops. She just needs to work it a little better. Lose the filler. Maybe prioritize a little better. She did good enough with making magic in Water for Elephants. But after reading grape house she could maybe do with some wiser judgement on who gets the spotlight and who gets to sizzle on the backburner. I love her animals though. Maybe one day, if she can keep them out of beast orgies, she can get her animals to write better books for her.

****Original post date 1/2/2011****

WITH (((HUGS))) AND REGARDS TO FRAGGLE ROCK

 *** A guest blog by Cleanshaven, the bald blogger monkey. Original post date 8/15/2010 ***

Most people think Fraggle Rock is mindless. Of course they are right.

Mindless fun that teaches us all the lessons of life that we all so need to be taughten. Grammar being among them.

 

Who would have ever thought that a fictitious world of make believe that doesn't exist would be so much fun to not actually be able to go to and yet still find itself just as non-existent and relevant today as it did when it first began to not really exist in it's non-existence?

Fraggle rock is delusional in its illusion. Its presence teaches us all sorts of valuable lessons that we so desperately need to be taught like the tolerance and intolerance of toleration and ignoration as well as unanimation. This last one is very important because in this lifetime of which we all have to live it is essential to be unanimous.

So many lessons that enrich and fulfill our wonderland of wonder.

How to spot and be a bully.

Plagerism and plaguerism.

The joys of nature.

The joys of cross dressing.

The joys that can be found in joy.

The spoils of being allowed to poop on the carpet.

Who would ever have thought that such a world could be so educational?

The world of Fraggle Rock's mind was created by that maestro of fluffy puppets and shit, Jim Henson.

But the world of Fraggle Rock indeed belongs to each and every one of us who continue to be amazed and made to go wow and learn the lessons that we all so need to lessen ourselves in.

I remember the very first time that I saw Fraggle rock and I was obliterated with immense joy and diarrhea. I turned on my TV (or my thought-v as I like to call it) and I watched a brilliant and enlightening episode of this show called Don't be a whooly bully, be a whooly mammoth.

This show taught me many things. Among them it showed just how misunderstood the world of Fraggle rock can be and even though sometimes this world can be quite vile tempered it proved that it just is stupid to be heartless and cruel to your fellow puppets. . . . Or maybe it proved that stupid puppets can't really be heartless and cruel because they are too stupid. . . . or something like that. I was drunk when I was watching that episode so I am not entirely sure. But like being mashed up in a really fun to be mashed up in car crash I was hooked.

The next week I sat down in front of that wonderwall of godraffiti and was moved to the point of tears when I sat through most of an episode called Are you there god it’s me Fraggle Rock?

In this whoopie cushion of wowdom the lead character Gobo has regained his faith that he never had when he calls a lady at the bus stop a heybitch.

She turns all the winos that are passed out on the ground against our apex of atheism and one of them even pees on his foot. It was very exciting.

He regains his faith in faith by calling out to the lord and master of puppets. He even gets back all the feeling in his foot after the mad hobo of crablice relieved himself on it. I found myself jumping up and down with joy and more joy but as I said I was unable to see the entire episode due to excessive amounts of joy that I had to poop out. I can only imagine that all was returned to normal and well because there is always a happy ending on Fraggle Rock.

Speaking of happy endings there was a truly inspiring episode called Please lift up my skirt and tickle my strawberries that aired the following week after the air show. Mokey went to a massage parlor downtown and met a beautiful Asian hostess who upon putting ice cubes in her mouth and, going eel diving in the deep blue sea under the table, was aghast to see that our hero was in fact wearing a skirt. Oh my!

I found this subject matter to be quite much really as I believe that even male puppets should never wear skirts and I had to turn this bovine excrement off. Cross dressing is simply not a laughing matter and I was forced to do some crossing of my own to my fingers in hopes that next week the silly puppet would not be wearing this woolen atrocity.

I thanked god the following week, despite being an atheist, when the horribly poofy item had been switched over to a fuzzy jock strap. This made me feel much better.

In an episode entitled Stealing is wrong because it’s just not right Wembley and Boober got into a shouting match at the flea tournament over a forged grocery list that looked an awful lot like the immolation proclamation.

After Boober pulls off Wembley's puppet nipples and sets them on fire he then goes home and calls all of his enormous brood a bunch of good for nothing ball huggers.

When Boober asks god to erase the ungrateful bunch from civilization god answers that he doesn't grant requests to atheists and Boober is forced to pay a visit to the caves oldest Fraggle who is not to be confused with the world’s oldest Fraggle. Don't worry, I got them confused all the time. Some bizarre happenings ensue and I shall not spoil the fun for anybody who wishes to enjoy this great episode as it airs daily and nightly after the air show.

This episode was truly a milestone in education that should be enjoyed again again again by children and adults and animals alike. It climaxed with all the Fraggle clan doing what they do best. Singing the Fraggle Rock theme song called ironically enough the Fraggle Rock theme song.

If you have never seen the Fraggle Rock show it is truly a wonder and spectacle for all to behold even if they try to look the other way while it airs after the air show. I have never been able to do anything but look and sometimes I am provided with laughter. Other times I am drowned in tears.

But I always learn something from this great show and it always makes me feel better about where my life has been and where it is going. Most of all it makes me feel better about where I’m at right now. Usually I am pooping.

THEY CALL ME MIKE TV

Recent generations who have gorged and been bred on overdoses of reality television and an Mtv channel that rarely plays music videos (just what does that M stand for now anyway?) might actually find themselves surprised to know that television was once a valid form of entertainment, thriving in both quality and .... well, actual entertainment. I will admit that I sometimes watch things out of curiosity that is either morbid (American Idol audition shows) or genre specific (The River or American Horror Story). But as I see it television has more so washed up bloated on the sea shore than merely squandered its days or nights napping with fishes.

Growing up in the 70's though I can severely attest that television not only kicked major ass but creatively knocked me off my feet to where I found myself parking ass right down in front of it more often than I probably should have been allowed to. As a young one my theme song was "Let me entertain you" by Queen and it was a ballad crooned to my adolescent thirst loud and clear by such swoon worthy pastimes as books, radios, movie screens and my one time favorite before discovering any of that stuff, the television. What can I say besides that I was a tv baby?

As a tv baby in the 70's I found it , both then and even now, quite stagnating at the amount of quality that emanated from so many of the shows. Well before it would slumber with fishes or be readied for wash up around droll tide it must have been mandatory to merely drink the water and let me tell you there sure was a whole lot of genius breeding magic powers to be found in them waters. What were the best shows on television in my opinion? This could be a game topic stretched into extra innings by far too many variables-

Too many show genres to consider accurately. (Seriously. Wow. Childrens programming, the infamous variety show and the once truly magnificent sit-coms just for starters)

Particular seasons being better than others. (I happen to feel that the first five seasons, and in particular season number two, of Buffy the Vampire Slayer would simply put be one of the greatest shows in the history of television. The last two seasons? Eh, not so much there)

Great shows being among the most short lived. (This list could go on forever as it always seems like a prerequisite of a show being truly great in my eyes that it has to be snuffed out early by executives whose stone written philosophy must have been that it's better to stifle a tasty fart once it has hit air than to allow it to evolve on waves and gets its fresh on)

These are all just to name a few. Back in the golden days of boob tubes there just was so much greatness going on and it's damn near impossible to remember all of it. Hell, even the game shows were great back then. (Paul Lynde for the block, anyone?) Oh, and how about those spin-offs? Come on, you know that even though Happy days and Three's company were so awesome you also felt equally as enthusiastic about Laverne & Shirley, Mork & Mindy, and The Ropers. Don't worry, it's okay ....we'll throw a sand bag over Archie Bunker's place and Joanie loves Chachi while we're reminiscing.

To refer to something as one of the greatest television shows of all time seems like such a bold claim. With enough attitude and alcohol some might even call thems fightin' words. Ah, but it's all just a matter of opinion and the following ten shows are in MY opinion the best that television has ever had to offer. These are acknowledged not only for their greatness but equally for their ability to STAY great until the very end of their run no matter how long or short that run might have been. These are the big ones in my time and the best ones in my book. Though in no particular order as greatness should be more so celebrated than over or underrated.

Oh, and though my preferred era of television will forever be the 70's I tried to look beyond and work around that preference. I can certainly recognize greatness no matter what decade it plopped out of. But I mean, come on ....the 70's just rocked and there are/were too many great shows to be able to namecheck them all. Just a few that spring instantly to mind for me are S.W.A.T., Taxi, All in the Family, Six-million dollar man, The Love Boat, Fantasy Island, and Sanford & Son. Not all of these shows stayed around long enough and the ones that did eventually wore out their creative welcome.

So, here they are. The best of the best. According to me. Old or new, they were and still are the ones that made a difference to me most and just as much as they have somehow defined a part of who I am they were best at doing what sadly I feel television does far too little of these days. Entertain.

1) KOLCHACK : THE NIGHT STALKER-

The grand daddy of all shows for me. Though I stated there would be no order of preference here I am gonna bitchslap this one with an exception to the rule clause. I remember seeing the original tv movie when I was about five years old and being frightened into full on bleating and panic induced panty waste mode. But I have always felt like there are two kinds of people in the world. Those who ride the rollercoaster and then get off and find themselves traumatized for life to the tune of nausea..... or me, the other band of misfit who staggers off the ride, vomits intensely and then clamours for another go around. By the time the second made for tv film, The night strangler, came along with a repeat of the first one it was a whole different ballgame for me. I was hooked on horror. Although I was truly saddened when they cancelled the show after only one season. Ah, but what a season it was. This show was way ahead of its time and Darren Mcgavin will forever be my hero. Best show ever for me and not even a horrid 2010 tv revamping nor a proposed Johnny Depp film can tarnish this bad boy.



2) FRIENDS-

A guilty pleasure would imply that one chokes back a gulp of bile and feels a certain sense of displeasure in their declaration of enjoyment. In this sense I harbor no shame in saying loud and clear to anyone that I loved Friends, still do and always will. I will admit that I find it more than a little ironic that I happen to feel so strongly about a show that features as well as caters to a demographic that I openly mock in my writing and wish death upon several times a day. This being yuppie scum. But I recognize heart and soul just as easily as great comedy and this show had it all right to the very end. By the way, I will go on record and claim the Friends spin-off Joey as one of my guilty pleasures.



3) SOUTH PARK-

This show works on so many levels that it's hard to capture it all in a brief synopsis. It's arguably the crudest,rudest and most hilariously vile show of all time, animated or otherwise. Beyond the laughter though viewers will find a heart blackened so thick that it could be mistaken for a lump of coal. Throw in a message at the end of every show and you have television perfection. All this while being socially relevant. What is not to love about that?



4) THE BRADY BUNCH-

Come on now, has any show ever captured the cheese and cracker ass white bread of 70's suburbia anywhere near as close as this one? I think not. Though we would all love to forget cousin Oliver we are permanently in debt to the clan that always seem to roller boogie down and then land bell bottom up with a smile. Besides, call me sentimental but I sure did love it when Sam the butcher would bring Alice the meat.



5) CHAPPELLE'S SHOW-

A lot of shows take comedic brilliance and mix it up in a cauldron with racial stirrings with results that are not merely simmering but boiling over. Dave chappelle did it all with the subtlety of the Rodney King beatdown video and the street riots it incited. No other show has ever taken such an unflinching gawk at stereotypes and bad blood types and made it so damn hilarious and yet thought provoking. More than just being ground breaking entertainment this was a show that was needed. Both then and now. Where are ya, Dave? Please come back and school us upside the head with your funny bone. We miss that shit.




6) CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM-

What Larry David has done with Curb your enthusiasm is somehow manage to take the morbid curiosity appeal that we all get from gawking at car wrecks and capture that into a half hour comedy show. Though I was never much of a Seinfeld person I find this chapter in Davids career catalogue to be most enjoyable. I don't know how he does it but somehow Larry and his band of show business fruits and nuts manage to make things like racial tensions, death and even being handicapped laughable. Though sometimes the show makes me cringe despite this not at all being an easy task. You go Larry. Rock on with your wrong self.



7) MONTY PYTHON'S FLYING CIRCUS-

If I could credit one show from my youth that would jumpstart my addiction to horror it would be Kolchak: the Night Stalker. If I could give silly nods at one show for making the most of my bizarre sense of humor and starting me young it would have to be this one. You either get it or you don't. I did and still do. I remember being like seven years old and left to fend for myself in my parents bedroom with their television on a Saturday night. This was where and when I discovered the original pranksters. Laughing my head off I drew my parents into the room to see what was going on. After a few minutes of watching the Python they left the room shaking their heads, clearly not getting it.




8) TWIN PEAKS-

I have a theory about the career of David Lynch. Nobody understands what he does and even then half the time I don't think he understands it himself. He probably tosses stuff out of his head sometimes just to see what kind of reaction he will get and the meaning audiences will take from it. Then he probably scoffs at their theories with a shit eating grin. He makes movies that are so vivid and colorful they jump right off the screen and skullfuck your senses without having to resort to a gimmick as shameless as 3-d. He turns out paintings that are brilliant in both their ability to inspire awe as well as head scratching. This sounds to me like a guy who was born to do tv.

Sure, I had no idea what I was watching. But as with Lynch's music, paintings and films I loved every bit of it. I still do on repeated viewings despite not understanding it any better with time. Visually stunning to the point of eye biting along with having a superb casting cocktail equally rationed of unknowns and screen veterans this show was poised to be quietly ground breaking from the inside up before it met its ultimately and undeserved death grip. The saddest thing about it was that we never got to see where it was really going and feel the full brunt of just how weird David Lynch can do television. Had the show survived longer than two seasons we might have seen where it was going, but I highly doubt we would have known where we were at even though we were standing in it like freshly plopped turd droppings straight from the tubed boobed ass.



9) ODD COUPLE-

I know it seems sinful to say that one prefers the remake to the original. But in this case the bells rang loud and true for me. I grew up on Felix and Oscar. But this was my Felix and Oscar. Tony Randall and Jack Klugman. I liked the movie and all. I even saw the play on Broadway with Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick and loved that as well. Nobody .... but NOBODY could honk quite like Tony Randall.  These two guys were the perfect knuckleheaded duo. Like Frick and Frack. The clean and the dirty. Maybe I was always just impartial because I saw these two do it first. Never assume that the original will always be the best though. After all, as Felix says .... you know what happens when you assume. Whatever the case I loved this show from beginning to its drastically premature end.




10) THE FLINTSTONES-

So many great classic animated shows. Jetsons. Scooby doo. Fat albert. But if I am gonna pick just one and stick with it I have to head to Bedrock for the original kings and queens of the stone age. There was never a party more rocking than Fred driving around town on his bald feet. Whether cruising with Wilma,Pebbles and Dino or kicking up dirt with Barney and The Great Gazoo a blast from the past all the way into the living room was guarenteed.

In the "why couldn't they have just let it rest?" department I am going to credit Beavis and Butthead. No show lampooned mentally null and void youth better than this one. When it ended I have to admit that I screamed and begged for its return. So what happened? They brought it back for more in all of its inferiority. Be careful what you wish for people. You just might get it. Except that when you get it, you won't exactly "get it."

There you go. My favorites. I'm sure that I am forgetting a few and as stated before there are many shows that I loved particular periods of. But these are the ones I consider to be the best all the way to the end. The leaders of the pack. From bottom to top. Cream of the crop. The head of the heap. The tip of the iceberg. Top shelf on the top of the world. My world. I was a tv baby once and these shows were the kings of my world. Mike's world. Just call me Mike TV.

***Original post date 5/21/2012***