100 Years of Stupitube

It’s hopeless. Yet, I continue on. I’m continually rebuffed and rejected. Yet I plug away night after night. I am in search of a TV show that does not involve eating live leeches.

In my quest for quality TV, preferably something involving a cute vampire, I stumbled upon Desperate Housewives.

Desperate Housewives follows the lives of four housewives — a Martha Stewart type, a harried mother of four, a hard up divorcee, and a spicy Latina with a thing for the gardener. Oh, the stereotypes, you say? Lighten up! You should see how the men are protrayed — thoughtless, thankless, and shallow. I love it.

First impressions? There is absolutely nothing of any redeeming social or artistic value in this show. The acting sucks. The plots don’t make sense. The characters are two dimensional. But then keep watching. It is so bad that it is surreal. It’s a Gabriel Garcia Marques novel.

The suburban neighborhood is a parody of suburbia. Large homes with lawns and driveways. But the houses are too close, and the homes too large. Nobody seems to have a job, and everyone walks around in pumps and shorts. Every house has hot and cold running botox.

Strange things happen here. The hard-up divorcee lights her slutty neighbor’s house on fire by tossing a bra onto a candle. The place burns to the ground instantly leaving only the divorcee’s measuring cup. Damning evidence that will certainly come back to harm her. But the divorcee doesn’t seem that concerned about doing five to ten for arson. Nor does the slut seem particularly put out by the fact that a life time supply of hot pants have been torched. They are both competing to seduce the one single man on the cul-de-sac, and don’t you know, he has a few deep, dark secrets of his own.

What will happen next? Will someone fall asleep for forty years? Will it rain frogs? I’m hooked.


7 thoughts on “100 Years of Stupitube

  1. Oh dammit, I missed it. I forgot all about it.
    I loved the first episode. It was like eating an entire bag of Oreos. You know they’re bad for you, but it’s so darn goooooood while you’re eating them.


  2. Every damned one of the women in that show is a suburban woman stereotype: the hard-up divorcee, the serial-screwing divorcee, the nymphomaniac trophy wife, the Martha Stewart domestic control clone and the decompensating, overburdened mother/former career woman. Gah!


  3. Warren, no! I’ve watched parts of two episodes because my husband wanted to see them (and the TV and my computer share living space). While the meta-narrative might be interesting (just what was the dead woman hiding?), the characters and the hackneyed storylines they follow are as irritating as fingernails down a chalkboard.


  4. Laura, try Veronica Mars. No vampires, but a heroine who is smarter than Buffy yet just as cool.
    I’ve been watching Desperate Housewives because of Felicity Huffman, whom I adore. I will watch her in almost anything.


  5. I too adore Felicity Huffman, and I’ve been watching for her (*sob* Sports Night *sob*). But _DH_ is incredibly stoopid, and I won’t be sticking with it.
    _Gilmore_Girls_ has a darn smart script, even if the actors (except for the guy who plays Luke) aren’t equal to it.


  6. “Lost” is where it’s at. Not that I know, or anything, my VCR still on the top shelf of the closet where I put it when I moved a year and a half ago. I’m going to hook it up one of these days … honest.


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