TV 101

Dear Apple, Roku, Google, Sony and all the other companies who are gearing up to connect our TVs to the internet:

Greetings from the future! As you will one-day know, ever since a well-meaning historian tried to warn Archduke Ferdinand of his (SPOILER ALERT!) 1914 assassination and accidentally caused 'Two and a Half Men' to happen, time-traveling has been illegal here in the future. Luckily for you, the guard at the time machine is addicted to future-booze (a lot like your own booze, except a million times more powerful) and fell asleep, allowing me to send this letter back in time.

And it's an important letter. See, 2010 was the year that you all decided people wanted streaming media from the internet on their TVs, but none of you actually did it right. It took decades for it to be sorted out!

So I'm writing this letter to speed things up a bit. There are three major things you're doing wrong and I have the solutions ...

This week, PETA helped make a completely forgettable Chrysler commercial into something funny and kind of wonderful.

The ad in question is for something called the "Dodge Big Tent Event", which is designed to both move end-of-model-year vehicles and test America's tolerance for misusing the word "event". In it, as cars roll out of a tent, Michael C. Hall of 'Dexter' narrates that the "event could not be more amazing," at which point a chimp wearing an Evel Knievel costume shows up and presses a dynamite plunger. A meek explosion of confetti follows as Hall deadpans, "I stand corrected."

PETA, an organization always at the forefront of the most important issues gripping both man and animal, immediately protested due to the poor conditions "actor" simians must face, including -- but not limited to -- hanging out with Matt LeBlanc, sleeping with chimp producers for chimp roles, and boxing Clint Eastwood.

Chrysler responded to the criticism by self-censoring the commercial. And it was one the rare times when censorship actually made something better...

The other day I was Googling for pictures of Christina Hendricks naked researching 'Mad Men' online and discovered that there's a new book called 'Mad Men and Philosophy: Nothing Is as It Seems'.

'Mad Men' thus joins the ranks of 'The Sopranos', 'The Simpsons' and 'Lost' as TV shows that have earned their own '...and Philosophy' books. If you've never passed the "New and Noteworthy" table at Barnes and Noble, here's how the books work: they use characters and situations from pop culture as jumping-off points to discuss different philosophical ideas.

It's a great racket. Other than drug-dealing or arms-manufacturing, there's no better way to make money in America than by helping pseudo-intellectuals pseudo-learn something. I want a piece of that pie!

So that's why I've written a new book 'Jersey Shore and Philosophy: How to GTL Yourself to a Better Life.' Read on for some choice passages.

Sometime in the far future, after the zombie apocalypse and the Seldon-predicted collapse of the empire, historians will look back at this period and try to puzzle out just who Simon Cowell was. A king? A sentient robot? A god?

It'll be hard for them to understand -- did a British guy in a nipple-hugging sweater really have more ink written about him than Lady Gaga and Lindsey Lohan combined?

But it's true: Simon's departure from 'American Idol' and the domino effect it's had on America's favorite show has dominated the news for months. Last week, I followed the reports about the show's judging changes like they were dispatches from the front line of a war.

The thing that's surprised me most about the search to replace Simon (and Ellen ... and Kara) is that no one has suggested the simple fix for the problem: the producers should have let America vote on it.

Last week on vacation, I read the book 'Soccernomics' by Simon Kuper and Stefan Szymanski. It's a kind of 'Freakonomics' for soccer, but they mention the NFL enough that none of the bullies at the beach beat me up too badly for reading it.

One of the many points that the authors make is that sports teams that actually try to turn a profit inevitably begin to death-spiral. The best teams are those that operate like a non-profit charitable trust, where every penny is put back into improving the team. This is why teams are owned by crazy rich people (George Steinbrenner) tend to do better than teams that owned by just regular rich people.

At the same time I was reading 'Soccernomics', I was living vicariously through my nerd brothers who were blogging about attending Comic-Con (because that's what you do at the beach). So, of course, it didn't take long for me to reach the obvious conclusion: TV needs a Steinbrenner.

LeBron James went on TV last week and made everybody in America hate him.

The reason for all that hatred couldn't have been just what his decision actually was. I mean, the guy moved from Cleveland to Miami -- the only justification you need for that is to remind people that you moved from Cleveland to Miami. The only two people who think that's a bad move are Ian Hunter and Dan Gilbert and it's not clear that either of them are sane.

No, LeBron's downfall had nothing to do with sports. What hurt LeBron was that he made the one mistake that is unforgivable in America: he screwed up on TV.

Last week Hulu announced plans for its new Hulu Plus service. Immediately following the announcement, internet commenters from around the world did something they rarely do: complained long and loud about the details of the announcement.

"The price is right, but they're still going to have ads? No thanks!" "So let me get this straight, they're giving us access to all the seasons of 'Arrested Development' -- which we already have now, for free! -- except now they want us to pay for them? Choke on your own genitalia and die, Hulu Plus!" said the usually very reasonable denizens of the interwebs.

While I'm never one to doubt the insightfulness of snap decisions, I think in this case the complaints are wrongheaded. Sure, the announced set of features for Hulu Plus leaves a little something to be desired, but get beyond that. What we're seeing right now is a game changer. Hulu Plus is about to take over the way we consume television.

Blogging about television is a lot like going to marriage counseling: you have the best of intentions, but for the most part, you just wind up doing a lot of bitching.

I'd like to say that I've never engaged in the easy sport of blog-bitching, but in order to make that claim, I'd have to delete everything I've ever written here on TV Squad, then make a midnight ninja-run at the Googleplex in order to remove all those blogs from the cache. I don't have the time for that -- I mean, the ninja training alone would take me two decades (or three minutes depending on whether I can find a ninja training academy that allows montages).

No, it's far easier for me just to own up to it. TV, I've bitched a lot about you over the three and a half years I've been writing for this site. And I owe you an apology.

Rejoice, America! 'Futurama' returns this week with brand new episodes. Between that and the world cup, all I need now for my summer to be complete is for Spike to greenlight my pitch, 'Christina Hendricks and Jenna Fischer put on Leia-Style Metal Bikinis and Wrestle for the Right to Make Me a Bacon Sandwich' (working title).

However excited I am about the return of 'Futurama', part of me can't get over the fact that it should never have been canceled in the first place. What's worse, if the quantum physics I learned by watching 'Sliders' is correct, there exists at least one universe where 'Futurama' wasn't canceled. Not only have the people of that alternate universe gotten 10 uninterrupted years of Fry and Leela, I have it on good authority that their version British Petroleum didn't spill oil into the gulf, but rather delicious caramel. Clearly, 'Futurama' makes the world a better place.

So, in honor of 'Futurama', let's take a look through our own "What If" machine and see what some other alternate universes look like.

Like most of you, I spent the first 30 minutes of last week's USA-England World Cup match convinced that I was having a stroke. As it turned out, the buzzing I was hearing wasn't the result of my neurons being shut down by a burst blood vessel in my brain, but rather from a traditional South African horn called the vuvuzela.

The vuvuzela is the most horrifically annoying torture device ever devised by man. The only problem is that since I've been watching so much of the World Cup, the sound of it fades into the background and I occasionally forget to be annoyed by it.

There's nothing worse than when something annoying becomes omnipresent, like the buzz of the vuvuzela. Because once an annoyance becomes commonplace, it's all too easy for it to become the new status quo.

The vuvuzela is just the latest in a string of annoyances that TV watchers have had to put up with ...

I know a few things about apologzing.

I've been married almost six years, so I've spent pretty much every day between July 25, 2004 and yesterday apologizing for something. I used to think it was my actions that caused my wife such grief, but I've learned in recent years that the main problem she has with me is my continued existence on this plane of reality. We're gonna work though it -- we've called in a philosopher, a metaphysician, and a voodoo priestess -- but in the meantime, the state of our marriage has given me some insight into the art of a good apology.

Here's what I've discovered: celebrities who go on TV to apologize don't know what the hell they're doing.

During the 'Lost' finale, I tweeted the following:

"So the key to the whole thing was putting a cylindrical object into a hole? #enjoyingthesubtext #lost"

Okay, so not the funniest update in the world, but pretty good considering I was not only distracted by the finale itself, but I was also karate-fighting a future version of me who had traveled back in time to stop me from watching the last fifteen minutes of it. So, you know, a lot was going on.

My tweet was met with some anger from my West Coast followers because they felt it had provided an unwelcome spoiler three hours in advance of them being able to watch the show. That anger, combined with recent comment threads on TV Squad got me thinking about spoilers and people's reactions to them.

Here's what I've figured out: You people need to calm down.

Spoiler Alert! The 'Lost' finale engages in mumbo-jumbo. Also: hocus-pocus, rigmarole, chicanery and (perhaps worst of all) gobbledygook.

Last Sunday's 'Lost' contained the most shocking revelation in the show's history: that after we die, we meet our loved ones and then walk into a big, bright light. Yes! Shocking! Did you just have your mind blown?! Er...

Fact is, Sunday saw the moment when one of America's greatest science fiction shows decided to end its run with fifteen minutes of uncomplicated non-denominational spiritualism that wouldn't be out of place on a mid-season episode of 'The Ghost Whisperer.'

As a science fiction fan, I'm offended by this ending, the same way I was offended by the last episode of 'Battlestar Galactica.' It's not because I'm opposed to gobbledygook (I am, after all, a Catholic), it's because both shows used their finale episodes to pretend that they weren't really science fiction, but something more.

And I call BS.

The Internet very rarely rallies around a single cause (and even when it does, that cause is usually "famous woman in sex tape that I want to see but not pay for"). The last time that I can remember a time when the Internet was truly unified about something that didn't involve nudity was in October of 2006. That was the month that every single person on planet earth decided that they absolutely hated Nikki and Paulo on 'Lost.'

The Internet didn't just spew vitriol about Nikki and Paulo, it fire hosed it like Lardass Hogan at the pie-eating contest. 'Lost' writers couldn't help but notice and in short order something that was supposed to be a multi-episode arc for two new major supporting characters very quickly morphed into one rushed episode and two very gruesome deaths.

As 'Lost' speeds along to the finish line, Nikki and Paulo have been showing up in a lot of retrospectives as one of the show's few mistakes. I agree that Nikki and Paolo incident was a mistake: The writers of 'Lost' should have never listened to the fans on the Internet.

Recently, fans of NBC's 'Chuck' decided to stage flash mobs as a way to raise awareness about a show that seems to spend 99% of its time on the cusp of cancellation.

There are two things wrong with doing this. The first is that the solution to the ratings issues 'Chuck' has is obvious (and one that I've written to NBC about several times). California State Law prohibits me from outlining here exactly what my idea is, but just know that it involves Yvonne Strahovski, a string bikini, and several gallons of apple butter.

My second problem with the flash mobs is far more complex and nuanced, but if I had to sum it up into a sentence, it would be this: anyone who participates in a stunt to try to get a show to remain on the air is dumb.