Well the humidity has arrived in NY, and today (maybe) will bring news of whether a stadium will arrive with it (I hope not - public funds should not be used to finance a private stadium, especially with the stomach-turning news in the nytimes about growing income gaps and the cold class war being waged). On any other year (well, during the past 5 or so) I would try to remedy my worries by tuning into Six Feet Under tonight (or Sunday night as used to be…), but in all honesty I think I have given up on the show.

I like the Fishers. I really do. I think they were great characters. But that doesn't mean I am going to sit there and watch them make every wrong minded decision a person can make and then wallow in the pity of problem as though they were at all unexpected. Even just reading the briefly about the new season has me wondering if the Fishers are just the dumbest people known to man (re: Claire moving in with Billy: Darling, why not stand in the middle of freeway at night wearing nothing but black while wrestling with an angry pit pull for a piece of Ebola infested meat?). I know Alan Ball and the show's smart writers are supposingly offering insight into the human condition, but after four seasons of seeing these character constantly fall victim to their own frailties (except perhaps Keith and David) it's all wearing a little thin. Perhaps my disillusionment lies in a fundamental disagreement with the shows core tenants - I believe that people can change and grow, and that life is not a series of miseries with only brief flashes of happiness to keep us going.

I'd much rather watch a movie or two for work, hide a bottle of vodka behind my back so club prowlers don't try to steal from it, or hang out with my friends as they try to commandeer an ice cream truck to take us to a NewFest party.

(and yes, I know the title to this entry is an awful pun, and that no one really cares about my opinion on this show - but, hell, what are blogs for?)