9 December 2007
Tyranist and I go back a long way, and there's little we can't talk to one another about*. But like all relationships, there are certain lines that have been drawn in the sand that we know not to cross. I will never ask him to watch FORREST GUMP and he will never (again) make me watch David Lynch's DUNE with him.
But with "Veronica Mars," he just won't quit. Since before I moved away from Los Angeles, he's been on me to watch this show with him, either in first run, TiVo-ed, or on the many DVD sets in his possession. Always my answer is the same: "Die."
I've stuck by my answer time and time again, not because I have anything against "Veronica Mars," per se, or even against its lead, Kristen Bell (who was in the turd-smelling PULSE remake last year). It's not even that I did it to piss my friend off, though that seemed mildly successful. The damn show just didn't appeal to me. I don't like the WB/UPN teen dramas (with the exception of "Smallville" back in the day, and the very embarrassing exception of "Dawson's Creek" rather recently). They always make me feel old, unpopular, worthless, and very, very ugly, when they're not filling me with the uncontrollable urge to kill.
And tyranist tends to like everything, I kid you not, including stuff so bad it makes my nut hair grow back in. Plus, the show just looked like one that I wouldn't like. So there.
I went over to tyranist's house on Sunday, and as usual, he mentioned "Veronica Mars," and as usual, I told him to sit and spin. But when he was done, he brought it up again. And again. And again.
He wasn't being subtle about his determination to watch the show that night, and refused to take "Get bent" for an answer. At one point, he just got up and put the DVD in the player, like a child testing the boundaries a babysitter has placed on him, or a particularly horny dude after the school dance. I thought about getting up and leaving, figuring, "Ha! I'll go out in the snow and spend the evening all by myself, like I always do. That'll show him!"
But, for some reason, I just let him push the PLAY button, and sat in surly silence as the show began. The opening title sequence played, and with each face that appeared, I hated tyranist a little more. With every pop song, I could hear the disembodied voice of the announcer saying, "This fresh episode of 'Gilmore Girls' featured music from Maroon 5 and Raccoon Boy, available at the WB dot com," something I hate like my uncle hates women who ask for money afterwards, or you hate mandatory drug screenings. I do have to admit it was sort of cute when Veronica's father came onscreen and he said, "Come on, I know you love Enrico Colantoni." I didn't know who that was or who he played, but it is a cool name.
As the episode went on, I found a couple things to sneer at, and a couple of things to smile at, but it didn't push me either way. The show's characters were semi-interesting, and I had to admit I was intrigued by the mystery premise, but I was still sending the mental finger across the couch at the purveyor of this "entertainment."
Then it ended. Abruptly. And I had questions. He asked what I wanted to watch next, and instead of porn, "Buffy," Hammer Horror, or homeless people fighting, I said he could go ahead and put in the second episode.
This one had Paris Hilton in it. And she was playing herself. So that should've been the straw that sent the camel to Cedars Sinai. But the things that bothered me in the first episode didn't bother me so much in the second one, and the damn mystery still wasn't resolved, so we went on to the third episode. I had no complaints about that one.
Or the fourth. We watched the whole damn disc, and would've kept watching had tyranist not kicked me out. And I'm the guy who will never watch "Veronica Mars."
So, I'm listing this as my Stupid Thing of the Week. Not because the show was stupid, or because I was stupid enough into letting my friend con me into watching three hours of "Veronica Mars," but because I really enjoyed it, once more feeding tyranist's Louie Anderson-sized ego. Dammit.
Rish "Victoria Uranus" Outfield
*Does this look infected to you? Should it hang to the side like that? Is the smell normal?
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