Fall is awesome

When I was a lad I ate four dozen eggs every morning to help me get large. Also, I found fall to be the least exciting season of the year. I had really bad seasonal allergies, which made breathing and talking difficult tasks. Plus there was school. I hated school.

Now that I'm grown and eat five dozen eggs, so I'm roughly the size of a barge, I'm all about fall. For starters, I live in the San Fernando Valley in Southern California. Summer gets HOT. But in September, the daytime temperatures float around the mid 70's to low 80's, which is fine by me. My more recent infatuation, football, also returns. And for the third year in a row, the Cowboys opened their season with a win.

But the most robust addition to my life in the last third of the the year is the return of television. Specifically, new television. More specifically, new scripted television.

I've been known to complain that there's too much to watch. Right now I'm working through Medium on Netflix, and haven't even started on Mad Men. But in reality I know that that's like saying, "I have too many peaches to eat in my kitchen." There are much worse problems to have. And really, it's even better than that because unlike peaches, if you don't partake in good TV it doesn't get all gross and moldy.

Welcome back Richard Castle and Ted Mosby, Architect and James "Sawyer" Ford and Jack Donaghy. Give five hurrahs, give 12 hip-hips. Television is the best and the rest is all drips.

Judgments and so forth...

Generally speaking, I subscribe to the notion that one should not judge a book by its cover.  Generally speaking.  There is important data that can be extracted about a book based solely on its cover, whether it be metaphorical or otherwise.  Example, if one does not wish to read a book about dragons, one should not invest time in a book with a dragon on the cover.  And if one doesn't wish to date a nerd, maybe don't hit on a girl wearing a Princess Leia '08 t-shirt.

This was the thought process I employed when promos for "Important Things with Demetri Martin" first made their way to my television screen.  I assumed that, like so much in our society, the title was meant to be ironic and that this Demetri fellow would instead drone ad nauseam about inane things, Napoleon Dynamite-style.  No, I didn't like that movie.  Let's put that behind us and move on.  I'm not sure what made me want to give Mr. Martin a fair shake.  I'll chalk it up to free time and a mild curiosity.

My sense of humor was cultivated in Death Valley -- that is, it's dry.  As a result, I wholeheartedly agree with his policy on who should throw stones and when.  Apparently the brand of his comedy is not news too regular viewers of "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart".  I was impressed to learn that each episode of his show is devoted to tackling a matter that is (to some degree or another) important.  This is an instance in which I'm glad to have been wrong.  Now I have another stand-up comic whose work I can enjoy.  He's probably not for everyone, but if you like words, you're in for a treat.

À la Rufio

Admitting this will undoubtedly damage my nerd-cred, but I was late to the Joss Whedon party.  I never watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel despite enjoying the movie many have forgotten.  By the time I would have been open to the idea the breadth of canon in the Buffy-verse created a whole new obstacle.  I am constrained by a 24-hour day, which is not enough to consume all the media I wish I could.  Maybe one day I'll see what the big deal was.

As the life span of Whedon's space western was only marginally longer than that of a bolt of lightning, I missed out on Firefly's original run as well.  I suppose that makes me partially responsible for its cancellation, so my apologies to science fiction enthusiasts.  Not having been a Buffy fan, I was wary of Malcolm Reynolds and his crew.  But praise of their exploits on the big screen as the next Star Wars sold me.  I maintain that naming the series after the class of Reynolds's ship -- or vice versa -- is a little bit weird.  That aside, I really got into both the series and the movie.

When Dollhouse arrived, I suppose there was no reason for me to be cautious.  I fully endorsed the portion of the Whedon anthology I had experienced, but the previews just didn't hook me.  When I did invest the necessary time in the new series' first three episodes, I was disappointed when the aspect of Firefly that most spoke to me was absent.  I didn't care about a single one of the characters.  Three episodes deep I could see the general direction in which Mr. Whedon and Ms. Dushku were likely heading, but the cost was too high.  I was not willing to invest an hour a week for the promise that one day I might care about the tiny people in the box in my living room.  I cared about Jack Shephard within 10 minutes.  He was saving lives out of the gate!

Last night I was introduced to Richard Castle, and with him a second theory to explain my affinity for Captain Reynolds.  Perhaps Joss Whedon's role was less than I had assumed.  After all, my personal experience in his work was limited.  I now believe that Nathan Fillion, in all of his snark, gave the character and his series the lively spark to which I attached.

There is a new show that I will watch on a weekly basis.  He has Whedon's sword.  He's the Pan now.  My loyalty has shifted... Fil - li - oooooooon!

I wish I still cared about Peter Petrelli

My take on serial shows is that once I invest in them, I'm in for the long haul.  I have to know what's the deal with the island, who the mother is, and in this case how people with abilities and people without them will reach resolution.

As many of my other compulsions sometimes do, this has become inconvenient.  When I first decided to jump on the Heroes train it was because I was particularly interested in the stories of a few of the lead characters.  So I Netflixed the first two seasons, and caught up on this season on Hulu.  It was a fun ride for a while, but things about it are beginning to get under my skin.

First of all, no one dies anymore.  In fact, the last major character to die was one of the ones whose story first hooked me.  I don't even almost care about the new character that the actor is playing.  Not that I need to see people dying to be entertained, but the sense of dread any time someone could die is gone.  And when *spoilers* Noah was brought back to life after being shot through the eye?  It's a good thing that happened at the end of an episode, because I would have missed the next 45 seconds as my eyes were rolled to the back of my head.

Next, the title character... Hiro Nakamura.  Again, one of the characters who first hooked me.  I really dug his origin story, but as the series progresses I feel like his character is becoming more about comic relief and less about what it means to be a hero.  I'll freely admit that I could just be looking to see him as the funny guy, but that's the risk the show runs when he says things like "Greatu Scott!" in extreme close-up*.  Masi Oka is a funny.  But every time I see him being funny I give a little sigh because I thought he was funnier on Scrubs, and have hoped that Franklin would reappear at some point.

In effect, I now only watch the show out of habit.  I'm out of characters to care about.  The Bennett family never did it for me, although I am glad that Sandra is less of a damsel in distress.  But Claire needs to stop making out with every dude she meets who isn't a relative.  Peter needs to decide once and for all a happy-go-lucky smart alec, or a brooding tough guy.  Suresh is kind of a tool.  The whole Sylar side story feels like it was concocted just to give him something to do.  And what's up with Parkman falling in love with a girl who's like 15 years his junior at the drop of a hat?  I watch TV for characters.  If I just wanted to see people with cool abilities, I would spend my evenings looking up parkour videos on YouTube.

*to date this has been the single funniest moment of the series.