Cynical Nation

Last night after American Idol, this damn thing came on, and I was too lazy to switch the channel.

God, was it annoying. Forget about the horrific dialog and the sophomoric script; I'm used to all that. It was, however, a full hour of sanctimonious political correctness and pop-feminist posturing. The premise of the show was the investigation into the death of an L.A. hooker who had such a poor self-image that she became addicted to plastic surgery.

Most of the action took place in L.A., so we did get to enjoy the delicious irony of listening to the show's characters preen and rail against the pernicious "cult of physical beauty," all while the cameras are gleefully wallowing in it (a volleyball game here, perfect, sun-tanning blondes there, you get the picture.)

Anyway, the point was that we're all to blame for this girl's death, you see, by living in a society that places such a premium on feminine pulchritude. Plastic surgeons, moreover, are more responsible than most. They are "barbarians" who "destroyed" this girl as surely as her actual murderer, and deserve to be arrested as well. Mind you, we didn't have to listen to this soapbox once or twice. It was seemingly another tirade every 30 seconds or so. I grew impatient after the second one.

There was also this subplot about two scientists trying to do some kind of forensic archeology on some old mummy, or some damn thing. The project was a conflict-ridden collaboration between two male scientists who repeatedly butted heads. The show's supporting actress attributed this conflict to male insecurity about their penis sizes. (Of course, what else could it be. Original too, right?)

In the end, at the final confrontation, the more senior scientist decides to walk away before the conflict escalates further (on the sage advice of Supporting Actress, of course.) The younger, more belligerent colleague is left standing there like a dummy. But just in case the audience is too dense to "get it," Supporting Actress walks up to him and beats us over the head with it. "You think you've actually won something, don't you?" She asks. "Goodman was the better man."

Thanks for spelling it out for us. It's a good thing I got enough lecturing and thought reprogramming in that one hour to last me a lifetime, because I won't be tuning in again. I can think of no valid reason for ever sitting through another episode of Bones. I mean, the lead chick is kind of cute and all, but she could really use a nose job... and maybe something done with her eyes.

In short, I give Bones the finger. I'll have to watch two hours of 24 just to get the tast out of my mouth.