There are? Why?
The writers and/or creators of a show affect my decision to watch much more than the show concept, and often more than the stars. I've seen too many talented stars in crappy shows. But a good writer can make anything interesting.
Besides, it makes my decision-making simple. I don't have to hear what Neil Gaiman's plot is, or what the next Discworld book is about, or what Joss is doing these days, or which superhero Brian Michael Bendis or Peter David is writing. I see the names, I buy the stuff, I'm pleased and entertained.
And, clearly, lazy.
I went with the Heavy Duty Reynold's Wrap for the SotU.
Excellent. I've been using the single sheet dispenser for mine recently, but it's letting too much in through the cracks.
By which I mean to say, I hope it was clear that I was including myself in the abnormals up there.
The writers and/or creators of a show affect my decision to watch much more than the show concept, and often more than the stars. I've seen too many talented stars in crappy shows. But a good writer can make anything interesting.
ITA. But I have to say, before I dipped my toes into fandom, I doubt I could have named a writer on a show I watched, or would even have thought to do so. Creators, whatever that means, and producers get some name recognition - I'm not convinced that writers do outside of the fannish world. Which is wrong like a wrong thing, but there you go.
I have found the best defense against the SotU is to watch West Wing dvds, particularly the eps about the SotU. Aluminum foil rips and gets caught in my hair.
See, I was thinking I needed to stage my own little protest by having unmarried non-procreative sex, preferably while speaking french. Since that doesn't seem to be on the cards, I might grab a glass of wine and some smutty slash fic and retreat to the bathtub.
Interesting mail? In a perfect world, that Smallville column would have gotten you baked goods and offers of marriage.
That was good stuff, Chris.
I'm going to read the Bill of Rights and rock myself while sobbing.
And then I'm going to look through magazines for a new hairdo.
Oo, I like the idea of unmarried non-procreative sex, but unfortunately I don't think I can arrange it in the next 22 minutes.
I might go watch QaF, as my own little protest.
So, I just made my friend (who knows nothing of my Sooper Seekrit Buffista life) watch Wax Lion.
E: Hey, you whoever wrote this was just meant for you.
Me (started): What?
E: This chick's just like you.
Me: Nuh uh.
E: She talks just like you. She works retail!
Me: SO?
E: She's 24.
Me: Lots of people are 24.
E: She lives in a trailer!
Me: I moved out of the trailer!
E (later): She loves her bartender.
Me: I do NOT love my bartender!
E: You kissed him on your birthday!
Me: I was drunk!
E: SO IS SHE!
I don't think I'm letting her watch anymore. Nothing like a friend to point out what a retail-working, bartender-kissing, birthday drunk you are. But she seemed to like it, if not quite toaster-worthy.
Lilty, do animal shaped objects tell you to do things?
