Sunday, December 03, 2006

Two Comments on TV

There's a Volvo ad, something about, who would you give a Volvo to?, that gives me the creeps. I'm talking about the one where a guy picks up a child from a school bus and drives away. He's a kind of creepy-looking character actor guy--basically normal, but with a creepy edge. He's putting a child in a car, and you can see a school bus in the background. She's gabbing non-stop. He gets her in, trying to be patient. But he seems nervous, and looks around after he gets her in and before he shuts the door. Then he nervously walks around to the driver's side, gets in and drives away with relief evident on his face. They then drive away down an empty highway through a forest.

So this is, who would I give a Volvo to--a non-custodial parent trying to kidnap their child from the school bus stop?

Now, the Food Network, which we watch for no good reason, as there are no longer any decent shows about cooking on it. If you want to learn to cook, don't watch the Food Network. It's basically food porn. All the shows are about adding as much butter and cream, or other saturated fat, as you can to any food you might be preparing. The live audiences oooh and aaah every time a chef puts a lump of butter into something, or adds a bunch of cream or sugar, or uses bacon fat. I mean, come on--it doesn't take much talent to make any food you prepare taste better by added saturated fat. That's what saturated fat does: enhances and makes fuller any flavor, as well as adding creaminess, richness, etc.

Or it's about watching some food traveler/voyeur go to various parts of the country and ingest the most pornographically rich food imaginable: giant portions of various cakes, candies, pies, etc., that have double-this and double-that in them, that don't stop with just a little saturated fat, but add three or four kinds to its preparation, as well as extra loads of sugar.

Paula Deen is just a heart attack waiting to happen. Are we watching these programs like people watch NASCAR races, waiting for the crash or the cook to drop dead of cardiac disease--or are we watching them to imagine what it would be like to indulge in food pleasure at every meal, accelerating our own progress toward cardiac arrest, revelling in imaginary food sex acts?

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