Chuck. Hands down. Funny hourlong with a bit of real love story among its satirized action, not sitcom-funny, tall goofy-cute geek lead, short annoying-funny sidekick, and in my rundown of promising cast for this year’s shows, how in the hell did I keep forgetting about I’ll-Be-In-My-Bunk Baldwin? (As an update, Private Practice and Big Shots are both well out the window at this point, and the other two are stacking up on TiVo. Slim pickings this year.)

P.S., Dawn Summers, the show is a parody. And a pretty sharp one at that. I bet you don’t like Weird Al Yankovic, either.

…to deserve a nightmare about Sylar coming after both Venomous Kate and me, with lethal intent, and other bad things happening, reminiscent of 9/11, in NYC?

It was slightly mitigated by the dream right after, which seemed somewhat post-apocalyptic but also in which I was involved with Greg House. Excellent.

I’ve mentioned before that I don’t read many novels. The one that is the subject of this post happened to catch my eye at Costco when I was in the mood to buy books. That line of florid dreck didn’t stop me from reading, but this might: Another of the protagonists says to her niece, on the subject of “What if Indians steal our food?” (the book is set during a wagon-train prairie crossing): “If you were hungry and someone had a picnic in your yard, wouldn’t you want to join them?”

Are you kidding me with that garbage, Ms. Kirkpatrick? And here I thought only Sesame Street was that addled. I can’t find a clip, but the sketch that caused my son and me to cease watching Sesame Street involved Baby Bear becoming irritated that Goldilocks always took his porridge, setting out to rewrite the tale so that she would take somebody else’s porridge, and eventually having a friend tell him he should re-write it so that there was a designated Goldilocks bowl waiting for her when she got there.

Teaching children that stealing’s okay because it’s always motivated by need and that in fact the victims should feel guilty about this need? Oh, and that stealing is “joining?” No thanks.

Results show. This week: Two shows, no waiting. Thank whoever decided House and Bones wouldn’t air tonight. And my Tuesdays are still bereft, even with those two goodies (no, they’re not on the same level, don’t bother accusing me of thinking so, but I enjoy both nevertheless), without the television awe that was Veronica Mars.

That famous choreographer who hasn’t performed on TV in four years? I seriously must not be cool enough, because that was fairly repellant.

Drew and Cheryl are much more my style. Even if Wayne Newton still is not. The season they won was the only season I didn’t watch. As Jeff Foxworthy says, won’t do that again.

Cuban’s not even in the bottom two? Damn it. Who in the hell will be? He and Floyd were the only ones who came close to deserving it.

Mel and Maks. Ouch. I have to say Jane deserves to stay more than Mel (slightly), so that’s appropriate given Cuban’s inexplicable escape. Next time, Gadget.

Bye-bye, Floyd. Thank you, thank you, for lifting the standard of the early-eliminated athletes up from Clyde Dreckler.

Len Goodman, I am ashamed of you. Cuban needs to go.

Sabrina and Mark: Sizzling paso. Even if it was to technopop. Deserving of every ten. Wow. Hey, don’t Sabrina and Mark look more than a little smitten with one another?

Jane and Tony: Didn’t Samantha say they’d never done the “Viennese waltz” before? As opposed to what must be a different kind of waltz that they do every season. It’s not hard to see why they’ve not done the Viennese before. It’s frickin hard to fit in those three steps every time and on the beat. It is not a slow dance. They seem off the beat. Hell, I’ve tried to waltz to “Piano Man” myself. Uhoh: Lift rule. Wow–who is adulterating Len’s coffee this year? Len brushing off the rule? It was a very minor infraction if at all. It was an exquisite waltz.

Floyd and Karina: Ugly paso. I knew whoever said last week that this would be his dance was wrong–the floating and bouncing that are intrinsic to boxing are anathema to the paso. Nice leap, though. No, Bruno, it is not his dance. Okay, people, let’s get this damn lift rule straight, because if it’s really about “something you can’t do on your own,” then it gets broken every week and is a dumb rule. If it’s about feet off the floor … figure it out.

Commercial: A farmer shilling for Oregon’s Measure 49. God forbid other people be allowed to build houses around your farm. Where “water’s already hard to come by.” Are they serious with this garbage? The voters already spoke with Measure 37. Good luck taking that away. (I love being able to just throw in state politics on the side–I have so many new Oregon readers thanks to Rachel Lucas! Woot!)

Mel B and Maks: Too much dancing before the music starts! Not attractive! Silly! I still cannot settle into the Viennese thing. They keep looking like they’re off the beat. Like the marching band at the football game last Friday–if you try to do halftime to 3/4 music, you’re off step every other measure. It looks ugly. Not the same problem here–the music is 3/4 and so is the dance, but they need to keep the step on the beat.

Len continues to pick on Maks, which cracks me up. Len and his heel leads. Heh.

Cameron and Edyta: Superman paso. Not a bad concept … She’s far more Princess Leia than Lois Lane. That’s a good thing. See, okay, the woman can’t drag herself, yet that could hardly qualify as a lift and it’s a standard paso move. Let’s get that rule clarified before next week. Wow, judges are happy.

Marie and Jonathan: Ouch. Doubletiming. That’s got to be even harder than the Piano Man thing, which is probably why they’re not doing too many actual waltz steps. That may hurt them with the judges … or not. Len’s infatuated. Bruno misses the character acting. I think I’m depressed at seeing Marie Osmond getting old, even though she looks good.

Jennie and Derek: Wow, she can bring the power when she needs to. Good for her. I can’t decide about the technopop: Hot or Not? It’s annoying, yet it seems to work. Again with the lift. How can you do a paso without one, is what I want to know. Ten from Len!

Helio and Julianne: They need to be building chemistry. It’s not working for me so far.

Welp, I didn’t intend to blog this so detailed-ly, but the eight for Cuban sent me into a typing frenzy. And, I watched it on the air night, for a change, and blogs are for blogging.

Cuban Must Go! On all counts, including Tom’s “think about who you want to see half-naked next week, and vote accordingly” criterium. Shudder.

That Cheetah Girl, Sabrina, is the Joey Fatone of the season. But of course we all saw what happened to him at the end.

Edyta Sliwinska, Production people who choose music, what were you thinking having people dance a tango to “The Beat Goes On?” Dumb dumb dumb dumb duuuumb.

Bruno Tonioli: For the love of God, shut the hell up when it’s not your turn.

I can’t figure out what Cuban’s problem is. He can do some reasonably good steps and seems to have energy, yet lacks the real explosive power of the real dancers and seems to have no idea how to move properly.

Wayne K. Newton, will you PLEASE GO NOW.

Okay, something that bugs me about this show every season: Judges, please make up your minds as to who you’re complimenting or castigating for the choreography and musical interpretation. Sometimes you lay it on the pro and the next minute you’re complimenting the star, in this case Marie Osmond, for knowing exactly what kind of portrayal works best for her. Make up your minds!

Part Two: Results Show.

Wow, Seal is not good live. Also he is not Elvis, whatever his pelvis might believe to the contrary.

Len compliments the field for a broader group of high talent than usual–more couples who set the bar high, as opposed to two or three really good couples and a blah backfield. But here’s the thing: The higher general standard this season is not up to the high specific standard set by the last six really great couples: Joey and Kym, Laila and Maks, Apolo and Julianne (and though they won, I thought they were third of three); Emmitt and Cheryl, Mario and Karina, and Joey and Edyta. Sabrina and Mark are very, very close to that standard, but unless some other couples start to push harder, it’s going to be a comparatively ho-hum season without those three or four fireworks couples to battle it out at the end. This can only be a good thing for Sabrina, however: Perhaps her great talent will have less trouble overcoming her lack of name recognition.

Billy Ray and Miley Cyrus: Hot or Not? Survey of Anwyn says: Billy Ray hot, Miley decidedly not. All I ever knew him from, obviously, was the Achy Breaky Heart, so hell, it’s a pleasant surprise just to find out he can play the guitar. Very sweet song for a father and daughter, but Miley seems to have forgotten she’s singing country. She’s trying to be R&B, she’s borderline out of tune, and her superfast vibrato is grating. Sorry, Hannah Montana fans, but you’re overpaying. A lot.

In other news, a rhumba–to a country song–and it actually works–!!! Maks and Karina, love it.

Nice feature about the music procedure.

I watch all this TiVoed, obviously, which is why I don’t have a TV blog–I can’t keep up with everything the exact night it airs, otherwise I’m sure I could fill up a TV blog and then some. But anyway, I always fast-forward through most of the talking that goes on. Just now when I had to start FF again, my comment: “Don’t talk to them, just eliminate them.” Kind of like, “Don’t name them, you’ll get attached!” Get on with it, already.

Okay, this new thing this year of having the judges opine right before they eliminate? Terrible. Makes the judges look like fools having to give advice for the future, not to mention lie about the present, to the star about to be booted off.

Eliminated: Wayne Newton. Thank you. Poor Cheryl. We’ll see you next year, babe.

Every time you vote for a famous name, like Wayne Newton, over some modicum of dance talent, like Albert Reed, you force the rest of us to watch truly crappy dancing for yet another week. Do not make Wayne Newton this season’s shudderful Clyde Drexler. Next week, make it “Cya, Las Vegas.”

Love,
Anwyn

P.S. I will settle for watching Newton two more weeks if you will send Cuban back to his courtside seat in Dallas.

Jennie Garth, Marie Osmond, Jane Seymour, Cheetah Girls, Spice Girls, yadda yadda yadda. A single comment by host Tom Bergeron upstaged all the dancing. After Mark Cuban spurted some macho nonsense at the judges, Tom’s priceless remark:

“We welcome the delusional here as well.”

It always gets me a little when pro sports guys, especially the equipment-clad NFL players, hug each other or take a minute to say something private to another guy after a game. Especially between members of opposing teams.

I guess it’s just a little heartwarming to see right up front in our culture the camaraderie teams engender for their participants. Puts me in mind of my TV Quote of the Week, from Bones. Übergeek Zack has returned from an attempt to make it in the military–he’s been shipped home from Iraq because he “failed to assimilate” and was “detrimental to a military team approach.”

Cam: You’re very good for our team approach.
Zach: The army psychiatrist told me that I should question why the Jeffersonian is the only place that I can fit in.
Cam: All due respect to the army psychiatrist, but that’s a hell of a lot more than some people get.

HOUSE IS BACK!!

You’d need caps too if you spent your last few weeks of summer slogging tortuously through last season’s Heroes. I’ve never seen a show with less consistency of characters, less explanation for events, or less emotional impact for more effort put in. First Peter learns to control his abilities, then he suddenly can’t control the nuclear thing. First Nathan hops on board with his elders’ preposterous plan to allow a foreseen nuclear event in New York with some vague and unlikely scenario of the “world being healed” to follow. I think I know what kind of nuts the writers were smoking in that pipe, if you know what I mean, and yup, it turns out it’s just as crazy as it sounds with Truthers say it. Then Nathan suddenly has an unexplained change of heart and swoops in to save the day. People dead left and right, and we don’t even care. Except Sylar. I would be very grateful if I never had to look at him again. Alas.

Am I the only one who noticed that “save the cheerleader” didn’t have any direct connection whatsoever to “save the world?” It might have if Claire had been the one to pull the trigger on Peter. As it was, what did it matter if she was there or not?

Bad writing. Bad show. Perfectly decent acting that really makes me hate the characters, but if there are too many characters to hate, why do you watch at all?

Don’t even get me started on Niki/Jessica/D.L./Micah. It’s a big word, but say it with me anyway: Ex-tra-ne-ous. I’ve never seen a more uselessly irritating set of characters.

I made it all the way through the season, so I’ll watch long enough to see what they do with La Bell. After that I’m gone.

Because in case you missed it before, House is back and every bit as good as ever.

And yeah, I know Dancing with the Stars is back too. They are pushing the outer limits of my tolerance with this multiple-nights-per-week schtick. Two was enough and more than. I’ll get around to it, but sorry, ABC, not tonight … House was on.

One of my church’s current Wednesday-night classes is viewing Islam vs. Islamists, the documentary that PBS really didn’t want to show. Maybe I can hold off from the church shopping awhile longer.

Unlike so many of her colleagues, Sally Field founded her “anti-war rant,” if it can be called such in the face of the far more strident standards set for those today, on simple disgust of soldiers dying without even offering to harangue over the causes of same. I don’t have much beef with that. She didn’t tell other people they should be “sending” their kids to fight; she didn’t claim deliberate deception masking appalling bloodthirst on the part of our country’s leaders; she didn’t even demand that all those mothers’ children be brought home without any regard for their own power of thought and choice or the consequences of such a decision by the government. And when told that the network had bleeped out her cuss word, she didn’t throw a tantrum. She was positively mild.

As far as I’m concerned, the worst thing she did was look like a moron while screeching at the audience and then having to dig deep to remember the last line of her own silly profundity profanity. But embarrassing herself at the awards has always been one of her trademarks, right?

Eah. After slogging through a few episodes of Brothers and Sisters last year, I let the rest of the season accumulate on my TiVo. We’ll see if I get around to continuing it.

PS: Memo to a few of the blogs I’ve read on this topic: The woman’s name is Field. Not Fields.

Update: All that said, however, of course she was dead wrong about that whole “if mothers were in charge” BS.

Even if the best mother EVER was Queen of the Planet, someone somewhere would still need to have their ass kicked, and she’d have to send somebody’s child to do it.

There’s much, much more. (H/t Sarah.)

Update x2: I’ve never read Rachel Lucas before. She’s funny as hell and I’ve blogrolled her, but I must also hate her for the specified period of time for getting “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” lodged in my brain like a splinter in a, shall we say, hard-to-reach place.

Update x3: Amen, preach it, sister. (H/t the Creator of Worlds. What, you don’t think I read Perez, do you? I’m much too busy trying to plow through the rest of last season’s Heroes. I realized today that Hayden Panettiere played Ally McBeal’s egg-donor daughter or whatever the deal was with that shark-jumping mess. And also, Kristen Bell looked gooood at the Emmys. Mister Natalie Maines behind her there is cackling about how playing a Republican jerk is scoring him points at home, if you know what I mean.)

Eah.

I’ll start the season, but I don’t know how long they’ll keep me with a list of majority hardly-knowns like that. Well, that’s overly harsh, since most of the stars from all seasons have been low to moderately famous. Basically, I’ll be in it to see how Jane Seymour, Jennie Garth, and Marie Osmond conduct themselves.

And it’ll be a fight to watch long enough for Truther backer and troop-smear financer Mark Cuban to go down in flames. (H/t: Ace.)