Someone on my Facebook recently posted that they had overheard this spoken in a comic book store:
Asking us why we don’t watch The Big Bang Theory is like asking a self-respecting gay person why they don’t watch Will and Grace.
I’ve tried to like The Big Bang Theory. I really, really have. Perfect Husband and I keep tuning in and trying to make it through an episode. So far our record is three in a row during a marathon before we tapped out.
The Big Bang Theory Has Some Good Points
I love the character of Sheldon, who clearly has Asperger’s syndrome but is coping beautifully with it. He’s the only character who actually seems comfortable with who he is, and I find him the most believable personality, even when he’s being completely outrageous. Pretty much all of the show’s best lines come from him, too.
Even better, they actually do hire scientists to write certain parts of the script, so the philosophical nerd banter, the equations scribbled on the blackboards, and most of the references are completely accurate, putting shows like CSI to shame with their actual correct use of SCIENCE.
The show is filled with little Easter Eggs that only real nerds/scientists/geeks would pick up on, and jokes that laymen wouldn’t get.
And PH and I do guffaw at all of those little moments that are clearly aimed at amusing the geeks out there:
Why did the chicken cross the Möbius strip? To get to the same side.
A neutron walks into a bar and asks how much for a drink. The bartender replies, ‘For you, no charge.’
Hee hee hee!
Oh, he mentioned Occam’s Razor!
Oh, he dressed as The Doppler Effect for a costume party!
I know what those things are and so I shall giggle in glee because I feel so clever for getting their oh-so-nerdy jokes!
But that’s what it comes down to – even those delightfully nerdy jokes just leave us feeling dirty and used, because we know that those jokes are the result of Chuck Lorre and company trying to butter us up.
I have talked about the messages behind Twilight and Harry Potter, and now, I think, it is time to actually discuss these two ladies as writers.
I know, crazy talk.
There are many different aspects of writing, so I’m going to try and go through them individually, since each writer has strengths and weaknesses. There are a lot of aspects to consider, so there will be a fourth round as well.
I’m going to give Stephenie Meyer a head start…
(A note about spoilers: I will keep Harry Potter spoilers to a minimum, only letting go the kind of information that you could pick up from your standard movie trailer and have probably picked up on already, unless you live in a world without other people. Twilight spoilers, on the other hand, abound, because I can’t “spoil” Twilight any more than I can “spoil” a compost heap.)
A year ago, I dragged my pregnant butt down to the Fair at the Pacific National Exhibition, and waddled around in the sun all day with Perfect Husband. I was 9 months pregnant, due to go into labour at any second, and determined not to miss my chance for mini donuts before Babby burst his way into my life.
This year, we went back. Babby was still bulging around my belly, but he was 10 pounds heavier, outside of my body and actually much less encumbering than 12 months before.
Why drag our baby/my pregnant body to the PNE?
Because it is AWESOME.
There are cows and horses and little bunnies to look at, which I like.
There are booths set up hawking all kinds of as-seen-on-tv products.
But mostly, we love the food.
Like a hotdog on a pretzel bun, SMOTHERED in macaroni and cheese, with crispy fried onions.
Or deep fried Pop Tarts.
And most importantly, mini-donuts, those little cinnamon-sugar bites of heaven.
We walked around for so long that even Babby eventually passed out from sheer awesomeness.
I gained three pounds after our day there. But since I’ve lost five, I’m still ahead of the game and it was SO WORTH IT.
So, shortly after we returned from Nova Scotia, a package arrived in the mail.
I had asked my mother to mail us Beloved Dog’s old X-pen, so we could fence off the “entertainment” side of our living room. That whole wall was one big hazard, as has been pointed out by my readers.
It works great. We have the pen set up along that wall and Babby can’t get to the DVDs, or the Nintendos, or the TV, or any of the many wires that run along in there, not to mention the glass shelves of the TV stand. He pulls himself to standing on the fence and hopefully reaches through, but to no avail.
Of course, now our living room looks like this:
Look, it works, ok? Our baby is safe, and so are our possessions. THAT’S THE IMPORTANT THING.