It's just this little chromium switch, here... (derspatchel) wrote,
It's just this little chromium switch, here...

Today's "You Go, Girl!" award goes to Channel 5 sportscaster Bob Halloran, who folds up a copy of the Boston Metro ("News For People Who Move Their Lips When They Read", according to the paper box in the Davis T stop) into a little paper box-like thing and uses it for his soapbox:
Sometimes the "power of one" is like a spit in the ocean, and other times it can start a wave. Either way, the power of one is empowering. It makes the one feel like he's making a difference--or at the very least, trying to. Only occasionally have I tried to make a statement and use the power of one as a consumer.


More recently, I've decided never to watch "Rescue Me" again. It was a great show, had great characters, unique plot lines and small doses of comic relief. But in the final episode of last season, they killed Denis Leary's kid in a drunk-driving accident. That's all for me. I'm done with it. And I'm hoping others will follow me in my consumer revolt so that television shows will stop confusing the death of a child (even a fictional one) as entertainment.
Way to go, Bob! That'll show Leary and his hack show, which added the death in there for the obvious cheap laugh. It's about time someone took a stand against this terrible televised trend -- oh, sure, we laughed when it happened on Everybody Loves Raymond, and the kid dying on the series finale of Friends provided much-needed comic relief amidst the nostalgic tears and farewells, and "America's Funniest Child Deaths" was, really, the best midsummer replacement ever. But now enough is enough, and it's got to stop, and it's going to take a man like Bob Halloran (who forbade his 11-year-old son from watching the Drew Carey Show--known around these parts as "Gomorrah Rocks!"--because it got too randy) to start the stop.

So consider this your slow clap, Bobby H. I'll be your One Lone Person who starts the applause, one small clap at a time: Clap. Clap. Clap... until others join in and the speed of the clapping picks up and builds and builds and builds until, at last, there's a grand ovation.

No, wait, this is just the Sarcastic Slow Clap. Sorry, my mistake. They blur together, the two.

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