Summertime Blues

Plinky looms ominously in the back of our mind.  If you don't know what Plinky is, there's a link to it on the right side of "The Solipsist."  It's basically a "topic generator."  We haven't explored the site that much, but every day the good folks at Plinky provide a topic on which one can blog.  We thought it was a cute idea, so we stuck it on "The Solipsist."  The problem is that the topics are all kind of "meh."  Today's, for example, is, "Martha Stewart is coming over for dinner.  What do you serve?"  We suppose there is room for creativity there, but at the same time, it leaves us a bit cold.  It sounds like something a desperate host of a dying dinner party would throw out in the hope of convincing people to at least stick around for dessert.  Our point is, we always have "Plinky" as a fallback if we can't think of anything to talk about, but we feel like it would be admitting defeat.

We came close today, but instead we thought we'd kvetch a bit about television.

(Digression: We could also kvetch about the fact that "kvetch" trips the spell-check.  What, no Jews at Google?!?  EOD)

TV is suddenly a vast wasteland.  What's up with the season finales of "House," "Fringe," and "Lost" all falling in the same week?  Now what are we supposed to look forward to?  It's a sign, we suppose, of how spoiled we've become with the "seasonless" TV season.  We can remember when summer was always a time of reruns and anticipation.  Over the last few years, though, it seemed like there was always something good on.  These days, though?  "Rescue Me," and that's about it--and even that, while enjoyable, is no "Lost."

By the way, we're somewhat ashamed to admit this, but we really don't get "Mad Men."  We've watched the first three episodes on DVD, and. . . well, again, "meh."  Yes, it's well acted and intelligently written--and we must say that it's absolutely beautiful to look at.  But when you consider the first three episodes as a whole. . . nothing really happens.  The central message of the show seems to be that men of the early 1960s were irredeemable chauvinist pigs, and women more or less accepted this as a fact of life.  We can see the irony underlying a lot of the characters' behavior, and we suppose the producers are making some deep meaningful point about a society and a way of life on the verge of seismic change, but, again, so what?  We'll watch the rest of season one, but so far, we're underwhelmed.

(Digression: Then again, we never understood the overwhelming appeal of "The Sopranos," either.  Another perfectly good show, but it just never really grabbed us.  The best TV show in the history of ever?  "The Wire."  Check it out.  EOD)

Speaking of "Mad Men," check out this picture (National Geographic's Picture of the Day from Saturday):

The orangutan in the London Zoo apparently enjoys mopping his own cage.  We, however, aren't sure what disturbs us more: The fact that the poor ape has to perform janitorial duties or the fact that his keeper is dressed like an extra from "Mad Men."  Is the official dress code of the London Zoo "1950s housewife"?   Any insight that Sloppists can provide will be appreciated.

Not today, Plinky!