Wednesday, May 16, 2007

A media diet, here defined, is the temporary exchange of overwrought entertainment for lighter fare, and it’s something I’ve faithfully kept since last I mentioned it, which is far more than I can say for my health regimen. Bacon double cheeseburger with the works, pound-and-a-half of fries, all the peanuts you could possibly unshell and eat? It’s a sublime feeling best described by the French as “like a pig in shit.” That’s High French, by the way, and it’s unavailable in traditional curricula.

At some point during 300–most likely during an expensively shot yet horrible scene, but that doesn’t really triangulate things–I felt very tired. It’s a fatigue years in the making, borne from an endless goulash of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings and various superhero movies. There’s a threshold where, once crossed, your cerebrum must stop bingeing or risk explosion. If I need an action fix these days, it’s got to have that spare aesthetic, so something like The Bourne Identity or Children of Men. Here’s a rule of thumb: if your media doesn’t blare a seven-part choral arrangement whenever some guy swings a sword, swings and misses, you’re probably safe.

The appetite for TV shows, however, continues unbroken. Heroes is the current squeeze, and much of the appeal rides on the pacing. It’s certainly not the special effects because, as it turns out, you actually don’t get points for trying. The fact that the writers plotted the arc for the long haul is encouraging. Those ABC shows I once considered staples were apparently written for a single season, after which the programming quickly became planes without a pilot. Even if Heroes doesn’t work out, though, there are alternatives on queue. House. Bones. And other single-worded dramas ready to round out a full media portfolio. I’m diversifying.