TVSquad

If you haven't heard, the country is in a recession and things are getting bad. I spend every afternoon watching CNBC and weeping. My father, who deals in real estate, calls me every night just to scream and babble incoherently. My wife splits her time between loading up the Model T to head out west Californee-way and burning our quarterly financial statements for warmth.

We're on an economic roller coaster right now, and I don't mean a reputable roller coaster like at Six Flags. We're talking one of those death-trap coasters that even the carnies won't ride. The depressing thing is that the whole bag of crap we're in right now just seemed to come out of nowhere, like the last season of Roseanne. How did we get here? Why is this all happening now?

You might be tempted to blame the usual suspects: the president, the congress, the Stone-Cutters. But you'd be wrong. The real culprit behind this whole problems is Friends.

Judging from the amount of hyperbole being used each day on The Drudge Report, it appears that the nation might be sliding into an economic downturn. While a lot of you might be worried about this, I'm completely confident that the current presidential brain-trust will solve the problem and in no way will it lame-duck its way through the next seven months, leaving the economy's problems for the next poor schlub who gets elected.

So while most of the big media outlets focus on silly, soon-to-be-solved problems like "the economy." I've moved on to bigger and better things. In fact, I believe I have found the number one problem facing the next president and some practical advice on how he might be able to fix it. This is a problem that affects democrats and republicans, the rich and the poor, the old and the young, the black and the white. I'm talking, of course, about...

There's no denying it: we're currently living in a utopia. Not a day goes by that I don't thank my lucky stars that I get to live in the greatest country on earth during the greatest time to be alive. I think even the harshest critic of the current world order would agree with me when I say that there's not a single problem anywhere in the world that anyone is dealing with.

But how did we get here? What was the spark that spurred us from barely cognizant man-apes into the enlightened, elegant creatures that we are today? Look no further than that great black monolith sitting in your living room: your TV. Five VERY SPECIAL EPISODES that saved society after the jump...

Blogsmith, the software that we write TV Squad on, keeps a running tally of how many words we've written for the site. I can therefore tell you with precision that since I was hired in November of '06, I've written exactly 169,676 words of news, reviews, and opinion. While I'd like to think that most of those 169,676 words were entertaining, I have no illusions about whether or not they were helpful. My future brother-in-law is a surgeon; his job helps people. I write reviews of The Office.

That changes today. Last night, as I was drifting to sleep, I happened upon an idea that will not only make television better, it's something that we can all start doing right now. My idea, after the jump....

Here is an unimpeachable truth: anyone who wants to be president probably shouldn't be president. If you spend $400,000,000 for a $400,000 a year job, you're either stupid or corrupt or (most likely) both. In an ideal world, a presidential hopeful accepts the nomination with reluctance, George Washington style.

It's with this in mind that I'd like to start a movement to draft the one man who I think can turn this country around. The one man who has the credibility and the credentials to unite a society fractured by war and recession. The one man who connects with young and old; gay and straight; really, really gay and butchy gay. That's right, I'd like to nominate Simon Cowell for president.

Like a lot of writers, I have an idea folder (it's manila, but I have it covered in puffy rainbow and unicorn stickers, so it's beautiful). As each week progresses, I jot down all my ideas -- for columns, for stand-up bits, for ransom notes -- and at the end of that week, I take stock of my creative output.

This week, I noticed that there were a lot of ideas that I wanted to share, but that weren't quite big enough for a full TV 101 column. I attached them to the end of my last column in a section called "Dribs and Drabs." It was a good thought, except that it took an already bloated piece (my writing makes the Unabomber's manifesto look like a dream of concise thought) and puffed it up into a 3000 word monstrosity. My editor suggested I break up the Dribs and Drabs section into its own piece, and that, dear readers, is what I did. Dribs and Drabs, after the jump...

I'm not going to argue with Mr. Klosterman. I admire him so much that for a short while, I thought he was my own Tyler Durden (all the ways I wish I could be -- that's Chuck). If we are, however, to take Klosterman's argument as truth -- that Puck and Pedro realizing the cameras were on them was the TV equivalent of Skynet becoming self-aware and destroying humanity -- we must then look to the second season of the show as the moment when Miles Dyson started working for Cyberdyne. That is, the seeds for television's unraveling were sown not during the third season of The Real World, but during the second. As 2008 is the 15th anniversary of The Real World: Los Angeles, I thought it might be a good idea to take a look back at how it managed to ruin everything...