# of times so far today that I’ve had to seriously fight the urge to say “Blow Me”
Found this to be an interesting read. I know someone who did Dorm Crew!
Was pretty excited to read this Slate article, given my complex history with sleep-away camps (seriously you guys, there is A LOT of material there, one day I’ll get it out there), but while the idea seems ‘brilliant’, I found the execution to be seriously lacking. Not only does Timothy Noah let himself off super easy, he makes the even grosser mistake of throwing in a Humble Brag about his own kids. Puke city! Get them out of there!
But really, also, this is just stupid. And inflammatory. That’s on purpose, right? And I guess if you want to write a stupid and inflammatory thing about sleep-away camp (“If the person who really, really enjoyed camp is a man, then he is unlikely ever to develop an intimate relationship and on occasion may be spotted in the back of a police cruiser speeding away from a grade-school playground”), FINE, but make it more obvious that that is what you are setting out to do. Because this was just disappointing.
If you could sum up Friday Night Lights with one sound or motion, it might be a sigh. FNL never trafficked in good vs. evil in the way of Harry Potter, it was concerned with smaller nuances, but in the way that FNL was chiefly about good people trying to do good things in a difficult world, whether on a team or in an Order, the two were cousins. Though based on a movie and a book, there weren’t really any expectations for Friday Night Lights the way there were for old mister wizard. No the surprise of FNL wasn’t that they somehow pulled it off, it was that NBC managed to make a warm and wise and deeply human show, one that taught us things about people (and ourselves!), that was about football. Football! All-American brutality suited-up and beer soaked. And yet, in this show’s shaky and wandering lens, lovely, too. And important, in an unexpected way. You see, of course, the show isn’t really about football. Football is just the metaphor for the struggle and grunt and defeat and victory of Life Entire. And while this might seem like a beating-over-the-head kind of theme, FNL handled it with a delicate, warmly winking grace. It knew we were on to it.
The great tragedy of FNL isn’t a Potterian melange of orphans and fallen heroes and terrible sacrifices. This show’s tragedy is, of course, that nobody fucking watched it. I was once the person on the other side, rolling my eyes about all you devotees, saying “OK, OK, I get it already, now please shut up.” Of course I later came to learn the error of my ways, and I apologize deeply to everyone everywhere for this mistake, but so many tragically didn’t. But while the show’s general unpopularity — NBC dumped it on Direct TV after three seasons, but miraculously didn’t outright cancel it — was disappointing in a lot of ways, it was also kind of fun, wasn’t it? This little Texan secret, this beautiful swoosh of afternoon light and twanging wistful music that was all ours, just the happy few of us. So, like in Potter, the sad part of FNL became something pretty, too. I do wish, though, that the show’s ending was getting some small amount of the fireworks that its English cousin is getting.” —
Richard Lawson, a writer I love