Monday, May 23, 2005

I Hate 24.

There, I've said it.

As I sit in my home, labouring under Christine's psychotic "24 Rules", I have come to the conclusion that the Cult of 24 has taken control of my partner's mind, and the terrorists, sadly, have in fact won.

"24 Rules", for the uninitiated, demand no talking, no running water, no vacuuming (even during commercials) for the entire time the program is on. Supposedly that is one short hour, a mere sixty minutes, but it seems like an eternity!! And tonight it is two hours! One hundred and twenty minutes! Two eternities!!

Do all 24 fanatics get so testy when glaring errors of reality and/or probability are pointed out (in mime, naturally, since speaking is forbidden) ? My little crush on Jimmy Smits is NOTHING compared to Christine's crush on Keifer Sutherland. Who can blame her, though, for lusting after a guy who who plays another guy who doesn't need a bathroom break in 24 hours, never eats, and can face 10 terrorists armed with machine guns and come out, the only one still alive, with just the help of his trusty handgun?

24 is bubble gum for the brain. Not sugar-free gum, either.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's not just your partner. I think the reason the rule exists is the fact that half the dialog is whispered. Gotta agree with you about the quality also. Not only is the writing/acting junk, but it's also fear mongering propaganda.

10:27 PM  

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