Smallville. I've only just recently become a viewer of this show. For all you Smallville obsessed people, please don't get angry at me for only having viewed the first season. I'm still a fan, I'm just not as far along as you. And if you tell me anything that might ruin some excitement for me in seasons to come, I will literally hunt you down and throw fiery acid darts at your knees.
Okay, so, when I started watching Smallville, I noticed changes in my behavior toward society. It was pretty gradual at first. For example, I would just HAPPEN to notice a leaf shaped like the upper left bicep of Clark Kent's arm...or a rock shaped remarkably like the meteor that brought him to our planet. But, it was within a very short amount of time, that my life became CONSUMED with projecting Smallville into my own world. This last Sunday night, I had a conversation that went something like this:
Katy: You know, if something bad were to happen, I'm really worried that Clark Kent wouldn't be able to come and save us.
Concerned Friend: Why?
Katy: Well, you see those lights over there? They're glowing green. Clearly, there is kryptonite embedded in those lights. Clearly, we're doomed if the singers on stage decide to eat us all.And the sad part is that I really sat there for a good, sweet forever contemplating all sorts of dark scenarios in which Clark Kent would have to battle the anguish of the crippling kryptonite to save our lives. And I'm not even gonna TELL you how often I get mistaken for Lana Lang's character. Seriously, you wouldn't believe me if I told you...
Oh precious Lord. Thank You for sending us this show. Quite possibly the most clever writing I've ever seen on a series. And, just like the other shows I watch on DVD, I got pretty consumed with evolving my world into one giant episode of Arrested Development. I even starting looking through phone books for charities whose main cause was fighting the practice of circumcision, but alas, H.O.O.P. (Hands Off Our Penises) is just a fictional organization.
And, at one point, I started driving toward the Oklahoma County Jail because I was just sure my dad would be there waiting for me in an orange jump suit, waiting to tell me what incriminating documents I should shred back at the office. Then, fortunately, I remembered that my dad is not a criminal, so I headed to work instead.
I think the most clear indication that I've watched too much of this show is my evident propensity to call everyone "Hermano" or walk up to someone and say "Hey, brother" while attempting to massage their shoulders. Mostly, I just get a lot of weird stares. Whatever.
Oh Jack. Sweet, beautiful, perfect Jack. My big, brave Jack. Out of all the shows in all the world, this one has changed my life the most. Not only am I now the type of American citizen who trusts no one and questions everyone, I am also very proud to go by the nickname of Chloe when I'm at home by myself. And, whenever I'm at work, I'll just say random things like "I need a level six clearance for the cartography images we've got posted back at headquarters! Almeda, I'm going dark! I may not make it out alive! Call Kim and make sure she gets out of the city! Damnit!" And, sometimes, when I type letters, I will include ransom notes down at the bottom for fun. Mostly, though, I just refer to everyone as Almeda, because Tony Almeda was my very own personal hero. He even saved me one time while I was trapped in a hotel after a terrorist had released deadly, poisonous gasses into the air vents. It was awful. I even lie awake sometimes at night and wonder what Jack Bauer is doing at that moment.
And, well, here's another image, because sometimes I live in this fantasy world too....
No comments:
Post a Comment