Nobody would be surprised, I think, if I passed judgment on an apple based on its outward appearance. If I saw a wormhole or a large rotten spot, nobody would say, “How dare you judge that apple without eating every bit?” Nobody would say, “How dare you accuse that stinky fish with the clouded eyes and dull scales of being a bad fish? Who are you to be so cruel!”
Yet there’s this strange idea going around — that’s it’s forbidden to tell anyone that a piece of art strikes you as bad, and that you don’t intend to waste time or money on it. As a rational consumer, I am here to tell you that this is not true.
Works of art are not people with souls. I can judge them however I like.
Let me clear up a few other matters:
This is my blog. Its purpose is to express my thoughts, feelings, and opinions.
No commenter, no TV producer, and no anime voice actress is paying for my cable or employing me to stay home and watch everything. I will continue to watch only what appeals to me. If the idea doesn’t appeal to me enough to turn it on, that is the TV producer’s problem and not mine.
If a TV producer does not offer anything appealing to me, I am obviously not his target audience.
I have every right in the world to advise others, even at the top of my voice. I do not have the right to expect them to become my adoring clone worshippers — and neither does anybody else have the right to expect that of me.
I have a friend who loves The Shield. I, however, do not love The Shield, nor any of its works and pomps. And why should I? It is not my kind of show. Equally, I do not expect my friend to have a road to Damascus moment and decide that he will devote the next two years of his life to The Tale of Genji or the study of Gregorian chant. My friend and I know each others’ opinion on these subjects; and if he does not expect me to change my opinion on a show so dear to his heart, why on earth would a comment box stranger expect me to rewrite all my likes and dislikes?
I have an open mind; but it is a mind, not a blank slate. I am a full-grown woman, not a baby bird gaping to be fed whatever regurgitations that writers deign to provide.
So there are some things I would not watch were I paid to do so. Even less will I perform such spiritual drudgery while being charged for it, in the form of commercials. But don’t worry. If Vince Gilligan wants my business, I’m sure he can write a premise more to my taste. (Given the fragmented nature of the market, he doesn’t have to.)