Attn: Everyone / Re: Zach fucking Braff

February 23, 2008

Random – this is random… I’m suddenly angry and I need to write this down:

There are two kinds of people in the world:  People who look at the show Scrubs as a great sitcom… just boiling over with sassy, funny characters as hilarious as they are zany.  And then there are people like me, who look at the show Scrubs as a cloying bit of pandering shit which insults not only my intelligence, but my emotional sensibilities.

"This is a judgment call… and I’m making it:"

Grown men should not like Zach Braff. 

Ideally, nobody should like Zach Braff… but I’m giving young girls a pass on account of the fact that they’re stupid. 

Everything that’s wrong with The Family Guy is also wrong with Scrubs.  The show operates on the notion that quick, random bursts of pop-culture references are funny… and that a script need not be more than a few sweaty handfuls of them.  I’m really disappointed by this.  But, of course, it gets better: Somehow the writers of this show also convinced the producers to allow them to include moist little moral fables in every episode – wherein one/all of the main characters pause for a moment, and reflect on the sadness of a sick girl, or the end of a relationship… all to the strains of some weepy song by Coldplay or Ben Folds or some other talentless, effusive fraud. 

Admission time:  Yes, I liked this show when I was 20.  I saw the first season when I was in college, and liked the fact that John C. McGinley was getting work, as the last thing I saw him do was have his legs set on fire, scream "No! Noooo!" and fall to his death in The Rock – still his best performance.  I let my love for McGinley blind me… blind me to the ass-suck-ness of Scrubs… and to the ham-sandwich-ness of his performance.  He’s just awful.  The whole damn show is just a giant carnival of overacting and unearned tear-jerkers.  Seriously… they use the same music cue philosophy as Full House.  "Uh oh… Comet’s dying of heartworm… he’s crawled under Michelle’s bed to die!  Have mer-cyyyy!" <sad music> We all remember how that show worked.  Compare it to Scrubs and the limp-wristed fauxlosopical introspection of Braff’s whine-bag, child-of-divorce narration.  Honestly… the basic plot outline to the show is the concept of getting chestnuts of wisdom from a 30 year old man with a 15-year-old girl’s perspective on life.  Not even.  The dude’s a fucking tween.

I’m nearly 27 years old now… I can be weepy… I can be introspective and maudlin.   We’ve all got the potential for evil like that.  I watched an episode of Scrubs the other day… expecting myself to like it the way I did when I was 20, a time when I was an emotional cripple who pined over ex-girlfriends and wrote love poetry in a japanese-themed journal.  I remember actually thinking things like, "nobody’s going to love me," and "I hate being so misunderstood."  I really acted like that.  Most 20-year-olds do I think… when they’re not drinking themselves into a stupor.  I think I liked Scrubs because the characters on it were as pathetic and as whiny as I was.  Well I’m about as old as they were when I liked this show… and my god… MY GOD!!! 

Grown men should be as nauseated by this shit as I am.  Grown women should look at JD (jesus, even his goddamn name is juvenile!  Well, what do you expect from a grown man named Zach.  All Zach’s are eight-years-old with blond bowl-cuts and a powder blue polo shirt on.  You see Zach’s mother, and she’s still hot.  She’s got blond hair too, long legs, and a huge diamond on her hand.  You think to yourself… damn… I’d like to have sex with Zach’s mom.  And then Zach throws a tantrum, and she ignores him, and continues to drink her chai latte and read her Brides Quarterly magazine… and you forget that you want to sleep with her, and fantasize instead about throwing Zach in front of a truck.  That’s a Zach.) – sorry about that… I’ll pick up from where I left off – Grown women should look at JD, and indeed Zach (shudder) Braff, and snort.  They should see him for the prancing Peter… no… not even a Peter Pan.  Patricia.  The should see Zach Braff and EVERYTHING he does for the Patricia Pan-ness of it… throw their drink in his face, and then walk out and sleep with a guy whose whole existence isn’t predicated on impressing everyone with how deep and soulful they are.

Men, women… avoid Zach Braff.

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