#but its hilarious that they were so lazy they accidentally became progressive

[adozentothedawn]

Please share with me the joy that is being jump scared by not one, but two "romances" in the Dead Kel dlc after an entire game of absolutely fucking nothing.

And now, the glorious comment on the discord on this entire situation:

[hudsontfreeman]

Noticing (or a Case for Seinfeld Living)

It’s really impossible to know definitively, but I’d say I’m about halfway through the fourth or fifth season of the second reboot of my life’s tv show.

This is more of an estimate - I’m not really sure how I’ve been dividing up the seasons. Obviously, the first season was the 3-4 years at the beginning where nobody really knew what was going on and the protagonist was kind of just there. He was arguably, more of a blank canvas for the audience to see themselves through, as the real protagonists (his mom and dad) did all the expository heavy lifting. To be fair, this was just an introduction to the series and audiences were at least impressed enough for it to be renewed.

The formula found its bearings in the second season, as most successful shows tend to do, and stayed more or less on track for ten seasons till adolescence prompted a hard reboot. I can’t stress enough how much the show changed: episodes varied widely week to week, multiple characters were booted, the previously so-called co-protagonists of the show (those rascally parents) occasionally became outright antagonists, etc… It was quite frankly, not that great of a show, and in many ways traded the lack of conflict of its predecessor, with an abundance of conflict rarely resolved. It was not a show anyone was enjoying and the second college reboot was a welcome return to form.

This latest season is not half bad. We’ve got a lot of good series-wide story arcs going. There is a fair amount of midseason conflict, reoccurring characters that are staying relatively fresh (with the exception of Trevor), a decent theme song (it’s currently some experimental jazz from hell), and I’m really feeling like the protagonist is “starting to figure out what his deal is”, so to speak.

It is important to note that the protagonist has “started to figure out what his deal is” many times before this season, so I wouldn’t necessarily trust his judgement, but the confidence is remarkable.

He, at the very least, seems to finally be able to admit that he is not a cool person, which is certainly progress. Naively, though; he is convinced that this admission might very well be the first step to eventually becoming cool.

Most engaged viewers know this is a misstep.

~

“Life’s not like a movie” might be as useless of a phrase as it is pervasive. The assumption of the phrase implies that everyone is going around living their lives like the main character in a blockbuster comedy - cartoonishly pursuing their dreams, accidentally falling in love, and somehow, repeatedly being surprised when things don’t work out the way they think things should.

This is clearly false. No one thinks like this.

No one thinks everything will work out. No one thinks they’ll get everything they want. No one thinks their life is simple. No one thinks they’ll find the complete answer to the question they’ve been asking all along.

No one is nearly as naive about their existence as we seem to think they are. And I don’t think people watch movies and TV shows because they want these things either.

Sure, maybe there is someone out there who says they want life to be this uncomplicated, straightforward thing, but no one actually believes them. Nearly every person I’ve ever met genuinely believes that they are the true pragmatist. Has anyone ever actually met a consciously sincere idealist? Who wants to be the sucker?

Perhaps I’m generalizing, but I don’t think people watch television or movies, read books, and tell stories because they are innocently convinced of the simplicity of their narrative structure or because they want to vicariously live through that simplicity either. People are not starry-eyed, gullible children, nor do they wish they could be. People reflect their lives through story, not because they make life seem simple, but because these stories make life seem meaningful. I would go as far as to say - they don’t just make life seem meaningful, they remind them that it already is.

~

My friend Trevor and I believe genuinely, that we are this latest generation’s reincarnation of the 90’s sitcom, Seinfeld. He is George and I am Jerry, respectively. We’ve drawn out many of the parallels over the course of our friendship and I will list them here now:

- Trevor is short and stocky (George), while I am tall(er) and lanky (Jerry).

- My friend, Sam (Kramer) often walks into my house unannounced, hair lopsided, looking to “borrow” things from my kitchen.

- We routinely complain about our lives at various diners/coffee shops loudly and with little sympathy for the people around us. (The plot of the show)

- We improvise neurotic standup routines about the absurdity of mundane life and our own selfishness. (Much like George and Jerry, these routines are more sad than they are funny)

The only thing we’ve failed to find a direct parallel for is Elaine, as perhaps the most unrealistic aspect of the show, was the fantasy of anyone staying good friends with their ex.

All of these specific comparisons aside, I think what Trevor and I really like about this joke, is the idea that the only difference between our lives “in the real world” and our lives as tv characters, is the perspective that comes with observing rather than experiencing. What I mean by that is to say, there is something inherently and beautifully constructive about observing years as seasons, days as episodes, and people as characters. They become features of the life we are actively noticing, not just necessities of the existence we are passively being forced to endure.

As many sad, 90s-sitcom-obsessives like myself know, the significance of the creation of the Seinfeld rested in the catchphrase Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld sold the show on - it’s “a show about nothing.” The idea of it was, if you take a comedian like Seinfeld and put him in a variety of mundane settings, the jokes will come, not from heightening his experiences, but by letting him endlessly interpose his observations on the absurdity of the mundane itself. But I don’t think that’s significant in the way people may think it is.

Yes, George/Jerry/Elaine/Kramer are funny, goofy people with above average neurotic tendencies. Yes, it is a situational comedy written by professional comedy writers, building narratives out of the ways standups get their material. Yes, it broke many mainstream television conventions and historically broke the formula of the sitcom. But I think the most brilliant thing Seinfeld did, is definitively inspire the tacit belief that everything is worth paying attention to. Maybe, it’s worth noticing because its infuriating, or ridiculous, or hilarious, or disturbing, etc… But absolutely everything demands to be noticed.

In the fourth season of Seinfeld (arguably the best and most influential season), George and Jerry begin developing a TV show in much the same way Seinfeld and Larry David did four years prior. Throughout episode after episode, they go back and forth trying to come up with some fresh idea to wow NBC executives. This goes on with some degree of expected laziness and hijinks till George finally has it. Ever the meta-self-referential goldmine, George decides it should be “a show about nothing.” NBC executives are neither wowed nor thrilled, but the pilot get’s made, and all the characters in Seinfeld get remade in the show-within-the-show - “Jerry”. This was genius for two reasons.

It justified itself as a show by explaining its own concept directly to the audience through the show itself. (Perhaps the reason why this season skyrocketed the shows viewership)

It explained how television works, and more importantly, it explained how stories work.

The characters of Seinfeld, much like the characters of any story where the writer takes the time to describe them, are just bizarre people living in our bizarre world. Brought to their logical conclusions, television characters are human beings incapable of not observing the particularities of their existence. They go to the same coffee shops, they hang out with the exact same people, and they can’t stop scrutinizing the smallest detail of, or change, to that reality. Television shows remind us that the details of our existence are interesting.

The characters we surround ourselves with can be the funniest people in the world when we notice why they do what they do. The job we spend thirty to seventy hours a week at can be the weirdest thing in the world when we notice how ridiculous it is. This year can be a not-so great season. Tomorrow can be a particularly great episode. The television show we’re participating in can be surprising and disappointing and funny and sad and predictable and strange, but its a show we choose whether or not to watch - just watch it!

~

Sometimes, when I have a bad day, I go home, I go to bed, and I narrate out loud, “Hudson was not having a good day.” It almost always helps. Not because it reminds me that I am an insane person and that’s funny, but because it reminds me that I am a character in a movie I am watching, not just playing a role in. I am the protagonist of my own movie, playing a character in other people’s movies, learning how to notice why we’re in a movie at all. Any moment that we don’t realize that, that the story is meaningful, whatever it is, is a moment lost to ourselves.

"Life’s not like a movie” is a pointless phrase that doesn’t mean anything about anyone. We know life is not simple, but we want life to be consequential. Stories tell us it is. So we remind ourselves by telling the stories and listening to the stories and vice versa and on and on till we're dead and death is always a pretty good story too. (Almost always a great tv show or movie)

Life may not be painless or easy, but it is certainly interesting. Movies, television, novels, myths, comics, plays, etc… Those things are at their best when they remind us that the only difference between letting living pass us by and actively choosing to experience existence, is the amount of attention we pay to it. The latest season of the tv show that is my being is sometimes pretty rough, especially when I’m arguing with Trevor about who the main character is, but it is not boring. I can’t ask for much else.