Willow Rosenberg for President and Spike for Veep

WHAT is the greatest television show of all-time? WHO gets your four spots on Mount Rushmore?

Preparing this list is a toilsome task. The sheer volume to sift through in your mind, and then the scores of subsequent searches to satiate your salient sentiment solidifying your sound selections. In the end, no one ever agrees on the shrine you construct. WHY? Because these indexes are deeply personal.

Most can, (or certainly should), agree the true Uncle Walter – (I am referring to Mr. White out in Albuquerque) – is debatably the most fascinating transformation of a main character ever seen on the small screen. While without Tony Soprano’s narrative, there is no Heisenberg.

The seismic shift occurred when we commenced our celebration of villainy. No longer were we cheering on Buffy Summers vanquishment of the Hell Mouth. These amendments to the medium included abandoning MacGyver and his ability to make a submarine from a dish detergent bottle, to salivating when Dexter pulled out a fillet knife to finish off his latest victim.

Volumes have been written on this subject, yet less is centered on the why regarding our change as viewers. The obsession seems to be focused on HOW it took so long to arrive at this rather obvious decision to embrace the evil among us.

Was it inevitable we stop wishing Chuck Brown would finally throw a no-hitter, kiss the little red-haired girl, and tell Lucy to blank-off, while demanding all his nickels back for her sh*tty psychoanalysis? WHEN were we hoping Benson DuBois would get the keys to the governor’s mansion? WHERE were we going after leaving Stars Hollow? Did the characters become too safe, virtuous, and indecisive, thereby forcing our hand?

Perhaps the “scripted,” “reality” TV shows of the 90’s coupled with the (oxy) MORONS in office, left us with no alternative but to seek refuge in the antagonist of our stories.

Life imitating art has never been more rampant. This should be a positive occurrence. However, now the bad boys and girls are directing everything.

Was it inevitable or was it innate?

I remember watching Batman as a kid but never considered hoping the Joker would triumph. It was second nature to applaud the hero after they spoiled the criminal’s master plan for world dominance. Nice guys finishing last was something we lamented, not rejoiced.

Wasn’t it in us all along?

Hard to believe we just woke up one morning and decided not only was Los Pollos Hermanos providing the finest ingredients slowly-cooked to perfection, but it was managed by Gustavo Fring, a lecherous evil-doer we actually admired. Fring’s commitment to revenge and independence was unparalleled. We delved into his backstory and it provided the insights required to intelligently cast or condone our preconceptions.

Fleshing out anti-heroes through brilliant fictional plots, while real-life leaders were being exposed for their glaring deficiencies, coincided perfectly during the turn of the millennium. People were reacting to the characterless heads of state and their transgressive behaviors. The lines went from straight, to curved, to blurred, to transparent. The multitudes were no longer accepting the hypocrisy of government officials as being anomalies but instead realizing they were commonalities.

The duality of persona has always existed; however, where have all the alternatives gone? Pundits will try and convince you the rise of the anti-hero is the evolution of art, in television. Yet, the rise of men like Jimmy McGill didn’t develop from a desire to have more felons on the boob-tube. It resulted from the obligation to offer an outlet for the viewer to safely decompress from the insincerity of those who promised change.

Wendy Byrde, I mean Hillary Clinton was not fooling anyone. Pretending there was still a champion in the midst had passed. Somewhere between Spike saving Sunnydale and a reality tv star becoming president the populace comprehended crusaders and defenders of the faith were not vastly different from rogues and scoundrels running for office.

The days ahead will necessitate patience, compassion, and clarity. These upcoming months are not going to follow any screenplay. We need to forge the path of tolerance and progression on our own. There is no protector coming to save the day, nor can we continue to romanticize the sinner as an acceptable alternative.

When you need your fix from the telly, instead of chilling with the latest serial killer faux-documentary, maybe turn to simple wonders and see if Kevin Arnold and Winnie Cooper ever got that last dance.   

Did You Know? The first television drama, The Queen’s Messenger, was broadcast on September 11, 1928, from station WGY in Schenectady, New York. The show was transmitted simultaneously on separate radio channels for picture and voice.

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