Live TV is a lost phenomenon. It still exists on local
newscasts, but for the most part, even live awards shows and that most heinous
of all walking-dead cadavers, the thing that used to be a comedy show (called,
quaintly, Saturday Night Live), “package” their being live.
The cast members or hosts crack up at what’s going on, thus letting us see “behind
the mask.” They let us laugh with
them instead of at them. (At the fact that what they’re reciting is really bad
comedy, or that they are reading it straight off cue cards or a prompter — who
knows?)
The joy of seeing live TV is experiencing a true surprise, or of watching something go down in flames. The clip below is both, of course. It is a Funhouse perennial, the only way for me to celebrate the feast of food and pre-Yuletide despair, obligation, and depression. For a few seconds, let’s put all that to the side and watch Robert Vaughn being mocked by clowns (most likely Macy’s employees, or relatives of the parade’s organizers) at the Thanksgiving Day Parade.
Happy Turkey Day, all!
The joy of seeing live TV is experiencing a true surprise, or of watching something go down in flames. The clip below is both, of course. It is a Funhouse perennial, the only way for me to celebrate the feast of food and pre-Yuletide despair, obligation, and depression. For a few seconds, let’s put all that to the side and watch Robert Vaughn being mocked by clowns (most likely Macy’s employees, or relatives of the parade’s organizers) at the Thanksgiving Day Parade.
Happy Turkey Day, all!
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