There are only two things in life that I am entirely certain of.

1.) I am a genius.
2.) Most other people are not.

So what’s the secret to my success? Well, not to give anything away, but it’s television. Yes, that’s right. Television. That thing that you’ve long suspected of slowly sucking the intellect straight out of your head over the years? It doesn’t have to be that way. I’ve cracked the code. I only watch good television. The kind of television that makes you a better person. What kind of television is that, you ask? Well, I can’t tell you, because then you’d know and I’d be at a disadvantage. And I just can’t have that.

But the amount of good television that I watch is overwhelming, and I can’t keep up with it. So, in order to deal with all of this great television that I watch which makes me smarter and better and funnier and more fun to be around, I talked my wife into getting a DVR so that I may be constantly recording and watching television at all times that I am awake. For reasons that I’m still unclear of, she agreed and I was all set. Cable guy’s coming by next Tuesday to hook me up. The world, at last, would be in perfect alignment.

And then the writers went on strike.

Son-of-a-bitch, I cry to the heavens! How can television entertain me without quality writing? The answer? It cannot possibly. The fine line between good television which enriches while entertaining and bad television which makes you slightly suicidal cannot possibly hold. In place of The Office or House or Lost, I will instead be deluded with unscripted crap like American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance? and Big Brother. And I won’t be able to hide from it, because my new DVR will see to it that I cannot escape. There will be no mercy. Television, which once enriched my life so, will now waterboard me within an inch of my life.

I now succumb to the inevitable. Take my brain, Mr. Television Set. I no longer want nor need it. If anyone needs me, I will henceforth be dancing with the stars.