Book 2, Eating the Dinosaur

Like George Costanza ordering pesto, I don't know why I continue to read Chuck Klosterman. It's probably because I have no choice if I want to read someone compare David Koresh to Kurt Cobain; he's got that market cornered. For the most part, Klosterman's contrarian positions and strange comparisons make for an entertaining read, but taking in an entire book of his in a short amount of time makes me want to rip out my hair at his argumentative style, where things that could be presented rather matter-of-fact seem self-consciously couched in philosophical jargon to make it sound more interesting. In a chapter about how he hates laugh tracks, he writes -

When Liz Lemon says something on 30 Rock that isn’t funny, there’s always the paradoxical possibility that this was intentional; perhaps Tina Fey is commenting on the inanity of the “sitcom joke construct” and purposefully interjecting a joke that failed, thereby making the failure of her joke the part that’s supposed to be funny.

Or: Bad jokes can be funny (or see: Kenny Bania or the entire show-within-a-show plot arc in Seinfeld, which existed purely to comment on the inanity of the "sitcom joke construct" and did it with a laugh track. Not to defend laugh tracks.)

Klosterman is aware of the worth of what he does, but sometimes seems overly satisfied with himself, which can edge him into asshole-ville. Here he describes himself-

I understand Turtle’s motivation and I would have watched Medellin in the theater. I read Mary Worth every day for a decade. I’ve seen Korn in concert three times and liked them once. I went to The Day After Tomorrow on opening night. I own a very expensive robot that doesn’t do anything. I am open to the possibility that everything has metaphorical merit, and I see no point in sardonically attacking the most predictable failures within any culture. I always prefer to do the opposite, even if my argument becomes insane by necessity.

It doesn't bother me until he is just utterly satisfied with something stupid -

unasked question about The Office: In both the American and British versions, the program is shot as a documentary. The characters are directly interviewed and often acknowledge the camera crew with knowing glances. But why is this office being filmed? Why is someone making an around-the-clock documentary of these ordinary people, even when they leave the building? What is the purpose? And when, in theory, would the filming conclude?

In the British version, the Christmas Special revolved entirely around re-visiting the people in The Office 3 years after the documentary was released and they were originally made famous. I haven't seen it in a while, but David Brent's entire story in that special revolved around how he has been trying to milk the little celebrity he attained to start his music career. They haven't dealt with this in the American version, but they most definitely have in the British. I wouldn't be surprised if the American version followed something similar in its final seasons, or not. Whatever.