Yes, I do watch Fox's Bi-annual witty Forensics offering "Bones". I've also seen the infomercial for "The Magic Bullet" at least twenty times. Probably not the whole way through, but 25% counts as a full viewing. What strikes me about "The Magic Bullet" is its versatility, because when I make Fish-head Pâté, I'd like to be able to turn around and make frozen daiquiris without rinsing the container, no small feat. And to have a slightly less powerful blender that I can also use for cutting up schwag and turn slightly more around and use it to Purée (2-2 on French words today, God only knows where I found an accent aigu) a deer carcass, that's a kind of black magic I'd hope not to encounter anywhere else. It's versatile, but also so well supported by an interesting cast of characters in its promotion. There's the British spokesman for a touch of class, the 40-something painfully enthusiastic spokeswoman straight from that well-received Lepra-Gone Cleansing Pads spot, a group of skeptical audience members sitting on a bar interacting with the hosts, whom I might add, are best represented by the bald-forty something alcoholic on the left, and the 70-something cigarette churning housewife on the right for that extra hint of skepticism, and several other bland young people who fill in the gaps. The Magic Bullet slices and dices and blends and chops and cuts and shreds and hacks and rubs a soothing ointment on burns. My point is, the product is simple and effective and conjures a need for something that is not really there. I am not thinking of a simple way to make all of my food smaller and closer to baby-food. And still, if the timing is right, and I feel bad enough about myself, and The Magic Bullet Informercial is shot at me from YOU television, I will watch. And if "Bones" is on and there is no glimmer of anything else entertaining on television anywhere in my apartment complex I will watch. But "Bones" doesn't have a snappy British host to add sophistication, nor does it have a washed up 40-something spokeswoman. There's not even a badly selected studio audience wanting to know more. What we do have, is the hate-child of the screenwriters from "Dawson's Creek" a wooden, inhuman forensics prodigy incapable of feeling even the most basic emotion. This is used for comic effect throughout the show as she attempts to interact with actual half-human castoffs from "Buffy the Vampire slayer" and TV purgatory. In the most recent episode, Bones is trapped in a buried Ford Taurus where she is sentenced to death by suffocation. Unfortunately for everyone viewing, dramatic music kicks in and our compatriot is able to fashion a signal to everyone conveinantly waiting above, using the car's airbags to spray a puff of dirt into the air. Overall, I'm happy that the actors on the show have jobs in these tough economic times, but completely horrified that these particular people are paid and have jobs in these tough economic times.
