The plan was to talk about how House just keeps getting better and better. I’ve liked every episode — with the exception of “Hunting,” because I’m sorry, what Chase did was freaking sexual assault — but since the two-part “Euphoria” last season, it has consistently gotten that much more awesome.
Last night was no exception.
But here’s the thing. And I know, I really must stop visiting some forums, because people can be so obtuse sometimes. I finally had to stop visiting the Grey’s Anatomy forums on ABC.com last year because my blood pressure was increasing with every misspelled proclamation of love for McDreamy that was otherwise devoid of any logic or rationality whatsoever.
Anyway. There was someone somewhere talking about how he or she hasn’t been that impressed with House because of all the medical inaccuracies and then proceeded to rattle off exactly what wasn’t realistic. Um, I’m sorry, but the main point of TV is to entertain. Let me say that again: entertain. If you are so concerned about the medical inaccuracies on shows like ER, House, and Grey’s Anatomy, here’s a thought: go watch Discovery Health. Or better yet? Go sit in an actual emergency room. My brother is a surgeon and he is forever telling me how boring and routine 99% of his cases are. Do you really think millions of people would tune in every week to watch mundane and routine cases like that? Oh, but they’d be ACCURATE, so who cares about entertainment, right? Um, yeah. (And while we’re on the subject of inaccuracies, the premise of House *itself* is inaccurate — do you really think a guy as acerbic and allergic to authority and simple concepts like, oh, following rules as Greg House would actually be able to keep a job anywhere?)
The same goes for criminal procedurals. I only wish trials were as entertaining and intriguing as shows like Justice, the Law and Orders, etc. make them seem. (So do the judges, I’m sure.) But hey. If it’s accuracy you’re more enamored with, go watch Court TV or pop into your local court room. But be sure to bring a box of Kleenex to clean up the drool that the utter boredom is sure to induce.
But who the hell cares? It’s…wait, what is it again? Oh, yeah — entertainment! Being entertained requires — no, demands — that you suspend disbelief. Just leave it right there at the door. Otherwise why bother?
If I didn’t suspend disbelief, I’d have to face the following cold, hard facts: Guys as adorable and perfect as Jim Halpert don’t exist. CIA operatives only wished they looked like Sydney Bristow — and had all those cool (fake) gadgets Marshall invented, too. There’s no such thing as vampire slayers. (No, really.) I will never have the same relationship with my mother that Rory has with Lorelai. Kate and Jack really aren’t stranded on an island somewhere, and so it doesn’t matter who The Others are or what they want. (And one other thing: prostitutes don’t really look like Julia Roberts, and they don’t really get rescued by guys like Richard Gere. Just in case you were wondering.)
So yeah. Do me — and everyone around you — a favor: quit whining already.
