Without-Feathers.com

A guilty conscience needs no accuser.

– Anonymous

Television: Guilty Pleasures

In my copy of TV Guide, the shows I want to watch—the good shows—are highlighted with yellow marker. But if you hold the guide up to a lamp, you’ll be able to read my invisible-ink highlights—those are the shows that I secretly crave. I might be watching Masterpiece Theatre, but I’m quietly taping Crossing Jordan on the other TV...

Cleopatra 2525

The great thing about this show is that it never tried to be more than it really was. It was just three hot girls in skimpy outfits, tossing off one-liners and doing things that made their boobs jiggle. And Gina Torres doing some Matrix-like slo-mo wallbouncing. Nice way to waste a half-hour, really. (And if you actually try to follow the plot, you’ll find a remarkable amount of similarities between this show and the Matrix trilogy...)

Doctor Who (old series)

There are two reasons this goes under “Guilty Pleasures” rather than “All-Time Favorites”: 1) the production values are so cheap, you can play spot-the-stagehand in almost every episode, and 2) I swore I would never officially like this series, since I still hold a grudge from being forced to watch this as a not-into-sci-fi kid (my dad was a huge fan). Production and father issues aside, the plotlines are entertaining, the characters are endearing, the actors are generally above-average picks, and the scripts are of the usual British quality (very good). There’s a reason it ran for thirty years, you know.

Friends

If you tell anyone I watch this, I will come and cut you. As is my habit, I didn’t get into this show until it had ended, so I catch the reruns on late-night TV. And I have to say, it’s pretty funny sometimes. Other times, of course, it forgets it’s a sitcom and delves into Ross/Rachel melodrama. But Phoebe alone makes it worth the angst.

Hawaii Five-O

Like all good cheese, this show just gets better with age. The theme song! The outfits! Jack Lord and his Hairstyle of Doom! Plus, there’s the acting—when the stars themselves aren’t mouthing the latest mod phrases with all the hipness of a tuba, the supporting players are killing us softly with their awful line-readings. The early years are good in that the stars are young and snoggable; later on, Lord apparently stops bothering to take off his make-up after each show and just slathers on a new layer every day, and his hair rises to truly awe-inspiring heights. (Special nod to Danno—he can book me any day.)

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