Entourage

Perhaps not appropriate for this morning, but nonetheless:

“Entourage” represents so vast an improvement over HBO’s “Sex and the City” that it makes that show seem, in retrospect, like nothing more than a one-note celebration of pluckiness, devised for a tweener reading level. By contrast, “Entourage” does not patronize its characters or its audience: it is a multilayered, adult and thoroughly funny show about various male fantasies of teamwork and individualism.

Yes. Recognition of the fantastic element is critical. Unlike the awful Sex and the City, Entourage never takes itself seriously.

At some point, Dave needs to write his post on why it’s a terrible thing that smart people like Sex and the City. . .

UPDATE: I should say that the above comments don’t really have anything to do with Entourage, which this season has moved from “Watchable” to “Good”, but which will never approach greatness. Rather, they are directed against Sex and the City, which repeated viewings have confirmed falls somewhere between “A tragically unwatchable waste of my not-very-valuable time,” and “I’d rather eat a bullet than watch an additional three minutes.”