I’m a flawed character from a critically acclaimed television show. Ever since the world’s TV critics gathered together at a secret conference and unanimously decided that likable characters are lame now, the network has been sending down notes to my writers, asking them to make me more morally ambivalent. If you were wondering why I cheated on my loving and supportive spouse for no apparent reason, that’s why I did it.
I’m a flawed character from a critically acclaimed television show. Ever since it was universally accepted that TV shows can’t be considered “art” unless they can effectively demonstrate that the concepts of “good” and “bad” are a simplistic dichotomy, I’ve shown an almost laughable lack of regard for the consequences of my actions. Often times, I’ll say intentionally hurtful things to my friends and family members, completely without provocation. The rare time I offer an apology, it’s clear that I don’t mean it, and am only doing so out of self-interest. If you were wondering why anyone in my inner circle sticks by me in the face of this horrible treatment, my writers say it’s because “real people have layers,” whatever that means.
I’m a flawed character from a critically acclaimed television show. Ever since anti-heroes were deemed to be the only compelling protagonists, I’ve made it increasingly difficult for anyone to root for me to succeed in my endeavors. In addition to engaging in abjectly immoral behavior, I’m also just a generally unpleasant person to interact with. My conversations with others are riddled by self-absorption, and often times, I’ll spontaneously erupt into long, insufferable monologues that make even the most vapid Bachelor contestants seem self-aware. If you were wondering why you should continue to watch this show when my behavior makes you so physically uncomfortable, my writers say it’s because “the real world is plagued by ambiguity and you definitely want to see that.”
I’m a flawed character from a critically acclaimed television show. Ever since it was decided that the minimum requirement for good television isn’t to entertain, but to offer a poignant representation of the human condition, I’ve found myself overcome by sadness and loneliness. Ideally, I’m sure you’d like to see me combat these problems by seeking help in some form, but my emotional maladjustment causes me to engage exclusively in self-destructive behavior. I take zero strides to achieve goals I won’t stop talking about, squander opportunities I’m illogically still awarded, and push away anyone who tries to help me with the force of someone who is frustrated with a jigsaw puzzle and starts to forcefully jam pieces into vacancies where they clearly don’t fit. If you were wondering why you shouldn’t just abandon me in favor of any number of other amazing television shows, my writers say it’s because “intellectual audiences want their TV to offer a subtle depiction of the paradox created by the pursuit of happiness,” or some bullshit like that.