My irritation, directed primarily at the Sci-Fi (UFO and Bigfoot) and 'History' (UFO-Nostradamus-Hitler) channels, for the unseemly delight with which they flood the airwaves with enormous blocks of eschatological programming on a daily basis. Without even trying, within the last 96 hours I have been subjected to three separate, remarkably elaborate, simulations of the end of the world following an asteroid impact in the Pacific. And I mean astoundingly elaborate. Clearly, someone in whatever underground dungeon they plan their programming has a serious boner for watching the Golden Gate bridge come crashing down - the budget allocation for simulating this particular apocalyptic nugget would keep Marie Antoinette in dresses and Imelda Marcos in shoes for centuries.
It's bad enough that their idea of interesting programming is to count down the 10 most fun ways that the world might come to an end. But the ill-concealed slavering delight at the prospect of Armageddon-by-the-Bay is in remarkably poor taste.
Favorited.
But you know, once you pay for the CGI time to animate elaborate renditions of Ragnarok*, you pretty much have to get some use out of them.
*(Why should Armageddon get all the attention?)
My irritation, directed primarily at the Sci-Fi (UFO and Bigfoot) and 'History' (UFO-Nostradamus-Hitler) channels, for the unseemly delight with which they flood the airwaves with enormous blocks of eschatological programming on a daily basis. Without even trying, within the last 96 hours I have been subjected to three separate, remarkably elaborate, simulations of the end of the world following an asteroid impact in the Pacific. And I mean astoundingly elaborate. Clearly, someone in whatever underground dungeon they plan their programming has a serious boner for watching the Golden Gate bridge come crashing down - the budget allocation for simulating this particular apocalyptic nugget would keep Marie Antoinette in dresses and Imelda Marcos in shoes for centuries.
It's bad enough that their idea of interesting programming is to count down the 10 most fun ways that the world might come to an end. But the ill-concealed slavering delight at the prospect of Armageddon-by-the-Bay is in remarkably poor taste.