The Genius of Judge Judy
Not sure if I’m ready for another triple digit day on the heat index. Tried to play soccer yesterday. My jersey was soaked to the fiber, felt like someone tossed an uncooked pizza on my back. Had to peel the gnats from my eyes. A truly disgusting experience.
If you’re one of my elderly readers, I suggest you stay indoors, orange julius in hand, Matlock on TV. Or may I suggest Judge Judy?
If I were unemployed and ambitionless, I think I’d devour Judge Judy reruns by the episode. I’m completely transfixed by that show. It has the same train wreck appeal as “Cops” but with air conditioning.
The producers (I'll refer to them as geniuses) manufactured the perfect storm. High school dropouts versus sassy master debater with law degree. The premise: shred the idiots, humiliate them as much as possible in 23 minutes of air time.
Judge Judy argues like a Jedi knight. Swifly pointing out fractured logic, faulty reasoning, and distorted ideals, and in the process, pummeling egos. The geniuses found a gem in Judge Judy.
Even the name is perfect. The irony of it. Judy is your next door neighbor, the lady you ask to water your plants when you’re away. Judy picks up your kids from soccer practice.
Judy rips you a new a-hole.
Oh, you may think the whole thing is mean. You may think that nobody deserves a good bitch slap—even the ones that have volunteered for their vivisection.
Yet another beautifully played card by the geniuses. Who wants to watch something “correct?” We have established layers of drama. The defendant and the plantiff are conflicted, and now you’re conflicted for watching said conflict.
Even the baliff—the courtroom’s version of a cigar store indian—gets into the action. The geniuses strike again. It's the baliff's job to introduce the plantiff and defendant. He does this before Judge Judy storms in. (Have you noticed she always rushes in, like she's sprinted in from the parking lot?)
One defendant’s last name was “Batman.” Seriously. The baliff introduced her by whispering her last name in the same melodramatic tone the superhero used to announce himself to a confused villian.
Nobody saw the humor in it, except for Judge Judy and a few audience members with their GED.
Stay cool.
G
If you’re one of my elderly readers, I suggest you stay indoors, orange julius in hand, Matlock on TV. Or may I suggest Judge Judy?
If I were unemployed and ambitionless, I think I’d devour Judge Judy reruns by the episode. I’m completely transfixed by that show. It has the same train wreck appeal as “Cops” but with air conditioning.
The producers (I'll refer to them as geniuses) manufactured the perfect storm. High school dropouts versus sassy master debater with law degree. The premise: shred the idiots, humiliate them as much as possible in 23 minutes of air time.
Judge Judy argues like a Jedi knight. Swifly pointing out fractured logic, faulty reasoning, and distorted ideals, and in the process, pummeling egos. The geniuses found a gem in Judge Judy.
Even the name is perfect. The irony of it. Judy is your next door neighbor, the lady you ask to water your plants when you’re away. Judy picks up your kids from soccer practice.
Judy rips you a new a-hole.
Oh, you may think the whole thing is mean. You may think that nobody deserves a good bitch slap—even the ones that have volunteered for their vivisection.
Yet another beautifully played card by the geniuses. Who wants to watch something “correct?” We have established layers of drama. The defendant and the plantiff are conflicted, and now you’re conflicted for watching said conflict.
Even the baliff—the courtroom’s version of a cigar store indian—gets into the action. The geniuses strike again. It's the baliff's job to introduce the plantiff and defendant. He does this before Judge Judy storms in. (Have you noticed she always rushes in, like she's sprinted in from the parking lot?)
One defendant’s last name was “Batman.” Seriously. The baliff introduced her by whispering her last name in the same melodramatic tone the superhero used to announce himself to a confused villian.
Nobody saw the humor in it, except for Judge Judy and a few audience members with their GED.
Stay cool.
G
posted by Greg Monaco at 9:02 AM
1 Comments:
Judge Judy is addictive. So is COPS.
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