They showed all the new season of Six Feet Under, three back to back episodes. It was as satisfying as a big chunk of nougat, threatening to remove your fillings. I love the show, but the thing I love about it most of all is the character I hate.
I hate Art Guy. I can’t remember his name. He is Claire’s sexually confused ex-boyfriend who was seduced by the other character I hate, Art Teacher. I used to hate Lisa, but then she died, and I felt bad about hating her, so I focus it all on Art Guy.
I know so many people like that. They have lofts in downtown Los Angeles and friends who talk about flash mobs. They put psilocybin in your drink without telling you and make compost without a kitchen or even land. Why would you insist on being organic if you take so many drugs? I really hate people like that.
It is fun. I think that the writing on the show supports my hatred, it gives it voice and altitude. I get a sense of game, like I played emotional charades. I come away hating Art Guy and I feel good about myself, which is what entertainment is all about.
I know Claire hates him. Claire I love, even to the point of telling her one time I would be happy to write her a letter of recommendation in order to facilitate her acceptance into art school. Lauren Ambrose, the actress who plays Claire, said, “Margaret, it’s a TV show. It’s not real.” I don’t care. And that was such a Claire way to answer my offer, reiterating the reality happening on SFU, what my friends and I call it.
I actually think it is far more real than any reality show. Reality shows are about heightened hyper-awareness of life, which is what makes them more than make believe, and mostly unwatchable. But Art Guy is so aggressively unwatchable, that every appearance is hotly anticipated. Every second with him is aggravating, and there is never enough. He encapsulates what is compelling about SFU. It isn’t about death, really, even though it is set in a funeral home. It is about love and the way that love dies, yet we get to keep living, and how we start to hate who we once loved. It is about how, when love dies, it isn’t as sad as it is annoying because we have to live in the same world and how horrible that is. What is more true to life than that?