Dear Saturday Night Live:
I would have written this letter to you on Monday, but I didn’t want to sully the national holiday with my rage. And I have rage, Saturday Night Live — oh yes, I have rage.
About this time last week, I posted a little walk-up to your 2007 season, making sure to note the creative resurgence you experienced last fall. It was true! “D–k in a Box” aside, there were plenty of stand-out moments and talented guest stars: Hugh Laurie! My Chemical Romance! The always-genius Alec Baldwin! So how excited was I last Saturday night to switch over to your fine program after I watched the *#@&%! Colts continue their boring run of playoff wins? SO EXCITED!! And when Jake Gyllenhaal kicked into his career-making rendition of “And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going,” why, I damn near clapped my hands together with glee. You were back, Saturday Night Live, and your momentum had not flagged!
Until. Until we arrived at a sketch that your NBC website is referring to as “Trump Rips Rosie.” (Scroll down this page to watch.) In this sketch, basically a chance for Darrell Hammond to show off his creepy-good Donald Trump impersonation, you used your many talented cast members as “reporters” to interview GoldenHair at a fake press conference. It’s a tried and true set-up, and provided plenty of comedy in the early moments. I especially enjoyed your use of the word “sasquatch.”
BUT THEN. THEN, Saturday Night Live, Amy Poehler (pictured) stood up. And acted like a ditz. And identified herself as an “Entertainment Weekly reporter.” Named Debbie. Debbie Cuntsler.
Um… WTF, Saturday Night Live?? How am I not supposed to take that personally?? As EW’s designated Apprentice correspondent, how am I not suppose to view that as a direct assault upon all that I am?? What have I ever done to you, Saturday Night Live??I have given you the best years of my life!! I TiVo you faithfully!! Iuse your classic lines in conversation, I refer you to my friends, I’meven nice to your publicist!! And now this?!?
Sigh. I have to rethink this, Saturday Night Live, our wholerelationship. If I were Stephen Colbert, you would be on notice. If Iwere the Hulk, I would be angry, and I would smash. But since I’m justme, Whitney Pastorek, all I can do now is cry a silent tear, and ask myarmy of PopWatchers to support me in a boycott of your televisionprogram until I get an apology.
(Of course, we will all have to watch your program to see if youapologize, and, you know, I don’t want to miss AFI this weekend… butI’m boycotting IN HERE. [points to heart])
Where’s the love,
PS: Yes, I know, I didn’t see the Patriots on Saturday. My rage has blinded me to the truth. Sorry. Have revised the above to gripe about the Colts instead.
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