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28 April 2011

friday night lights

I have a confession to make... I cannot stop with the Friday Night Lights. Which is weird because I don't give a rip about football. Originally, based on the book Friday Night Lights: A Town, a Team, and a Dream, a 1990 nonfiction book by H. G. Bissinger that I haven't read yet (but it's on my list), the show is amazingly good. 
In it's 5th and final season right now, in the real TV world, of which I rarely participate. So, thank you Netflix for your watch instantly, late-at-night-while-one-is-sewing program. 
Here is an entertaining bit from a NY Times article back when the show started:
Lord, is “Friday Night Lights” good. In fact, if the season is anything like the pilot, this new drama about high school football could be great — and not just television great, but great in the way of a poem or painting, great in the way of art with a single obsessive creator who doesn’t have to consult with a committee and has months or years to go back and agonize over line breaks and the color red; it could belong in a league with art that doesn’t have to pause for commercials, or casually recap the post-commercial action, or sell viewers on the plot and characters in the first five minutes, or hew to a line-item budget, or answer to unions and studios, or avoid four-letter words and nudity.

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