The FKS Guide to Watching TV on Mute
When I’m watching TV, Mrs. Drew will often ask me to keep the volume down. Way down. Apparently, noise is a huge distraction when you’re studying the latest issue of Lucky magazine. Whatever. She’ll also ask me to mute the TV when someone is being shot or killed, which defeats the purpose of watching television in the first place. I don’t watch TV to see people hold hands and skip over rainbows. I watch TV because I want to see people die. Violently. And I like to watch those deaths at jet-engine volume levels. And if hi-def, if at all possible. Death is awesomer that way.
No such luck for me these days. Having grown tired of watching TV at Mrs. Drew-approved volume levels (usually at about 1/6 of the way up the volume bar, which is horrible. You miss bits of dialogue. Explosions have all the impact of a mild fart. People don’t get shot loud enough. I need that volume bar all the way up, and even then, I still try and make the TV go louder), I now watch a lot of TV on mute. This is not as hard as you might think. While some shows are ruined by the mute button, others are actually enhanced. Here’s a rundown for your future reference:
NFL Football – Verdict: ENHANCED. Here are some of the commentators you can expect to find while watching any NFL game on TV: John Madden, Joe Theismann, Paul Maguire, Bill Maas, and Dan Dierdorf. That’s a combined IQ of about four right there. You’d learn more about football from watching Access Hollywood. I miss the crowd noise sometimes, but I’m usually too drunk to care.
Golf – Verdict: ENHANCED. The perfect sport to watch on mute. The commentators never talk. And when they do, it’s usually something I don’t understand anyway. Shit like, “He’s going light with the wedge and hoping to fly it over, Jim.” Combined with the hushed tones, it sounds like they’re devising a war plan. Lighten up, guys. You’re at a fucking country club. You should be drunk when you’re covering this, just like Pat Summerall used to be.
The Sopranos – Verdict: RUINED. I have collectively bargained with Mrs. Drew one hour a week to watch the Sopranos, with the volume on and her and the Girl upstairs. It’s the shrewdest deal I’ve ever made. Checkmate, Mrs. Drew!
Friends – Verdict: ENHANCED. I’m toying with watching this more, especially when the ’95 version of Jennifer Aniston (20 lbs. heavier and all woman) is on. The only problem is this: when the show is on mute, I can still tell that the characters are saying something annoying. And I can still tell that Matthew Perry is gay.
Deal or No Deal – Verdict: ENHANCED. Another perfect show to watch on mute. You get all the comedy of contestants blowing their chance at thousands of dollars, with none of residual damage that comes from having to listen to them speak. Bonus points if the contestant is a fat black woman. Fat black women always look like they want to eat the host.
Weather Channel – Verdict: WAY ENHANCED. You ever hear the music they play on the Weather Channel? Holy fuck, when did John Tesh and Zamfir mate and spawn offspring? That shit ain’t right. They should play Jimmy Cliff if the weather is going to be good, and they should play Slayer if the weather is going to make me want to slash my wrists. It just makes sense that way.
American Idol – Verdict: ENHANCED. I like watching the contestants cry. Hearing them cover old Barry Manilow songs? Shoot me in the balls.
No such luck for me these days. Having grown tired of watching TV at Mrs. Drew-approved volume levels (usually at about 1/6 of the way up the volume bar, which is horrible. You miss bits of dialogue. Explosions have all the impact of a mild fart. People don’t get shot loud enough. I need that volume bar all the way up, and even then, I still try and make the TV go louder), I now watch a lot of TV on mute. This is not as hard as you might think. While some shows are ruined by the mute button, others are actually enhanced. Here’s a rundown for your future reference:
NFL Football – Verdict: ENHANCED. Here are some of the commentators you can expect to find while watching any NFL game on TV: John Madden, Joe Theismann, Paul Maguire, Bill Maas, and Dan Dierdorf. That’s a combined IQ of about four right there. You’d learn more about football from watching Access Hollywood. I miss the crowd noise sometimes, but I’m usually too drunk to care.
Golf – Verdict: ENHANCED. The perfect sport to watch on mute. The commentators never talk. And when they do, it’s usually something I don’t understand anyway. Shit like, “He’s going light with the wedge and hoping to fly it over, Jim.” Combined with the hushed tones, it sounds like they’re devising a war plan. Lighten up, guys. You’re at a fucking country club. You should be drunk when you’re covering this, just like Pat Summerall used to be.
The Sopranos – Verdict: RUINED. I have collectively bargained with Mrs. Drew one hour a week to watch the Sopranos, with the volume on and her and the Girl upstairs. It’s the shrewdest deal I’ve ever made. Checkmate, Mrs. Drew!
Friends – Verdict: ENHANCED. I’m toying with watching this more, especially when the ’95 version of Jennifer Aniston (20 lbs. heavier and all woman) is on. The only problem is this: when the show is on mute, I can still tell that the characters are saying something annoying. And I can still tell that Matthew Perry is gay.
Deal or No Deal – Verdict: ENHANCED. Another perfect show to watch on mute. You get all the comedy of contestants blowing their chance at thousands of dollars, with none of residual damage that comes from having to listen to them speak. Bonus points if the contestant is a fat black woman. Fat black women always look like they want to eat the host.
Weather Channel – Verdict: WAY ENHANCED. You ever hear the music they play on the Weather Channel? Holy fuck, when did John Tesh and Zamfir mate and spawn offspring? That shit ain’t right. They should play Jimmy Cliff if the weather is going to be good, and they should play Slayer if the weather is going to make me want to slash my wrists. It just makes sense that way.
American Idol – Verdict: ENHANCED. I like watching the contestants cry. Hearing them cover old Barry Manilow songs? Shoot me in the balls.
posted by Big Daddy Drew at 3:04 PM
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