Okay kids, it’s time for the hate stew that I promised you on Friday. Consider it your Sunday supper.

“Dancing with the Stars.” Where, oh where, do I begin? I have deliberately avoided this show for however long it’s been on up to now, but masochism and work obligations got the better of me, and my hand was forced. I finally had to check it out Tuesday night.

The entire production seems like a poorly written sketch parodying reality shows. And, considering how well it does in the ratings, compared to other really worthwhile shows that fail dismally, I can now say that I have lost all faith in mankind.

To call these washed up F-listers “stars” is a flat out lie. Take Kim Kardashian, one of the competitors this season. Her most noteworthy credits include making a sex tape, dating Reggie Bush and having an ass that is often mistaken for a dumptruck.

Yes, with Kard-ass-ian, Susan Lucci and Jefferson from “Married with Children,” being on the show, I can only imagine the list of superstars they must have rejected during casting. Perhaps next season they’ll have Corky from “Life Goes On” competing. Maybe I’m being a bit harsh, calling Kim a has-been. Kim Kardashian is actually a never-was, if you want to get technical.

When Tom Bergeron unleashed his manic, lilting, joyless “host” laugh in response to something that was entirely unfunny for the second time inside of 40 seconds, I turned to a friend who was watching with me and asked, “Do you suppose he goes home and just cries and cries? Don’t you think he must really hate himself?” My friend thought for a moment, then answered “yes.”

So, yeah, you could say DWTS was not my cup of tea. Man, I really feel like watching some “Married with Children” now.

“Dancing with the Stars” started this week, and I watched it for the first time. I would never watch such a show in my real life, but I figure I ought to expose myself to new and terrible things. Hey, it’s in the interest of finding television blog fodder. Nevertheless, rather than unleash my tirade over everything wrong with that show today, I’d rather keep spirits high. It is a Friday, after all. So, I’ll save it for another day, allow the hate stew to simmer, and tell you about something I do like: Carnivàle.

I remember this show when it first began airing on HBO back in 2003, but it looked weird. Too weird. So, I never bothered trying to get into it; plus, the only person I knew who did watch it was an imbecile. Years later, a non-imbecile friend swore up and down that it was his favorite show, and I began to reconsider it.

Long story less long, I put the first disc of Season 1 at the top of my Netflix queue, and wound up watching the entire series within a two week span, slowed down only by the sluggish pace of the United States Postal Service.

It even got to the point where I would bring some of the discs to work to watch at my computer. Granted, I was trying to get fired, but that’s neither here nor there. The moral of the story is, Carnivàle is indeed weird, but it’s a good weird, not “John from Cinncinnati” weird.

The show only lasted two seasons because it was too expensive to produce, considering it wasn’t getting “Sopranos” ratings. But, it is certainly one of the most unique shows I’ve seen, above all, and I watch loads of television. Even if you don’t love it as much as, say “The Wire” (and who could?), it’s worth a look. So, check it out. Go. Go do it now.

DVD shopping links:
Carnivale - The Complete First Season
Carnivale - The Complete Second Season

This is the stuff that gives television a bad wrap…

Seen at Last Night a DJ Saved My Life.