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The Journal of Literary Satire | Hastily Written & Slopilly Edited
Thursday, July 29, 2004
I Love VH1

I Hate I Love the 90s

Riding the popular coattails of VH1’s other I Love the— shows, there’s a new decade in town: I Love the 90s. Personally, I do love the 90s but it’s too soon to be doing a show about it, don’t you think? The Clinton/Lewinski fiasco? Yeah, I remember that—and I’m fucking sick of hearing about it. Austin Powers? Maybe when Mike Myers falls into obscurity we can reminisce about it, but not now. Christ, I just participated in the drinking game for it a few nights ago.

Whereas many of the mature and witty commentators had a lot to say about the 70s (“I remember everyone was smoking grass”) and the 80s (“I mean, who wasn’t snorting coke?”), they really aren’t the authorities on the 90s. Instead, they’ve had to call in such decade experts as J.C. Chasez and that brunette girl from The O.C. to talk about such novelties as slap bracelets. Did you see Michael Ian Black when they handed him one? He didn’t know what the fuck it was.

In the end, I Love the 90s sucked because they’d show you everything that was going to be on during the intro. “Think you’re a 90s fan? This was the year of Sex and the City, The Big Lebowski, Something about Mary, Armageddon, Backstreet Boys and Teletubbies. I love 1998!” Okay, thanks, now I don’t need to see this episode because you gave everything away!

Now that VH1 has covered all the decades that pertain to their viewing audience’s age group (but I wouldn’t entirely be surprised by an I Love the 50s special), what’s next? I need to watch more sardonic people making fun of pop culture. Now there’s a weekly show called Best Week Ever. In case you’re mildly retarded and/or haven’t the ability to remember something that happened three days ago, people slightly more famous than you talk about things like U2’s most recent album being stolen and Madonna changing her name to Esther. Like we give a shit. And I don’t understand how every week can be the Best Week Ever.

Amy Stender lives in the woods, feeding off indigenous roots and berries. Last winter, she got wicked crazy-hungry and took down a 4-point buck with nothing more than dental floss and a pen knife. She runs around in a T-shirt emblazoned “ILOVERMONT” and likes to yell “Funkified!” at strangers. Her favorite reading selections are usually penned by Neil Gaiman, Charles Bukowski, and Hubert Selby Jr. The first graphic novels she read were Nausicaa of the Valley of Wind (Volumes 1-4) by Hayao Miyazaki and she hasn’t stopped since. She wants Henry Rollins to know she thinks he’s a hot animal machine and she wishes he would return her phone calls. You can read her work at McSwys and on her blog, Fluid Motion.