Last night, while watching a TiVoed episode of “The Colony,” I realized I have absolutely no survival skills. “The Colony” is a reality television show about how a prescreened panel of overachievers copes with the end of the world by drinking water from the oil slick known as the Los Angeles River. You may not have known Los Angeles had a river, but it does: it’s that empty cement gulley featured in many an apocalyptic media event. In other news, the colonists also made beds out of shipping pallets, showered using only rain water, and performed other beauty-destroying actions. It’s no wonder I would not do well at the end of the world because I’m used to organic cotton sheets, although I think my naturally youthful skin might hold up a little better than the average face if some of those lizards are any indication.
After “The Colony,” Rob and I watched “Paranormal State,” which is becoming less and less describable. It used to be about how that funny-looking guy and his friends investigated reports of haunted houses, but now it’s I don’t know what all. Last night, the team helped a hillbilly family fight off a demon, a werewolf, and a ghostly drag queen in a battle complicated by several conflicting pacts with Satan. It’s nice to know that people in rural America have not lost touch with the can-do spirit that made this country great.