Dear MotherZucker...

Dear MotherZucker,

We are recent college grads, but we could run your network better than Silverman. Why, you ask? Well, first, we are 22 years old and, therefore, have that whole "binge drinking" thing out of our systems. (Or we save it for appropriate times, like one odd Saturday night a month.) We also have never been big fans of white tigers outside of the zoo. (Or even in the zoo.) We may not have any real scheduling experience, but hey, neither did this douche when you hired him.

But why should you hire us? Because NBC can't really (really, really) get any worse, so why not put it in the hands of two post-grad TV junkies? We anxiously await your call, Jeffy.

Hugs and puppies,
O and Brady

P.S. "SyFy"? Seriously? Way to make your network sound like VD.

There Are No Words

SILVERMAAAAAAAAAAN!



(That voice has got to be rough on Silvertooth's ears.)

Oh, and there's even more:



God, I love that man. And by "love" I mean "am disturbingly fascinated by."

On Egregious Advertorials

So, you think Ben Silverman will give this Adam Stotsky guy his own set of chimes? Maybe one of Silvertooth's cubs?

(Seriously, though. "Today's consumer is sophisticated enough to pick up on these things"? What consumers have you been talking to? Because the last time I checked, there were a whole lot of stupid people running around in this world. People are, by and large, dumb. Take a look at the ratings for Two and a Half Men and compare them to those for 30 Rock, then talk about how "sophisticated" consumers are today.)

The Adventures of (Not) Ben Silverman

[Note: What follows is an entirely fictional account of Ben Silverman's day-to-day life, the thought process behind his decisions, etc. There's no harm meant by it; my excellent friend Braids and I simply thought it would be hilarious to blame everything bad in the world (and NBC) on him, even though in real life, this probably isn't the case. So, again: Light mocking along the lines of the Girls' Bike Club over at Tomato Nation.]

Int. 30 Rockefeller Plaza, 13th Floor. (Not)Ben Silverman, male, mid-30s caucasian, enters, flanked by his two white tigers, Silvertooth and Moonbeam.

NBS: Dave? Davey? Bro, where you at?

He plays the official NBC chimes hanging from his belt. Dave Howe, President of Sci-Fi, runs out of an office.

Dave Howe: Ben! What are you doing way down here?
NBS: Oh, just chillin' through. Wanted to see how you're dealing with the name change.
Dave Howe: Name change?
NBS: Shit, we didn't tell you?
Dave Howe: Tell me what?
NBS: Well, Davey, Zucks and I got the best fucking idea last night, bra. You know how we can't put that little ^TM thing after Sci-Fi?
Dave Howe: Sure.
NBS: Yeah man, we can't have that wack shit. So from now on you're "SyFy^TM." Zucks even said I should change my name to "Sylverman." Tight, yeah?
Dave Howe: Is that...really going to boost our ratings?
NBS: Are you questioning me, Davey?
Silvertooth growls.
NBS: Silvertooth thinks you're questioning me, Davey.
Dave Howe: Oh, no.
NBS: Because I greenlit The Office, you know. And Parks and Recreation.
Dave Howe: I heard the focus group numbers were pretty ba--
NBS: You heard shit, man. Everyone knows that shit is bogus.
Dave Howe: Why do we bother, then?
NBS: Man, I don't know. Fuck this noise, I got some ladies waiting for me up on Fiddy. Sylverman OUT.

He mounts Moonbeam and, playing his official NBC chimes, bounds away.