A crappy television show.
Okay. Here it goes. After two weeks of “really, this?” reaction to Ho Gate, I feel like I should weigh in on the matter. There was, after all, a prominent TV angle to this whole thing (one could argue that it was the TV audience that started the commotion in the first place, not the radio audience). Now that the man has been fired from the radio as well as dropped from his MSNBC simulcast I think it’s safe to say the following: regardless of your thoughts on Mr. Imus’ statement, everyone should agree that the MSNBC might have been the worst television program ever.
Oh sure, there might be worse offenders when it came to content or production value or general lack of inspiration, but no one on God’s green earth can successfully argue that watching radio makes for good television.
Back when I was in college, or when I used to work the overnights and I found myself wide awake at 6:00am on a weekday, I’d sometimes flip across MSNBC and catch bits of the Imus show. I remember distinctly the first time I saw the show. I was shocked. Shocked not at the content but that someone actually sold a major cable network on the idea of simply airing a radio show. “Radio” is key in that statement, because radio, as you might have deduced lacks a certain… um… VISUAL element. Seriously the show was litterally two cameras trained in on some Skeletor-looking cowboy man and his mustachioed Tonto. That’s it. That’s the show.
Since then (and since moving to New York) I’ve also found that the YES network (the television home to the New York Yankees) broadcasts the Mike and Mad Dog program during the afternoon (which also originates from WFAN). Same set-up as Imus: two cameras, no frills, RADIO.
This nonsense had to end. It’d be like VH1 Classic starting a radio station claiming that “it will play all of your favorite classic rock music videos.” It doesn’t make any damn sense.
Sure, Stern pulled it off on E! for what seemed like generations. The difference is that Stern’s show had something to look at (primarily pixelated breasts).
In short, good riddance to Mr. Imus, don’t let the door hit you on your way out (actually DO! At least that would be something to look at!).
