So MTV decided to dedicate an entire section of its website to, whoa, music videos. Though not quite the exhaustive archive I’d like, and though it lists all “the” bands under “t,” what’s truly important is that I can now embed high-quality versions of music videos like this:

You’re welcome.

YOU GUYS, THIS IS AWESOME.

Barack Obama is going to be on The Daily Show tomorrow.

And my roommate points out that tomorrow is also when Friday Night Lights airs, so within two and a half hours we get Coach, Tim Riggins, Barack Obama, and Jon Stewart.

All I’m saying is I’m going to need a cigarette.

ETA: Barack will be appearing via satellite. Which makes sense, because New York is the farthest thing from a swing state (a monkey bars state?), but I’m a little disappointed. I guess I’ll have to drown my sorrows in Matt Saracen’s sad, adorable eyes.

I’m serious. Not even one dressed as the love child of Popeye and Liberace. Especially one dressed as the love child of Popeye and Liberace. Someone needs to tell Chuck Bass that playing hard to get is Dawson’s bag and that he and Blair are BORING when they are not clawing and rasping and hurling insults and/or sucking face.

And now to the A story: For the first time in recorded history, Nate Archibald figured something out first! Well, figured it out before the only person on this show who’s a dimmer bulb than he is: petulant skeeze-magnet Jenny Humphrey. Has any person ever deserved the good things that happen to her less? I’m thinking she’s a close second to Nicole Richie. Maybe.

Buy some matches, guv'nor?

All right. Perhaps the only person on this show I still have any respect for is Eleanor Waldorf. (And that’s only because she was in Independence Day.) Dan and Serena had the same conversation for the forty-third time (“I want to be friends!” “Well, I want to judge you!” “We can do both!” “You’re a whore.” “You’re from Brooklyn.” “I hate you!” “I hate you more!”), Vanessa pouted about last week’s abortive seduce-and-destroy storyline, and that horrible girl from The O.C. showed up.

It’s like the writers reached for their American Apparel hoodies, kicked their Chuck Taylors up on the table, took a big sip of crazy juice and thought, “What could we to do make Sara’s head explode? Yes! I’ve got it! Find someone who’s a bigger asshole than Little J!” That person would be Willa Holland, who showed up in the totally unwatchable fourth season of The OCk as monotone, unmourned Marissa Cooper’s previously missing little sister, Kaitlin. (I hate that I know her stupid name without having to look it up.) Here she was playing some sort of sullen model named Agnes who attempted to lead stupid, stupid Jenny down the Dov Charney–makes–amateur–porn primrose path. Luckily, since it would have been actual child porn if Taylor Momsen took off any more clothes, Sir Nate of Manbangs showed up to protect her slack-jawed, kohl-addled virtue. And then they made out, their two collective brain cells bouncing hormonally around their pretty little heads.

Next week: Jenny wears a shmatte and does her hair like Kenley. But Lily and Rufus join forces! I hope Lincoln Hawk makes an appearance and then goes on tour with Blur.

Attention fangirls and fanfellows: Don’t forget to enter our Gossip Girl giveaway! Deadline is Friday.

House and My Name Is Earl keep piling up on my DVR, but I haven’t felt the urgent need to watch them recently. I think that’s because, for the past couple of seasons, these two series in particular were starting to veer away from their formulas and play around a little more, and now it seems as if both shows threw their hands up and said: “Too far! We might be alienating loyal fans! Retreat! Retreat!”

Well, I liked the experimenting. House was especially strange, since it somehow managed to incorporate some reality-show elements into its fictional universe. The fourth season began with House sans a diagnostic team. He rounded up 40 potentials to fill the three open spaces. That was fun and exciting. There were a lot of new characters for House to play around with. The disposable ones were good for a joke and then they were out, the favorites got to stick around a little longer and maybe get a meaty storyline thrown their way. Mostly, choosing a new team gave House something to do besides diagnose the patients, harass Wilson, and learn things about himself.

The changes to My Name is Earl started off a little bit subtler. For a while, the show had a slightly dark tint cast over it. Earl was often put in situations where doing something to cross one person off his list would wind up hurting someone else. This was my favorite era of the show. Earl had to decide how to be a better person in situations that weren’t so clear-cut. Then things got really crazy: He went to prison to save Joy from a harsh three-strikes sentence, he worked his list in prison, he broke out and decided that the nice guy doesn’t finish first, disavowed the list, got hit by a car, and spent half a season in a coma dreaming that he was in a classic TV sitcom. Yeah, crazy. But I kind of liked it because, even with the whole coma-fantasy plot, Earl was really struggling with whether or not his list project was worthwhile. It just went a little deeper.

Now? House has a new diagnostic team. They diagnose patients. Often, those patients teach them something about themselves. Wilson was gone for a while—oh no!—but he came back.

And Earl? He’s out of prison, and out of his coma. He learned things about karma while in the coma, so he’s back on the list. Each week, he rights a previous wrong and feels better about himself.

Ho hum.

• The bad economy is helping to save low rated shows
• Bravo confirms Project Runway ripoff
• Katee Sackhoff to play a murder suspect on Law & Order
• My thoughts exactly: Best Week Ever not as funny with one host
• Random: Michael Chiklis fills in for Regis Philbin
• Here’s an interview with the creator of Mad Men
• Maureen McCormick in talks over a Marcia Brady movie
• Wesley from Buffy/Angel to guest on Private Practice
• What we aren’t watching: SNL suffers Sarah Palin fatigue
• This day in lists: The top 10 misfired sci-fi shows of the 90s
• Don Draper offers some advice on picking up women