Was that Dave Franco as one of Rusty’s pledge brothers in last night’s Greek?

It definitely was this guy as Cappie’s Big Brother. Even though IMDB tries to deny it.

Right? Or am I losing my mind?

NBC has announced its schedule for the next year, and it kind of makes me want to puke.

NO: Why dilute the Office brand with a spin-off? Why not come up with a new idea instead? Oh right. That would be expensive. And take time. But the strike means there’s none of either available. Sigh.

NO: Practically no new shows at all, and definitely no definitive season openers like we’ve had in Septembers past. And the new shows that they’ve got are stale, stale, stale. A paraplegic psychic who solves crimes? A comedy import from Australia? GET OUT.

NO: Knight Rider.

NO: “SNL Thursday Night Live” — they do know that those initials mean something, and therefore the title is actually “Saturday Night Live Thursday Night Live,” right? Also: I don’t want any more political sketches than what we already have. And why Thursday? Why??

NO: Chuck has been renewed. I can’t quit it! If they air it, I will be forced to watch! And they’re following it with a spy drama starring Christian Slater. I quote from the description of his show, because its ridiculousness cannot be summarized:

Henry Spivey (Christian Slater, “Bobby”) is a middle-class efficiency expert living a humdrum life in the suburbs with a wife, two kids, a dog, and a minivan. Edward Albright is an operative who speaks 13 languages, runs a four-minute mile, and is trained to kill with his teeth. Henry and Edward are polar opposites who share only one thing in common — the same body. When the carefully constructed wall between them breaks down, Henry and Edward are thrust into unfamiliar territory where each man is dangerously out of his element. “My Own Worst Enemy” explores the duality of a man who is literally pitted against himself. And it raises the question: who can you trust when you can’t trust yourself?

What is this, written by Donald Kaufman?

MAYBE: I kind of like the idea of Merlin starring Anthony Head. Ditto for Ian McShane’s Kings.

That is the saddest slate of new shows I’ve seen in a long time. And this is not just because they’ve deprived me of my precious upfronts. I suppose I am resistant to change, even if it’s probably going to be good for me — in theory, I am all for year-round TV. In theory. But not if it’s going to be all diluted like this schedule.

I’m sure you all noticed last night’s two lovely in-joke moments, but I’ll happily point them out again because they made me smile. These are the nerd moments, and if we, as nerds, don’t talk about them, who else is going to take the time to appreciate the care and love that went into the gags?

First there was Barney typing up his blog as if he were a 16-year-old doctor with his own show in the early 90s (it’s the last scene of the episode). It seems like the writers of HIMYM may have discovered this delightful Hulu treasure trove as well.

And then, on Greek, which came out with a great episode all-round, Alan Ruck, who plays the dean, got cornered by Ashley at the Great Gatsby party. She talks awkwardly. We cut away, some other stuff happens. When we cut back to Ashley and the dean, she pulls a great Espenson (that’s what I’m calling it now — thanks, Jane!): “And so in conclusion, that’s why I think that Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is the Great Gatsby of our generation.” I don’t agree with Ashley’s logic, but I like Alan Ruck’s face in response.

In conclusion, I have now fulfilled my nerd obligations, and so will you once you comment on these winking nods to the real world.

Hey everybody, just a quick note. I wanted to non-ironically implore you to watch the second season premiere of Greek tonight on ABC Family. This show not only exceeds the (very low) expectations of the ABC Family network, it absolutely destroys them with wit and genuine good feeling.

I know I sound like an ABC Family intern right now, but I’m serious. Shows about college are hard, because college kids are a self-absorbed, lazy lot (come on, admit it), but this one manages to nail it. And I’ve never even been to an actual frat or sorority house.

Way back in September, Kyle, Friend of the Faux Katie, and I attended a taping of the Parker Posey/Lauren Ambrose/Amy Sherman-Palladino sitcom The Return of Jezebel James. I’m excited to say that the episode we saw is airing tonight! (Unless they cancel the show between now and 8:30. Which is… possible.)

This is our episode! That kid with the horns on the right is based on this kid.

Living in New York, and in the age of the single-camera sitcom, we don’t get a lot of opportunity to see scripted shows being taped. I’ve been to the Daily Show, which was awesome, but it was also remarkably similar to sitting at home watching the Daily Show (for example, it took almost exactly a half hour to tape). Seeing Jezebel James taping was completely different and fascinating. Watching the crew at work, manipulating these giant cameras at insane speeds and making instant decisions and changes and improvements, was like watching a whole other show in addition to the one being taped. I loved it. I could’ve stayed there all night just to watch them do their jobs.

… Which is good, because the taping went until after 1:00 AM! Keep in mind these numbers: Taping began at around 7:00. About 8-10 minutes of the show had been previously recorded. That means that we spent 6+ hours taping 12-14 minutes of actual show. Now, if this were a movie, that might not be so insane. But according to the audience’s cheesy host/comedian(?), who’s been a host/comedian(?) at dozens of tapings of many shows, in his experience, this was the latest a sitcom taping had ever gone. (Also, his family owns Town Shop. FYI.)

Like I said, I had no problem with this, because I was loving the whole experience. However, it did not bode well for the show. The problem seemed to be the house style of dialogue, those lovely convoluted twisty-turny sentences that tripped so lightly off of Lauren Graham’s tongue. Apparently, not everyone is so adept at turning the Palladino witticisms into natural speech. I adore Parker Posey, and she was delightful to watch, but it was not a natural fit for her — not the speeded-up rhythms of taping a TV show, not the mouthfuls of dialogue, not the increasingly late and exhausting night. Not any of it, really.

Her assistant was our favorite. Great timing. Get that guy his own show!

I’m very curious how it all turned out. Critics and audiences don’t seem to like it so far. For the crews doing overtime last September, that may turn out to be a relief. But for poor me who likes seeing TV being taped, that’s a shame.

So is anyone going to watch tonight? I’d recommend it, even though it’s not a slam dunk show. It’s worth taking a look, and not just because you may hear my laughter.

Hello world! Dan’s post about accents has inspired me to get back on these interwebs and talk about New Amsterdam. Specifically, why I am not going to watch New Amsterdam any more.

On the plus side, he wears awesome three-piece suits.

If you’ve been following the show, you already know it’s about a dude (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) who’s immortal and who currently works as a homicide detective. He has a sassy lady cop sidekick, a sassy ancient bartender/son, and a cute doggy who I believe he just calls “36,” presumably in reference to however many dogs he’s had in his long, long life. He won’t be free of immortality until he finds true love, or something. (I don’t know. That part’s still being hashed out. He seems to have found the girl and she’s into him. Do they need to have sex? Get married? Does she actually have to pull the trigger?) In the meantime he solves crimes and forces us through ridiculous flashbacks that usually involve some sort of antiquated facial hair.

The best thing about the show, that kept me interested for three whole episodes (I missed the one they unexpectedly ran on a Thursday), is that he tells the truth. When asked if he’s ever been married, he says 7 or 8 times. When asked if he thinks about changing careers, he says about every 10 years. When asked why he knows so much arcane crap about New York, he says it’s because he was there. This is kind of fun.

However, I’m giving it up. I don’t normally get offended at my TV (except at bad writing), but last night’s “honor killing” episode was so patently absurd and insulting to an entire culture that I could barely believe it was happening. In the episode, an Indian woman gets raped, and then her father kills her for sullying the family name. This is ridiculous and contrived, and just not right.

Also, and I can’t stress this enough, I can’t understand half of what Amsterdam says. This accent is… inexplicable. The best I can describe is that it’s early Marlon Brando/Eastern European/Southern gentleman/Brooklyn old-timer. I just can’t understand him. I can only imagine how tough he is to comprehend without our marvelous 5.1 surround sound.

IMDB tells me the actor is Danish. That explains it a little bit. But it still does not explain why Amsterdam, the character, has such a bizarre accent. He is adorable, don’t get me wrong. But I am not a crotchety old lady (usually), and this show is turning me into one.

Basically, I’m over all this new stuff. I just want the old shows back again.

If you’ve ever watched TV with me, you’ll know I have a pathological need to identify every minor actor that appears on screen, whether it’s a background player in a Reebok ad or the latest corpse in Law and Order. After last night, though, I may want to retire my skills, because I proudly identified this guy in the fourth quarter Amp ad, and I don’t think I’ll ever have a better ID moment for as long as I live.

Have you watched it?

Okay.

It’s Donkey Lips from Salute Your Shorts.

You’re welcome.

Favorite ad? Justin Timberlake. Least favorite ad? The peanut one with the unibrow lady. Honorable mention? The e-trade baby.

If you’re interested in the actual sports “plays,” that bit near the end when Eli Manning escaped a million defenders by the skin of his teeth — that was pretty great. Go Giants!

These pop-ups are like closed captioning for stupid people.

What can I say? I love the robots and the fighting and the time travel. I know I haven’t seen a lot of new TV lately, so you might start to question my judgment, but I still think that Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles is one of the best, most promising new shows of this season.

(Up front: I’ve never been obsessed with the Terminator movies — I’ve seen them each once — but I think they’re good fun. Except for the third one, which was disappointing. You don’t have to be a superfan to like the show. But knowing about the movies — a cursory glance at wikipedia will do — may help.)

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I will rave a bit.

…so I can complain about terrible punctuation in an episode of Ugly Betty.

In last week’s episode, Daniel decides to do an alternative runway show. He makes the invitations himself. Unfortunately, the invitations say:

FASHION GET’S REAL

I almost fell out of my chair, because I am nerd and this is the type of thing that appalls me. No one read the invitation before putting it on air? The director? The actors? The producers? The studio people? No one? Really?

Instead of screaming and tearing her hair at this infuriating misuse of an apostrophe, Betty hugs Daniel. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the least believable thing this show — which once set a paintball fight in an office, and frequently has characters meet in a secret hidden love dungeon — has ever done.

This is what happens when the writers go on strike and the graphics department is left to its own devices. Or should I say “device’s”? Or “it’s”?

I feel dirty just typing that, even in jest.