So I was watching this SNL Digital Short that a quick Google Search tells me is deadpanning the end of season two of The OC. I'll go ahead and get this out of the way, when the OC came out I thought "That's kind of quick-witted and boy, don't I wish I could have a rich daddy with fuzzy caterpillar eyebrows?" But I quickly lost interest as I was living in Southern California at the time and became disenfranchised as no rich families wanted to take me on as a financial responsibility and give me the chance I never had as a troubled teen.

Hope you enjoyed watching Shiah Lapoof get shot as much as I did. But watching this got me to thinking I should watch the clip they're referencing. So I can get it.

My house and heart flooded with shame as I remembered how I was like "Man that Adam Brody sure does have an adorable mop of hair that I'm going to try and emulate." Those were confusing times. My hair looked totally cooler than his though. It made me realize though, I had stopped watching the show somewhere near the end of the first season and NEVER looked back. If you know me at all, you know that once I need to know something...once that seed is planted, I have to know. So I immediately searched for a synopsis on how the series ended, which reminded me of how Mischa Barton is just...all kinds of unfortunate to me. These sentences are becoming run-ons, aren't they? They always have been? Fuck off.

I landed over at this website because Wikipedia was too lazy to have a plot summary for me. The author of this post summarized the episode with...quite a bit of emotion. Not very professional journalism, in this professional journalist's editorial opinion. I was utterly shocked to come across this conclusion drawn in the last paragraph:

In the end, Ryan achieved his dream. A college graduate who became an architect. It's fitting that the series ended on the same note that it started. Someone lending a troubled kid a hand. The whole thing is cyclical, as Sandy said earlier in the episode. What goes around comes around. Unfortunately, I don't think we'll see another show as well crafted and culturally meaningful as The OC come around again any time soon.

Are you fucking kidding me? Let me single this out for you.

Unfortunately, I don't think we'll see another show as well crafted and culturally meaningful as The OC come around again any time soon.

Are you still having trouble? Hold on.

as well crafted and culturally meaningful

Let me narrow this down for you.

culturally meaningful

As CULTURALLY MEANINGFUL as the OC, you say? The show that defined a generation? The show that ended apartheid and elected the first black President?  The show that single-handedly changed the way we view underprivileged white kids? The show that settled the NFL labor disputes and, in hindsight, predicted the earthquake and tsunami in Japan and tried to warn us with kitschy whore-mother scenes and Rachel Bilson whimpering her way through a script? Yes, I suppose you're right...the void left by the culturally significant program that is as ubiquitous in the collective hearts of America as the day Kennedy was shot and 9/11 has still yet to be filled. Woe. Woe are we.

What shocked me most, however, was that this wasn't written by a menopausal woman in her late-50's, Twilight hadn't been invented when this was written, and what's worse? A fucking man wrote this. I mean, we say "man," because his name is Jonathon Toomey, so I presume he has the anatomical equipment and chromosomal makeup necessary to be considered a man. But as far as being a man? As far as going into the fucking woods and chopping down trees and killing bears and having a grizzly beard and knowing how to field strip a gun and unclasp a bra with one hand while eating bacon with the other? Jonathan Toomey, if you're out there, find your nearest hardware store, purchase some sturdy rope, and hang yourself from the nearest tree/lamppost/erection-of-your-likely-gay-lover.

But right now? I'm hungry and this is more focus than I've put into anything I've done in at least a decade...so I'm feeling a little woozy. I think it's off to Subway for a five dollar sandwich that really costs seven dollars* so I can try and recuperate from the freshly reopened wound caused by remember the loss of The OC.

*Watch the entire series of The OC on DVD while I eat Ben & Jerry's ice cream and weep.