A List Of Things Thrown Five Minutes Ago

FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS SPONSORLOVE: THE DOUBLE-SIZED WEDNESDAY EDITION: Okay, two weeks ago I forgot my vow to watch all of the Friday Night Lights commercials, so I had to find the time to go back to the tape. And then I got a little behind. I just want to reassure the sponsors that this delay absolutely does not mean that I do not love and support them. Anyway, our beloved supersponsors this week, apart from Tecate, the Tijuana Clinic for the Injection of Shark Into Spinal Fluid, and the Benevolent Association of Law Enforcement Agencies Portrayed by Landry's Dad, are:

• TV Guide. TV Guide's biggest problem is convincing people that it exists. Back in the pre-Internet/pre-digital days, TV Guide -- like telexes, record-cleaning spray, video rewinders, and The Club -- served a valuable purpose. As broadcast channels proliferated, it saved people from having to kneel in front of the TV, spinning the dial in the hope of finding something worth watching. Just when remote-control threatened to obsolete that advantage, the rise of cable, and newspapers' curious decision to relegate cable listings to the fine print, enabled TV Guide's comprehensive listings to maintain their utility, with such added bonuses as informative interviews with Anson Williams and glossy promotional photos of Dick Van Patten. Now, after the advent of the TV Guide Channel, digital programming guides, title-searchable DVR listings, and Internet schedules, it may be hard to imagine why on earth someone would buy TV Guide. The answer to this is obvious: some people are senile. If you cannot dial a non-rotary phone, you cannot cancel your subscription. So the next time you ask "why the hell do we need a TV-Guide-sponsored mid-FNL recap of what just happened in the first half-hour," please remember that TV Guide's sole audience at this point is people with mid-stage dementia.
  
  
• Sleep Train Mattress Center. I know I've already featured Sleep Train, but it's having a Halloween blowout. Accordingly, in addition to its usual promise to knock you into peaceful rest with all the force of a runaway sleep train, Sleep Train will, for a limited time only, haunt your slumber with Hieronymous-Bosch-inspired nightmarish visions of tortured ghouls, masked serial-killers, predatory manimals, and sexy nurses. Sleep Train: Official Mattress Center of Concussed Terror-Sleep.

Once again, don't forget to lavish FNL's sponsors with your (legal) tender affection.