In a Goldilocks Society, it is proper to seek out that which is neither too hot nor too cold.  Why settle for less when we can have warm and cozy?  It is therefore fitting to reject what is too hard or too soft, too big or too small.  It is imperative that we make accurate decisions:  pick the exemplary melon from the market; select the best answer on a multiple-choice exam; meet our perfect match at an online dating service.  We want everything to be just right.  But where the heck is Goldilocks when it comes to preserving entertainment that

I know I'm not the only person to be moved to tears by the ending of a book or movie.  Books can elevate the soul or wring the emotions like a wet hanky.  Films can make graphic statements that are seared into the mind's eye.  So don't pretend you think I'm some wacko because saying goodbye to a television series that has been part of my life for a number of years is heart-wrenching.  It isn't peculiar in the least to feel sad over the loss of beloved characters — even if they're no more real than that myth about the moon being made of cheese!  (T

Be prepared.  I am not in a humorous mood.  I'm angry, in fact, feeling abused by a system that is supposed to inform as well as entertain.  Hence the title.

Do not mistake my meaning.  I'm not referring to boredom or an insult to intelligence.  My premise that entertainment could abuse is based, rather, on content and example.  It has nothing to do with quality.

Upon the success of my debut ENTERTAINMENT article (just kidding — but seriously, you should read it), I caved to unpopular demand in deciding to compose a sequel.  Or a string of sequels.  What could I possibly say to generate further lack of interest?  The solution is obvious:  I need to discuss what isn't Entertainment.  Like this article.  (Insert canned laughter.)  Okay, I'm being facetious.  The initial ENTERTAINMENT was well-received, and that's a lot to live up to.  I'm under a great deal of pressure.