The few exceptions include Amazon Prime, home to A Different World, and Hulu, where you can binge Family Matters or, my personal favorite, Living Single.
The all-white simulacrum, which began airing a year after Living Single’s debut, eventually became a megahit, with the core cast members raking in $1 million per episode by the end of the show’s 10-season run.
Despite its own success, Living Single ended after just five seasons, all of which are now streaming for those looking to be initiated into what the theme song calls “a ’90s kind of world.” And those initiates should start with the 18th and 19th episodes of the first season, “Love Thy Neighbor” and “Mystery Date.”.
The first part of “Love Thy Neighbor” revolves around a fairly standard sitcom trope: A new couple has moved in upstairs and is having loud, frequent sex.
Just as the first episode ends, a handsome new neighbor takes their place and ends up stirring up even more of a fuss than the previous ones did.
The episode ends with a party at Kyle and Overton’s apartment, where Hamilton finally chooses between the three ladies-the victor was chosen by viewers calling in to Fox-and Synclaire and Overton, who finally share a kiss at the end of “Love Thy Neighbor,” making a decision about their relationship.
I won’t give away any more than that, but it’s fair to say that “Love Thy Neighbor” and “Mystery Date” combine all the elements that make Living Single one of my favorite shows.
These episodes and Living Single writ large so convincingly capture, through the chemistry of the cast, true-blue friendship.
The orginal article.
Generations of American children now have grown up watching Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, in part because it runs on public television, something that Fred Rogers himself was instrumental in saving.
Morgan Neville’s documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor tackles him anyway, and comes to the benign conclusion that Fred Rogers was the guy he appeared to be.
Fred Rogers was a kind and gentle man who saw children as important, his work as ministry, and kindness as essential to human existence.
Won’t You Be My Neighbor is less about Rogers himself than the worldview he embodied The film opens with black-and-white footage of Fred Rogers in 1967, playing a piano and then using a musical metaphor to explain, in the familiar gentle cadence that somehow never comes off as patronizing, that one of his jobs is “To help children through the modulations of life.” What he means is helping children figure out how to express and regulate their emotions during exciting, scary, and confusing moments they encounter in life: dealing with bullies, experiencing parents’ divorce, feeling uncertain about the future, and going through frightening world events.
“The space between the TV screen and whoever is watching is ‘very holy ground,'” Rogers says in archival footage at one point.
As a number of critics have noted, what’s so startling about the movie is the revelation that Mr. Rogers was, as far as anyone seems to be able to tell, basically the person he presented himself to be onscreen.
If as a nation we were to make one of those lists, Fred Rogers would almost certainly be on it.
There’s a clip near the end of the film in which a talking head on Fox News decries Rogers and the “Narcissistic society he gave birth to.” I briefly expected the audience at my screening to riot, because it was such a plainly stupid response to what we’d just seen.
The orginal article.
How much does Messi want to avoid the subject? When I asked him directly about his opinion via email, he – or his people – just deleted the question.
“Nobody is going to say he is not a good player – it’s about a lack of identity,” says Cecilia Guardati, an Argentine journalist who covered Messi when he moved to Barcelona.
The Maradona comparison is one Messi cannot shake, but it is also complicated; the two men are so different despite both being Argentines and inarguably among the greatest soccer players ever.
Asked about this approach over email, Messi said, according to his PR team, that “Today, there are people with a lot of interests and everyone wants to see things in the way that suits them. I prefer not to play this game.” The chosen trope, repeated often by those around Messi, is that soccer is the way Messi likes to express himself.
Messi’s first coach at Barcelona’s youth academy, Xavier Llorens, says he knew right away that Messi was special because of the way the ball stuck to his foot when he ran – almost as if it was connected to his shoelaces – but also, he adds, “He was special because of his shyness.” In the dressing room, sometimes the coaches and players had to double-check that Messi was even there.
The Ukrainian fans finally left after 10 hours of waiting the night before, the gardener tells him, but not before corralling the gardener and, in a last-ditch attempt to have their gift delivered, asking if he – that is, Messi’s neighbor’s gardener – might pass along the jersey to Messi on their behalf.
The neighbor shrugs then, because he knows what everyone around here has come to realize: that no one – not those who find Messi on Google Maps, not even those who live across the street from the place where Messi sleeps at night – is really his neighbor.
Because Messi does not worry if we want more or need more than that from him, because Messi does not worry at all.
The orginal article.
Americans seem to love sharing myths about Fred Rogers, the friendly neighbor known the world over as Mister Rogers.
Rogers was a man defined by his Christian faith, and the message that he taught every day on his beloved children’s show was shaped by it.
If this sounds like the sort of easy, shallow talking point espoused by the likes of Joel Osteen, consider these words: “Love isn’t a perfect state of caring,” he wrote in “The World According to Mister Rogers.” “It’s an active noun like ‘struggle.’ To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.” Rogers wasn’t telling children that they were so perfect that there was no room for them ever to improve as people; just that he loved them as they were, regardless of who they were or what they had done.
Rogers echoed the sentiment of the biblical passage 1 John 4:10, “This is love: Not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent his son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” The focus is not just how important it is that you’re loved, but also how vital it is to be loving.
Fred Rogers, the late host of “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” is featured in a PBS Digital Studios video mashup that celebrates the power of imagination.
Jesus’ point – that the Samaritan and the Jewish man were neighbors in a spiritual sense, if not a physical one – feels right at home on “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” where Rogers greeted you with a daily “Hi, neighbor!” as if the whole world lived in the same close-knit community.
Perhaps the gentle, accepting theology of Rogers is all well and good for children, but adults do not have the luxury of unconditional love and acceptance.
Rogers thought of the act of loving and accepting someone as your neighbor as holy business, as he said in a 2001 commencement address at Middlebury College: “When we look for what’s best in the person we happen to be with at the moment, we’re doing what God does; so in appreciating our neighbor, we’re participating in something truly sacred.”
The orginal article.