"Gossip Girl" mini-cap: No more love in an elevator

Never before. First things first: Yes, Dan, sometimes people are treated differently because of who they are. Pout, shout, get a picket sign and protest, but please, get over it. Just because Serena knows this reality doesn’t make her a snob. It must be hard for Dan to stand up straight with that huge chip on his shoulder.

The latest episode, “The Dark Night,” features insufferable Dan and his bruised ego as the joker. Yet again, we see that Serena doesn’t have a superiority issue but Dan obviously has an inferiority one. Dude’s a drag.

On to more delicious topics like Blair. How cute did she look in all of her outfits? But what’s the deal with Marcus? He better recognize fire when it’s burning next to him. First Chuck can’t tell the girl “I love you,” then Marcus gives her the not-tonight-honey-I-have-a-headache blow off? Are the guys on Gossip Girl nuts?
Nate, the prostitute, acts like he’s nuts because, not only does he find himself stuck with a rich royal bully rather than an empathetic free spirit, but he told the bully the name of the island his father escaped to. I can’t fathom any of the girls being that dumb, not even Jenny.

These are the last days of summer and there’s a heat wave in NYC. On TV, this means a black out. Blair plans another party, and she’s still worried that Marcus isn’t in to her. She tries to get sexually cozy, but he gets all lordly, calls her a flower and says he wants their first time together to be special. Shut up, Marcus.

Lamest Emmys ever?

The show is average. Once you turn 60, you probably figure you've earned the right to be a little long-winded. Clearly this was the thinking behind the 60th Emmy Awards on Sunday night, because the broadcast rambled on and on and on like a drunken grandparent anxious to impart a lifetime of wisdom to a gaggle of disinterested heirs. The tag team of reality show hosts was rambling and insipid, the flashback TV tributes were almost uniformly devoid of entertainment value, and the one substantive political outburst, by "John Adams" scribe Kirk Ellis -- utterly appropriate during this apocalyptic election season -- was cut short by the usual flinchy, controversy-fearing corporate overlords at ABC.

By the time the big awards were passed out at the end of the three-hour-and-eight-minute broadcast, most viewers at home were passed out in front of their TV sets -- if they hadn't tuned out long before. And that's not to mention the absurd injustice of overlooking "The Shield" and "The Wire" completely in favor of a gaggle of mediocre nominees like "Boston Legal" and "Two and a Half Men."

But a night of pageantry this amateurish and underwhelming had to begin with an equally (if not more) weak and dorky pre-Emmy broadcast on ABC. The network started with big celebrities in gowns on the red carpet, and made them look about as glamorous and sophisticated as a gaggle of disheveled home economics students in a junior high school fashion show. Aside from Kathy Griffin's enormous mass of bright orange, tangled-seaweed hair extensions and her nanny-nanny-boo-boo taunting of Ryan Seacrest and his "manscaping," the entire preshow amounted to a string of inane interviews punctuated by promotional bits for ABC's new and returning fall lineup. Like a cross between a bad episode of "The View" and a two-hour-long infomercial on tooth whitening, the red carpet coverage made the whole Emmy thing seem self-indulgent and hopelessly outdated before it even began.

After that travesty, "Jimmy Kimmel's Big Night of Stars" (which aired before the Emmys on the West Coast) offered a mercifully odd "Daily Show"-inspired farce. From introducing Salma Hayek as "not completely Mexican" to asking Michael Phelps which nation peed in the pool the most (the U.S., of course), Kimmel's bizarre sideshow was a refreshing shift away from the Vaseline-covered lenses and tear-jerking of Barbara Walters.

But enough of all that, the Emmys are about to begin! Oprah Winfrey opens the night with a short speech about how great TV is, then the five nominees for outstanding reality host (Heidi Klum, Howie Mandel, Jeff Probst, Tom Bergeron and Ryan Seacrest) file onto the stage and prove Oprah a liar in a matter of seconds. Their rambling, unplanned opening "skit" ("Really, this is completely unscripted!" they keep reminding us, as if we don't believe them) may qualify as the worst, most painful three or four minutes of self-indulgent, ego-driven delusion ever witnessed on live television. Their babbling winds on, there are no jokes, and it all ends with William Shatner ripping Heidi Klum's clothes off, which Klum responds to with her usual robotic interpretation of "sexy." How did these sad humans come up with this mess? At least psychology professors studying the crappy decision making of groups have another disturbingly palpable example to throw in with the Cuban missile crisis.

Mercifully enough, when Jeremy Piven is awarded the Emmy for outstanding supporting actor in a comedy series, he remarks, "What if I just kept talking for 12 minutes, what would happen?" Then he answers his own question: "That was the opening." Finally, the audience roars.

After Zeljko Ivanek (who?) wins outstanding supporting actor in a drama series for his excellent performance on FX's "Damages," Ricky Gervais comes out with an extended skit involving getting his Emmy back from a stone-faced Steve Carell. Why isn't Gervais hosting this thing?

Next, Dianne Wiest wins outstanding supporting actress in a drama series for her role on "In Treatment" (easily one of the best 10 shows on TV right now), "The Colbert Report" wins for outstanding writing for a variety, music or comedy program, and Josh Grobin sings a surprisingly accurate but lengthy medley of 30 TV theme songs.

Laura Linney bests the very deserving Susan Sarandon for outstanding lead actress in a miniseries or movie for her role in HBO's "John Adams," and says the part made her grateful to the "community organizers who helped form our country." Way to turn the screw without alerting the censors, clever Mrs. Adams!

Then, let's see, we've got a tribute to "Laugh In" that's largely laugh-free, but Tina Fey of "30 Rock" wins for outstanding writing for a comedy series. And sweet Lord Jesus, we're only halfway through the broadcast. Let's just split the rest of the statuettes between Tina Fey and Matthew Weiner and call it a night. Somebody mail one to David Simon while we're at it, and justice will be served.