The KenJen Critique

Ken Jennings – Blog

Dear Jeopardy!, Hey, I hope you remember me. It’s been a while since we talked. We were a bit of an item a couple years back, in all the papers, but I think we both know that was just a summer thing. The last time we saw each other…well, the magic just wasn’t there. That’s why I don’t mind when I see you with a new special someone. Or two. Nearly every night! … I’m sorry, is this sounding passive-aggressive? I don’t mean to badger you. I remember that, when we were together, it seems like all I ever did was nag you with questions. Let me start again. What I really wanted to talk to you about was your image. You’ve got a good twenty years on you now, and that’s Trebek-era alone. Times have changed since your debut, but when I watch you, it’s the same-old same-old: the same format, the same patter, the same fonts, the same everything as when I first crushed out on you in fourth grade. You’re like the Dorian Gray of syndication. You seem to think “change? means replacing a blue polyethylene backdrop with a slightly different shade of blue polyethylene backdrop every presidential election or so. Would you mind a few suggestions on how you might really freshen up your act a bit?

I can’t believe people actually took this thing seriously. This is Ken Jennings playing the Jeopardy! drinking game by pointing out that Alex is getting older, the categories are getting more obscure, and the set hasn’t had a major upgrade in its lifetime. It’s just a funny piece of writing.

Others — gossip writers, in particular — chose to skip over the funny parts and cite it as the screed of a bitter champion. Bizarre.

Read it, though. It’s funny, particularly the bit about the Trebektron 4000, which he later updated here.


 
 
 

One Response to “The KenJen Critique”

  1. Juan
    29. July 2006 at 13:28

    What I liked about Jennings’ comments is that I’ve thought the same thing about Trebek for years. He’s just too polished, too smooth, too perfect. He’s like Bob Costas without a personality.