The Seventh Extinction

If you watch enough daytime TV, as I inadvertently did today working on my mother's taxes and other paper work, you can scarcely help but say "Bring it on" about the Seventh Extinction. There was the button-cute young couple raising their sextuplets (and older twins) before the cameras of -- I think -- TLC. There was Maury, where -- to hoots and cheers of the audience -- men, and today a woman, are tested for truth by DNA and lie detectors. Maury, who looks positively scary, perhaps too much Botox or tanning beds, opens the verdict envelope with the same zeal as an Oscar or "survey says..." Family Feud host. Dr. Phil is still peddling his tiresome shibboleths. And I didn't even get -- thank God -- to the tsunami of Judge So and So shows or The Hot Hormones (oops, I mean, Real) World. And we have the audacity to mock dinosaurs' intelligence.