Asiam.23.01.10.song.nan.yi.and.shen.na.na.xxx.1... May 2026

There is a prevailing snobbery in film criticism that says: If you know the ending, it isn’t art. I call bunk.

The most consumed media on the planet—rom-coms, shonen anime, police procedurals, and dating shows—thrive on formula. We watch The Bachelor knowing exactly who wins (spoiler: usually the one with the good edit). We watch Law & Order knowing the bad guy will confess in the last five minutes. AsiaM.23.01.10.Song.Nan.Yi.And.Shen.Na.Na.XXX.1...

So go ahead. Queue up that reality show you’re embarrassed to admit you love. Watch that speed-run of a video game you’ll never play. Scroll the fan theories. There is a prevailing snobbery in film criticism

But if it made you laugh on a Tuesday night, or distracted you from a bad thought, or gave you something to talk about at the water cooler—it did its job. We watch The Bachelor knowing exactly who wins

Here is my controversial take for today: Stop feeling guilty about your "trash" entertainment.

Does the movie have a plot hole the size of a Death Star? Fine. Is the podcast host slightly misinformed? Whatever. Does that Netflix adaptation ruin the book? Probably.

You might not watch Euphoria , but you watch the TikTok breakdowns of the makeup. You might not play Five Nights at Freddy’s , but you watch the 4-hour YouTube essay explaining the lore. You might hate the Star Wars sequels, but you love watching critical reviews of them.