Breaking binge on Breaking Bad

A friend recently shared that, because they're so used to binge viewing episodes on Netflix, Breaking Bad “isn't any good” now that they're forced to watch the final season in weekly doses.

That's messed up—but I kind of agree.

Not unlike the self-satisfaction arrived at shoveling down a dozen Jimboy's tacos, binge viewing is blissful. Sure, it's pathogenic—and, yeah, my predilection for mass-consumption of TV probably stems from my mom's strict monitoring thereof as a kid—but it feels so healthy.

I'll tread lightly on the spoilers. But let's just say I'd rather eat ricin than wait six more weeks to discover Walter White's fate. Because it's not really TV if it's not a season of Friday Night Lights in a single Friday night. Who has the time to twiddle thumbs over jejune Breaking Bad cliff-hangers? What's Jesse Pinkman gonna do next week? I bet he gets his act together and Netflixes Orange Is the New Black.

The TV binging is so bad, my Breaking withdrawals lead to spoiler websites, so I can sate that craving to find out what happens next.

Pathetic. We all know uncontrollable binge viewing is not without long-game complications: obesity, diabetes, heart disease—just like binge eating and drinking. But I'm less worried about dying from cardiac arrest before Hank finally puts Walt behind bars, and more concerned about ruining good things.

As a binge culture that can't get its face out of Facebook, each bingification summons a little devastation. Just like those of us who think one of TV's best serial dramas is no longer “any good” simply because we can't have it now. What else does our orgy culture lay to waste?

I wouldn't know, because I spent the last three hours on Twitter.