Definition of WELTSCHMERZ
1: mental depression or apathy caused by comparison of the actual state of the world with an ideal state
2: a mood of sentimental sadness
Community, what happened? You were the chosen one, supposed to bring balance to the sitcoms. We loved you, we gave you our hearts, we gave you our laughter, and you gave us Season Four.
Don’t get me wrong, you didn’t do badly. But that’s the thing. Every week you delivered something decent enough to get our hopes up that you were back on track, back on the wagon, but never quite as inspired as you once were. And this would be ok, Community, if this was part of a continuing trend over your previous three seasons, or even came out of the blue. Hell, it would be ok if you suddenly became the worst thing on TV.
But you didn’t. And that hurt, baby. That hurt us bad. Every week we’d watch you and just remember how you used to be. Every week we would come away saying to each other “Yeah, it was… good” and just thinking that you would never be as good as you once were. But every week we came crawling back, junkies trying to get a fix off your second-grade product.
And I know whose to blame. Everyone knows who’s to blame. You ditched the genius who made you who you were and took on a couple of guys with an impossible task. It was obvious that they were trying, but come on. They had to reverse-engineer a unique formula that had worked against all the odds because of a single man, and they only had three options. They could do this successfully and seamlessly. They could flop completely and utterly at the first hurdle. Or they could sort of get it, but end up making you a mockery of yourself. Guess which they ended up doing.
And no-one blames you, Community. That’s the thing. We were all enamoured by your good looks, your cheeky self-referential humour, your wit and intelligence. You’re the kind of show that turns heads when they walk into a bar. And who could blame us? You were one of the best things to happen to American sitcoms. You were a fucking babe.
So we kept coming back. Again and again, we expected more but were delivered with just enough. That’s the definition of insanity, right? Do the same thing over and over and expect different results. I guess we only had ourselves to blame. But you’ve left us with a bit of a predicament, you see. Because after this, there’s no way we’re going to be seeing you again. Not as anything new. We’ll be left with our rewatches, every time finding something new to notice or laugh at. Trust me, baby, we’ve all had a few. But now, when we want to buy our complete box sets, we’re going to have to be forced to accept these rocky few months amidst all the wonderful memories of before. Somehow, all of us who need that sense of completion are going to have to reconcile your fourth year with all those beautiful ones that preceded it.
And I just don’t think we can.
I’m sorry, baby, I know you’ve been as hurt by this as us, and I know that you aren’t to blame – it’s your parents, NBC, who wanted Dan Harmon out of your life – but this is goodbye. We can’t do this dance any longer. Hit me on the head and give me Changnesia, please. I want to forget the past few months ever happened to us.
But hell, that’s not possible. And it fucking kills me to admit it. When I stroll down memory lane, it’s always going to be tainted by the finish line. I don’t know if I can forgive you for that. I’m sorry, Community. It’s over between us.
Goodbye, baby. It’s been one hell of a ride.