This previous post was uncalled for. It was weak. It was unenlightened. It was, in short, destructive, and my motto for this year has been “Build up; don’t tear down.” (It probably sounds better in Latin.)

Demanding the tongues of Bob Costas and Katie Couric solves nothing. It leaves them with serious oral hygiene problems, and it also means that some other vapid morons will take their places. These moves will lend speed to the aliens and their rendering machines; they’ll know that we’re barbaric and that we’re idiots and thus have no compunction about boiling us for machine lube.

No, the better thing, the more enlightened thing, the constructive thing is to ask for Katie and Bob to become more erudite. More articulate. More clueful. So, I ask you both: please, for our sakes, don’t be vapid. Don’t be morons. If you have something to say that’s relevant to what’s happening on screen (and by relevant I mean increases the knowledge and intelligence of the audience, not this reminds me of something funny that Al Roker once told me in the NBC steam room during a nice schvitz), then, by all means, lay it on us. If, however, you feel the need to comment on how the costumes the dancers wear brings to mind something that Sammy Sosa said after the playoffs or to say how you think it’s a shame the Dream Team got their asses handed to them by Puerto Rico, then please keep it for yourself. Think of the children. Thank you.