We’re fans of Duck Dynasty, the show that people love or hate or love to hate.
They are a family of gleeful gun-toting, conservative, Bible-believing, hunting and fishing, rednecks.
The patriarch is Phil Robertson and he started a duck call empire.
His son Willie took over the business and they’ve launched from a reality television show to all kinds of cross-marketed products. I’ve seen wine, books, calendars, chia pets, and of course, duck calls.
They’re (in my not-so-humble opinion) dangerously close to over-saturation.
Sometimes the humor is a bit gross and I know one episode in particular (with lingering shots of a buck’s rear anatomy) drew some ire from fans. But overall, the show is family-safe and fun.
As a “good” Christian (what is that anyway? I’m not good, I’m bad and I need a Savior which is the whole point of being a Christian – but I digress), I’m a little uneasy just admitting to watching the thing.
Francis Underwood is evil personified who will stop at nothing (and I do mean nothing) to achieve his goals. His wife is just as bad, if not worse.
We’d heard from a few sources, “Oh, it’s great. He’s horrible, you hate him, but I can’t wait to see what he does next.”
So we plunged in.
All I can say is, if even 25% of what is depicted on the show is actually going on in Washington D.C., we are in trouble. Big trouble. As a nation. As a culture. As people governed by the notion of right and wrong.
We finished season two and I felt slimed and went and showered immediately. And yes, when season three is released, I’ll likely watch. But I’ll have the water running. And I won’t like myself.