Twisted Baby Stewie is a Family Guy highlight.© FOX Broadcasting Company.

There's a philosophy behind the concept of guilty pleasures, those incredibly dimwitted media products that are so bad they wind up being entertaining. Usually that philosophy involves laughing at stuff that should be taken seriously, or is so off-the-wall comically that the audacity is entertaining. Beyond guilty pleasures, though, are straight comedies: either ya laugh, or ya don't. God knows I laugh myself silly at The Simpsons. So what about shows in The Simpsons style?

The Critic ranks as one of the most notable in this category, and it felt like the winner of a committee's "Pick the best Simpsons clone" contest. However, the Simpson-esque pacing and side gags weren't as sharply executed there as they were in the average Simpsons episode. Family Guy is another beast entirely. Like all great TV ideas, it is an amalgam of everything. The final result plays like something from the mind of an MTV-spoiled television executive who thought The Simpsons had too much plot and South Park was too stiff. Actually, Family Guy's comedy is more like the acid trip of a guy who burnt out in the middle of a Simpsons storyboard and thought he was writing South Park. That would explain the two visually-supported urination jokes, the two references to inordinately large asses, and the ten-second flatulence gag; not to mention the ass-screaming sexual molestation side gag.

We love side gags so much in The Simpsons that this creator probably figured we wanted more, regardless of setting, timing, or contribution to the story. This would explain why we have a 30-second conversation that contains three different side gags, a cornered hero who consults a conscience that must consult its own conscience, and a moat around the family house that "keeps the black knight at bay." The best of The Simpsons would tend to reserve such outlandish references for their Halloween specials, whose seven-minute shorts lend themselves well to a lack of narrative coherence. All these far out, left-field gags do, however, is remind the viewer that the characters can't be relied upon for humor.

That's a shame, especially when a two-year-old and a dog are the show's most mature characters -- though I'm happy to report that's not exactly bad news. The ultra-condensed uber-megalomaniac Stewie is an incredible bit of comic fire and brimstone. Have Snoopy, Garfield and Dogbert truly witnessed their austere match in Brian, the family dog? Daria might keep this one as a pet. These two characters would make a damn fine show on their own (I know it sounds like blasphemy at this point, but I'm already thinking "spinoff"). Yes, the adult humans aren't bright enough to know how much smarter these two characters are, even after they hold entire conversations with them, but it's in the spirit of the guilty pleasure to be too busy laughing to care.

Finally, one cannot fault a show that pulls out every stop (even the stops we want) to knock its audience dead. I should truly loathe shows like Family Guy and all they epitomize, but I'll get to that once my sides and knees heal up.

Terrence Briggs, all-purpose animation fan, is more than happy to receive comments from readers on his work.