In the landscape of popular culture there are heroes and villains. Often times, the line between the two is blurred. Are some of the ills of society a result of entertainment that glorifies materialism, misogyny, violence and narcissism? Or is it the other way around?

One man who's legacy and which side of the hero/villain debate he falls on isn't questioned is master storyteller Ken Burns. In an age of mosquito-like attention spans, headache-inducing quick cut programming and where eating anuses for another night in a fake mansion with fake people for the right to win a fake relationship qualifies as entertainment, Burns stands firmly as the opposition. The documentarian gives us history and culture patiently. At his pace. Thank God he does. Burns gives us the films that Mark Twain would make if he were alive today. Just with a little less cynicism.

Tonight on PBS, The National Parks begins. We highly encourage you to watch it. I suspect there are countless others like myself that have fond, romanticized memories of packing in four rascally boys into a yellow Vanagon and driving to Yellowstone. We saw geysers. We saw paint pots. We saw moose and bears and wolves. Smelled the sulfur-filled air (my brother Teddy threw up) and watched the park rangers scold Japanese tourists for trying to pose alongside a bison for a photo. The National Parks serve as a highlight reel for our childhoods. And adulthoods. Don't miss it tonight. Set the DVR. Pop some popcorn. And remember.



Outside is America...