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I Heart a Hate-Watch. Don’t You?
我喜欢"恨追"烂剧，你不喜欢吗？（注：原文标题的Heart是一个爱心符号，读作heart。）
Hate-watching is a weird thing.
"恨追"是很奇怪的行为。
There is so much to see, do, hear, read: Why spend precious time, in an age of nearly infinite media, plopped in front of a bad show to pick it apart?
有那么多东西可以看、可以做、可以听、可以读：在这个媒体内容无限的时代，为什么要花宝贵的时间去坐下来一边看一边骂一个烂剧呢？
It’s like gorging yourself on a disgusting meal not because you’re hungry, but because you want to gripe about it later.
这就像你狼吞虎咽地吃下一顿恶心的饭菜，不是因为你饿了，而是因为你想事后吐槽它。
Or taking a vacation with someone you find excruciating, not because you don’t have any actual friends, but because you want to bellyache afterward about all the stupid things they said and did.
或者像和一个让你感到痛苦的人一起度假，不是因为你没有真正的朋友，而是因为你想事后抱怨他们说过和做过的所有蠢事。
Yet hate-watching is now part of the cultural conversation and arguably contemporary life.
然而现在“恨追”已是文化对话的一部分，也可以说是当代生活的一部分。
Chalk it up to morbid curiosity: We start watching a show because it looks appealing, but we keep watching because we want to complain about it at happy hour.
恨追可以归结为病态的好奇心：我们开始看一个剧是因为它看起来很吸引人，但我们继续看下去是因为我们想在下班喝酒的时候吐槽它。
It’s fun to be the person who describes a particularly terrible story arc or performance to our friends’ disbelief.
向朋友们描述特别烂的故事情节或糟糕的表演，让他们感到难以置信，这是很有趣的。
Besides, it’s better than whatever is on the news.
此外，无论剧有多烂，总比新闻上的任何东西要好看。
I’m not talking about guilty pleasures here.
我在这里说的不是罪恶愉悦。（注：罪恶快感指在看影视剧、听音乐、吃东西等方面的恶趣味，明知道东西不好，但还是莫名喜欢。）
This isn’t entertainment that we know is bad but that scratches some indefinable itch — your “Love Islands,” your “Girl Meets Worlds.”
不是我们明知某种娱乐节目不好，但它却能挠到我们的某种说不清道不明的痒处，比如约会真人秀《爱情岛》，喜剧《女孩成长记》。
You could hate-watch those shows, I suppose, but what’s the point?
我想你也可以恨追这些节目，但有什么意义呢？
They’re too good-natured to merit a tongue-lashing.
这些剧太善良了，不值得被责骂。
It feels mean, and unnecessary.
责骂这些剧让你感觉很自己很恶毒，而且没有必要。
No, you can only hate-watch a show that you theoretically should have loved — entertainment the algorithm pushed at you because it aligns with your tastes, an offering with a modicum of ambition behind it.
不，你只能恨追一部你理论上应该喜欢的剧——因为符合你的口味而被算法推送给你的娱乐节目，带有一点点创作抱负的消遣作品。
It doesn’t even have to be a “watch” at all.
甚至不必是要“观看”的东西。
You can hate-read books (better yet, a series of books), hate-listen to a maddening podcast, hate-scroll a social media feed that makes you stabby with superiority.
你可以恨读单本的书（更好的是恨读系列图书），恨听一个令人恼火的播客，恨刷让你自我感觉优越且烦躁的社交媒体动态。
But television is particularly well suited to this behavior, perhaps because you can hate-watch it while hate-perusing the influencers you schaden-follow on Instagram.
但电视剧尤其适合这种行为，也许是因为你可以一边恨追电视剧，一边恨刷你在Instagram上出于幸灾乐祸的心理而关注的网红。
In recent years, I’ve found myself hate-watching “The Gilded Age,” “Tiny Pretty Things,” “The Morning Show,” “And Just Like That …” and, of course, “Emily in Paris.”
近年来，我发现自己恨追了《镀金时代》《美丽舞者》《早间新闻》《就这样……》，当然还有《艾米丽在巴黎》。
That final one, a Netflix extravaganza of stereotypes and bafflement, is now embarking upon its mind-boggling fourth season of chronicling the goofy adventures of a peppy young American abroad.
最后这部剧是网飞出品的充斥着刻板印象和迷惑情节的浮华剧集，现在正在令人难以置信地开播第四季，讲述了一个活泼的美国年轻人在国外的愚蠢冒险。
She’s supposed to be endearing, I think? (Yes, I’ve watched every episode.)
我想，她的设定应该是讨人喜欢（而不是愚蠢）的吧？（是的，每一集我都看了。）
My hate-watches lure me in with subject matter I’m attracted to (generally, women trying to make it in a challenging world) and a slick production value that often suggests an HBO-sized budget.
我恨追的那些剧都是用我感兴趣的主题（通常是女性在充满挑战的世界中获得成功）和暗示着预算达到HBO规模的精美制作来吸引我的。
Then I’m confronted with reality: The show is terrible.
然后我必须直面真相：这部剧，很烂。
It’s masquerading as something made for me, but it’s rotten at the core, and I’m going to watch it anyway, and its makers and marketers probably know that.
它伪装成我喜欢的类型，但败絮其中，但我无论如何都要看它，而且拍这部剧和营销这部剧的人可能也知道这一点。
