Netflix’s favorite sociopathic stalker and murderer has returned for a highly anticipated third season of “You,” a service original television show. This season features the lives of Joe and Love Quinn-Goldberg, a fatally flawed couple in the rich Bay Area suburb of Madre Linda.

Madre Linda is a rich, high-tech, social media-centered, gluten-free society full of shallow and selfish people that Joe – played by actor Penn Badgley – despises even more than the previous social groups of Los Angeles and New York City.

Joe and Love struggle with married life, blaming their issues on each other and the culture of the self-centered society they live in. Their expectations of marriage are not being met by the other, nor by their shallow roles in suburban life. This leads to the couple blaming their dissatisfaction on each other and causing them to look for fulfillment in places they should not.

The existence of their newborn son, Henry, presents a new level of protective nature within Joe while he struggles with trying to become a better person and the father that he never had. This struggle with fatherhood also features more flashbacks from Joe’s childhood trauma that help the audience understand why he has become the way he is.

Joe has delusions of righteousness and virtuousness that are conveyed to the watcher through his narrations – offering his inner thoughts and reasonings for his sociopathic and stalking tendencies. These delusions are what make the watcher have sympathy for Joe; his charismatic and cunning personality diluting the outright horror of the crimes he has committed.

Despite the issues with their marriage and the trauma from their pasts, Joe and Love work to maintain the facade of a normal loving family, keeping their dark secrets locked up in the basement.

This season still somewhat follows the cycle of obsession, obtainment and overreacting corrective measures when things inevitably turn south. The new dynamic of Love and Joe gives the audience unpredictable plot twists at every turn, following their story down darker paths than you ever imagined.

The combination of an unpredictable storyline, integrated social commentary, compelling dynamic characters and creative cinematography present a twisted yet fascinating television show that hooks its watchers from the very first episode.

For many in my generation, Rev. Fred McFeely Rogers is a straight-laced dork – a grey-haired grandpa wearing rainbow cardigans and sneakers. His show “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” is boring and its music is dated. This thought is not surprising considering the program aired in 1968 and remained on the air until his death in 2003 with little-to-no change. Yet for those who grew up with the show, Mister Rogers continues to be remembered with nothing but love and praise.

What makes him and his show so special? “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” is more than just another kid’s show. Mister Rogers used his time slot to give children a home. This neighborhood, in a world of saturated, simplified and speed-of-sound children’s entertainment, became a place for difficult conversations, encouraging words, self-reflection and jazz pianos –really good, jazzy pianos. 

The iconic opening riffs by Johnny Costa gently glide us through a quaint townscape complete with a trolley line and diverse suburban housing. We plunge into one of these houses. Suddenly the riffs swell into the chorus. The front door bursts open. And Mister Rogers sings into the living room,

“It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood. 
It’s a beautiful day for a neighbor. 
Could you be mine? Would you be mine? 
It’s a neighborly day in this beauty-wood. 
It’s a neighborly day for a beauty. 
Would you be mine? Could you be mine?”

He opens a closet door and gracefully slips off an unassuming suit jacket,

“I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you. 
I’ve always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you so.” 

and replaces it with a brightly colored cardigan.

“let’s make the most of this,” zip, “beautiful day! 
And since we’re together we might as well say. 
Could you be mine? Would you be mine? 
Won’t you be my neighbor?” 

He sits on a bench in front of the door. Dress shoes fling off his feet with a piano flourish, which drifts off into intricate arpeggios. The lesson begins. 

What’s the issue in today’s episode? It is 1968 and Robert Kennedy was shot earlier today – the lesson is death and the meaning of assassination. Or it’s divorce and how it is not your fault, kiddo. Or anger issues and how to control them. Or Loneliness. Or Depression. Or Physical disability. Or Segregation. “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” never shied away from heavy and complicated adult topics – why should it? 

Though children might not be able to fully comprehend such topics, they can recognize the impact not only upon their parents but their own emotions. All those feelings well up inside, so why let children’s hearts break when we can teach them how to show the hurt they feel? Mister Rogers uses the power of music to release whatever anguish one has to bear. Are you scared to show how you feel or are you struggling to contain it? Mister Rogers has a song for that. Do you feel unwanted? Mister Rogers has a song for that. Do you not want to go home? Wherever you are in life, Mister Rogers has a song for you.

“It’s You I Like” was the song for me. As a lonely only child with no kids on his block, picked on at school and parents divorced, I struggled to feel liked. I didn’t know if I could be liked or if anyone would care. But Mister Rogers cared. He sang to me after school sometimes,

“The way you are, the way deep down inside you […] 
I hope you remember, even when you’re feeling blue, that it’s you I like.” 

He liked me. He might’ve been the only one, but at six years old I knew that at least someone liked me –and that was enough to get through the day until my mom or dad got home and I could be loved. 

For the millions of children who didn’t have the love of their parents to come home to after rough days in their own neighborhoods, I can only imagine the importance of the unconditional love “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” provided. 

So, why was Mister Rogers so special? Why do we love a straight-laced, grey-haired dork? Because he could talk to children about their pain, taught us how to recognize it, to understand it and to control it without dumbing it down or overcomplicating it. Because when we most needed it, when there was no one else who understood and when there was nowhere else to go, Rogers was there to sit and talk with you just the way you are.

NBC’s hit comedy “The Good Place” will return for its fourth and final season Sept. 26. Also this fall, William Jewell College students return to classes such Responsible Self, Business Law and Ethics, and History of Western Philosophy.

These two facts seem to have nothing in common, but surprisingly, they share one important link – philosophy. Jewell’s course catalog for this school year includes the word ethics 41 times and philosophy 90 times. “The Good Place” also frequently references philosophy and ethics as it follows four humans in a supposed heavenly afterlife contemplating what it means to be a good person. 

One of the four main characters is Chidi Anagonye, portrayed by William Jackson Harper. Chidi was a professor of moral philosophy during his time on Earth, and upon arriving in The Good Place he learns that his soulmate is Eleanor Shellstrop, portrayed by Kristin Bell. While Chidi spent his life attempting to act morally to the point of painful indecision, Eleanor was self-centered and corrupt. The pilot – which debuted in 2016 – centers around Eleanor’s realization that she has been sent to The Good Place by mistake. 

Chidi vows to teach Eleanor ethics in an effort to make her someone deserving of The Good Place, a land of unlimited frozen yogurt and Janet, an anthropomorphized vessel of knowledge about the universe with the ability to grant any wish on command. Chidi teaches Eleanor about Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, Kant and Kierkegaard – simultaneously teaching the show’s massive audience philosophy as well. 

Does a half-hour television comedy really have the ability to teach its American audience existentialism, deontology, utilitarianism and other ideas that most people have spent their lives considering too complex to understand? Binge-watching the show might not turn you into a published philosopher but rest assured that the show had the help of a vetted philosophy scholar.

The show’s creators worked alongside Pamela Hieronymi, Ph.D., professor of philosophy at UCLA. Her plethora of knowledge on ethics helped inform the show’s creators of how to order Chidi’s philosophy lessons and ways to implement famous philosophers’ ideas into the characters’ dilemmas. 

While the show makes complex philosophies easier to swallow for the surface-level Netflixer, it’s impossible to dumb down the difficult questions characters on “The Good Place” ask each episode. As the show continues, the lines of who belongs in The Good Place and who belongs in The Bad Place start to fade away. What makes a good person? Are there any people who are truly deserving of The Good Place? Who deserves The Bad Place? 

First-years at William Jewell College are asked similar questions when they take Responsible Self. Every first-year has had to ponder three questions: What is real? How can we know? How should we act? 

These questions are also frequently asked by characters in “The Good Place.” The characters’ realities shift as the afterlife is redefined again and again. The audience is never sure what is real as the setting travels through dimensions and into voids. 

While the Chidi of the first season would say we know what is real through reading the works of great philosophers, each philosopher’s contradicting opinion leaves Chidi more distraught over how to act. The characters examine the many ways humans act. At the conclusion of the third season, the characters are more confused than ever over how good people should act.

What makes a good life? This is a question not frequently asked explicitly by a television comedy, but “The Good Place” proves that maybe it should be. The show pulls a 96% on Rotten Tomatoes , so perhaps audiences not only need to think more about what it means to act morally, but are entertained by such pondering. 

As mentally exhausting and frustrating as ethics can be, it’s important for society to have discussions about what it means to act ethically. For William Jewell students, these discussions are a big part of the curriculum. A basic knowledge of philosophy is a great foundation for success in most Jewell classes. 

Next time you feel yourself drowning in a course that made up one of the 90 references to philosophy in the Jewell course catalogue, you should probably study your notes or ask your professor for help. However, if you’d rather curl into your dorm bed cocoon with some Netflix, resist the temptation to watch “The Office” for the fifth time and instead turn on “The Good Place.” It might not be as helpful as doing your homework, but it’s a far more entertaining – and yet surprisingly helpful – back-up option to academic success. 

Your first interaction with it was by chance. Maybe your mom had it on the living room television or your best friend invited you to a viewing party. Perhaps you saw a tweet and decided to play an episode using your sister’s Hulu login information.

You told everyone that you watch the show only to make fun of it. You feel a wave of shame every time you tune in. Slowly, you get invested. You are devastated when your favorite goes home. You follow several contestants on Instagram and listen to a podcast recap after every episode.

Without you even realizing it, you’ve become addicted to “The Bachelor.”

Don’t worry – you aren’t alone. An average 7.8 million people viewed “The Bachelor” every Monday night of Arie Luyendyk’s 2018 season. Many Bachelor alums have over a million followers on Instagram and have built careers on social media. Talk show hosts such as Ellen Degeneres and Jimmy Kimmel have popular segments recapping and referencing ABC’s hit reality dating show.

The premise is pretty simple: 30 stunning and eligible women – or men, if it’s “The Bachelorette” – go on elaborate dates all around the world with an attractive lead of the opposite sex. Each week, the lead gives out roses to those they would like to continue dating. Camera crews constantly track the contestants to catch all the drama – and there’s a lot of it.

30 contestants living together with no technology or entertainment who are competing for the same significant other makes middle school seem like a peace rally. The two-month filming period ends with one of the two final contestants getting engaged to the lead.

Yes, it is ridiculous.

I watched my first season of a Bachelor franchise show 10years ago. It was Jillian Harris’s season of “The Bachelorette” and I was 9-years-old. Do I recommend parents allow their 9-year-olds to watch “The Bachelor”? Maybe not, but I do think that those who choose to watch “The Bachelor” should not be shamed.

I have always felt a lot of guilt for enjoying “The Bachelor.” It makes me laugh and is something I get excited about, but for what price? The show objectifies both men and women. It reinforces the idea that a fairytale relationship – the type that pop culture teaches us that we need to be happy – must be heterosexual. In all 22 seasons of “The Bachelor” there has never been an African-American or Asian lead.

These are serious flaws that the show should correct, but “The Bachelor” does have some good going for it.

Watching “The Bachelor” is a great way to connect with other viewers. In Becca Kufrin’s season of “The Bachelorette,” contestant Blake Horstmann discussed his experience of being in a school shooting. Contestant Caelynn Miller-Keyes talked in detail about being sexually assaulted on the Jan. 28 episode this season. Both of these instances brought attention to important current issues and sparked conversation.

This season’s Bachelor is Colton Underwood. Episodes have involved many scenes of the football player showering and tons of entertaining drama. He is a virgin and while I have been annoyed with the amount of time spent discussing this highly personal fact, it has lead to more fans discussing the stereotypes around virginity after the episode ends.

I like to listen to “Here to Make Friends,” a HuffPost podcast hosted by Emma Gray and Claire Fallon, after every episode. The podcast lightheartedly laughs about things that happen on the show and discusses feminism fails. It strikes a good balance between silly chatter and social consciousness.

The Bachelor is not without faults. However, there is fault in judging those who enjoy watching the television show. Nobody should feel guilty for taking a few hours every week to relax and watch consenting adults build genuine friendships and relationships. By using the show to start conversations about our society’s views on romance and gender, viewers can get some good out of a show that has the possibility to be more than just a guilty pleasure.