There’s nothing particularly unique about the story of Beavis and Butthead. I can’t speak for the way women interact amongst themselves but I know that when you grow up a dude in the ol’ U.S. of A., you’re most likely going to spend countless hours of your time with some other dude, keeping a running narrative of the things that are awesome and the things that suck, vaguely searching for girls and stuff to blow up. So we have Wayne and Garth, and Bill and Ted, and Magic and Bird, of course, Beavis and Butthead.

Theirs is not an explosive, fly-by-night Paul Rudd bromance. It’s more akin to something shared by an old married couple, not overwhelmingly thrilled by the arrangement but long-since resigned to the understand that they’re not going to do any better. And it’s hilarious, of course.

Beavis and Butthead was funny the first time around, but what makes it sing in 2011 is the protagonists’ takes on contemporary MTV “reality” fare. In the show’s initial run, Beavis and Butthead watching music videos made for an entertaining diversion from the episodes. They still watch some music videos now but mostly they tune to Teen Mom, Jersey Shore, True Life and the like. iIt feels like their take on pop-culture is the highlight of the show, and almost as if sometime in the past couple of years Mike Judge stopped on MTV while flipping through channels, watched for an hour and said, “Something needs to be done!”

That something, in this entirely fantasized sequence, was the return of Beavis and Butthead to skewer the programming. They’re entertained by it, of course — they’re laughing and cringing at Jersey Shore in the same way most others who watch the show do. But Judge does a pretty amazing job allowing Beavis and Butthead to present some pretty smart observations in a manner that seems sort of stupid, and, well, it plays. It’s like their straightforward teenage focus on boobs and explosions provides some form of clear-headedness.

The episodes themselves are still pretty great, too. In one, Beavis and Butthead think they’ve survived the apocalypse and decide to go live in the nicest place they know: Stuart’s house. In another, Beavis suffers an obvious existential meltdown after trapping a rat. They succumb to and provide fodder for the histrionic displays of a local broadcaster. They crash a car and get mistaken for meth dealers. Beavis becomes the leader of a religious cult.

It’s all funny, in part because at this point just looking at Beavis and Butthead is pretty funny. I think the animation might get undercut in the show because there’s so much else going on, but it’s really pretty awesome. If you watch the show, think about Beavis and/or Butthead dancing — just picture that in your head — and try not to giggle. They’re silly looking: Everyone else in their world is drawn close to reasonable human proportions, and they’re tremendously awkward, with giant heads and skinny limbs and huge hair.

Point is, I’m glad the show is back, so it’s the No. 8 best thing that happened in 2011.

Not all of the TedQuarters Top Ten Things of 2011 will apply to everyone. I tried to skew them so that the top things most likely to be universally appreciated by readers of this site fall near the top, but the site’s called TedQuarters so you probably realize that these are all just my Top Ten Things of 2011. And I may have missed some, at that. Long year, long last couple of weeks, lots of holiday-shopping still to do.

Anyway, I suspect most of you did not move back to New York City in the last couple of months, so this one might not resonate like Pascucci homering off Hamels or the forthcoming Taco Bell item.

But New York City is awesome, which is easy to forget sometimes. My wife and I moved to Manhattan in November, forgoing the comforts of the suburbs for the convenience and excitement of urban living.

On a sunny day a couple weeks later, I found myself walking around downtown — in pursuit of a sandwich, incidentally. I passed City Hall and snapped a few photos for an effusive couple that had either just gotten married or just obtained the requisite paperwork. Their joy was transparent, unburdened and contagious: Passersby in starchy business attire smoking cigarettes smiled and waited out the short digital-camera delay, forgoing the photobombing opportunity as the couple tried to time their gleeful jumps to the shutter.

A few blocks north, I walked past the Tombs, the city’s longstanding detention complex. From a door on the building, with little hoopla, stepped a man in a black bandana, a well-worn black leather jacket, tight black jeans and black combat boots. I try not to judge people based on their attire and I have no idea how the getting-out-of-jail process really goes, but this guy’s whole look — combined with my inclination to make up stories in my head about strangers, combined with the fact that I actually saw him walking out of a jail — made me suspect I was watching a man leave jail. He looked left, then right, inhaled deeply through his nose, then jammed his fists in his pockets and started walking. Perfectly cinematic, really.

You see stuff like that all the time in the city: The major plot points of other people’s biographies. And everywhere you look there are acts of human decency large and small, and then, of course, people treating each other like crap for no discernible reason. It’s a great place for voyeurism, at the very least.

All that stuff happens elsewhere, obviously, but the way it is compressed by the city’s boundaries amplifies the spectacle. On any given day you can walk around any reasonably bustling neighborhood of the five boroughs and make several new observations about humanity, or at least confirm some old ones.

Plus there’s tons of stuff to do and see, and basically every type of delicious food to eat. So for that, you deal with dodging the occasional pile of dog crap on the sidewalk and the knowledge that at some point you’ll forget to close your blinds before you change and catch some weirdo across the street checking out your balls. Worth it.

UPDATE, 12:00 PM: OK, hold on. I meant to keep politics out of this list entirely (as I normally do on this blog) but upon further consideration I want to include one of my favorite images of the year here, in part because it fits with the whole “New York amplifies people’s peoplehood” theme of the above post and in part because I hate that the long-overdue legalization of gay marriage should even qualify as “politics.” On July 24, 2011, the first day same-sex couples could legally marry in New York, some protesters holding all sorts of hateful signs predictably showed up to demonstrate across from marriage sites. So some smart-thinking, decent people showed up with umbrellas to shield the grooms and brides-to-be from the protests and help the couples enjoy at least a part of their wedding day free of bigotry:

We have to pay off this story, we have to service all of these character relationships, and when we started mapping all that out it just went beyond 110 pages. The studio said, ‘You can’t fit all that story in one damn movie!’

– Vin Diesel.

That’s right: The sixth and seventh installment of the Fast and Furious series will shoot back to back because there was just no way to contain all the awesome in one feature-length film. Suck it, Citizen Kane. FilmDrunk has more.

Slow day here today. Got busy trying to wrap things up before I take off for the year. The TedQuarters Top 10 Things of 2011 start rolling out tomorrow.