I watched the final episode of "Friends" last night. I think it's time for a confession, something that only a few people already know about me. I've pretty regularly watched "Friends" for several years. I took a break from regular viewing for the past few months preceding the final episode, but over the years i've spent countless hours watching "Friends," time that will never be returned to me.

It was the second-biggest TV audience this year behind the 89.6 million viewers posted by the Feb. 1 Super Bowl telecast and the most watched non-sports program since the August 2000 finale of CBS's first "Survivor," which drew 51.7 million.

Measured another way, the highly promoted, hour-long "Friends" finale accounted for more than half of all U.S. households watching television from 9 to 10 p.m. on Thursday

Before i am justifiably stripped of my license to critique mass culture with a superior sneer, allow me to enter a plea of "guilty with an explanation."

I should mention that I've previously touched on the "Friends" phenomenon and its indistinguishableness from product marketing. It's easier to sell a lifestyle than it is to sell a product -- if a viewer is convinced that they want to BE Rachel, Ross, Monica, Phoebe, Joey or Chandler, then selling those viewers products that are associated with those characters' lifestyle becomes a very easy thing.

The title of "Friends" could just as easily have been "white," "rich," or "attractive.""Friends" is a very obvious example of the hollywood phenomenon -- showing the mass of viewers an archetype of behavior, thought and appearance to which they don't currently conform, and through product association making it seem like conforming to this standard is an attainable goal.

There are a few things that are inherently desired by people, and that don't require any marketing genius for their presentation as objects to be coveted: to be attractive, witty, racial pure, healthy, etc. All of these things can be further categorized under an even bigger umbrella: acceptance. Acceptance doesn't require any ornamentation in order to sell it to people. It's what we all want: to be loved, respected, lusted after, considered, and accepted by other humans.

This is why "Friends" attracted viewers in a way other shows couldn't easily compete with. Here were six people (nevermind that they're wealthy, beautiful, fashionable, white, urban, etc -- every desirable quality imaginable) who cared for one another, who accepted one another. This is an irresistible seduction, and it sells widgets like nothing else.

If you flip from channel to channel, something becomes clear. there are human figures on every station. If you flip quickly enough, it starts to seem almost ridiculous -- just image after image of humans, doing various things, in various positions, in various numbers. But always the human form, over and over again, on every single channel. We're obsessed with ourselves, with our physical presence, with the little round head, elongated torso and two legs, about two meters high, almost completely hairless, and the dynamics of our interaction with one another. Such a strange creature. How does it stay balanced? Is it walking that way just for fun? I'm confused. Their facial muscles are always twitching and twisting around; this must mean something.

Humans are hard-wired with empathy. We see another one of our species, and we unconsciously put ourselves into that role, imagine that we are that person. This is why it's so unpleasant to watch torture or executions -- we imagine ourselves being tortured and executed. The writers and producers of "Friends" understand this.

We see these six "Friends" and we empathize with them. We come to care for them, even though they cannot care for us. We covet them and what they have. We imagine that it's us in that little box, making sex jokes, remaining lithe and slender in the face of plenitude, and accepting one another fully. "Friends" owes its success to building its characters around the things that people covet most: beauty, love, sex and wealth, all under the enormous umbrella of "acceptance," which is right in the title of the show. Who doesn't want "Friends"?

And then, when the viewer is most emotionally vulnerable, when s/he believes on some level that they are rachel, chandler or joey, because they have come to identify so closely with them -- but something's still not quite right, something unnamed is preventing the viewer from attaining Chandler-hood -- then, it's time to sell the widgets. It's time to name that unnamed thing, and that thing is "Product X." You want to be like Rachel? Then get a Rachel haircut! Only $99.99! For a limited time only! That's the only reason you aren't her, aren't thin, beautiful, fashionable, witty and popular! Because you don't have a Rachel haircut! I bet you're just kicking yourself now, saying "My God...it seems so obvious now. Why didn't I think of that before?"

Problem solved, until we want to sell you another product. Then, you aren't Rachel anymore, and we'll only let you be Rachel again if you buy it. Not having this product is preventing you from being one of the "Friends," from being the 7th "Friend." Just imagine: Joey, Chandler, Monica, Ross, Rachel, Phoebe and Steve. That'll be you, Steve, just as soon as you fork over some dough.

A lifestyle is being sold on every episode of "Friends." We are shown an impossible image of social and physical perfection that ensures that our 50 hours a week in the workplace will keep going towards buying our way into that lifestyle.

And of course I want friends. Of course I want to be attractive, rich, powerful and accepted. I want to be the object of coveting, rather than the coveter. "Friends" made an awful lot of money for its sponsors.

"Friends" is a private club -- we don't just let anyone in. But, we might let you come and make sex jokes with us if you buy enough things. That's the message, lusty appeal, and dark truth behind every single episode, and has been for all 10 seasons. How many dollars have been spent because of "Friends"? And not just to buy things that are specifically advertised during every episode, but everything one needs to buy in order to complete the covetous fantasies presented on "Friends" -- every jennifer Anniston haircut, every (i don't know) Chanel shirt, Luis Vuitton bag, pair of Perry Ellis shoes, etc. It's all part of the same marketing ploy -- advertisers, writers and producers are all part of the same team, whose only goal is to siphon as much money as possible, by any means necessary, from the purses of the viewers.

And even if I don't have any money, I can still tune in, watch, and dream.

Maybe I can close this dark chapter in my life now that the final episode is over. It wasn't even very funny.