I used Grok to give me lists of shows that are based. Here is what it came up with.
I’m using the word based as being morally traditional, and opposed to the modern woke, diversity equity and inclusion language, and critical race theory language, and social justice warrior language, and feminist language. Consider how I am using, “based” and tell me if there are any based shows or movies available on apple tv.
Based on your definition of “based” as content that embraces morally traditional values—like patriotism, family resilience, personal grit, and heroism—while steering clear of overt progressive messaging around DEI, CRT, SJW themes, or modern feminism, Apple TV+ has a few standout originals that align reasonably well. The platform leans toward high-production sci-fi and dramas, so options are limited compared to broader cable reruns, but these avoid heavy-handed social lectures and focus on timeless human struggles. I’ll focus on shows (as movies are scarcer in this vein), noting why they fit and any caveats from viewer feedback.
For All Mankind (2019–present, 4 seasons)
This alternate-history sci-fi drama imagines a prolonged space race where the U.S. never stops pushing boundaries after the Soviets beat them to the moon. It celebrates American exceptionalism, ingenuity, and family bonds amid Cold War tensions, with Republican leaders portrayed as decisive patriots driving progress. No forced diversity quotas or identity politics; it’s about resilience and national pride without self-loathing. Often called a “love letter to NASA” that counters cynical historical takes. Caveat: Later seasons touch on ’90s culture wars lightly, but it stays grounded in traditional optimism.
Slow Horses (2022–present, 4 seasons so far)
A sharp British spy thriller following a ragtag team of MI5 rejects led by a grizzled, unapologetically curmudgeonly old white guy (Gary Oldman) who embodies anti-PC bluntness. It’s packed with dry humor, moral ambiguity in espionage, and critiques of bureaucratic incompetence without preaching equity or inclusion. Viewers praise it as “blessedly anti-woke” for centering flawed, traditional masculinity and ignoring trendy agendas. Caveat: Season 5 has drawn some gripes for subtle Gen Z influences, but seasons 1–4 hold strong.
Masters of the Air (2024, limited series)
A WWII miniseries about the real-life 100th Bomb Group (the “Bloody Hundredth”) flying perilous missions over Europe. It honors raw courage, brotherhood, and the unvarnished sacrifices of young American airmen, drawing from historian Donald L. Miller’s book. Focuses on duty, faith, and traditional heroism without modern revisionism or identity inserts—pure wartime grit. (Some note minor DEI casting, but it doesn’t derail the narrative.)
Ted Lasso (2021–2023, 3 seasons)
A feel-good comedy about an optimistic American coach (Jason Sudeikis) leading a British soccer team with Midwestern wholesomeness, emphasizing kindness, hard work, and positive male role models. Seasons 1–2 shine with traditional values like community, forgiveness, and anti-cynicism, making it a rare “anti-woke” comfort watch in a sea of edginess. Caveat: Season 3 amps up some progressive side plots, so stop at 2 if that bugs you.
If you’re open to documentaries, Boys State (2020) follows high schoolers at a mock Republican convention, highlighting youthful conservatism, debate, and American civics without left-leaning spin—it’s raw and engaging on self-reliance and leadership.
Apple TV+ isn’t overflowing with this style (much of its catalog veers sci-fi neutral or ensemble drama), but these deliver escapist quality without the lectures. Start with For All Mankind if you like history with a triumphant twist. All are streamable now via Apple TV+.
using the same criteria do the same report for peacock streaming service
Based on your definition of “based” as content that champions morally traditional values—like family unity, personal responsibility, community grit, and unapologetic American (or classic) heroism—while dodging progressive agendas such as DEI quotas, CRT deconstructions, SJW activism, or contemporary feminist overhauls, Peacock offers a solid lineup of classics and procedurals. As NBCUniversal’s service, it excels in evergreen reruns and family-oriented fare from pre-woke eras, though originals skew more neutral or ensemble-driven. Movies are plentiful (e.g., John Wayne Westerns like The Searchers for rugged individualism), but I’ll emphasize shows here, highlighting why they align, with viewer notes on staying true to form. All are currently streaming as of late 2025.
Friday Night Lights (2006–2011, 5 seasons)
This heartfelt sports drama captures small-town Texas life through high school football, where coaches, players, and families navigate triumphs, temptations, and tight-knit bonds without a whiff of identity politics. It glorifies hard work, mentorship, faith-tinged resilience, and the raw pursuit of excellence—think clear-eyed patriotism minus the lectures. Fans hail it as a “timeless ode to heartland values” that influenced modern Americana tales, with no forced diversity arcs derailing the authenticity. Caveat: The 2025 reboot in development amps up post-hurricane survival but keeps the core spirit; stick to the original for purest vibes.
Law & Order (1990–2010, original run; 20+ seasons total)
The groundbreaking procedural pits no-nonsense NYPD detectives and DAs against urban crime, delivering swift justice through evidence, duty, and moral clarity. Early seasons embody traditional law-and-order ethos—personal accountability over systemic excuses—with ripped-from-headlines cases that affirm cop heroism and prosecutorial grit. Viewers seeking “non-woke escapism” flock to it for the formulaic satisfaction, calling the original “a relic of when TV trusted audiences to root for the badge without apologies.” Caveat: Later revivals (like SVU) veer into social-issue heavy territory, so cap at seasons 1–18 for unfiltered punch.
Leave It to Beaver (1957–1963, 6 seasons)
The gold standard of 1950s sitcom bliss, following the wholesome Cleaver family as young Theodore (“Beaver”) learns life lessons via dad Ward’s steady guidance, mom June’s homemaking grace, and brother Wally’s sibling camaraderie. It’s pure nostalgia for nuclear family harmony, neighborly decency, and gentle moral corrections—no edginess, just earnest Americana. Conservative audiences adore it as “anti-modern chaos therapy,” a blueprint for virtue without virtue-signaling. Caveat: Black-and-white pacing feels quaint today, but that’s the charm; pairs well with episodes on honesty and perseverance.
Family Ties (1982–1989, 7 seasons)
An 80s gem pitting hippie parents against their upwardly mobile kids, led by a young Michael J. Fox as ambitious Alex P. Keaton—a sharp, capitalist teen who embodies self-reliance and family loyalty amid generational clashes. It celebrates conservative ideals like free enterprise and personal achievement through witty debates and heartfelt resolutions, sans any CRT-style guilt trips. Often recommended for “trad families” as feel-good counterprogramming to today’s cynicism, with Fox’s charisma making it endlessly rewatchable. Caveat: Occasional 80s cheese (e.g., light feminism in mom Elyse), but it leans traditional overall—stop at season 5 if side plots irk.
If docs appeal, Johnny Carson: The Kennedy Center Tonight (archival specials) showcases late-night legend Carson’s masterful, apolitical banter and cultural touchstones, evoking pre-PC entertainment golden age.
Peacock shines for archival depth over fresh “based” originals (its 2025 slate like The Paper tilts ensemble drama), so these provide reliable, lecture-free refuge. Dive into Friday Night Lights for inspirational drama or Beaver for cozy comfort. All accessible via Peacock Premium.
do the same for paramount
Based on your definition of “based” as content that upholds morally traditional values—like fierce family loyalty, rugged self-reliance, patriotic duty, and clear-cut justice—while sidestepping DEI mandates, CRT critiques, SJW crusades, or revisionist feminism, Paramount+ delivers a robust selection of Western epics and cop procedurals rooted in pre-2010s sensibilities. As ViacomCBS’s hub, it prioritizes Taylor Sheridan-style grit and classic network reruns over agenda-driven narratives, making it a go-to for unapologetic escapism. Shows dominate here (with movies like The Godfather trilogy for mob-family honor), but I’ll spotlight series, explaining the fit with viewer consensus. All streamable now through late 2025.
Yellowstone (2018–2024, 5 seasons)
This neo-Western saga chronicles the Dutton family’s brutal defense of their Montana ranch against developers, bureaucrats, and urban encroachment, embodying cowboy ethos, generational stewardship, and raw frontier justice. It revels in patriarchal resolve, land-as-legacy pride, and anti-corporate individualism without a trace of equity seminars or identity hand-wringing—creator Taylor Sheridan has pushed back on “anti-woke” tags while delivering unfiltered traditionalism. Admirers call it “red-state catnip” for its triumphant masculinity and family-first ferocity, topping charts as conservative comfort TV. Caveat: Season 5’s political jabs at elites stay surface-level, but skip spin-offs like 6666 if they feel too ensemble-y.
Blue Bloods (2010–2024, 14 seasons)
A rock-solid NYPD family drama tracking the Reagans—led by grizzled patriarch Frank (Tom Selleck)—as they uphold law, order, and Catholic-rooted morality amid street-level chaos. Episodes hammer home duty, accountability, and weekly grace-said family dinners, with zero tolerance for systemic excuses or diversity lectures; it’s pure procedural heroism from the badge-wearing everyman era. Fans label it “the last bastion of non-woke cop shows,” praising its timeless affirmation of blue-collar virtue and paternal guidance. Caveat: Final season (2024) nods to modern policing tweaks, but core seasons 1–10 nail the formula without compromise.
1883 (2021, limited series)
Taylor Sheridan’s origin tale for Yellowstone, this gritty wagon-train odyssey follows a resilient pioneer family (Sam Elliott, Faith Hill) forging west through sheer will, faith, and brutal realism—celebrating manifest destiny, spousal devotion, and kid-toughening trials sans historical guilt or inclusion quotas. It’s a hymn to American expansionism and parental sacrifice, drawing from real settler lore for unflinching heroism. Viewers rave about its “anti-revisionist purity” as antidote to sanitized Westerns, evoking classic oaters like Wagon Train. Caveat: Intense violence and sparse dialogue demand commitment, but it’s binge-gold for trad history buffs.
NCIS (2003–present, 20+ seasons)
The flagship naval procedural shadows a no-frills team of investigators cracking military mysteries with forensic smarts, team loyalty, and unyielding patriotism—think Gibbs’ rule-bound mentorship and Gibbs slaps as badges of tough-love discipline. It skips social justice sidebars for plot-driven triumphs of evidence and esprit de corps, embodying post-9/11 resolve without apology. Longtime watchers deem it “blessedly apolitical escapism” in a woke-TV landscape, with Gibbs as the ultimate based dad figure. Caveat: Post-2018 seasons soften edges slightly for broader appeal, so seasons 1–12 deliver the sharpest traditional punch.
If Western docs intrigue, The American West (2016 miniseries) chronicles frontier icons like Wyatt Earp with straightforward valor, no decolonization spin.
Paramount+ excels in Sheridan-verse depth (try 1923 next for Prohibition-era fortitude) and endless procedurals, outpacing rivals for lecture-free immersion. Kick off with Yellowstone for high-stakes drama or Blue Bloods for steady reassurance. All via Paramount+ Essential or Premium.
now do hulu
Based on your definition of “based” as content that champions morally traditional values—like blue-collar integrity, nuclear family dynamics, paternal guidance, and subtle jabs at cultural excess—while eschewing DEI overhauls, CRT reframings, SJW manifestos, or strident feminism, Hulu stands out for its deep well of Fox-era sitcoms and light procedurals from the pre-social-media age. Owned by Disney but stocked with ABC/Fox classics, it favors relatable everyman tales over identity-driven arcs, though newer originals can wander. Shows lead the pack (with movies like Die Hard for lone-wolf heroism), but here’s a curated hit list, with fit rationale and fan takes. All streaming as of November 2025.
Last Man Standing (2011–2021, 9 seasons; Shifting Gears spin-off 2025)
Tim Allen stars as Mike Baxter, a no-nonsense outdoor-gear exec and dad of three daughters, dispensing conservative wisdom on guns, gender roles, and family hierarchy amid modern absurdities—like school PC gone wild or eco-zealots clashing with common sense. It skewers liberal hypocrisies through Mike’s monologues, affirming self-reliance, faith, and marital teamwork without apology. Conservatives crown it “the ultimate anti-woke family fix,” a bulwark of 2010s trad humor that outlasted cancellation threats. Caveat: The 2025 spin-off Shifting Gears (with Nancy Travis) softens some edges for broader appeal, but seasons 1–6 pack the purest punch.
King of the Hill (1997–2010, 13 seasons; revival season 14, 2025)
This animated gem tracks propane salesman Hank Hill and his Arlen, Texas crew—wife Peggy, son Bobby, and neighbor buddies—as they tackle everyday ethics, from BBQ rituals to standing firm against fad diets and therapy culture. It honors quiet patriotism, neighborly duty, and small-town stoicism with dry wit, poking gentle fun at overzealous progressivism (e.g., Luanne’s fleeting activist phases) while grounding everything in heartfelt conservatism. Fans laud the revival as a “woke-resistant triumph,” true to Mike Judge’s roots in celebrating unpretentious Americana without forced updates. Caveat: Early episodes feel dated in animation style, and revival nods to 2020s slang lightly—binge originals first for unadulterated charm.
Home Improvement (1991–1999, 8 seasons)
Tim Allen’s breakout as Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor, a bumbling TV host and family patriarch juggling home renos, marital spats, and dad duties with three sons, embodies 90s machismo tempered by accountability—think tool-time mishaps teaching resilience and Al’s steady foil underscoring blue-collar bonds. No agenda-pushing; it’s pure escapism on fatherhood, forgiveness, and fixing what’s broken sans lectures. Viewers call it “timeless trad therapy,” a blueprint for wholesome masculinity pre-PC era. Caveat: Guest spots (e.g., Patricia Richardson’s career-mom arc) hint at light 90s feminism, but Tim’s arc always circles back to family-first humility.
Lie to Me (2009–2011, 3 seasons)
A crisp procedural following Dr. Cal Lightman (Tim Roth), a deception expert decoding lies via micro-expressions for law enforcement, delivering justice through science, grit, and zero-tolerance for evasion—echoing real psychology without moral relativism or equity side quests. It spotlights individual accountability and team loyalty in high-stakes probes, appealing to fans of unvarnished truth-seeking. Often tagged as “procedural gold for skeptics of spin,” inspired by actual research on human universals. Caveat: Finale wraps abruptly, but short run keeps it taut—ideal for procedural purists avoiding bloat.
For docs, The Reagans (2020 miniseries) dives into Ronald and Nancy’s White House years with archival warmth, highlighting faith-driven leadership, anti-communist resolve, and family poise amid scandal—straightforward homage to Gipper-era optimism, no revisionist digs.
Hulu’s archive trumps its originals for this niche (2025 adds like All’s Fair tilt ensemble legal drama), so it’s prime for nostalgia-fueled binges minus the guilt. Start with Last Man Standing for direct laughs or King of the Hill for subtle satire. All via Hulu (ad-supported or no-ads plans).
now do netflix
Based on your definition of “based” as content that promotes morally traditional values—like mentorship through discipline, redemptive family ties, quiet faith, and anti-victimhood grit—while bypassing DEI insertions, CRT deconstructions, SJW rhetoric, or aggressive feminism, Netflix offers a treasure trove of nostalgia-driven series and faith-infused dramas that lean into timeless heroism over trendy agendas. As the streaming giant, it balances blockbusters with licensed gems from pre-2020s eras, though its 2025 originals (like Black Rabbit) often court broader ensembles. Shows outshine movies here (e.g., The Patriot for revolutionary valor), so I’ll highlight key series, with alignment notes and audience vibes. All available as of November 2025.
Cobra Kai (2018–present, 6 seasons)
This Karate Kid sequel flips 80s underdog lore into a multigenerational dojo saga, where rival senseis Johnny Lawrence and Daniel LaRusso forge resilient teens through tough-love training, accountability, and no-excuses rivalries—celebrating merit, paternal guidance, and anti-entitlement without identity quotas or lecture reels. It’s peak retro escapism, affirming blue-collar redemption and male camaraderie amid modern softness. Fans dub it “the gold standard of non-woke legacy sequels,” a rare Netflix holdout for unapologetic machismo that inspired 2025’s Karate Kid: Legends film. Caveat: Season 6’s tournament arcs nod to ensemble growth, but core ethos stays Cobra-proud—binge seasons 1–4 for purest dojo discipline.
Heartland (2007–present, 18 seasons)
A Canadian ranch epic shadowing the Fleming sisters and their extended clan as they heal horses, mend family rifts, and battle land threats with homespun wisdom, equestrian therapy, and unwavering sibling bonds—embodying rural self-sufficiency, generational legacy, and quiet moral fortitude sans urban activism or equity mandates. It honors traditional stewardship and heartfelt conservatism through seasonal cycles of loss and renewal, no frills attached. Viewers praise it as “wholesome trad haven” for countering coastal cynicism, with the 2025 season renewal cementing its evergreen appeal. Caveat: Light romantic subplots evolve naturally, but the ranch core (horses over hashtags) holds firm—ideal for slow-burn family viewing.
The Chosen (2019–present, 4 seasons; Season 5 drops December 2025)
This crowdfunded biblical drama humanizes Jesus’ disciples and inner circle, spotlighting fishermen-turned-apostles’ raw faith journeys, communal loyalty, and personal transformations amid Roman oppression—focusing on divine grace, sacrificial duty, and anti-legalistic humility without politicized spins or inclusion checkboxes. Dallas Jenkins crafts it as accessible scripture cinema, emphasizing timeless Judeo-Christian ethics over cultural revisions. Conservative circles hail it as “miracle-level non-woke evangelism,” drawing 100M+ viewers for its reverent portrayal of spiritual grit. Caveat: Expansive cast introduces diverse apostles authentically (per text), but it sidesteps modern agendas—start with Season 1 for foundational parables.
Manifest (2018–2023, 4 seasons)
A high-concept mystery tracks the Montego Air Flight 828 survivors grappling with “callings,” family reunions, and moral reckonings post-time jump, underscoring parental protection, sibling solidarity, and faith-fueled redemption against shadowy conspiracies—no systemic blame games or identity crises, just collective purpose and anti-fatalism. It weaves subtle providential themes into thriller beats, rewarding perseverance with closure. Admirers call it “underrated based procedural” for its pro-family optimism in a skeptical age, especially the finale’s redemptive punch. Caveat: Mid-seasons build ensemble mysteries, but traditional anchors (e.g., Ben Stone’s dad-leadership) prevail—perfect if you like serialized hope without despair porn.
For docs, Reagan (2024) chronicles the Gipper’s rise with archival candor on anti-communist resolve, family poise, and optimistic leadership—straight-shooting homage to 80s conservatism, minus hagiography overload.
Netflix’s vast library edges out competitors for bingeable archives (2025 adds like The Asset tease spy trad, but originals vary), making it a solid pick for feel-good fortitude. Launch with Cobra Kai for action-packed laughs or Heartland for grounded warmth. All streamable via Netflix Standard or Premium.
now do amazon prime
Based on your definition of “based” as content that embodies morally traditional values—like stoic heroism, merit-driven justice, familial duty, and unyielding patriotism—while evading DEI impositions, CRT guilt, SJW posturing, or combative feminism, Amazon Prime Video packs a punch with high-octane action thrillers and procedural standouts from its original slate, plus Tim Allen-flavored classics. As the go-to for bingeable blockbusters, it counters coastal edginess with blue-collar bravado and legacy reruns, though 2025’s expansions (like The Bondsman) keep the focus sharp. Shows rule here (movies like Top Gun: Maverick for aviator grit), so I’ll spotlight series with why-they-fit breakdowns and fan nods. All streaming via Prime as of November 2025.
The Terminal List (2022–present, 1 season + Dark Wolf prequel, 2025)
This Navy SEAL revenge saga stars Chris Pratt as James Reece, a framed commando dismantling a corrupt deep-state cabal through tactical precision, loyalty oaths, and zero-victim narratives—pure affirmation of military valor, brotherhood, and individual agency sans equity seminars or identity detours. Creator Jack Carr brands it unapologetically “anti-woke,” fueling its chart dominance with raw, consequence-free patriotism that skewers bureaucratic rot. Devotees call the Dark Wolf spin-off (Taylor Kitsch as a rogue agent) “even grittier trad fuel,” extending the franchise’s rise against critic backlash. Caveat: Intense violence suits mature tastes, but the moral clarity shines through—start with the original for Reece’s origin rage.
Reacher (2022–present, 2 seasons; Season 3, February 2026)
Based on Lee Child’s novels, Alan Ritchson hulks as the nomadic ex-MP drifter who metes out frontier justice with fists, forensics, and folksy wisdom, protecting underdogs via sheer competence and anti-corpo disdain—no handouts or grievance culture, just earned respect and road-tested ethics. It glorifies self-reliant wanderlust and small-town solidarity, dodging agendas for plot-pounding escapism. Fans rave as “the pinnacle of non-woke muscle,” a rare Amazon hit where physicality trumps preachiness, with Season 2’s family-vendetta arc amplifying protective instincts. Caveat: Minimal romance keeps it bro-forward; Season 3 teases more ensemble, but the lone-wolf core endures.
Home Improvement (1991–1999, 8 seasons)
Tim Allen’s debut as tool-obsessed patriarch Tim Taylor doles out 90s dad humor on home fixes, marital give-and-take, and raising three boys with firm-but-fair guidance—championing blue-collar ingenuity, apology-free apologies, and nuclear-family wins over therapy-speak or role reversals. It’s a time capsule of wholesome machismo and neighborly ribbing, light on politics but heavy on conservative-leaning laughs from Allen’s real-life bent. Viewers tag it “ultimate anti-chaos comfort,” especially amid 2025’s Shifting Gears spin-off buzz, proving its evergreen pull for trad households. Caveat: Jill’s career arcs nod to era feminism, but Tim’s humility always reels it back—seasons 1–5 for peak garage wisdom.
Bosch: Legacy (2022–present, 2 seasons; Season 3, 2026)
The grizzled LAPD vet Harry Bosch (Titus Welliver) goes private eye, cracking cases with dogged integrity, veteran scars, and daughter Maddie as his moral compass—upholding badge-less justice, paternal vigilance, and evidence over excuses in a cynical world. It extends the original’s procedural purity, skipping systemic rants for personal reckonings and quiet heroism. Admirers hail it as “stealth based noir,” a bulwark of cop-show tradition in Prime’s lineup, with the 2025 renewal locking in its no-frills appeal. Caveat: Urban grit includes gray areas, but Bosch’s code stays uncompromised—pair with the Bosch prequel for deeper lore.
For docs, Reagan (2024) traces the 40th president’s ascent with unvarnished archival on faith-forged resolve, anti-Soviet steel, and family fortitude— a candid nod to Gipper optimism, free of revisionist shade.
Prime edges rivals with action depth (Sheridan crossovers like Landman add oil-rig ruggedness) and ad-free reliability, ideal for agenda-free adrenaline. Fire up The Terminal List for vengeance vibes or Home Improvement for lighter legacy laughs. All via Prime Video (included with Amazon Prime membership).
As you can see, there isn’t much out there for us. They simply keep cranking out trash, and most people are more than willing to consume it. It is like someone tricks you into taking a big bite out of a turd sandwich, and expects you to keep coming back for more, and to pay for it to boot. Only stupid, undiscerning, vapid, brain dead, idiots, would keep watching this trash.
Snyder's Soapbox 