One could argue that Twin Peaks is the ur-text of my adult personality. Before that, my taste in TV ran toward Moonlighting and my film sensibilities were oriented around fraternities on vacation. Just when I was ready to grow up a bit, David Lynch, Mark Frost, and Angelo Badalementi were there to ensure that I grew up weird.
It was shocking, to see broadcast television specifically designed to make the audience uncomfortable, not just with the content —secretly sadomasochistic teen queen raped to death and wrapped in plastic— but with how it was presented. I was completely unfamiliar with the idea that art could do more than openly entertain, soothe, or provoke… that it could slip in the back door of your brain and lurk in the shadowy corners where it could do its dirt on the sly.