November 2006 Archives

More scheduling changes from NBC: Beginning in January, it's moving "Friday Night Lights" from Tuesdays to 8 p.m. Wednesday, which means while it once was trampled by "Dancing with the Stars," it'll soon be receiving weekly kidney punches from "American Idol's" results show. "Dateline NBC" will replace it on Tuesday beginning Dec. 26.

Following "Friday Night Lights" on Wednesdays will be the former Thursday edition of "Deal or No Deal." (That sentence can kind of make you a little dizzy.) And, of course, "Medium," though that could change if the show continues to manage a paltry 8m viewers as it did last night. ("Medium" did much better when it was on Mondays, and its paranormal theme seems a better fit with "Heroes.")

And once "Sunday Night Football" is gone, NBC will have to reschedule that night, which it will on Jan. 7 with a new reality competition, "Grease: You're the One that I Want," which purports to seek the leads for an upcoming Broadway revival of the musical, followed by "The Apprentice." "Crossing Jordan" will join the mix on Jan. 21.

While "Grease" could go the way of "Dancing with the Stars," it could just as easily follow "Rock Star: INXS's" path to oblivion. Because the stakes are genuine rather than theoretical - those involved really do want to get the best people for the roles, as opposed to viewer favorites, so lovable losers won't be spared from week to week, nor will difficult divas - there might not be as much drama involved. Also, since this is essentially an extended audition process, might people start to get a wee bit sick of hearing the same songs over week after week?

And if the show tanks, how many people will want to see a Broadway musical with unknown leads from a failed reality show? On the other hand, given NBC's coverage here, investors in this production of "Grease" may be the first since "Springtime for Hitler" to expect to recoup their money even if it closes opening weekend.

There's also conjecture that NBC will take Paul Haggis' Irish-mob drama "The Black Donnellys" - which it had intended to keep "ER's" seat warm while that show took a breather to cut down on its mid-season repeats - to Monday, meaning "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" could soon be homeless. NBC also has another midseason show, "Raines," starring Jeff Goldblum as a homicide investigator who "speaks" to his victims (yeah, I know), that can plug a hole, any hole, somewhere.

For the benefit of any future generation that might want to strive to understand the fate of the “sitcom,� let today’s date – November 30, 2006 – stand as the day in which the sitcom, barring some unforeseen resuscitation, truly died.

Why? NBC, honestly, truly intent on trying to revive the form, sent out screeners of all four of its offerings tonight. And though none of the episodes involved were truly horrible, they were clearly well below the levels of previous Must-See Thursday shows such as “Seinfeld,� “Cheers,� “The Cosby Show,� "Family Ties" and “Friends.� If these episodes were intended to resurrect the genre, then it is clearly nearly moribund.

We’ll begin with “The Office,� which actually inspired a few laughs. Tonight’s episode was written by Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, creators of the original British version of the show.

It gets off to a decidedly slow start, but builds nicely as the Scranton branch of Dunder Mifflin discovers it has an ex-con in its midst. After some misguided if ultimately un-incorrect race-baiting, it turns out the perp was incarcerated for insider-trading, and as he describes the conditions of the prison where he did time, “The Office’s� denizens come to realize prison sounds better than their jobs. As boss Michael Scott (Steve Carell) opines, “This office is the American Dream and they would rather be in the hole.�

The subplot is also amusing: Jim (John Krasinski) offers unctuous Andy (Ed Helms) disastrous tips on how to win Pam’s (Jenna Fischer) heart, which he too willingly takes to heart. Hence, Jim/Pam fans will be heartened by a renewed hope that Jim still cares.

But even this episode isn’t nearly as clever as what Gervais and Merchant wrote for their own series. And the other shows don’t come close to being even this funny.

The evening kicks off with “My Name is Earl,� which, despite the occasional inspired moment, seems to have lapsed into the sort of deadly self-satisfied posture that has felled shows far greater than it. Tonight offers subplots involving 274 bologna sandwiches, doofus Randy’s efforts to win over the beauteous Catalina, gambling mania and Joy’s anger-management efforts.

I was ready to bail on the episode after a mere 10 minutes, but, to my eventual dismay, held on to the bitter end. “Earl� now trucks in the sort of crazy-quilt plotting that’s more attuned to Adult Swim’s nutty-ass, random shows.

“Scrubs,� which has also been a little too self-satisfied for a while and has likewise indulged in Adult Swim’s brand of logic-free plotting, includes a self-explanatory scene of the whole hospital partying (wacky!).

Tonight, everyone’s dealing with the sundry outfall of getting pregnant, or, in Elliot’s (Sarah Chalke) singular case, of not being pregnant. “Scrubs� – perhaps due to the way it’s been yanked around by NBC – has reached the point that it doesn’t really feel it has to make much sense; its jokes come from relentlessly random angles, which means its plots feel no need to make much sense. Worse, its comic secret weapon, John C. McGinley’s Dr. Cox, has begun to become way overused these days.

Finally, “30 Rock� still manages to be fairly witty long past the point where it’s become apparent that no one cares how good it is; it’s about the TV industry and most of America can’t bring itself to give a $#!t, no matter how much its arms are twisted. Anyone who’s watched the show understands that, given the sketches we’ve been subjected to, NBC would’ve cancelled “30 Rock’s� in-show show “TGS� long ago (although, upon further review, given the fact that NBC picked up “Friday Night Lights� for the entire season, maybe not…).

Tonight, Tracy (Tracy Morgan, who has obviously dedicated himself to outdoing his beleaguered character in real life) gets a Mike Tyson-style tattoo, while Liz (Tina Fey) receives oddly sage relationship advice from NBC exec Jack (Alec Baldwin).

Clearly, NBC executives have been feeding show creator Fey notes insisting she make Baldwin’s fatuously arrogant NBC executive more likable (it’s reaching the point that one pretty much expects a romance between Jack and Liz). To Fey’s soul-draining dismay, she has been obeying. Or maybe that’s the only way she’s been able to keep the show on the air to this point.

Apparently, mainstream audiences have reached the point where shtick is not nearly enough to engage them. Or TV-drama writers have figured out how to include just as many laughs in a show as sitcom writers traditionally managed, while including a measure of emotional dramatic content, rendering sitcoms essentially irrelevant. Or realpolitik has created so much humor no viewer can bear to absorb any more witticisms. At any rate, laughs are apparently so readily available that sitcoms are on the brink of extinction.

- “My Name is Earl:� 8 tonight on NBC.
- “The Office:� 8:30 tonight on NBC.
- “Scrubs:� 9 tonight on NBC.
- “30 Rock:� 9:30 tonight on NBC.

Just in case the TV catchphrases list wasn’t idiotic enough for your tastes, let us introduce you to the “Top 100 Most Family Friendly Primetime Network Television Series,� according to the new “Myers Emotional Connections® Study of TV Viewers.�

Actually, it’s an incredibly long and involved list (three lists, actually, that’s how long and involved it is), so we’ll just give you some of the high points. Whoever was polled considered “Hannity & Colmes� (No. 11) and their taunting of intellectually inferior liberals more family-friendly than “SpongeBob SquarePants� (No. 14), “Monk� (No. 15) and NASCAR races (No. 16). These same geniuses found “The O’Reilly Factor� (No. 24) more wholesome than “The Andy Griffith Show� (No. 26), almost certainly the kindest, gentlest show on television ever, and, certainly, Andy never repeatedly bellowed at anyone to “Shut up.�

More: “Walker, Texas Ranger,� despite its high violence quotient, ranked No. 28. “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart,� decidedly not aimed at kids, was No. 45; “The Colbert Report� tied for No. 67. “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation,� noted for its tasteful evocations of human savagery and Vegas decadence, tied for No. 49. The World Series of Poker, a celebration of gambling, was No. 58, just ahead of the old (and apparently rather transgressive) Olsen-twins sitcom “Full House.�

Oh, and NBA games on ESPN (No. 17) ranked significantly higher than NBA games on TNT (No. 75).

The results broke significantly differently by gender: Men had “Walker Texas Ranger,� “Hannity & Colmes� and “The O’Reilly Factor� all in their top 10, while women named HGTV’s “Divine Design� No. 1, Food Network’s “Ham on the Street� No. 3 and HGTV’s “Designed to Sell� No. 9. (Gee, I guess we really are all clichés.) Honestly, if my parents had sat me down before the TV and had me watch any of those shows, I'd be certain I was being punished: Death by Boredom.

The No. 1 most family-friendly show overall? Speed Channel’s “Trackside at …�

Clearly, the methodology is haywire. This is what the press release had to say about that:

“Myers surveyed 6,100 adults ages 18 to 64 in May to determine their emotional ties to the TV programs they view, measuring nine attributes of emotional connection. The percentages below reflect the percent of viewers to each program who rate that program five, six or seven (top 3 box) on a seven-point scale for ‘I am comfortable viewing this program with my family.’�

Clearly, Myers then neglected to give weight to shows mentioned far more frequently than others. I mean, “Trackside at … “ no doubt is fine for kids, but I hadn’t even heard of it, so the eight or so people who may have mentioned it in their lists helped propel it right to the top.

Also: Wouldn’t most people consider most of what they watch to be appropriate viewing? Otherwise, wouldn’t watching family-hostile programming make them, um, bad people?

And what to make of the 14.7 percent of those polled who don't consider “The Andy Griffith Show� family-friendly?

Perhaps those surveyed also participated in this study.

Anyway, there's a great deal more to gripe about with this thing, including some glaring inconsistencies, but that's your job, once you check out the lists after the jump.

Perhaps it's time for Nancy Grace to slowly, slowly back away from the Trenton Duckett case. After all, she's already basically killed one person over it.

The New York Observer’s Rebecca Dana reports that Grace has secured the services of a “Crisis is our Brand�-style publicist to mop up Grace’s reputation after her ambush-interview on Duckett’s mother resulted in her suicide hours later. (The family is suing Grace, but then, if you’ve been following this blog the past week or so, you’ve probably come to the understanding that TV personalities exist mainly to get sued.)

You’d think being at least partially responsible for someone’s death might chasten, even somewhat, even someone with Grace’s armored exterior - she's been parodied on at least a half-dozen TV series, not counting her own. Alas, you would be wrong: Grace has gone out of her way to further exploit the tragedy, even doing her show live from the Florida town where it unraveled.

Orlando Sentinel news columnist Lauren Ritchie, who has been following the case a lot more closely than Grace has and has spent a lot of ink correcting Grace’s mistakes and in general excoriating her, last month eviscerated a press release from Nancy’s publicist:

“‘The police want to give Nancy special access to their helicopters’ to search for the child, her public-relations agent stated in an e-mail, and then she plans to scuba dive ‘Lake Ocala’ for his body.

“Leesburg police ‘asked Nancy to come down’ to find the missing boy, whose 21-year-old mother took her life after Grace badgered her unmercifully while taping a show.

“Nancy has brought ‘some of the most important evidence to light’ and is continuing to ‘uncover new evidence weekly,’ the young agent wrote in a breathless tone. …

“Just so the truth is known, Leesburg police did not invite Grace to come here, and when questioned about it, the public-relations firm backed away from that claim. Leesburg Maj. Steve Rockefeller said Grace never contributed the smallest sliver of information to the investigation. There is no Lake Ocala.

“As far as Grace's access to Leesburg's fleet of helicopters, that may pose a problem: There are none.�

Oh, well. That didn’t go so well, so back to the drawing board: Per the Observer, Grace’s publicist announced “Ms. Grace was headed to Biloxi on Oct. 28 to ‘help actually build homes lost in Katrina … to sheet rock, paint, etc.’ Ms. Grace, she noted, was ‘really an amazing woman.’�

The Biloxi Sun Herald bought that last one, at least, reporting of Nancy’s big-hearted efforts, “Grace did not seek out publicity on her trip.� So maybe Nancy should stick to carpentry and abandon legal punditry.

By the way, while we’re piling on, the Observer’s Dana did a nice little hit piece on Grace a while back showing how she has misrepresented and exploited her own personal victimhood for her own personal gain.

Every new series on Tuesday night is tanking. ABC's "Big Day" debuted last night with an anemic 7.5 million viewers, but compared to the rest of the lot, that's practically a hit. "Help Me Help You," which followed, managed a mere 5 million. Fox's "Standoff" lured 5.8 million viewers; NBC's "Friday Night Lights" 6.2m.

CBS's "3 LBS" had just a hair under 8 million viewers - that's not so bad, right? Well, consider that the previous timeslot inhabitant, "Smith," was yanked after three episodes when its final telecast garnered 8.38 million viewers. Oops. Apparently, scheduling network primetime lineups isn't brain surgery.

"NCIS," now that it doesn't have "Dancing with the Stars" to kick it around anymore, is back to its old hit form, with 18 million viewers last night. Enjoy it while it lasts - "American Idol's" just around the corner. And "House" had 17.16 million fans. And 13 million people watched "A Charlie Brown Christmas" for the umpteenth time.

And by the way: The stronger "Heroes" gets on Monday nights, the worse "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" looks: The audience that discovered how Aaron Sorkin plans to deal with Amanda Peet's pregnancy was less than half the size of the group that saw Hiro's heart get broken.

Sacha Baron Cohen must be sick of himself by now.

His publicity campaign for “Borat: Etc. Etc. Etc.� was unrelenting, but the film stood up to that. Then came the avalanche of lawsuits by unsuspecting dupes looking anything from vaguely fatuous to full-bore stupid – regrettable, perhaps, but given a litigious society in which every imagined slight induces “pain and suffering� worthy of “damages,� not altogether unforeseen. Getting punched in the face in New York for playing Borat – even though there were no cameras nearby – that’s getting out of hand.

And now, Cohen’s coup de grace: Breaking up Pamela Anderson and Kid Rock’s nervously passionate marriage. Per the New York Post: After a private screening of “Borat� for some of Hollywood's privileged, Mr. Rock "started screaming at Pam, saying she had humiliated herself and telling her, 'You're nothing but a whore! You're a slut! How could you do that movie?' - in front of everyone. It was very embarrassing.�

This, from the guy who appeared in “Joe Dirt� and the video game “Buttman at Nudes a Poppin’ 9� and has lent his music to such esteemed projects as “Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector,� “Charlie’s Angels 2: Full Throttle,� “Coyote Ugly� and “WWF: Raw is War.� One might’ve felt a little more sympathy had that been his response to Anderson’s work in the Fox series “Stacked.�

So, let’s get this straight: Kid is just now realizing that his wife is a sex symbol and that obese men around the world might employ her image in ritualistic self-abuse if a Victoria’s Secret catalogue isn’t within reaching distance – and that’s not the reason he married her in the first place? Can this guy even tie his shoes, or does he just use Velcro straps?

Meanwhile, there is much hand-wringing over whether Cohen can manage this same prank again. The automatic assumption that Cohen – a proven master of misdirection – will make a film featuring Bruno, the gay fashionista who served as the third of “Da Ali G Show’s� holy trinity of idiots seems disingenuous at best and buffoonish at worst. The thinking seems to be, well, the guy has created three comic characters; he has to be tapped out by now. Has it occurred to no one that this master of disguise might just have a trick or two still up his sleeve?

After all, this is the guy who asked Newt Gingrich if Republicans endorsed anal sex as a means of preventing unwanted pregnancies. So, just a friendly word of caution to people everywhere: If a guy with a funny accent comes up to you and asks you to sign an impenetrable legal form, and if you’re stupid, and if said guy with a funny accent seems to start playing to your stupidity, don’t walk; run to the nearest exit.

Tonight on “Law & Order: Criminal Intent,� the writers riff on the nearly forgotten Lonelygirl15 phenomenon, only here, the viral video appears to show its characters kidnapped by masked gunmen. Is it real or is it a prank? Not even the cops are sure, but that’s because they’re cops. Anyone who’s actually watched viral videos and can imagine how TV people might try to replicate the thing can probably guess correctly.

The episode offers a combination of an intriguing portrait of blind, blithering-idiot ambition alongside a bit of a ‘Those damn kids’ attitude from writers who are apparently a bit miffed that such low-budget hijinks can elicit so much pop-culture attention when here they are, cranking out their polished productions and not getting nearly as much media attention.

So I’m here to help them out by offering a new game: Fantasy League Law & Order. All you need do is, every week, combine with fellow players to select which torn-from-the-headline story you think will turn up as a future episode of one of the “Law & Order� shows. You can get bonus points by predicting correctly which of the “Law & Order� series will co-opt the incident, and further bonus points by predicting how the show’s writers will oh-so-subtly tweak the real-life story.

For example, this past week we had the O.J. Simpson book deal, the Michael Richards meltdown at the Laugh Factory and the guy in New York shot on his wedding day. Let’s toss in a couple of evergreens: Say, a celebrity couple adapting foreign babies whose bodyguards rough up civilians and a high-powered politician who becomes the star of a hit documentary. And, of course, feel free to add others of your own choosing.

So, a sample fantasy Law & Order league selection could play out thusly: Predict that “Law & Order: Criminal Intent� will do the Michael Richards story ("L&O" the mothership can't do it because they just did Mel Gibson), only the Kramer doppelganger turns up dead just as the video appears online, his house firebombed. So, perhaps the red herring is that the washed-up comic faked his own death to elicit some sympathy, that the badly charred body in the place turns out not to be that of the comic (his explanation - he left to clear his head at his lakeside place and tuned out all media while his recently divorced brother watched his place), and let’s say the real story is that the offended fan is upset, because he’s on the lam from the law but appears clearly in the viral video, which could have clued cops into his whereabouts. So the irony is the killer is even more psychotic than the comic, a conclusion that Vincent D'Onofrio underscores when he delectably overplays the line: "You messed with the wrong guy," almost turning it into a question. Then wait a few weeks and see how your prediction turns out. It’s hours of cynical fun and games and all you need to win is a “Law & Order� writer as lazy and unimaginative as you and your pals! Get cracking!

Speaking of fun and games, this week on “The Unit,� Jonas is captured by rebel forces in the former Soviet Republic of Georgia. He’s badly beaten and waterboarded, while his colleagues back home try to reason with unsympathetic forces at home and abroad to affect his release. Obviously, tonight’s “Unit� borrows heavily on current events – including how the ongoing debate on torture elicited additional dialogue when correspondents for Current (Al Gore’s semi-interactive network) and Fox News subjected themselves to waterboarding. (Current’s guy lasted longer.)

Hence, the episode’s subtext is that if America turns a blind eye to torture, this is the sort of treatment we can expect of our soldiers should they fall in enemy hands. Plotlines on “The Unit� tend to be rather foursquare, and this episode doesn’t seem to have spent much time in co-creator David Mamet’s typewriter, but the intrigue here comes in watching Dennis Haysbert, as Jonas, do everything in his power to trick, cajole and manipulate his captors.

“Law & Order: Criminal Intent:� 9 p.m. Tuesday on NBC.
“The Unit:� 9 p.m. Tuesday on CBS.

If you're really, really curious as to what happened during that hostage crisis in the bank that's playing out on "The Nine," well, sorry. In an act of stealth programming, ABC during the long holiday weekend quietly trotted the show into a back alley, forced it to its knees and put a couple of bullets in the back of its head. ABC promises that the show is merely "on hiatus" and will return "later in the season," but we all know that network promises are coprophagous at best.

"The Nine" was a show that, despite a fine cast and critical admiration, apparently put off a lot of viewers because it just looked like hard work and, as it followed the show requiring the most heavy lifting in network primetime (that would be "Lost"), too many viewers for ABC's tastes opted to reserve some of their brain cells for other activities. And when "Day Break" - which is quickly pulling off a spectacular tank job - took over "Lost's" time slot, there soon became no audience for "The Nine" to lose.

Actually, "The Nine" never quite felt right as an ongoing series; it would've been much better as a limited or miniseries. Dragging out secrets - particularly those all the characters already know - can be vexing for viewers; knowing the whole story's going to be wrapped up in eight hours ameliorates having to wait. Besides, once all the major particulars of the hostage tragedy were revealed, what were they going to do next season? Reveal that one of them had smuggled some beef jerky into the bank but wouldn't share with the others? Have the nine decide to join forces as a crack crime-fighting unit?

So the freshly scrubbed and hopeful series of September are stacking up like cordwood quickly and earlier than ever. A lot of the cooling bodies belong to serialized shows, and the networks are at least trying at times to give those shows' shrinking number of fans some sense of closure. You can find out how NBC's "Kidnapped" and Fox's "Vanished" - similar shows with their networks' trademark styles (NBC: polished, big stars; Fox: hyperbolic, conspiracy-tinged) and suffered similar fates - would've played out online; CBS has posted "Smith's" intended story arc before its cancellation online.

Regrettably - oh, who am I kidding? - thankfully, NBC has not offered the same service for "20 Good Years," and The CW realizes no one cares enough about whatever was going to happen on "Runaway." Fox is too busy trying to figure out how to keep "Standoff" and "'Til Death" on life-support - Bill Frist said that based on video he's seen, those shows are alive and healthy, but everyone knows his record on that sort of thing - to worry with the fates of its cancelled shows "Justice" and "Happy Hour." ABC is pretending that "Six Degrees," also "on hiatus," will return, so that when the trigger is finally pulled, people will have forgotten about it and won't care what was going to happen.

And while NBC and ABC have been awfully sympathetic to its ailing shows - ABC's full-season pickup of "What About Brian" is the biggest head-scratcher so far, though NBC may come to regret ordering the back nine for "Friday Night Lights" and "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" (which had its lowest numbers of the season on Monday, even though its lead-in "Heroes" had its highest) - the season's carnage is far from over.

Your Mayor took time off from the whole familial gratitude thing yesterday to bore himself silly by attending a screening of “Casino Royale.� The film apparently runs four and a half hours, with spectacular amounts of time lavished on scenes of James Bond playing poker with eight extravagantly ignored extras and some guy who you can tell is evil because he comes equipped with his own Catholic Church Miracle: He can weep blood.

Let’s just say this: Poker is only interesting if it’s actually being played and not scripted, and even then, it no doubt helps increase one’s level of interest in the game if one is participating, with one’s own money on the line.

While it’s refreshing that all involved opted for a more mature James Bond over the cartoonish idiocy of late, it might’ve been nice for them to remember that it’s still James Bond; it’s not like they’re making “Babel� or something. Daniel Craig’s Bond is, as reported, a more compelling character than has been seen in the series in a while, but the film’s lumbering, brooding pacing begins to weary after a surprisingly short time in the theater. And with that:

SPOILER ALERT: Possibly important/possibly dumb plot points revealed ahead

Worst theme song ever. Next time, try a melody on for size, guys. Stupid title sequence in general with the use of playing-card imagery – OK, so you’re striving to avoid the hackneyed babes-in-silhouette sequence, but this is scarcely an improvement. Look, if you’re trying to revolutionize Bond and you have a crappy title sequence and an even crappier song, why don’t you actually revolutionize Bond and scrap that dinosaur of a title sequence completely and save people four and a half minutes of their lives?

Probably a bad idea to include the film’s two genuinely exciting action set pieces in the first hour. But, one question: Given how much fuel was copiously spilled all over the place at the Miami airport, wouldn’t the guy blowing himself up have ended up destroying the superplane (not to mention Bond and everyone else in the area) anyway? A quick edit doesn’t really buy you out of that.

Again: Poker is not cinematic. Especially not at the elephantine pace used here, where Bond and his nemesis appear to be trying to gaze into one another’s very souls. A staring contest would’ve been just as dramatic.

Jeffrey Wright is a really good actor. Why he agreed to the nothing role of a CIA guy who’s also at the poker table (except for the travel and the no-doubt-sizable per diem) is anyone’s guess. And then he just disappears, when, really, the movie’s action has been placed in his hands. Maybe the worst waste of a talented performer in a movie all year.

So James Bond falls in love with a raccoon?

Like many sequences, the torture scene … goes … on … forever. And not in a not-for-the-squeamish way, in a goes-on-forever way. And by the time the recovery sequence pops up, I’m pretty certain the filmmakers thought they had started work on a completely different movie. Certainly, this one should’ve been over by then.

Venice: What can I say? I have no idea what happened there. Bond shoots at what appears to be a couple of canvas-covered tanks, and so the building he and the bad guys are in sinks into the canal. A) Bond already went with the shooting-pressurized-canisters-to-escape-danger route earlier in the movie, and it’s probably wise to limit such a dubious plot device to one per film and B) Huhhh? The whole building just collapses into the drink? If that was likely, might've the building's owners considered not having those tanks there in the first place? I’m just saying.

Even though Ricky Gervais, living in London, doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving (which has his colleagues Stephen Merchant and Karl Pilkington grousing about this extra work), that didn't prevent him from producing a special Thanksgiving podcast. In it, Professional Idiot Karl questions the value of having a calendar at all, reveals that the outside of his body is longer than its inside and offers even more bizarre anatomical and astronomical insights.

Kyle Doss and Frank McBride, Michael Richards’ hecklers, tell “Access Hollywood� they want – well, something – from him for – um, their pain and suffering. To that end, they’ve secured the services of Gloria Allred.

From the story:

“‘It is not enough to go on television and say ‘I’m sorry,’� Allred said. “We are issuing a challenge to Michael Richards.�

“That challenge would require Richards to meet face-to-face with Doss and McBride in front of a judge. So far, no lawsuit has been filed.

“‘We want the retired judge to make a recommendation on how much Michael Richards should pay to compensate our clients,� added Allred.

“And if Richards refuses?

“‘Then he will have to bear the consequences of whatever comes next,� she said.�

Honestly, I didn’t know you could sue someone simply for being an @$$hole. If she actually wins that argument in court and sets a new legal precedent, Allred herself could wind up the target of a few lawsuits.

As indefensible as Richards' behavior is, it seems that a court of law is the one place where it is defensible. He didn't actually lay a hand on the guys, and there is this thing called the First Amendment which protects even the most appallingly stupid speech.

But this begs the question: I saw Carrot Top perform once; can I sue him for my pain and suffering?

Besides, isn't helping utterly quash a career satisfaction enough?

Plus, you’ll be relieved to hear that Richards is an equal-opportunity hater: He has launched anti-Semitic tirades onstage, but on those occasions no one had a cell phone with a camera.

Lists, like facts, are pernicious things. And the entertainment industry's endless fascination with itself has prompted the creation of scads of pointless lists in recent years, many of them the product of too-idle minds at the AFI and Entertainment Weekly.

TV Land got into the act today, issuing "The 100 Greatest TV Quotes and Catchphrases." One of the disappointing things about this list - aside, of course, from its very existence - is that it really scans like the people sitting around in a room cooking this thing up just wrote down everything from their brainstorming session and, once they hit 100, called it a day. There're some really lazy choices here, as well as some that came from the world of news and political speeches that just happened to be televised.

So if JFK's "Ask not what your country can do for you..." or Bush I's "Read my lips: No new taxes!" or "Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy," Lloyd Bentsen's evisceration of Dan Quayle, made the list, then just about everything on TV news should be up for grabs. "If it doesn't fit, you must acquit" comes to mind, for example, though it didn't occur to TV Land's brain trust. And "If it doesn't fit" actually did play out as a catchphrase, whereas those other comments just happened to get plucked out of larger contexts.

Also, it's extraordinarily odd to find "Ask not what your country can do for you..." in a list that also includes (and in fact is dominated by) predominantly subliterate grunts and meaningless phrases, such as "Aaay!" (Fonzie, Happy Days), "Bam!" (Emeril), "De plane! De plane!" (Fantasy Island), "Denny Crane" (Boston Legal), "Heh heh..." (Beavis & Butthead), "Holy crap!" (Everybody Loves Raymond), "How you doin'?" (Friends - and, well, just about every other TV show in existence), "Oh, my nose!" (Marcia Brady, The Brady Bunch - neither a catchphrase nor a memorable quote, just a line from an episode), "That's hot" (Paris Hilton), "Yabba dabba do!" (The Flintstones), "Yada, yada, yada" (Seinfeld) and "Whassup?" (yes, a beer commercial has been deemed to have contributed one of television's touchstone moments). And kudos to TV Land for the sheer audacity of putting "Hey, hey, hey!" on the list twice (Fat Albert and What's Happening!!).

Inserting JFK's line amidst that gibberish seems like the most elaborate version of that old "Sesame Street" game "One of these things just doesn't belong here" ever.

Just imagine all the TV writers who worked so tirelessly to construct solid, epigrammatic dialogue who will look at this list and see their efforts ignored in favor of "Tastes great! Less filling!"

The entire list comes after the jump. Your mission: Point out the absolutely most stupid entries (that'll keep you plenty busy), as well as to come up with some glaring omissions. I'll get you started on the latter: "I am not a number, I am a free man!" from "The Prisoner."

In a way, Robert Altman was a smidgen of a precursor to Borat. In "Nashville," still perhaps his greatest sweeping panorama of American dreams and their political nemeses, his fly-on-the-wall approach to filmmaking allowed city residents to interact with the actors playing the film's 24 main characters while the cameras rolled; afterwards, some professed to be displeased with the way Altman had depicted their city (Altman didn't become the victim of an avalanche of lawsuits, however). He pulled a similar stunt on Paris's fashion world in "Ready to Wear" far less successfully. And, of course, much of Hollywood was complicit in his evisceration of the film industry, "The Player."

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences doesn't get a whole lot right, but at least their timing for Altman's Lifetime Achievement Award - he received it, gratefully, this past March - was astute. For most of his career, he was a pugnacious guy, railing against the system; only in the past decade did he soften. Accepting his Oscar, Altman declared, "I'm very fortunate in my career. I've never had to direct a film I didn't choose or develop." (Really? He wanted to do "O.C. and Stiggs?")

But Altman was much more than his sprawling, satirical multi-character visions of America. He also was pretty swell at subverting genre movies, as well. It's difficult to understand just how surprising and revelatory, even shocking, "M*A*S*H," "McCabe & Mrs. Miller" and "The Long Goodbye" were when they came out, offering brand-new takes on the war film, the Western and the detective flick. His recent "Gosford Park" wasn't nearly as revolutionary, but it offered a neat twist on the typical murder mystery.

We could also go into the camera work, his love of actors and a host of other attributes that made him unique as a director; instead, we'll direct you to a couple of obits that spare us the trouble.

"Nashville" was the film that seized me and probably led me to what I do for a living. So I don't know whether to thank Mr. Altman, or curse him, but he was that influential nonetheless.

If Michael Richards’ intent, on appearing Monday night on “Late Show with David Letterman,� was to assure a nation that he was a normal guy who simply had a bad night when he went off this past weekend at the Laugh Factory, that didn’t quite work. If, in fact, he was trying to get viewers to believe that he was, in fact, nuts (and therefore his racist diatribe became somewhat understandable), then just maybe he succeeded.

Letterman’s guest was Jerry Seinfeld, who, quite beneficently, prodded Richards into issuing his mea culpa on Monday night. Richards, a jittery, twitchy guy under the best of circumstances, appeared via satellite from Los Angeles, initially conceding, with obvious nerves showing, “I’m not doing too good.�

“I lost my temper onstage. … I got heckled and I took it badly and went into a rage,� Richards conceded. Twice in the interview, Richards employed the term “Afro-Americans,� a phrase not heard in polite circles since the ’70s.

Richards’ eternally quixotic behavior inspired some laughter in the “Late Night� audience, prompting Seinfeld at one point to implore, “Stop laughing; it’s not funny.� Richards himself at one point said, “I’m hearing your audience laughing … I’m not sure this is where I should be addressing this.

“For this to happen, for me to be in a comedy club and to say this crap, I’m deeply, deeply sorry. I’ll get to this force field of this hostility. … The rage went all over the place – it went all over the room. I’m not a racist – that’s what’s so insane about this. … I tried to jujitsu this – it didn’t work out. You talk about a bad night,� Richards, clearly uncomfortable, declared.

Letterman asked: “Is there more you’d like to do?� Meaning, in terms of apologizing or searching his soul. Richards paused, then stammered, “I’d just like to do more personal work.� Letterman replied, “I hope you don’t have regrets about appearing on this show tonight,� and Richards just waved the cameras off, not wanting to bury himself any further.

After the West-Coast feed shut down, Seinfeld tried for a joke: “This’ll be a breeze to segue back into comedy.�

As for Richards’ blowing up at his crowd for chattering over – and, eventually, heckling – his set: Honestly, if every performer I’ve ever seen in a live show started spewing racist cant at their apparently unappreciative audience, his/her audience for chattering over their sets, every opening act in every live-music bar in the country would be starting race riots on a daily basis. And if a comic can hear people talking, that means not nearly enough audience members are laughing, and if that’s the case, it’s because the comic is not funny.

Perhaps Richards’ outburst was just misguided viral marketing for the DVD release of “Seinfeld’s� seventh season. (Certainly, Richards would be the perfect person to play his doppelganger in the inevitable “Law & Order� episode that’ll spring from this – like Chevy Chase channeling Mel Gibson, he’s just washed-up enough.)

Nonetheless, once again, the country, as it does from time to time, is cast into paroxysms of hand-wringing over the matter of race. Richards’ unfathomable tirade at the Laugh Factory followed the unwarranted tasering of a UCLA student from Iran; those incidents were bookended by the beginning and conclusion of the latest chapter in the sordid saga of O.J. Simpson, who inspired, excepting Hurricane Katrina, the last probing debate on racism in America.

It’s good to see that we’re actually learning something from all the debate. Like the weather, racism inspires a lot of talk, but no one seems to do anything about it.

Let’s accept two truisms:

* There will always be ignorant and under-educated people.

* Therefore, there will always be prejudice and resentment towards others perceived as different.

So, it's simple: Make people smarter.

Fox, in a rare lapse of decency and common sense, announced today that it has scrapped “If I Did It,� O.J. Simpson’s book and TV interview on how he might have gone about murdering his ex-wife Nicole and Ron Goldman - that is, if perchance he had means, motive and a violent enough temper.

"I and senior management agree with the American public that this was an ill-considered project," read a statement attributed to Rupert Murdoch, News Corp. chairman, six days after News Corp. proudly announced its grand, quease-inducing coup.

All well and good - chalk up a rare if somewhat belated win for ethical behavior - but now that means that O.J. both got whatever money he did and has been spared the public humiliation: Win/win for him, it'd seem. And viewers salivating to hear all the salacious details (but, really, when you think about it, how many could there have been? Apparently the murder took up but one chapter in the book, and you'd be a fool to think that a two-hour TV interview wouldn't be stuffed with tedious padding) will have to wipe off their chins and wait until snippets get leaked to YouTube.

Oh, well, at least we still have Judith Regan's grandiosely self-serving statement - "I made the decision to publish this book, and to sit face to face with the killer, because I wanted him, and the men who broke my heart and your hearts, to tell the truth, to confess their sins, to do penance and to amend their lives. Amen." - to kick around.

Maybe the religious fundamentalists are right: Perhaps we are living in the End Times:

* Not even O.J. Simpson’s attorney thinks his client’s upcoming book and lurid, what-if-through-the-looking-glass-oh-who-are-we-kidding-we-all-know-the-deal-here interview with Judith Regan is a good idea. Yale Galanter told Newsweek, “I definitely would not have approved this,� and calls O.J.’s cut – well, at least O.J.’s cut – “blood money.�

The article also says: “But a Simpson family friend, who like many close to O.J. did not want to be named for fear of alienating him—says that money wasn't his only motivation. ‘He's long past caring at this point,’ the friend says. ‘I think he's saying, “You think I did it anyway, so let me make some money off of what you think.� This is just one big f--- you from him.’� What’s remarkable about this is that someone actually doesn’t want to alienate O.J.

Some affiliates are opting out on the ritual blood-letting, as well. Borders bookstore chain has announced it will donate all profits received from the book to victims of domestic violence.

And Judith Regan, no doubt, is trying to see if she can one-up – or is it one-down? – herself and land a book deal with Osama bin Laden.

* Meanwhile, a week before the Laugh Factory opens its doors to the homeless and indigent for a Thanksgiving meal and a day of altruistic goodwill, Michael Richards – who until this weekend would forever and always be known “Kramer� – launched a fusillade of racist invective at hecklers while performing onstage at the West-Hollywood comedy club.

Jerry Seinfeld didn’t exactly stick up for his co-star: “I am sick over this. I'm sure Michael is also sick over this horrible, horrible mistake. It is so extremely offensive. I feel terrible for all the people who have been hurt.� Here’s guessing Richards won’t be among the comics performing gratis on Thursday.

But think of the ratings gold if Fox had had Richards interview O.J. instead of Regan.

* Whew. After all that debasement, this entry seems kind of classy: Mark Burnett and CBS are looking for bloodthirsty scoundrels with eyepatches, hooks on their hands and parrots on their shoulders to appear in Burnett’s latest reality extravaganza, “Pirates,� or, “Survivor on a Boat:�

“‘Pirates’ will enlist 16 contestants to set sail on the high seas and embark on expeditions that will take them through dense jungles, down precipitous voids, and across troubled rivers in search for hidden treasure. The series will span 14 episodes and conclude with the discovery of the final treasure from a prize pool worth one million dollars. Filming is set to begin in March 2007 and will continue for up to 40 days.�

If no cannibalism is involved, it’ll just be further proof that “reality� TV really isn’t real. Meanwhile, these are the sort of pirates that should be getting a TV show.

* Press Release of the Day comes from Versus, a testosterone-themed cable channel Your Mayor had not even heard of until now. Anyhow, it’s touting former football great Larry Csonka hosting “a monthlong celebration� entitled “Hunting for the Holidays:� “From Stalking Stuffers to Camo in the Kitchen.�

“Do duck and deer calls ignite more of the holiday spirit than carolers at your door?� the release asks. (Honestly, does it have to be either-or?) Because after all, nothing pays greater homage to the Prince of Peace than shooting animals.

(Fun fact: Your Mayor, benificent soul that he is, was helping out at one of the Laugh Factory's holiday meals a few years ago. Jennifer Aniston came in, took the position adjacent to mine (cranberries or mashed potatoes? no idea; as I said, this was quite a few years back), ladled out foodstuffs for as long as the TV cameras were there - say, six, seven minutes tops - and then disappeared.)

Finally: No cheerleaders were saved – or, for that matter, harmed – in the creation of this blog entry.

“Heroes� has become, somewhat surprisingly, not only NBC’s savior this abysmal season for the network, but the year’s biggest new hit and the show that justified the networks’ reliance upon heavily serialized programs. If you miss an episode or two (as I have), you feel as if you’ve missed all sorts of character (and plot) nuance, and therefore, you’re chagrined, and vow to behave better in the future.

Tonight, “Heroes� resolves – for the time being, at least – its “Save the Cheerleader, Save the World� storyline. So it seems like a good opportunity to examine the season’s biggest phenomenon.

As previously discussed, when I first saw the pilot, I was admittedly underwhelmed. The narration was risibly pretentious. (Tonight’s begins with the stentorian abrogations, “We are, if anything, creatures of habit drawn to the comfort and safety of the familiar. But what happens when the familiar becomes unsafe?� – which seems to have little if anything to do with what has been going on or which ensues; it’s just blather to fill in some visual scenes that seem to advance the story quite efficiently without such bloviating.)

Moreover, it seemed that the female heroes were insulting stereotypes: a cheerleader and stripper? Really? Weren’t any librarians or university presidents available?

At this point, the narration is still dopey and still kind of feels unnecessary and out of sync with the rest of the show, but there’s not so much of it anymore. So perhaps your Mayor - and other critics - have effected some social good.

The show’s true heroes, who have truly rescued it from geeky, fan-boy initial impulses and have propelled it into the mainstream, have been its unpredictable storylines and its occasioinally uncanny characterizations and star turns. Masi Oka, playing Hiro, the Japanese office drone who just happens to be able to break the time-space continuum, is clearly the show’s breakout character – it no doubt helps that his character is the one who genuinely delights in his powers, so the show’s pretty fun any time he’s onscreen. But other actors have stepped up: Adrian Pasdar, who was great in an old, underappreciated show called “Profit,� has begun to channel that character’s droll jerkiness to nice effect. Jack Coleman, as the cheerleader’s father and the bagman for the evil conspiracy whatever it may be, also has a wry menace and I’m not sure any actor has made such good use of bad eyeglasses.

Meanwhile, the writers are still adding heroes, still adding storylines. They might be approaching the tipping point between weaving a textured, elaborate storyline and one threatening to collapse in confusion, but I’m not betting against them at this point.

Unlike “Lost,� whose writers apparently spend more time thinking up how not to have anything happen when cooking up future narratives, “Heroes�’ braintrust has thusfar been able to keep its momentum going. Creator Tim Kring has been able to weave his storylines pretty inventively, and bring the characters scattered around the world together cleverly – it’s like ABC’s “Six Degrees,� only with actually cool things happening. And while “Lost� has succeeded in alienating more than 5 million fans so far this season, “Heroes� numbers continue to inch upwards.

Tonight on “Heroes,� Peter, the politician’s younger brother (who really should invest in a comb), heads down to Texas, having been directly involved in the edict, Save the Cheerleader, Save the World, as good a tagline as you’re likely to hear this year (an Oscar frontrunner, however, might be loathe to employ it). This, despite knowing that if the artist who paints the future is correct, saving the cheerleader could kill him. Meanwhile, said cheerleader is preparing for homecoming, while her father, realizing she’s in danger, does what he can to help her, to little avail, of course.

Other subplots proceed apace, as well, including Hiro’s efforts to save the life of a waitress at a Texas diner who falls afoul of the global conspiracy to remove brains from sundry skullcaps.

It’s a pretty exciting episode, though not without some glaring narrative glitches – wouldn’t the cheerleaders be on the field during the football game and not in the locker room where a psychotic killer might be lurking? And the high school’s architecture seems more avant-garde – or is it just confusing? - than your average small-town Texas building. (Honestly: if anyone can figure out this building's blueprint - even Kring and his writers - and are so kind to send it to me, I will share these seemingly Moebius-Strip explications with my constituency.) And, most pressingly: Don’t the cheerleaders at that high school have any other clothes besides their cheerleading outfits?

That’s sort of the problem with serialized shows in which you have to wait a week between episodes – you have a week in which to pick their particular logics apart. But that's the great thing about a "Heroes:" You want to.

-- "Heroes," 9 p.m. (8 p.m. Central time) on NBC (Channel 4 in L.A.)

The fact that the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show would be taped in Los Angeles for the first time was a big deal, because local TV-news directors generally have a hard time justifying featuring semi-nude women in their newscasts (they have a hard time justifying it; I’m not saying they don't find reasons for doing it anyway). But this event provided them a positive boon of angles, not the least of which was this press release:

VICTORIA’S SECRET MODELS WILL ARRIVE ON PRIVATE JET FROM NEW YORK AT BURBANK’S BOB HOPE AIRPORT

Featuring this tantalizing detail:

“The jet will be stocked with custom pillows and blankets as well as a luxurious travel kit from Victoria’s Secret Beauty that will include a Supermodel Spotlight Lip Gloss, Sexy Little Mints, and a Sexy Little Things Wake Me With a Kiss Sleep Mask.�

Your Mayor does not go to airports unless he’s actually traveling or his bomb-sniffing dog Horace is recruited by the Department of Homeland Security. So I missed the tarmac event, though I was entreated to participate in Thursday’s backstage “hair and makeup� session involving the models at Hollywood’s appropriately named Renaissance Hotel. Amongst the models’ names participating: Oluchi, Doutzen, Jeisa, Flavia, Selita, Ajuma, Agronomy and Calumny. From their names alone, one can tell that these women were clearly no American Apparel trollops; a visual inspection confirmed this: They had all clearly been recently washed.

Turns out it was a busy day for the Renaissance. On the left side of the hall of the hotel’s mezzanine, there was a ballroom in which a bunch of Victoria’s Secret models were having their hair and makeup done while prancing about in silk fuchsia robes. On the right side of the hall, conventioneers assembled from the National Association of Episcopal Schools.

So while Victoria’s Secret’s minions were selling their talking points – that their new products were touting “a ‘sexy baby doll’ vibe – sweet with a hint of naughty, characterized by pink and purple makeup shades and voluptuous, flowing hair,� clothing that was “very sexy yet wearable … for this season’s many holiday parties� and bore “sexy, provocative shade names (like Yes! Wet and Sultry)� the Episcopalians across the way could only sell their religious textbooks without use of the word "sexy," on the basis of a tagline both sturdy and poetic: “Wisdom’s Branches are Glorious and Graceful.�

On Thursday morning, I wandered, ill-advisedly, into a backstage makeup-and-hair event, essentially a cattle-call for lechery created mainly for photographers and TV lite-news cameras, and decidedly not for print journalists. TV reporters asked such probing questions as how the models prepared to walk up and down a catwalk while the women were being primped to within an inch of their lives; every millimeter of their faces were being spackled, every errant eyebrow hair was being tweezed, every tattooed ankle was being lovingly massaged. (One read a volume of Voltaire, but one suspects she did so only to elicit the attention of photographers.)

Since security was tight – everyone in sight had to bear a computer-coded ID card and just before the taping, bomb- or something-sniffing dogs rooted through the backpacks of camera crews; Hollywood and Highland was the second-most secure place in America on Thursday after the White House (if women couldn’t parade about semi-nude, then the terrorists had won). Soon, I was grateful merely that I wasn’t being treated like a UCLA student without his ID.

Posters in the ballroom touting the industry’s new product boasted the following words: “Pleasure me … Wet … Tease … Slow Burn .. Don’t Stop … G … Tempt … Minx … Between the Sheets … Frisky Urgency …� and so on.

Before the “Victoria’s Secret� show began at the Kodak Theatre, Pamela Anderson – whose breasts are the equivalent of all the Victoria’s Secret models put together – appeared at the Virgin Megastore next door touting “Baywatch� DVDs while store employees grimly bullied tourists with cell phone cameras. If she was trying to steal the fashion show’s fire, she failed.

At the Kodak, a 50-foot-tall light bank spells out the word “SEXY.� The word “SEXY� appears on event tickets no fewer than 70 times. Light bulbs also united to form, as if something in their DNA had made their behavior ancient and manifest, the words “VERY SEXY,� and the mirrors into which the models gazed included the legend “VERY SEXY MAKEUP.� At a certain point, one almost feels they’re protesting too much.

The Thursday-night taping (attended, inevitably, by Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie) opened with a performance by Justin Timberlake, whose tireless, selfless and unrelenting efforts in “bringing sexy back� has put him in the frontrunner status for next year’s Nobel Peace Prize. (Though “Access Hollywood� might argue, “‘Sexy’s never been gone,� their factual sourcing will be found to be direly wanting.)

So: The fashion show proceeds. Large, swooping wings with all manner of feathers and finery are a curious part of many of the outfits on display (one set looks like the model has a Christmas tree strapped to her back), but if the models find this as silly as I do, they don’t let on. The models have a most assertive way of striding on the catwalk, kicking their legs out and smacking their stilettos on the runway like they’re stomping on cockroaches.

One model is clad in a “Chrome-plated metal waste cincher with bolt detail� and “matching panty.� And she’s wearing something around her shoulders that looks like an inflatable kids’ swimming pool. And this outfit is not part of the collection decreed “Coquettish Fetish.�

Other wares featured: “Chrome-plated Very Sexy embroidered push-up without padding balconet with Swarovski Crystal embellishment� (basically, it looked like the model was wearing mirrors on her abs). “Angels Secret Embrace push-up with Chantal Thomass playing card cushion appliqué� (several pieces featured hearts/spades/diamonds/clubs, which, really, only a Gamblers Anonymous habitué would find “sexy�). “Angel Air flotation shrug� (honest – one woman had a yellow flotation device provided by jetliners in the event of a crash, only here transformed into a piece of wardrobe; as Laurie Anderson once said, “We are all going down�). “Grograin and tulle popcorn bustier with popcorn and Swarovski Crystal detail,� “Gingham taffeta Homecoming Queen ‘gown’� and “Graduation cap and gown� (these were from the collection simply and no doubt innocently named “Pink;� which mainly included outfits that would appeal only to those most likely to turn up on an episode of NBC’s “Dateline’s� “To Catch a Predator�).

As if in atonement, a choir performs for the presentation of the final collection, “Glacial Goddess,� which finds one model bedecked in an “Intimissimi mesh demi with rhinestone embellishment, Matching panty, Ostrich, marabou and mylar star cape� and “Manik Mercian body pieces.� As confetti snow descends upon the audience, the choir insists that one day “We’ll live in harmony� but then, per Mr. Timberlake, implores us to “Put your sexy on� before the models stomp offstage one last time and into the night.

Sundry desultory items, now that Richard Powers is off partying with the supermodels at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show at the Kodak (when I gave him the afternoon off, it was merely intended as a nice gesture! I didn't expect him to actually take me up on it!):

* That whole O.J. TV interview/book thing seems to be working out well for Fox and Regan Books: Esta Soler, President, Family Violence Prevention Fund, issued a statement reading in part:

"Two families suffered an unimaginable loss 12 years ago, and two children lost their mother. Now those children will see their father discuss or recreate the crime for entertainment and profit. It is beneath contempt.

"We urge Fox to reconsider its decision to air this program. Affiliates should refuse to carry it, if the network proceeds with its plans. Advertisers should refuse to support it. Viewers should refuse to watch. And no responsible person should purchase the book on which it is based."

Seems to me Ms. Soler should've attempted to appeal to all irresponsible persons, as well. Under the circumstances, I'll wager she could've sealed the deal with a few of them.

At least one small bookstore has learned how to say “No.�

Here’s an idea: Just direct your energies to the only people whose viewing peccadilloes matter. Attention all Nielsen families: If you feel that you absolutely must watch the O.J. interview, go to a neighbor’s house, and leave your TV on tuned to another station.

Bill O’Reilly, shockingly enough, is up in arms over his sister network’s behavior, though, as usual, he got a little fact wrong.

* But O’Reilly probably just has other things on his mind: That sexual-harassment suit he made go away a few years back has re-emerged: as an opera. Since Mr. Powers is gone for the day, I invite you to add your own jokes here.

* Apparently, appearing on a TV series this season serves as some sort of fertility drug. We've already discussed Marcia Cross and Amanda Peet, and now, "My Name Is Earl's" Jaime Pressly announced she's having a son. It won't be too much of a stretch to imagine Pressly's Joy getting knocked up on the show.

* Emmitt Smith always helped ABC when he appeared with the Dallas Cowboys on "Monday Night Football," but he never delivered the sort of numbers he managed on last night's finale of "Dancing with the Stars:" 27.2 million watch Emmitt thump that little weasel.

Meanwhile, "Day Break," ABC's placeholder for "Lost" while that show tries to figure out how to boost sagging ratings by adding some sexy housewives or randy doctors, looks to be broken. It lost about half of its lead-in right off the bat, with a hair under 14 million watching at 9 p.m. By 10:30 p.m., another 5 and a half million had bailed. It did slightly better than "Medium's" return on NBC: 9.4 million viewers, but its lead-in was the exercise-and-angst reality show "The Biggest Loser."

And different numbers of other people watched other shows last night, as well. Richard! Come back! I'm no good at this!

Richard Powers, Your Mayor's favorite author and principal speechwriter, won the National Book Award for his latest novel, "The Echo Maker." Like just about all of Powers' books, it's a heady examination of both science and the heart, this time exploring the nature of memory - after a horrific truck accident near the Platte River, where thousands upon thousands of cranes have been conditioned to land semiannually in their migrations, a young man suffers brain damage and no longer believes his sister to be his sister - and, as always, filled with glorious prose.

I'm about half-way through the book, so we'll likely revisit it here after I'm done. In the meantime: Congratulations, Richard. Take the rest of the day off. I'll write my own blog entries today.

Once again, NBC valiantly attempts to resurrect its Must-See Thursday-night comedy bloc, with "supersized" episodes tonight of its best – hell, who are we kidding? its only – sitcoms (“20 Good Years� having been dispatched to the happy hunting grounds known as “hiatus;� “Scrubs� rejoins the network next week).

The big news, of course, is that Jim and Pam, those wacky, unrequited lovers, reunite tonight on “The Office.� When his new branch is shut down and he’s sent back to Scranton, Pam is elated; less so when she discovers he’s since met someone else, a co-worker also dispatched to Scranton. OK, kudos, “Office� workers: You’ve figured out yet another way to temporarily keep Jim and Pam apart and frustrate your fans.

You know, whoever figures out how to make an ongoing happy, functional romantic relationship genuinely funny – rather than the final act of a movie or TV series – probably deserves not just an Emmy but a Nobel Peace Prize.

The episode itself is given over to Michael’s trademark inept efforts to merge his charges with his new employees (“People hate people who are different from them – it’s only natural,� Michael philosophizes with his typical logic), and the efforts of Andy (“The Daily Show’s� Ed Helms), an unctuous new employee, to seize power. Rainn Wilson’s Dwight – who might just be an improvement on his British counterpart Gareth in Ricky Gervais’s otherwise unbeatable original version – doesn’t have terribly much to do here aside from feel threatened by Andy, but he does have a priceless, very-Gareth-like moment in which he compares firing newcomers to Japanese guards in World War II camps choosing which new prisoner to kill: “I would’ve been good at choosing the person,� he says, that smile-not-wanting-to-be-a-smile curling on his lips.

The evening kicks off, of course, with “My Name is Earl,� which occasionally (tonight included) has trouble differentiating between inspired absurdity and just plain silly, between gentle philosophical nudges and vague preachiness. Still: decent laughs.

Tonight, Earl decides to make amends with a former stoner (Christian Slater, the celebrity guest-star du jour), whom he robbed blind (in a funny sequence) while exploiting his blinkered state. When Earl tries to make amends, he discovers his foil has become part of an eco-friendly commune, which prods Earl to become a smoggy-minded environmental champion, an Al Gore with a Powerless-(equally)-Pointless presentation. Call it “An Inept Truth.�

Tonight’s gimmick is that Randy, after consuming a salve of “herbs and roots,� begins hallucinating that everyone around him are Claymation figures. It’s not a particularly funny conceit, until Randy comes into contact with Earl’s ex Joy, whereupon he fixates upon her undulating Claymation boobs. Which is probably the most fun Claymation animators have ever had.

Lastly, there’s “30 Rock,� which hasn’t had much success in a fairly benign timeslot – 8 p.m. Wednesdays – so who wants to take odds on it surviving opposite “Grey’s Anatomy� and “CSI?� Too bad: It’s a funny show, thanks to Alec Baldwin’s crankily comic turn as a boldly fatuous NBC executive. (NBC once aired a sitcom, “Good Morning Miami,� based vaguely on network overlord Jeff Zucker’s biography; Baldwin’s character appears even more Zuckerlike, though no one involved would ever admit it.)

Tonight’s episode offers a thoroughgoing goof on product placement. Baldwin’s Jack issues an initiative suggesting all NBC series incorporate GE (NBC’s corporate owner) products; “30 Rock,� instead, mockingly and extravagantly touts Snapple.

Liz (Tina Fey) writes a sketch for Jack to star in, despite his thespian ineptitude. (Ineptitude: the cornerstone of TV sitcom conceits; again – huge props to someone who can find a way to make competence riotously funny.) Still, Jack insists he’s up to the challenge, given the horrors he has survived in the past: “I’ve summitted Kilimanjaro,� he declares; “I’ve showered with Greta Van Susteren!� Jack’s a better (or worse - who can tell the difference these days?) man than I.

“My Name is Earl:� 8 tonight on NBC (Channel 4 locally).
-- “The Office:� 8:40 tonight on NBC.
-- “30 Rock:� 9:20 tonight on NBC.

The straight take on Fox's announcement that it will air a two-hour interview with O.J. Simpson on how he might have gone about murdering his ex-wife, had such a thought occurred to him, just before a publishing imprimatur also owned by Fox releases a book authored by O.J. on the same subject.

The witheringly funny take on same (subscription required, but worth it; sample line: The book "hits bookstores Nov. 30 -- just in time for the holiday gift-buying season, ho, ho, ho. Who wouldn't love to find a copy of O.J.'s sordid sort-of hypothetical confession in his Christmas stocking on the morning of the day in which we celebrate the birth of baby Jesus?").

An appropriately outraged take on same.

Question: $3.5 million? Really? O.J. can still pull that kind of dough? Judith Regan got hosed: I could've talked him down to $1.75 million, easy. And anyway, shouldn't that money go directly to the victims' families? After all, he hasn't coughed up much of the $33.5 million they were to receive from a civil suit.

Little-known fact: Your Mayor attempted to shop that very book, also entitled "If I Did It," but unfortunately there was no interest. Why? Because I didn't do it. Even the no-doubt-incredibly-ethical Ms. Regan and O.J. himself must concede that no one cares how someone who didn't commit a crime might have gone about it.

Question: When O.J. fills out his tax form next year, how will he describe his mode of employment? First Amendment Champion or Merchant of Death?

Question: When, in another decade or so, O.J. decides he needs a little more cash and a little more attention, will he simply re-release the book with all the hypotheticals removed?

Question that answers itself: Do you think Fox will send out screeners for review of the interview?

Another question that answers itself: So what does that say about what Fox thinks of its own actions?

Question: Who's going to run their commercials during the interview? Who'd patronize someone who ran their commercials during the interview?

Herewith, your assignment: Think of something more appalling, something that left more incredulous jaws on more floors, in the annals of Television. And no, "Date My Mom" doesn't cut it.

In this solemn hour it is a consolation to recall and to dwell upon our repeated efforts to remove reality and game shows from Television. Many have been ill-starred, but all have been faithful and sincere. This is of the highest moral value--and not only moral value, but practical value--at the present time, because the wholehearted concurrence of scores of millions of men and women, whose co-operation is indispensable and whose comradeship and brotherhood are indispensable, is the only foundation upon which turning on a television some evenings can be endured.

This moral conviction alone affords that ever-fresh resilience which renews the strength and energy of people in long, doubtful and dark days in which the 8 p.m. hour may be purged of scripted programming or, at most, include "According to Jim." Outside, the storms created by gustatory network executives may blow and the lands may be lashed with the fury of William Shatner's unbridled witlessness and appalling need to dance in public, but in our own hearts there is peace. Our hands may be active, but our consciences are at rest.

And so we must not be timid in declaring a victory, of sorts, last night. ABC mounted its most cruel and craven attack on the hearts and the minds of the people of Television, "Show Me the Money," featuring a boogying Shatner, lobotomized contestants and writhing harpies like the Sirens who tried to lure Odysseus or the Argonauts. And like Homer's sailors, America plugged wax in its ears and avoided the siren song of stupidity.

Right off the bat, "Show Me the Money" dropped 13 million viewers from its hefty "Dancing with the Stars" lead-in. Still, at 9:30 it boasted a not inconsiderable 15.7 million viewers. By 10 p.m., more than three million viewers had had enough; by 10:30, attrition had eroded to a number of more than 6 million defectors. In short, Shatner had bored, appalled and otherwise alienated a full third of an audience spoon-fed him by "Dancing with the Stars," a not-terribly-demanding audience to begin with.

Oh, and "3 LBS" underwhelmed in its premiere, registering what can only be described as "Smith" numbers. And the plug was pulled on "Smith," of course, after three episodes. And the promise that "Friday Night Lights" would shine all season didn't stir any further viewer interest: a piddling 5.5 million watched the homecoming episode.

Nonetheless, we are fighting to save the whole world from the pestilence of unscripted and poorly scripted programming and in defense of all that is most sacred to man. This is no battle of domination or imperial aggrandizement or material gain; no effort to shut any viewer out of his favorite shows and means of progress. It is a battle, viewed in its inherent quality, to establish, on impregnable rocks, the rights of the individual not to have his or her intelligence insulted simply because a television is nearby, and it is a clash of civilizations to establish and revive the stature of man, even given the existence of Howie Mandell and Flavor Flav.

It began with soldiers returning to Fort Hood, Texas from tours in Iraq, reuniting with their families in a camp gymnasium, and ended with more Fort Hood soldiers being dispatched for another tour. The first installment of “Dan Rather Reports,� the former veteran CBS News anchor’s new series for Mark Cuban’s HDNet, didn’t endeavor to re-invent the wheel: It’s a newsmagazine of the sort that longtime viewers of “60 Minutes� would recognize, focusing on Iraq war vets from a myriad of angles.

Longtime detractors of Rather’s oft-perceived liberal bias could point to a number of things, including the framing device – ending with more soldiers being shipped out could, at this juncture in the war, be interpreted as employing a negative slant. But given the hour’s overall narrative arc, it made a certain poetic sense.

Much of the hour was devoted to examining soldiers upon their returns rehabbing from their injuries, both physical and psychological, and debating whether the government had set aside the necessary resources to take care of those who put their lives on the line for their country. (There may be up to a $3 billion shortfall in funds for post-war care.)

We met Tammy Duckworth, a resilient woman who lost her legs in Iraq – “I joke that I’m lucky that my husband wasn’t a leg man,� she says – and ran for a seat in Congress in a race that, in Rather’s only Ratherism of the hour, “was tighter than Springsteen’s headband.� (Running on a platform of ensuring soldiers’ needs would be met, she lost in a predominantly Republican district.)

We met a soldier who lost her memory of her entire life – she didn’t remember her husband, nor giving birth, and had forgotten both how to drive and to read. Another soldier came back addled – he thought therapy helping him to walk again took a mere 30 minutes when it took weeks – which likewise cost him his marriage.

We met a man who created a virtual Iraq as therapy to re-acclimate soldiers in their return to America, as well as a soldier who applied for and was denied a Conscientious Objector status and was among the few deserters imprisoned after he placed on his website accounts of his commanding officer ordering soldiers to shoot children.

Much of it was grim – it was war reportage, after all – but not all. Rather came off as empathetic to the veterans he interviewed and genuinely concerned that that the government not cut and run when it came to giving these men and women the care they deserve.

-- "Dan Rather Reports:" 5 p.m. Tuesday; repeating 8 p.m. Tuesday and 4 p.m. Wednesday and Sunday.

NBC's "Heroes" scaled the 15-million viewer plateau for the first time last night. Of course, the higher "Heroes" soars, the steeper the dropoff "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip's" performance appears. "S60" seems to have halted its free-fall and settled in, however - it's lured about 7.8 million viewers the last three times it has been on.

Meanwhile, a repeat of "House" Monday night did better than originals of "Justice," "Deal or No Deal" grabbed nearly 18 million Mensa candidates and "What About Brian" underscored the desperation in ABC's retaining its services for the remainder of the season, garnering a wan 5.6 million viewers, its season low.

“Show Me the Money� is, alas and yet inevitably, another primetime game show for the IQ-impaired. Following “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire,� “Deal or No Deal� and “1 Vs. 100,� this one is even more aggressively aimed at those who prefer their primetime programming pre-chewed and eradicated of all thought, one that lobotomizes its audiences without bothering with an icepick.

It’s probably the first game show requiring a choreographer, proffering the spectacle of young women in revealing attire writhing under the guise of dancing. Oh, they’ll also offer contestants cash awards for getting (pretty dumb) questions correct – and, if said contestants don’t know the answers? Well, they can just ask for another question (which translates into some really strict, sturdy rules inviting a whole lot of intellectual rigor).

William Shatner – William Shatner! Captain Kirk himself – hosts, strutting about in a garish red vest, bringing an air of apocalyptic melodrama to his contestants’ fates and, between questions, boogying unashamedly with those aforementioned women. Shatner miraculously transformed himself from a cult punchline (thanks to his ’60s album “The Transformed Man�) to Official Good Sport (thanks to his recent recording “Has Been,� as well as his numerous recent campy cable performances), but there’s a thin line between being in on the joke and being a joke.

Helpful hint: Do not watch this with any remotely sharp objects within lunging distance of your sofa or comfy chair.

-- “Show me the Money:� 9:30 tonight – they’re actually showing 90 straight minutes of this – before moving to its regular timeslot next week, 8 p.m. Wednesdays, on ABC (Channel 7 locally).

Over the weekend, NBC promos for “Heroes� promised big revelations over the next two weeks. What they didn’t say, of course, were that all those revelations could come in the second week, that this week’s episode would feature lots of narrative wheel-spinning.

This week’s episode didn’t even feature a bunch of the “Heroes� introduced in the pilot – the brother tandom of Peter and Nathan, Peter’s unrequited love Simone and Vegas stripper Niki were all no-shows – while Claire, the cheerleader in dire need of saving, was relegated to a bit part.

Instead, we saw more characters pushed into the foreground, while Mohinder, who kick-started the series, was nearly seduced into abandoning his search for the heroes. Isaac was briefly rescued from yet quickly re-introduced to his addiction to junk, while Matt similarly continued to wrestle with his ability to read minds, to no decisive ends. Hiro, played by series breakout Masi Oka, found his part further expanded, meeting and falling for yet another apparent hero, a charming Texas waitress with a newly acquired photographic memory (though really - not that much of a super-power, because then, even Dennis Miller could join the cast) who is then summarily murdered, forcing him to step back in time to rescue her.

We also discovered – or did we? – that Claire’s dad, the apparently evil guy with eyeglasses that suggest either menace or a profound lack of fashion sense, knows of her impending doom and seemingly wants to rescue her from it.

In all, an episode in which the producers were merely content with keeping all their plates spinning without allowing any to drop. Fair enough: But if next week’s episode fails to reconcile any of these plotlines satisfactorily, they’ll officially have fans p!ssed off on levels approaching “Lost.�

Meanwhile, “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip’s� first episode after receiving a full-season pickup (though shot well before that) sort of continued its cheap shots on middle-America while attempting to depict middle-American values as the savior of this one episode (Nathan Corddry’s cast member got exonerated by John Goodman’s conservative judge thanks to his brother being in the military), while at the same time justifying liberals’ mistrust of the religious right (Sarah Paulson’s born-again Harriet – who, in an early throwaway gag-line, is "ordered" to "confess" that she’s gay – is eschewed by her fan base for not being conservative enough).

The Show Must Go On, and it does, apparently gloriously, though next week’s teaser hints that network executive Jordan will get fired. Palpable reason she won’t: The character hasn’t been in her position long enough to have done anything provably damagingly wrong; even her ex’s tell-all book (has any salacious book about a network executive received any attention? Has one even been published?) seems a non-starter. Palpable reason Jordan might get fired: Amanda Peet is pregnant, which seriously sexes down her character; after all, Bradley Whitford needs someone with which to flirt.

Very nice scene, however, reinstating the chemistry between Paulson and Matthew Perry. Again: If this show doesn’t fly, you’d be an idiot not to try to cook up a show exploiting Perry’s talents in essaying the comic/bittersweet.

Since we all know that Television critics don’t have enough to keep track of, a few networks – mindful that some people, such as Your Mayor, live on remote, heavily guarded compounds on the outer reaches of DSL services which can be unreliable and vexingly glitchy, specializing more in freeze-frames than actual content – have begun sending critics screeners of their online content. Which, oddly enough, said critics can watch on big-screen TVs – so they can see on a glorious 42 inches what everyone else gets to see on 3.

Comedy Central sent out multiple episodes of two new series – which were introduced in the past week or two – entitled “Good God� and “Baxter & McGuire.� The best thing you can say about these new shows is, this is stuff Comedy Central would never be able to show on basic cable. Of course, that’s pretty much the worst thing you can say about them, as well.

Think of “Good God� as “The Office� were that show set in heaven, had its writers come from hell. God’s the universe’s CEO (think a less inept Michael Scott), with his sundry minions, the Archangel Gabriel (sort of a Dwight Schrute), Death (also, more clearly, a Dwight Schrute) and Heidi (essentially Pam, without a Jim).

“Good God� is a series of deadpan three-minute films (a minute of which is given to the intro and end credits). One episode – and this is pretty much all you need to know – has the Creator of the Universe trying to convince Heidi he’s not responsible for the odor “Left Behind� (my joke – they’re not that clever) in the office restroom.

Others are vaguely better – God’s encouraged to create a MySpace account to appeal to a younger demographic; his office brainstorms ways to convince suicide bombers life is worth living (a waterpark is a leading suggestion) – but, despite an occasional laugh, nothing’s fully developed to its comic potential.

Even more dispiriting is “The Adventures of Baxter & McGuire,� a computer-animated series of shorts co-managed by the creator of “The King of Queens� (to be fair, it’s doubtful that anyone’s going to sell a viral video on the strength of it coming from the creator of a hacky, old-school sitcom).

The protagonists are – there is no genteel way of putting this – testicles, Baxter being the one with a cigarette and a porkpie hat. (TBS’s upcoming comedy “My Boys,� on the other hand, is thankfully not about such characters.) Episodes involve them being injured in sporting accidents, being aroused and/or disappointed, etc. (After four episodes, they pretty much have their sundry relevant storylines covered.)

In one segment, Baxter uncorks the epithet: “Son of a beeswax.� As if this one vaguely demure moment sanitizes the entire concept.

Meanwhile, dotcomedy.com, NBC’s website’s original, off-network material has to work cleaner – though not that much cleaner – which means it also has to be cleverer. To that end, it’s co-opted the viral video “The Easter Bunny Hates You� into an ongoing concern, “The Easter Bunny Begins,� which is essentially more of the same – a guy in an Easter Bunny suit beating the crap out of people. Funny idea in a two-minute spurt here and there, though its sustainability is clearly in question.

It also offers “Playback,� which features comic/musicians Stuckey and Murray’s tuneful takes on topical events, such as the recent Mark Foley scandal (sample lyric: "We were instant-message friends regardless of our ages/You said, "I don't like to look at the book, I like to look at the pages"). “Kona & Hilo� offers two cats discussing philosophical and social issues via cell phones. More deadpan stuff, more hit-and-miss humor.

And the “Untitled Comedy News Show� actually allows you the viewer to come up with punchlines for the week’s news headlines – let’s face it, you could hardly do worse than their trial-run episode, and if your contribution is used, they’ll reward you 50 bucks, putting you in Moccachinos for a good week and a half.

CBS’s innertube.com, meanwhile, isn’t terribly interested in Mac users, so I can’t comment on their online-only content. Sorry.

Still, all this begs the question: Networks may be casting their nets wider to find providers of online content, but they're still not trying hard enough. Any suggestions - crass or stupid or earnest or otherwise - for other cheesy little online movies that the big-bucks people would pay you little-bucks for?

Here's why Your Mayor has wisely installed a battery of hazmat-suited interns opening his mail these days:

Chad Conrad Castagana, an unemployed 39-year-old living with his parents in Woodland Hills, appeared in court today accused of sending threatening letters to Democrats and media figures in a white powder.

U.S. Attorneys requested Castagana not be released on bail due to "his mental health state."

Radar.com unearthed some of Castagana's online literature, particularly his appreciation for B-movie starlets, suggesting, "Sounds like Castagana might pioneer the use of blogs as an insanity defense."

Radar dug further, discovering the guy was also a big fan of failed Florida Senate candidate Katherine Harris (if you read his post on a B-movie starlet, you might have an inkling suspicion as to why he was a big Harris supporter), and discovered some previously unreported contents of his letters (warning: language).

The initial AP story on this encouraged readers to divine for themselves the throughline of Castagana's targets which included Nancy Pelosi, Jon Stewart, David Letterman, Keith Olbermann, Charles Schumer, Norman Lear and William Shatner (how'd Chad score an advance viewing copy of Shatner's new game show "Show Me the Money?"). It stated only - and then, in its sixth paragraph (dropping even further in the story linked to above) - that his message was "Death to Demagogues." (Hint: They're all liberals.)

Were, say, Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly or Sean Hannity to receive such vile threats, they'd quite likely force the guy's ideology directly into the lead of news stories: "A hatred-drenched liberal was today arrested for trying to help the terrorists win by silencing the heroic voices of the hard-right." Or some such.

KNX 1070's website contains an even more benign assessment of the letters as "hoaxes."

NBC, having previously announced that it'll sandblast its first hour of primetime of that pesky scripted drama in the 2007-08 season, has opted this season to go out in a blaze of glory: Despite underwhelming ratings for its critically admired dramas "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" and "Friday Night Lights," have picked both up for the remainder of the season. "Studio 60's" back nine were ordered last week, while "Friday Night Lights" was offered more life-support today.

“We’re proud to reward an authentic, poignant series like ‘Friday Night Lights’ with a full-season order, demonstrating our confidence in it’s [sic] appeal and quality,� Entertainment president Kevin Reilly was quoted as saying in a press release issued this afternoon. “Television critics and devoted fans have supported the show with well-deserved praise for the executive producers, writers and exceptionally talented cast.� Though the show's praise was deemed "well-deserved" in the press release, it was also "faint" by network hype standards: The phrase "a handful of" was airbrushed from just before the words "devoted fans" in the quote, as was the rhetorical flourish, "After all, what else can we do at this point?"

So: NBC, apparently with not a lot of other options - there're only so many "Deal or No Deals" and "1 Vs. 100s" they can foist upon the public in any given quarter - makes a last-gasp stand for quality programming. Though the network needs to find someplace, anyplace for "Friday Night Lights" - if you think its ratings are low now, just wait until "American Idol" returns. It will be interesting to see what, if any, this announcement has on viewership of tomorrow's episode of "Friday Night Lights." But if this season unjustly winds up costing Reilly his job, as some forecast, he'll at least be able to leave knowing he took the high road. Let's see how that rewards him when he starts looking for his next job.

What to say about Fox’s fall season that hasn’t already inspired many late-night solitary sessions involving Fox executives cradling straight-razors?

Well, Fox always has its reliable Sunday-night lineup, bolstered by “The Simpsons� and “Family Guy.� And tonight, “Family Guy� returns with one of its typically tautly sculpted, boxes-within-boxes storylines.

Wait: We’re clearly thinking about some other –any other – show on TV. “Family Guy,� its episode is as randomly plotted as ever.

By the way, next time any of you have the occasion to meet “Family Guy� creator Seth MacFarlane, be sure to ask him: Since Brian the Dog not-so-secretly suffers from an unrequited love for Peter’s wife Lois and Stewie is hellbent on killing her, how do they get along so well?

After all, in Brian’s recent book, “Brian Griffin’s Guide to Booze, Broads and the Lost Art of Being a Man,� the hellbent hellhound observes of Stewie, “People are always asking me, ‘Is Stewie gay?’ And my standard answer is, ‘Not yet. But be patient,’� while his assessment of Lois is: “There’s an uncommon air of sensuality in everything she does, from folding the laundry to applying her makeup in a short, clingy robe.�

A most obsessive gaze into the private life of an animated character, and yet, tonight’s episode of “Family Guy� fetishizes Lois even further. After Peter, thoroughgoing moron that he is, blows the fingers off one of his hands playing with fireworks, he forces his wife Lois to do his work for him at the beer factory and becomes obsessed with sexually objectifying his new secretary. More bizarrely: Lois kinda likes it.

Meanwhile, Brian is mortified when Stewie discovers he’s dating a beautiful woman whose voice is provided by Drew Barrymore – no, that’s not the reason he’s filled with umbrage; Brian’s embarrassed because his lover and her friends belong on an alpaca farm, where they might actually be able to keep up with the level of intellectual discourse. As one of her friends notes, “Gloss rhymes with hair!�

Family Guy, 9 p.m. (8 central) on Fox (Channel 11 in L.A.).

"For Your Consideration," the upcoming Christopher Guest movie, offers a comic evisceration of the film industry, much as Guest's "Waiting for Guffman" dismantled local theater in inspired fashion, "Best in Show" parodied the dog-show industry and "A Mighty Wind" mocked folk musicians.

This one has its moments, but isn't up to Guest's and his repertory troupe's usual standards. It's about a small, deadly earnest and apparently awful independent film that somehow manages to get Oscar buzz while it's still in production and then gets compromised in all sorts of ways.

Oddly enough, the movie stuff doesn't have the sort of amusing verisimilitude that the parodies of bad TV behavior do.

Fred Willard and Jane Lynch are hilarious as the brazenly unctuous hosts of an "Entertainment Tonight"-style show, and there's one great scene at a "Charlie Rose"-type show where the interviewer just keeps talking and talking without ever letting his guests get a word in. Yet another funny scene is set at a brain-dead morning news show (the weather woman is a ventriloquist with a monkey puppet, which is only just slightly exaggerated by L.A. TV standards). In the film, the show is called "Wake Up L.A.;" any resemblance to "Good Day L.A." is purely obvious.

"For Your Consideration" cannily essays how phantom, B.S.-infused Oscar campaigns for undeserving movies get started (studios will hype quotes from any idiot with a mouthpiece), but neglects some potential comic gold in exploring what happens once reality sets in and a movie's shortcomings become readily apparent to anyone who's remotely sane. It also misses a good bet in showing how correspondents on "ET"-type shows like to pretend, rather pathetically, that they're great good friends with big-time celebrities. Still, its depiction of TV shills remains persuasive and coherent. How can anyone associated with one of these types of happy-talk TV shows watch this film and remain proud of their (insert insulting adjective here) calling?

As is the case here, the sequel’s never as good. But it’s a nice inducement for TV critics, at newspapers with shrinking news holes, to consider tightening their reviews.

Brothers & Sisters

Natter, whine, natter:
They’re glib; they eat quiche and brie.
Calista likes Rush.

The View

Chatter, drivel and
Rosie’s bluster fill the hour.
At least Star is gone.

According to Jim

He’s stupid, see, and
His wife is sweet and patient.
Comic gold ensues!

Ghost Whisperer

Hey, I just spoke to
Your beloved dead sister…
Why are you running?

Men in Trees

Some concepts are dumb
But this one just takes the cake:
Anne Heche gives advice.

Da Ali G Show

Very few sees it
But all profess love Borat.
Anti-Semites rules!

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip

Aaron Sorkin learns
An important lesson: Few
Care how shows are made.

Saturday Night Broadcast Network Programming

Nothing. Not a thing.
Repeats, failed shows, “Cops,� more “Cops.�
You must get out more.

Dexter

He kills murderers.
Wait – that makes him one too, right?
What will he do now?

The O’Reilly Factor

This is what happens
When a mammal goes too long
Without rabies shots.

And, of course: Your contributions are more than welcome.

MSNBC's Joe Scarborough, a former Florida Republican Congressman, tonight gave props to Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert for their influence on this week's election. Scarborough wandered off the right-wing reservation quite some time ago, during his Hurricane Katrina coverage (and still, Republicans wanted him to step in and supplant Katherine Harris's epically bungled campaign for the Senate; Joe, obviously, declined): He not long ago devoted the first segment of his show to an installment entitled "Is Bush an Idiot?" And he followed that up with a couple of more segments on the topic.

That last one was with Bill Maher, who opened tonight's episode of HBO's "Real Time" with his assessment of the election's outcome: "Last time I was this happy, there was a pregnancy test involved." The interesting thing, though, was that although he had, earlier this week on CNN, promised Larry King that he would be outing other gay Republicans on tonight's episode, he, in fact, did not. (When he ostensibly outed one to King, that exchange was subsequently edited out of repeats of the broadcast). Lawyers, the TV industry's biggest fans, obviously got involved.

The Aaron Sorkin Schadenfreude Express ground to a halt today as NBC decidedly, finally, to pick up "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" for the remainder of the season.

Its timeslot competition, ABC's "What About Brian," also received an order for a complete season, despite even more anemic ratings. But both networks have bigger problems, so they'll attend to those and keep these folks employed for a few more months.

Meanwhile, "Justice" is dead, again. After getting yanked from its Wednesday timeslot and getting sat on the bench to think things over, it has now been relinquished of its Monday-at-9 timeslot, as well. "House" reruns will fill the space in the interim. ("House" repeats will soon be blanketing Fox's schedule.)

NBC's Kevin Reilly, in announcing "Studio 60's" pickup, told Daily Variety, "It's a bull's-eye at the core of our brand. I love the talent onscreen and off, and I want to give it the full season to work it out and fully discover its audience." Or, more precisely, allow the audience to discover it.

But I agree with Reilly on one thing - the cast is compulsively watchable. Unfortunately, what they're made to do isn't, always (this week's episode, with Nathan Corddry's character suffering through an escalating series of woes after defending Sarah Paulson's Harriet against an angry fan, clearly wanted to ape the mechanics of farce; unfortunately, Sorkin doesn't do farce. Also, it's interesting that so much time was devoted to a sketch that wasn't funny. Meanwhile, the (not so) big question was: Will they be able to put on a show? One of the things that's kind of cloying about "Studio 60" is its clinging to the notion that all involved are living in a halcyon age; you can already see them in the future all saying to one another, "Those were the days" - and maybe that's the trouble; maybe they need tougher roadblocks that really challenge their bulletproof natures). And yet despite frequent declarations that I'm through with the show, I keep getting dragged back.

But this hurts "Friday Night Lights," which proved two weeks back it could do better in a different time slot. Mondays at 10 ain't gonna be it.

While the cell phone has proven a veritable boon to mankind – how on earth did anyone ever manage to go grocery shopping before their existence? – one concedes that they are open to certain abuses that a civilized society should frown upon. We’ve already lost the battlefronts at restaurants and theaters and sporting events, but we just might be able to stave off the trend of people who natter away on them while at work. Which seems to arising with a startling regularity, as these examples culled from calls monitored by the National Security Agency suggest:

TV actor

“Hey, what’s up? Oh, just shooting a scene. Ah, no worries – I just have one little line. It’s another one of those where we’re trying to figure out what’s wrong with the patient. Yeah, I know – exactly. Oh, wait, it’s almost my turn. Hold on a second. (pause) ‘Should we test her for lupus?’ (pause) Now, where were we?�

Stand-up comic

“No, yeah; I’m onstage now. No, I’m doing my jokes. Wait just a sec. ‘And what’s up with those little bags of peanuts they serve on airlines? You know the ones, right? With about six peanuts in the bag? Jeez, that’s nuts! Well, I did some research into this, and I found out why the bags are so tiny: It’s so people with allergies won’t go into anaphylactic shock during the flight. See, they figured out how many peanuts that the people who are deathly allergic can be around and they divided that into the number of people on an airplane and then …’ What’s that? Yeah, I think this bit is gonna have to come out of the routine. ‘Hey, President Bush is in the news again…’�

Grocery-store cashier

“No, I told you, my break was at 8! It’s OK. You want to party later? The night-shift manager’s off sick today so I think I can get some beer. Meet at Tony’s? Cool. Eww, gross, this guy’s buying some Depends!�

Policeman

“It’s called three-bean soup because there are different kinds of bean in it, not beans from three different cans of the same beans… What’s that? You’re breaking up … Oh, I sound winded because I’m chasing a suspect. Yeah, gun’s drawn. We’re in this warehouse district; no, I don’t see him right now, he just turned a corner. Just a dirtbag carjacker. I know – you don’t have to tell me! Freeze! No, not you – yes, you! Put it down – no, not – look, this is getting confusing; let me get back to you, OK? No, not you! Down on the ground! No, not you….�

Proctologist

“Did you see the Clippers last night? Man, they were stinking up the place in the first quarter and I was thinking, ah, jeez, maybe it’s just the uniform or something; put ’em in something that doesn’t say ‘Clippers’ on it and maybe they’ll play up to their abilities – oh, not much, I’m just performing a colonoscopy – so anyway, yeah, but they came back from 14 down and beat the Mavs by 18! Mobley was on fire! Hold on – I’m sorry, sir, but this’ll go much more easily if you quit squirming so much – anyway; no, you’re right, I don’t know what’s going on with Elton Brand so far. But they’re playing good team ball – Mmmm, polyps!�

It has been a tough day for Donald Rumsfeld. First, obviously, was that whole losing-his-job thing, a mere week after George W. Bush had threatened to keep him on as Defense Secretary for the duration of his Presidency.

And then, perhaps equally crushing, was ABC's announcement that it had picked up "Men in Trees" - a show that Rumsfeld absolutely hates - for the entire season, and was going to schedule it Thursdays at 10 following "Grey's Anatomy," replacing Rumsfeld's favorite series, "Six Degrees," beginning Nov. 30. (Other Rumsfeld favorites - which he refers to as "my stories" - include "The Flavor of Love," "Medium," "Ghost Whisperer," "Veronica Mars," "30 Rock," "Heroes" and, of course, the nuke-'em-back-to-the-stone-age saga "Jericho.")

ABC issued the requisite boilerplate blandishments and attributed them to Entertainment president Stephen McPherson: “We love these two shows ('Trees,' 'Degrees') and are excited at the promise they have shown. Thursdays will be a great platform for ‘MEN IN TREES’ to reach a larger audience.�

That last part is true, at least: The romantic-comedy is far move compatible with "Grey's Anatomy" than the pseudo-mystical-wildly-coincidental plot mechanics of "Six Degrees" (which, if you think about it, is just "Heroes" with fewer degrees, no superpowers and nothing remotely interesting going on), which ABC claims will return in January. If it in fact does resurface, then Mr. Rumsfeld will have more free time to keep up with it.

For the three or four of you out there wondering whether CBS's new sitcom "The Class" will survive the season despite fairly anemic ratings, the answer may have been provided today when the network announced that it's divvying up its successful apocalyptic drama "Jericho" into two seasons: There'll be a cliffhanger episode Nov. 29, and then it'll go away until February, thus avoiding repeats during the season (echoes of ABC's "Lost" strategy this year).

On Feb. 14, a recap episode will air (because nothing screams Valentine's-Day romance like a show recapping half a season's worth of end-of-the-world carnage); on Feb. 21, a new episode will examine what life was like in the small Kansas town the day before the nuclear attacks - a return to Sept. 10, if you will - before returning to the storyline.

What does all this have to do with "The Class?" In "Jericho's" absence, CBS will double-pump episodes of "The King of Queens" at 8 and 8:30 p.m. Wednesdays. "King of Queens" was the show most likely to replace "The Class," were "The Class" to be replaced, so its use on Wednesdays should mean that the folks over at "The Class" may be breathing a little more easily today.

Anyone wanting to catch up with "Jericho" can do so on CBS's innertube.com, where the show, according to the network, is the most-streamed program.

ABC's decision to jettison "Help Me Help You" last night in favor of election-night coverage paid off: It received 12.76 million viewers at 9:30, more than that sitcom gets these days, and also helped it get more viewers at 10 (8.7m) than NBC (7.2m) and CBS (7.08m). NBC and CBS's numbers were fewer than the networks get during their evening newscasts. So Katie Couric can't be said to have passed her first breaking-news story with flying colors, though she was closer to No. 1 NBC last night than she is at 6:30. (CBS had a stronger lead-in with "The Unit," however.)

Other ratings stuff:

"Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" has apparently hit its floor: 7.78m viewers on Monday, roughly what it received two weeks ago. "Friday Night Lights" dropped back to its anemic levels last night, 6.25m viewers, 2 million off what it managed when NBC tried it in "Studio 60's" timeslot last week. (NBC probably hurt it by not building off that momentum and airing an original episode in its regular timeslot last week.) Fox's "Standoff" is hurting in its new 8 p.m. timeslot, 5.5m viewers. ABC's killing on Tuesdays, though that'll likely change significantly once "Dancing with the Stars" (22.5m last night) names its latest winner and the network is forced to return to that old, apparently unreliable, standby, scripted programming. And sitcoms, at that.

Now that Missouri has been called (if prematurely a la protocol) for the Democrats in the Senate, the country's down to Montana (about to go Democrat) and Virginia (ugly battle ahead) as to whether the Democrats have taken the Senate as well as the House. NBC's Brian Williams has declared this election to have been defined by those pesky robo-calls; one suspects other issues just may have come into play. MSNBC's At this late hour, Chris Matthews, anxiety-ridden, is forgetting almost every candidates' name except "Clinton." But, just based upon Hillary's wardrobe tonight, Barak Obama is a shoo-in in 2008.

And, of course, Ah-nold landslided California over -- um, who, exactly? Phil, we genuinely hardly knew ye. Good luck getting on Leno now.

“The Daily Show with Jon Stewart� has tried to transform election-night coverage into real-time humor, without a whole lot of success: Its live shows have been better in concept than in execution. And so it went tonight, when it teamed with “The Colbert Report� to explicate the midterm elections. Without a great deal of success, either in terms of actual reportage (even though the show was live – I saw the East coast feed – they were well behind the reportage of the cable-news networks) and, sadly, the jokes were only borderline compared to the shows’ typical hilarity.

Termed the “Midterm Midtacular,� Stewart opened his discussion of the election with the questions: “Can Karl Rove’s tactical genius overcome, let’s say, reality?� And: “Will the Democrats prevail with their strategy of slowly backing out of the room when their older brother gets yelled out for burning down the garage?� He suggested that Democrats tonight, in widespread victories, were hoping to “allow themselves access to corruption and sexual activity.�

Stewart brought on Stephen Colbert, who, as “Stephen Colbert,� makes Bill O’Reilly look vaguely sane. Colbert produced an electoral map, an archival cartoon showing Europe being overrun by Hitler, which Stewart pointed out.

“Really, Jon? I cannot tell the difference,� Colbert responded.

Samantha Bee then noted that voting-machine problems recorded “accounting malfunctions coming in from at least 87 states – that’s what the computer says.�

And those were the laughs - and there were another 27 minutes of show left.

Colbert fared better, later presenting two cakes celebrating victory: The alternative cake if Republicans didn’t sweep read “Congratulations Terrorists!� (“It’s devil’s food,� Colbert announced. Later, he intimated that it “tastes like surrender.�)

When the Democrats’ reclaiming of the House of Representatives seemed a foregone conclusion, Colbert groused, “The people have spoken, and apparently, they’re tired of freedom,� pointing his accusative finger at voters: “You’re the ones who made this bed, and now you’re going to have to move over to make room for gay married couples!�

Colbert’s half of the evening, like his show of late, was/is much more inspired and innovative than Stewart’s at this point, mainly because Stewart’s has had a pretty clear formula for success for several years now, whereas Colbert’s program seems more willing to try to reinvent itself for frequently with stunts that appeal to the online community. Not to mention those whose irony bones are far more fortified than even fans of Stewart’s: At the end of his show tonight, Uncle Sam, Colbert’s limo driver, revived the party-formerly-in-power’s blame-Clinton edict: “The Democrats have only been in power for a few minutes, and they’ve already stuck us in this unwinnable war!�

What a lovely mess is developing.

A Federal judge has ordered polling stations in Ohio to remain open an additional 90 minutes because of rampant voting problems. The state’s Attorney General filed an unsuccessful appeal. In Pennsylvania, Senator Rick Santorum, who has trailed badly throughout the campaign, has already sued, arguing that votes for him were not counted, apparently not considering that perhaps not many votes were cast for him. Bob Casey, a conservative Democrat, is projected to rid the Senate of Santorum, whom Howard Fineman on MSNBC just called “a thinker.� If believing homosexuality is akin to bestiality makes one a thinker, then, well, sure. (UPDATE: Santorum apparently thought better of the reported lawsuit, giving his concession speech at 7 p.m. PCT.)

In exit polls, “corruption� is cited as a major issue with voters.

Katherine Harris, who presided over President Bush’s 2000 victory in Florida, and Ken Blackwell, who served the same function in 2004 in Ohio, where voting machines were far more available in Republican precincts than Democratic ones, are both losing their elections; hers, in the spectacularly loopy Florida Senator’s race that transfixed political junkies and his for governor of Ohio.

Second craziest race, in Virginia, between Senate candidates George “Macaca� Allen and Jim Webb, still too close to call.

And - late-breaking news - two Texas politicians got into a scuffle outside a polling place, with one getting arrested for his beat-down on the guy who triumphed over him four years ago.

So if you're patient enough to sit through a lot of blathering talking heads spinning their talking points, this could be an entertaining thing to sit through.

So on this voting day of one of the most contentious election campaigns in history – one machine has already fallen victim to a cat paperweight wielded by a paranoid voter – what story does CNN consider earth-shattering enough to distribute as the first bulletin of the day from its “Breaking News� email service? You guessed it:

“- Britney Spears files for divorce from her husband Kevin Federline, citing irreconcilable differences.�

ABC has so much faith in its new sitcom "Help Me Help You" that it figures election coverage will actually garner better ratings - it's just yanked the comedy tonight in favor of an additional half hour of returns, footage of people kicking voting machines, poll workers assaulting voters, last-second threats of jail time for participating in democracy and attack ads and other picaresques that have become associated with voting in the 21st century. Come to think of it, that probably will be funnier than an episode of "Help Me Help You."

Ain’t democracy grand?

Based on the above, viewers may mistake tonight’s coverage of the election for an episode of The CW’s “WWE Smackdown!�

These political attack ads this season have grown beyond the pale. I mean, Your Mayor is not even running for office this election cycle (Your Mayor being in an enviable position of never having to run, which no doubt accounts for some of his flab), and yet, attack ads have cravenly attempted to drag me as an issue into this current election.

Take, as an example, this particular grotesquery:

THIS IS A RUSH TRANSCRIPT. THIS COPY MAY NOT BE IN ITS FINAL FORM AND MAY BE UPDATED.

Fade in: On a particularly unflattering portrait of Your Mayor, broccoli obviously stuck between his teeth.

Narrator: The Mayor of Television says he’s for quality programming, but his record suggests otherwise.

Cut to: Scene from “Fear Factor� of contestants eating horse privates. Then, a scene from “The Flavor of Love’s� reunion special fracas.

Narrator: Since grabbing power, under the Mayor’s watch, reality programming has risen by 28 percent.

Cut to: Scene of Howie Mandel grinning with a leering menace as a suitcase babe lasciviously winks at him.

Narrator: Primetime game shows have risen 19 percent, with more coming practically every day.

Cut to: Footage of William Shatner “boogying� with young women in ABC’s “Show Me the Money.�

Narrator: Game shows? In prime time? Is this the glorious future our Mayor promised us?

Cut to: Shot of Jim Belushi.

Narrator: And “According to Jim� is still on the air.

Cut to: Scene from “The War at Home� of Michael Rapaport over-reacting with hyperbolic dismay to the antics of his gay son.

Narrator: And even though its ratings are abysmal, no one has yet cancelled “The War at Home.�

Cut to: Footage (which I’m pretty sure is Photoshopped) of Your Mayor, surrounded by drunken network executives lifting their glasses and laughing with a soul-wrenching cynicism, ripping open a puppy’s chest and eating his heart.

Narrator: Meanwhile, the Mayor lives it up with his fat-cat buddies, while puppies die in vain.

The Mayor of Television: Wrong on reality television. Wrong on primetime gameshows. Wrong on “According to Jim.� Just. Plain. Wrong.

A different, hyperventilating Narrator: Paid for by Concerned Citizens of Television. Supporting your Mayor may result in heart murmurs, unsightly rashes and major organ failure. If symptoms persist, quit watching television. Your mileage may vary.

Utterly shameless. Though I would’ve had a lot less trouble with this campaign if they had had that ditzy blonde at the end of that Tennessee spot mimicking a phone to her head and imploring, “Call me.�

Tonight on “Prison Break,� at least three people are utterly betrayed, four are completely screwed and one or two are beaten and humiliated: pretty much an average day at the office for “Prison Break.�

Last week, Lincoln (Dominic Purcell) and his son (Marshall Allman) were captured by authorities. They break the land-speed record for escaping, however, as this week, they’re already sprung. But those who rescue them may be worse than the cops. Also, Michael (Wentworth Miller) and Sara (Sarah Wayne Calies) have their long-awaited reunion, but it doesn’t go the way either of them (or, likely, viewers) would’ve preferred. And Bellick (Wade Williams), the ex-prison guard, does three extraordinarily stupid things in this one episode while, um, interrogating T-Bag (Robert Knepper) in his quest to cadge T-Bag’s cut of the money, including handcuffing him to a radiator – by the hand that has already come off once. Dope.

And Michael and Mahone (William Fichtner) square off in another clash of Quien es mas macho: "When you get close, I will win every time," Michael boasts; Mahone counters with, "You can’t kill, and that’s what it’s going to take to stop me." Dude, don't encourage him by giving away trade secrets.

So it’s more breathless if sometimes silly adventure from the world’s most entertaining most-wanted.

Prison Break: 8 tonight on Fox Channel 11.

You have to admire CBS's timing: The Monday after "Borat's" storming the box-office gates with an astounding $30K perscreen average, the network's online component Innertube offers a series, "The Papdits," from Anthony Hines, one of the four writers credited with "Borat's" screenplay.

Does this sound familiar?: "The Papdits" is a partially improvised series concerning a Kashmiri family, cameras in tow, who traverse America to discover its bounties. I'd report further but when I click on the "Watch" command, my computer gazes back at me dumbly.

So that's your job. Is this any good? Can it remotely compare to "Borat?"

Make no mistake: “Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan� is, as you’ve heard from practically everybody, punishingly hilarious, the funniest movie front-to-back since “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.� Fox had an ill-advised crisis in confidence in scaling back the number of theaters the movie would play in opening weekend to a mere 837 – the film will still open at No. 1, having made $9 million on Friday alone (No. 2, “Santa Clause 3: Clause We Think You’re Stupid,� earned a mere $5 million in four times as many theaters).

So here I am to ruin it for you.

The question before us is: How did Sacha Baron Cohen, the film’s mastermind and star (whose heretofore better-known doppelganger, Ali G, duped Newt Gingrich into a discussion on anal sex), manage such a high-wire act in a litigious age rife with viral videos and people who hate, if not America, being mocked and denigrated and not being able to control their own narratives?

At this point, we’re going to assume you’ve already seen the film or, at least, seen the wealth of available clips online that make you feel like you’ve seen the film or just read so damn much about the movie that it’s become akin to a second child for you. Which means, essentially, that anyone wanting to avoid spoilers should bail out now (though, to be fair, spoilers for this movie can’t really spoil the shocks or laughs).

Many reviews suggest that “Borat� is just a string of sketches loosely linked. But there’re a couple of scenes that suggest that actual thought went into turning the miasma of found footage into a genuine narrative: the throughline of a joke involving a rubber fist, for one, and even the incorporation of a lame joke involving the ironic use of the word “not.�

So: How did the filmmakers manage to get so many willing, or unwilling, dupes to play along? The contention here: More participants than you might think knew precisely what was going on. And herewith, the theories (feel free to add your own thoughts):

Sequence: When Borat boards a New York subway train, he attempts to befriend a number of patrons with kisses and is rejected with threats of violence. His suitcase opens, revealing a live chicken, which hops about crazily, potentially clawing those just wanting to get home unscathed.

Analysis: A manufactured scene. As MTV2’s “Wondershowzen� reveals, one can use almost any footage, even if those involved don’t sign releases: All one need do is blur out the faces of those not interested in playing along.

Not one of the people on the subway car suggesting Borat perform sexual acts requiring no other participants have their faces digitally blurred, nor does anyone threatened with a potentially litigious scratch by Borat’s chicken. Nor, for that matter, do any of the remarkably well-mic’d men in the street Borat approaches.

Sequence: Borat invites a late-arriving hooker to an elegant meal amidst Southern gentlemen and ladies.

Analysis: A standard Borat prank, with the hooker, as the film shows, in on the joke. The other dinner participants slowly come to realize this, prompting them to boot Cohen to the street. Oddly, this is one of the few incidents to have been reported upon when it occurred.

Sequence: Borat checks into a bed-and-breakfast run by a kindly old Jewish couple.

Analysis: Cooked up largely if not entirely. It's unlikely the filmmakers would have simply stumbled onto a B-&-B with Jewish art lining its walls, equally unlikely the couple wouldn't pick up on Borat's hilarious unease around them, and the bit with the cockroaches is obviously a nasty little contrivance.

Sequence: Borat and his corpulent producer’s extraordinarily erotic nude-wrestling sequence spills into a ballroom hosting real-estate convention.

Analysis: This is where half the film’s $18-million budget went – into buying off these people to keep quiet and to suppress any images those attending might have recording of the incident (brilliant use of a wildly overly optimistic black bar to shield viewers from images of Cohen’s chram, by the way). How does an account of this not leak into the nation’s media? How do cops not get called and this footage not get confiscated? The filmmakers likely secured access to film the convention through other means. Keeping it on the down-low worked beautifully: I have never heard, nor participated in, such sustained hysterical laughter as that which this scene wrenches from its audiences.

Or this was completely made up, as well. Still, at that point in the movie, you're convinced that Cohen would, in fact, do this, which is just as effectively funny.

Sequence: Frat guys reveal themselves to be utter pigs.

Analysis: Obviously, access was secured through a different avenue than just having the guys pick up a hitchhiker with a camera crew, but this stuff is stomach-churningly real: Even the filmmakers themselves can’t seem to believe it, since they dwell on it for so long.

Sequence: Borat is “converted� during a Pentacostal revival.

Analysis: These folks don’t have enough of a sense of humor to play along, so this has to be real. Again, the team secured access to the event and then Borat showed up unannounced. This is the one scene in which Cohen seems to pull his punches – he says nothing that would be overtly offensive to his guests.

Sequence: Armed with an ornate Kazakh “sack,� Borat attempts to abduct Pamella Anderson for marriage during an appearance at a record store.

Analsysis: Utterly staged. At this point in the film, you’ve gotten used to Borat’s interactions with people feeling uncomfortably authentic, so the filmmakers have neatly roped you in. Even the way the autograph line is concocted isn’t concurrent with how such things are usually managed: A store employee keeps fans 10 or so feet away from Anderson until it’s their turn to get an autograph. What this actually serves to do is to keep people a safe distance from Borat as he goes about his business. In a nice piece of obfuscation, this bizarre story made the rounds.

Oddly enough, the one thing the audience didn't seem to go with? The bear's head in the fridge. That, and that alone of Borat and his producer's antics, elicited groans.

So kudos to Cohen and company for their artful, brilliant work and their ruthless editing that keeps the movie lean and mean (the film's collection of outtakes on DVD should be one for the ages, though) and kudos to me for not writing a sentence in Borat’s mangled syntax. See you at the Oscars … pause … not!

Your Mayor may have been one of the first people to get truly sick of “Desperate Housewives:� To these eyes and ears, the show was already smugly self-satisfied halfway through season one. Season two merely perpetuated the trend.

But what has been seen of Season Three has been pretty cheeky, darkly funny stuff. The most recent evidence can be seen on Sunday, which boasts a lot of black comedy – until it doesn’t.

Oddly enough, Sunday’s episode cribs a page from ABC’s “The Nine,� which takes almost a month to lure as many viewers as “Housewives� does in an hour: It concerns a fateful hostage situation. After Carolyn Bigsby (Laurie Metcalf) learns that her husband had an affair, she heads to the grocery store he manages and begins shooting the place up, announcing, “Attention shoppers, we have a special today on not getting shot, but it’s only available at the back of the store.�

Naturally, some Housewives just happen to be in the store at the time – Lynette (Felicity Huffman) and Edie (Nicollette Sheridan), not to mention Susan’s (Teri Hatcher) daughter: “Take me instead: I promise I’ll be a model hostage,� Susan begs Bigsby after commandeering a police bullhorn.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle (Eva Longoria) and Carlos (Antonio Chavira), in the midst of their contentious divorce proceedings, not only chew their scenery but utterly trash it, and Bree (Marcia Cross), Martha Stewart’s cuter doppelganger, turns the hostage incident into a viewing party for the entire neighborhood:

“Bree, have you heard?� a nosy neighbor at her door inquires.

“Yes, it’s just awful – deviled egg?� Bree responds, proffering an immaculate tray of treats.

But things turn weirdly serious, as this single hour of “Desperate Housewives� manages a body count approximating “The Nine’s� entire output thusfar, and suddenly it gets all lachrymose.

Which then brings us to “Brothers & Sisters,� which faithful constituents of Your Mayor already know sends him lunging for sharp objects, but as the show has been handed over to “Everwood’s� creator Greg Berlanti, he decided to give it another chance.

Unwisely, it turns out. The series is still trying to eke drama out of a wealthy family becoming incrementally less privileged: They’re still trying to locate a computer password that might locate embezzled millions – after more than a month? Really? Imagine how this would play on “24� – and, oh, boo-hoo, to make amends, Rachel Griffiths’ character has opted to sell the family’s little-used Ojai ranch. (Whoever is responsible for making Griffiths play such a direly uninteresting character should be relegated to serving as script consultant on “According to Jim.�)

Anyhoo, as imbeciles, such as this show’s writers, say, Sally Field’s matriarch character suggests the family visit said ranch one last time; all summarily reject the idea. Then, one by one, each brother and each sister decides to visit the Ojai ranch surreptitiously, everyone mooning lasciviously over some legendary treehouse on the property.

They’re all expecting the ranch to be empty and to be able consummate all sorts of relationships in said treehouse and, of course, well, mayhem will ensue in a way that most sitcoms these days endeavor to eschew. Geez. Perhaps “According to Jim� is too subtle for these minds.

Two observations:

* The storyline attempting to link Calista Flockhart’s right-wing wingnut with her comparable idiot-liberal commentator on their TV show betrays all essential knowledge on how such shows operate. For instance: Its producer frets about the fact that the show is lagging in the demographic of viewers aged 18-35. Set aside the fact that that demographic is actually aimed at viewers aged 18-34; no serious political show is aimed at a demographic younger than viewers aged 25-54. And, of course, no political show would be aimed at viewers who would take Calista Flockhart seriously.

* Balthazar Getty’s character is incapable of conceiving, yet apparently hellbent on perpetuating his species. So why would he, upon hearing of an appropriate sperm-doner, tell his betrothed, “When I think about that guy’s sperm in your body, I just want to strangle him�? So why did he and his wife come to this point in the first place?

Again: Anyhoo, the family gets all sort of faux-schmaltzy over a piece of land none of them have apparently visited in years. “Remember how the air used to smell at night?� one asks, in a vain stab at lyric poetry. Nope, but I remember vividly how this show used to smell: That’s why I could only sit through 12 minutes of this episode before lunging for my remote’s “eject� button.

"Desperate Housewives:" 9 p.m. Sunday on ABC (Channel 7 in L.A.).
"Brothers & Sisters:" 10 p.m. Sunday on ABC. (Well, you know, ditto.)

… we just want to get the hell out.

Karl Pilkington is the – well, you could call him an idiot savant were he savant in anything – that Ricky Gervais transformed into an international star on his podcast, in which he allowed Karl to spout his bizarre and querulous world view, whereupon Gervais and Stephen Merchant (Gervais’ writing partner on “The Office� and “Extras�) would roundly excoriate him for his imbecility. Karl would just sit there and dumbly, numbly accept the abuse. Some accused Gervais of “inventing� Karl’s character (arguing that no one could really be that stupid, suggesting that those making the accusations don’t travel in my circles), a charge he steadfastly denies.

Gervais has thoughtfully assembled some of Karl’s pearls of wisdom into book form, “Ricky Gervais Presents The World of Karl Pilkington,� a spastically hilarious compendium of what Gervais himself deems “drivel.�

Consider this exchange, in which Karl offers his theory on population control (imagine Karl’s voice a dopey, soft-spoken mumble, Merchant’s filled with even-handed incredulity and Gervais’ etched with mounting mock-outrage):

Karl: It’d be good if what happened was, to control it, a man and a woman, right, they’re born and that, they enjoy their life, they learn a lot. They live to be about 78 at that point.
Ricky: So specific. …
Karl: So I’ve had my innings, I live to be 78, but then, just as you die, you have a little baby inside you and, as you die, your life carries on. …
Ricky: Sorry – are you mental? I have never heard such drivel.
Karl: You’re saying that, but if (Isaac) Newton said it you’d go, ‘Hmm, interesting.’ That’s what annoys me.
Steve: Karl, he never would. He would never say it and that’s the point. …
Karl: With my way, babies aren’t being born left, right and center. It’s controlled so that as someone dies, someone’s born.
Steve: But Karl, stop. Whose responsibility is this?
Karl: Look, if you don’t wanna do it, we won’t do it. …
Ricky: What I like is, he said to you, ‘Look if you don’t want to do it, we don’t need to do it.’ As though if you were up for it, we’ll sort it out. …
Steve: So your solution is that 78-year-old women have little babies inside them and as they slip away into death, the little babies are born?
Ricky: And who looks after the baby, because it is a pretty good system having a baby while you are young enough to look after that baby. …
Steve: I mean, that system has been working for years. But wait a minute, Nature, put that on hold, ’cause Karl Pilkington’s got an idea.
Karl: That’s what it was. Just an idea. …
Ricky: I saw a similar sort of theory written out on a wall, but it was written in s#!t.

But here’s the beef: Gervais has gotten awfully greedy while milking Karl for all he’s worth. Initially, the podcasts were free; then, they started charging for them. Fair enough; Karl has to make a living some way. But now, this book – a small, slender trade paperback that just recycles bits from the podcasts one has presumably already paid for (the podcasts, by and large, were recycled from bits Gervais, Merchant and Karl did for a British radio station), costs a whopping $20, with little value-added content aside from some sketches Karl has done, apparently with colored Bic pens. And on top of this, Gervais is releasing a “Best of� the podcasts, with an hour of new material, forcing rabid fans to once again buy something they’ve already paid for.

Gervais is becoming the George Lucas of comedy.

Perhaps sensing this – or, perhaps, needing an outlet to market his new product – Gervais is offering three new free podcasts, the first of which is available here.

CBS's "Criminal Minds" roundly beat "Lost" for the first time Wednesday - it had been outscoring the show in the second half-hour for the past few weeks - with 16.74m viewers to ABC's jigsaw puzzle's 16.12m. "Lost" has hemorrhaged more than 5 million viewers this season from last, and still hasn't managed to stanch the bleeding, even after going to the trouble of killing off Eko so gruesomely.

Next week, "Lost" will air its final episode for a few months, in which it is expected to uncork a most startling revelation, that The Others are more sinister than anyone realized, that they're really on the island to hone their choreography before embarking on a road tour of Twyla Tharp's "Movin' Out," and they abducted Jack, Kate and Sawyer to serve as a test audience. After that, ABC will replace "Lost" with "Day Break," yet another obsessively serialized drama, which will allow "Criminal Minds" to claim ownership of the timeslot unchallenged.

And still, "Criminal Minds" has further plans for timeslot domination. Later this month, Paget Brewster joins the cast as Agent 15. Brewster's a terrific comedic actress - she was on the too-short-lived "Andy Richter Controls the Universe" - who's had troubles finding shows that stick ("The Trouble With Normal," "Huff") and who recently turned up at the Upright Citizens Brigade to participate in Doug Benson's podcast "I Love Movies" (I'm not sure he really does) even though the last movie she had seen in a theater was "War of the Worlds;" she showed up in a slinky, leopard-skin-print dress (Paget, it's a podcast, not an American Apparel photo shoot! It's not Letterman! No one's going to see you! You didn't see Bob Odenkirk all dressed up, did you? Well, did you? Answer me!) and who is in the process of taking out a restraining order against Your Mayor simply because he possesses an apparently unhealthy amount of knowledge about her.

Actually, I may be wrong about the Agent 15 thing. But she's playing a Fed of some sort. Those comedic chops will serve her well as she stands alongside Mandy Patinkin over "Criminal Minds"' latest female torture victim.

What does it say about a show that it can't even manage to lure viewers when its only competition is repeats? NBC's "Kidnapped" failed Wednesdays at 10; because the show was serialized, NBC, wanting to do the right thing, moved it to Saturdays, where any fans caught up in the mystery could follow it to its resolution. Apparently, there weren't many: Last Saturday, it drew a mere 3 million viewers and change.

Hence, NBC has yanked the show altogether. The final episodes will be available online only, where they'll likely get fewer hits than Lonelygirl15 crossing her eyes and standing on her head for 45 seconds on YouTube.

If memory serves, the network had originally scheduled it Tuesdays at 9 p.m. but moved it in that giant shuffle to rescue "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" from getting pummelled by "CSI" and "Grey's Anatomy" on Thursdays. Certainly, there's no guarantee that "Kidnapped" would've fared better opposite "The Unit" and "Standoff" (now, "House," which just flipped timeslots) and "Dancing/Help Me," but at least it would've been surrounded by more compatible programming ("Kidnapped"/"L&O: SVU" was a credible bloc on a tonal level). NBC's Wednesday lead-in, the semi-faux-inspirational "Biggest Loser" (it's true: People will do anything to get on TV, even eat healthily and exercise) is scarcely the show that's going to bring viewers to a dark drama about an abducted teenager's travails.

So: Moving "Studio 60" not only didn't help it, but, if you want to apply a little chaos theory, it may have killed off "Kidnapped," as well. If you work hard enough, you probably can find a way to blame Aaron Sorkin for Cory Lidle's plane crash, as well.

Kudos to ABC for finally figuring out that TV critics like screeners of midseason episodes of network series, to keep up when they otherwise might not be able. I’m pretty sure I have more episodes of ABC shows airing in the next week than the network sent out in the whole of last season.

First up, “Ugly Betty,� which remains stylish good fun. Salma Hayek, one of the show’s executive producers, returns tonight as a guest star as a new employee in callow Daniel Meade’s father’s magazine empire whom Daniel (Eric Mabius) decides will be his next conquest; her opinion doesn’t really enter into it much until, of course, it does.

Meanwhile, Betty (America Ferrara) and her sister Hilda (Ana Ortiz) have to raise cash – quick – in order to pay an attorney to get their father (Tony Plana) a belated green card, a quest that results in an unexpected family revelation, one fully worthy of the show’s telenovela roots. Betty finds an unlikely ally in this mission – uber-bitch Wilhelmina (Vanessa Williams) – and must decide whether to make this deal with the devil, while Wilhelmina is busy butting heads with her rebellious daughter in a canny clash of sensibilities that results, kind of, in a draw.

Debi Mazar (“Entourage�) picks up a story arc as an attorney who might help Betty and Hilda's pop. One of “Ugly Betty’s� interesting accomplishments is that it allows its non-Latino characters to make cutting, bitchy jokes referencing Latino stereotypes; no other show can do this so cleverly – “George Lopez� has its Latino characters shiv themselves, or, when whites insult them, they do so clunkily and humorlessly. But “Ugly Betty� is keen on snappy dialogue, trusting that audiences will understand that no matter how witty the insult may be, the character delivering it remains a backwards dolt in terms of enlightenment. A deceptively deft trick.

Only complaint: While the desire not to overwork Ferrara is commendable, and while this episode seems designed to give her an Emmy clip should the show decide to opt to posit her work as dramatic rather than comic, her funny stuff is far too enjoyable to stifle like this for significant periods of time.

And tonight’s episode allows the wildly witty Ortiz to proffer the definitive description of the show’s inventive set design of the magazine offices at which Betty works: “It looks like a gay version of ‘Star Trek,’� she says. I couldn’t’ve said it better myself, and if I had, someone, somewhere, would’ve complained.

Bob Barker's recent announcement that he plans to throw in the towel after only half a century in television reminded me of the time I visited the set of "The Price is Right." (Honest: This is a true story.)

I was working on a Pulitzer Prize-magnet-type of story, about the show auditioning new Barker's Beauties, so I got to hear from aspirants just how much of a challenge it was to sweep one's arm gracefully towards a washer-dryer combo. The taping had just begun when it was just as suddenly halted and the studio evacuated: No biggie, just a bomb scare.

This was back when Barker's thoughts on neutering animals was considered mildly controversial, and the prior weekend someone had tossed something vaguely threatening onto his property. On this day, a mysterious package had been found near the "Price is Right" soundstage at CBS Television City (this was years before 9/11).

So some people were a little jittery: As I was leaving the studio through the labyrinthine backstage, I overheard a stage hand bellow words that haunt me to this day: "Oh my God, they're out to get Barker!"

Well, "haunt's" probably not the right word, but still.

Bomb squad shows up. Blows an old pair of sneakers to kingdom come.

Barker, unflappable - he even jokes about it - proceeds to dispense washer-dryers and new cars! unabated from thereon. Even then, Barker knew: If you can't allow tourists to putt golf balls for an exercycle, guess the price of a package of eyedrops for outdoor patio furniture and spin a big wheel for the chance to win his-and-her paddleboats, then the terrorists have won.

Friday night’s episode of NBC’s “Law & Order� opens with the following obligatory disclaimer: “The following story is fictional and does not depict any actual person or event.�

It then proceeds to relate the tale of a celebrity pulled over for drunk-driving who calls a female police officer “sugart!ts.�

We suggest the following disclaimer for future “Law & Order� episodes:

“Look, we’ve been on the air for 17 years, plus, we have a couple of spinoffs still on the air snatching salacious storylines from our grasp. Most shows run out of ideas after four or five years. Cut us some slack, willya?�

Chevy Chase gives his funniest performance in about two decades as Mitch Carroll, a washed-up entertainer (big stretch there). Through a clenched jaw that apparently serves as character development, Chevy’s Mitch spews such invective as “Are you a Jew? You’re a Jew, right? I should’ve known they’d stick me in a room with a Jew cop! I’m not talking to any Jew!� and “They suck the money out of this town so they can send it to Israel to make bombs and matzo� and “Jews are always playing the victim when all the time, I’m the one who’s been the victim.�

The big twist is that here, when Mitch (begins with “M�) is pulled over, there’s blood spattered on his clothes, blood linked to a murdered Jewish TV executive whom he had insulted (and who had subsequently blackballed him in the entertainment industry – by this episode’s reckoning, Jews pretty much do run Hollywood). At this point, the requisite plot twists implicate someone else while not quite exonerating Mitch with an “M.�

So, Mitch with an “M� does the usual damage control: “I’d like to apologize again if any of my statements hurt anyone of the Jewish faith,� he says, blaming his boozing, “which I’m getting help for,� and adding, “I’m going to be doing a lot of soul-searching. I’m going to be reaching out to a lot of my Jewish friends. … Some of my best friends are Jews.� His attorney wears a yarmulke to a hearing.

“L&O� creator Dick Wolf, in a letter accompanying the episode’s screener, writes (dictated to a lackey, no doubt), “The story may be ‘ripped from the headlines,’ but there are shocking twists and turns that are the trademark of some of the most provocative episodes of ‘Law & Order.’�

Not that shocking, actually, and certainly not that provocative. But the “ripped-from-the-headlines� aspect, in this case, at least, promises some viewer curiosity.

Look: “Law & Order� had not just a damn fine run but a virtually legendary one. But if this is how the show sees fit to garner attention these days, then maybe NBC actually is better off blanketing its airwaves with babes with briefcases.

"Law & Order:" 10 p.m. Friday on NBC (Channel 4 in L.A.).