I guess I’m not surprised to hear “John From Cincinnati” isn’t being renewed. The show really was a disappointment. (Did I watch all 10 episodes? Of course. That’s how I know.) I preserved high hopes to the end, thinking perhaps the promo guys were telling the truth when they said “all will be explained” in the final episode.
It wasn’t. As far as I can tell, God sent JFC to earth to save a surf-gear business, but I could be wrong. The show sort of went off the rails for me after John made his speech at the barbecue a few episodes back, a sermon that sounded like it was written, but not delivered, by potheads on the fifth day of a smoke-a-pound binge. A commenter at Television Without Pity said it best: Dear Mr. Milch, Please, put the drugs away. When the series was debuting, he (David Milch) went on Craig Ferguson’s show and said, “The wave — which I’m told is what surfers ride — is the only visible embodiment of what physicists tell us all matter is composed of, which is particles held together by some kind of magnetic or molecular force, and that’s what makes the waves move. And if God were trying to reach out to us, and teach us something about the deepest nature of man, he might use some drugged-out surfers.”
My gut reaction to this was: What b.s. But I wanted to believe. And I didn’t learn much about the deepest nature of man, except that Milch really needs to lay off the pottymouth dialogue and if I never hear the phrase “whippin’ his skippy” or “dump out” again, I can die happy.
Ah, well. “The Wire” will be with us eventually. Some compensation. And “Big Love” is really hitting its stride this season. I’ll keep HBO another year, I think.
You know what day we got digital cable with HBO? September 11, 2001. I could hardly bear it when the cable guy had to disconnect service briefly to get us hooked up to the ones-and-zeros feed. I told him as much when he got it reconnected, and said to just leave it on CNN, I’d show myself around the premium-channel landscape later. He said, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, man, this stuff” — gesturing to the carnage in New York — “it’s crazy.” Not the word I would have used, but OK.
A little pre-weekend bloggage, then?
Make cruel fun — you know you want to. Back later.