'Lord See that cat, Yeah I do mean you. See that cat. Yeah I do mean you. She got a TV eye on me.' - I. Pop, 1970

Television: Do I let the channel clicker rest on the second half of Chasing Amy (which I've seen a zillion times but is still very watchable) or catch an (apparently new) episode of NYC Prep.

Gotta go with the Manhattan debs over Holden, Banky and Alyssa.

Bad choice.

After five minutes and still no sign of sex or drugs (or anything else for that matter) I decided it was time to cut bait and flush this turd down the toilet/off my radar. Who'd have thunk rich, spoiled NYC teens and no vice? What's the world coming to?

Maybe the History Channel's 'Life After People'? The WASP Wet Dream (all the people of the Earth disappear but the animals and all man-made structures/everything else is fine). This is an actual series that each week takes a look at how different aspects of mankind's handiwork slowly (or quickly) erodes over time and/or neglect. As exciting as that sounds, it's a dull scene.

The Science Channel has a 'Humanology' marathon. First up: Electric Human. It's about how some guy is unaffected by being exposed to high voltage electricity. How can he absorb all this current? Who cares? Burn that motherfucker down, goes the song. He'll eventually go the way of Frank Grimes. And the show is a snooze. My favorite Science Channel show (which admittedly isn't limited to the Science Channel but rather makes its way around basic cable) is Survivorman. Less Stroud is the outdoor survivalist answer to MacGyver. If MacGyver was Canadian. But strangely, tonight is one of the few that Les isn't to be found on the dial.

So I incessantly scan for something to take my mind off of the insanity of work that threatens to reach up out of my Blackberry. I am often surprised that certain folks manage to figure out how to put their clothes on and drive to work each day. They must stop at each and every button of their shirt, calling and asking what they should do next. 'See that fourth button, the one right below the third button I just had you do? Well, do the same thing with that one. What? Yes, I know the third hole is already filled with the third button - put it in the fourth hole, directly across from it.'

Hey, one of Discovery's Hot 100 Infomercials is on - rocking up the charts.
High Definition Shades. 'Everything just ... Pops!' 'I got Thumbs Up from the Wife so I'll take them!' 'I can see the Blue of the Ocean!' 'Only 19.95? You kiddin' me!? And they're HD?' This is the 21st Century equivalent to Blue Blockers (an infomercial golden oldie).

Anyway, I think the paint is dry now - maybe I can catch what looks to be an exciting CNBC special on NASCAR weathering the down economy (and looks like I missed CNBC's take on the Porn Industry but I'm sure that'll repeat).

Or I can keep it on the TV Land Cosby Show Retrospective.

Or watch some of the Phillies.

Or the breaking news on Michael Jackson's toxicology report - flash! breaking news! And the news? That the toxicology report won't be released until next week! When can we kill the Jackson death? Or at least kill all the rest of the characters in this badly written play? Hey, Heir Doktor Sanjay Gupta is all scrubbed up and in the OR to show how a pre-op patient is put under with MJ's Drug of Choice, Diprivan and requires a machine to breath because the stuff zaps you so hard. The Chief of Anesthesiology tells the good Dr. Gupta that he 'hasn't heard of this being used in a home for legit reasons.' Really?!? Sounds like a fine, mellow high.

Speaking of the dead, here's my ol pal BILLY MAYS! So loud hawking 'Fix It' ('Now this scratch has met it's match!!!') that he can hear himself in ... well, whatever purgatory Infomercial ghosts are condemned to).

Maybe I should just shove my hand into the blender and hit the Frappe, wrap the stump with gauze and go to bed. Maybe after the Daily Show.

Pay Now or Palin

The man that truly defined both Mr. Tambourine Man and Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds in the sixties (Dylan/Byrds, who? Lennon, what?), Mr. T.J. Kirk himself Bill Shatner, raised the bar with a beatnik style reading of Sarah Palin's recent Farewell Speech. Palin was obviously channeling Allen Ginsberg's the Howl for her inspiration and Shatner does her proud. The girl with kaleidoscope eyes, indeed.

I can't wait to see what she's up to next! In an entertaining but not a good way!

Seriously, if we let her within 500 yards of either the White House or Capital Hill (and I mean even on a public tour), we will have really jumped the national shark and it'll be time to go live life under a more reasonable leader ... Like Lil' Kim Jong-Il (with my luck, they'll band together: Jong-Il - Palin 2012 bumper stickers are surely being printed as I write this). Or maybe Ted Nugent. Nugent-Palin, bringing Wolf hunting back to the mainstream where it belongs.