So I’m watching HBO’s equivalent of a televised acid trip, John From Cincinnati, and I’m trying to figure out what the HELL this John guy is talking about.  I’m sure there must be a bizarrely cohererent subtext occurring that I’m just not intelligent enough to understand.  And damn if I can make myself stop watching the bloody thing!

I mean, what the hell is with:

1. An aging surfer who can levitate.

2. A young surfer who is brain dead but comes back 100% healed at the kiss of a parrot.

3. A middle-aged surfer junkie who doesn’t need junk, and when he tries to take junk, his hair implants start smoking.

4.  A burned-out cop who can speak to his bird.

5. The biggest bitch ballbuster of a character that has ever been created in Rebecca de Mornay.

6. And the pièce de résistance, a WACKY dude named John from who knows where, who can astral project, who speaks in riddles, who surfs like he was born to it, who seems to have a bottomless pocketbook, and who is an absolute fucking nutjob.

7. And did I mention this show is addictive?  I will TRY to not watch it next week because it makes abosolutely no fucking sense, but I won’t be able to stop myself.

All I know is that after I saw tonight’s episode, I am quite certain that somehow the folks at HBO have figured out the science behind making their audience high by suggestion using Abbie Hoffman’s wonderful invention.  Somehow, through the digital cable thingamabob, they are able to get their audience hallucinating.  That has to be it. 

Now I’m going to go find those Fritos and Mountain Dew I know are in the back of the pantry.  I’m suddenly ravenous and have cottonmouth…