THE GREAT GADFLY:

Must Pee TV

Well, you know me. I couldn't come up with a thing. So I just curled up in a corner and told her I'm a walking lie and I have no right referring to myself as "creative", and that she taunts me by being nice to me and please go away and stop looking at me.

Then later on, as I was soaking in a nice, warm vibrating foot-bath and listening to Enya, wouldn't ya know it - I gots me some ideas.

So I hope my friend at the TV place will give me a second chance, even though I threw a whole box of Wheat Thins at her and insisted that she never come near me ever again or else I'd set myself on fire. Sometimes I get in a huff over nothing.

Oh, and here's them tee-vee ideas what I done came up with:

Tony Orlando & Don

It's about time the gays had a variety show, and 2003 is it. Take the retro kitsch of Tony Orlando & Dawn and add a really hot male stripper in a thong (named Don), and there you have it. "Queer As Folk" meets "That '70s Show", by way of "Sonny & Cher" and "The Crying Game"! The test footage shot for this show is promising. After performing a rousing duet of Mary J. Blige's "Deep Inside", Mr. Orlando, standing tall in his velvet tuxedo, gives the oiled and speedo-clad Don a disapproving sideways glance and says, "ya know, Don, I don't really dig your type. I like dames." To which Don replies, "oh yeah? Well how do you like THIS?" At which point he wildly humps a camera as Tony breaks into a soft-shoe routine. Good stuff, man. Good stuff.

Robert Altman's "24"

I saw the latest episode of "24" last night and nearly went into some major palpatations. Lord knows Kiefer Sutherland's gotta be tired. So let's give the cast and crew of this show a break from the non-stop flaming airplane crashes, hacksawed shoulderblades, and flares shot into people's chests, shall we? For a mere couple of midseason episodes, let a refined master of cinema - Robert Altman - take over. A typical episode would look like this: 11:01:23: Lily Tomlin sits on a sofa, working on a crossword puzzle. She does not know a seven letter word for "garnet-like". She is vexed. It is very tense. 11:04:11: Shelly Duvall and Sissy Spacek are on a hiking trip. Shelly is very excited about a tuna-melt recipe she found in a magazine. Sissy is mildly annoyed, but says nothing. Shelly continues talking as they climb the trail, pontificating about the differences between lemon yellow and mustard yellow. Sissy quietly fumes. 11:17:05: Dame Maggie Smith is inspecting her dining room with a white silk glove. She feels uneasy, as if something terribly improper might be going on under her nose. She continues searching the room for unsightly creases. 11:22:59: Jeff Goldblum sorts through underwear drawer, sorting out old underpants to discard. He has meant to do this for several months. Now he has time. Every second counts. 11:48:39: Linda Hunt sits at vanity with tub of cold cream and stack of towelettes. She is removing her make-up. Strong sense of foreboding. She stops, suddenly. Realizes she forgot to feed her cats. Curses her own forgetfulness. 11:59:59: Richard Gere looks in freezer for midnight snack of "One Sweet Whirrled" ice cream. The container is empty. There is, however, an untouched carton of spumoni in freezer. How did it get there?

Everybody Loves Appollonia 6

Look, I'm just saying that if you got rid of that Ray Romano guy and replaced him with a reunited Appollonia 6, I would watch the show. They could play the same character, only instead of some schlubby-schmoe looking guy, there'd be three new-wave purple-paisley divas in lace teddies playing the role. And come on. You know it's true: Everybody really DOES love Appollonia 6. I've seen the survey results.

The World According To Crispin

Same as above, but since I'm on a roll, let's oust that windbag Belushi and bring in the Hellion himself, Mr. Crispin Glover. I think it would go over like wildfire. I already have a pilot episode written, called "I DON'T WANT TO GO OUTSIDE", and I have a fabulous idea for an hour-long special episode, chocked full of guest stars, where Crispin attempts to fill an ice cube tray without having a psychotic episode. We've already gotten Kelly Ripa to play the voice of the taunting baby spider living in Crispin's thigh. Smells Like Great Ratings!

American Idle

I think in 2003, less is going to be more. These kids on this show and their prefabricated, sacchariney soccer-mom mall ballads, I don't know, it's just not going to fly with the public by the end of the year. So here's my idea. Let's make this show truly The People's Talent Show, and put a stereo and a beat-up La-Z-Boy recliner up on stage, and simply turn on a radio station and let contestants sit around on stage and hum along if they like, get into the music and do a little foot shuffle in the chair if they want to, and if not, that's fine too. They can just, you know, go fix themselves a sandwich or something. It's a talent show for the Reality TV generation, you see. This sort of Brechtian, minimalist avant garde approach is going to finally hit the mainstream this year, I can feel it. We need judges who will be able to aptly judge such performances. We'll get Anna Nicole, maybe an Osbourne or two, perhaps Coolio shall be involved. Yes...

Celebrity Watersports

Hosted by Karen Finley. "OOOOH, cuz nothin' says fame like takin' a big ol' steaming pee on Carrot Top, mama-mama!" (Merchandising tie-ins could be huge on this one. Sega won't leave us alone.)

My Crazy Racist Dad

Keeping with the trend of sitcoms involving a schlubby, clumsy father character married to an out-of-his-league hot woman and featuring cantankerous, street-smart "ain't-they-cute" offspring, this show offers a slightly topical, "edgy" twist - Dad's a racist! That's right, and it's TV's CLUMSIEST, most LOVEABLE aryan warrior yet! The pilot involves a wacky mix-up when Rolf (the Dad) is getting ready for his first big Klan meeting, and he realizes Wifey made his first official Kostume...out of the kids' Pokemon sheets! D'oh!!! (Ol' Dirty Bastard has already signed on to portray the wacky "neighborhood mailman" who visits while Dad's at work).

Hello, Saddie

This is a great idea for a reality TV series where we comb the country looking for the saddest people alive, then put them all in a house together, where a PA system pumps a constant soundtrack of The Cure, Nine Inch Nails, and Melissa Manchester's "Don't Cry Out Loud" in every room - just to keep the tears a-flowin'. The twist of the show is that we say the person who can stay in the Sad House the longest wins ten million dollars - yet when it's over, we give the surviving contestant NOTHING. Not even a damn ticket home. Moral of the show (and tentative tagline): You Don't KNOW Sad. We're talking to Rip Taylor and that Dashboard Confessional guy about coming on as co-hosts.

Julien Donkey-Boy: The Series

Harmony Korine's bizarre, wildly uncommercial film about a paranoid schizophrenic, his dysfunctional siblings, and his dispassionately abusive German father need not wither in obscurity - I say if a movie can be made about a family, no matter how disturbing, it can always be worked into a weekly series! Udo Kier is very into taking over the evil father role originated by Werner Herzog, and we're already working on memorable dialog: "You filthy whoring dilettantes. You'll put on these raccoon costumes and solve this bagful of dirty used Rubik's cubes by dinnertime, or else Grand-me-mama and I shall turn the cold hose on all of you. I'll not have losers in my house. Only WINNERS. And no moody brooding." Each episode will end with a montage of the family playing pinball together and performing a Hall & Oates song, a capella. We're already working on marketing a t-shirt that says "I'm No Moody Brooder". It's going to be bigger than Mork.