Y'know what I can't stand? These stupid bumperstickers that say, "God Is My Co-Pilot." How ridiculous is this? If the people driving these cars were such devout Christians, they'd know that God can do pretty much anything He wants. I mean, He's Lord and Creator of all of us, as well as this pebble we call home, not to mention the entire frickin' universe. I'd say He's got a good handle on pretty much everything there is.

So why would He need a co-pilot?

Think about it, if you're a professional pilot, and you step into that cockpit and the Big Man Himself is sitting behind the controls, are you really gonna intrude? He's God for cryin' out loud!

And $10 says He'll do one of two things. He'll either A) smile at you thoughtfully, as if to say, "aww, how cute!" Y'know, kinda like when you were a naïve child trying to figure out how to tie a necktie so you could be more like dad. Or B) look at you rather indignantly and say, "Motherfucker, get your ass back in coach! I'm God! I've got this one covered, kid!"

Who are you to think that you’re of a similar caliber as the Good Lord? You arrogant prick. You oughta be run off the road just for insinuating such a thing.

I’d do that myself, but I’m not gonna. I’m relatively certain God’s already got your number. And He’s gonna be mighty pissed that you think of yourself that highly.

My advice to you: bend over and say your prayers.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

First off, I gotta pay my respects to one of the central focuses of my last post, the Man in Black himself, Mr. Johnny Cash. I think we all knew he wasn’t long for this world, but that cannot take away from his contributions. He’ll be missed.

Now, onto the matters at hand…

Have you noticed that everyone has their own talk show now? Seriously. Dear reader, I think it’s only a matter of time before you and I have our own talk shows. All we need to do is have a five-minute cameo in a moderately popular film in which we steal the scene. We’ll catch the eye of some half-wit producer from some lackluster cable station, and within a matter of seconds we’ll be signing a contract for our own talk show.

Can you smell the excitement? ‘Cause I can’t.

Folks, who wants a talk show? Seriously, are they even entertaining anymore? Save the almighty holy trinity of late night hosts (Letterman, O’Brien, Leno), the talk show is a dead art form, case closed. And even I have to admit that none of those guys are as funny as they were 5-10 years ago.

OK, let’s clear something up first. There are two divisions of the modern talk show. The first is entertainment-based. That is to say, shows that focus around celebrities, television, film, music, and various newsmakers. The second is shock-based. These are focused on trashy people in clothes that are way too tight bitching about how their mom slept with their boyfriend while neglecting their 900-pound obese brother and his 7-year-old out of control daughter who beat up the handicapped kid with the bizarre skin disorder at school.

I’m focusing on the former, not the latter. Stay with me here and please bear right at the fork in the road, lest ye want to be knee-deep in Mauryworld. What the hell kinda name is “Maury,” anyway? If you really hate your child, name him or her “Maury.” Heck, my mother named one of her garden gnomes “Maury” once, and a week into his stay at El Casa de Rico, he had an unfortunate encounter with a ball peen hammer. Sad, really. Moving along…

Now these talk shows can, based on their nature, be aired at almost any given point during the day. Early morning, mid-day, late afternoon, late night, late late night, hell, there’s a talk show for every meal of the day including in-between snackfests. But why? Do we really obsess over watching these shows so much?

An aside, in an upcoming post I will list the ten best programs on TV and why. Back to this post, already in progress.

I mean, look at some of the hosts. These are not superstars with major talents a la Letterman or O’Brien, let alone the almighty Carson. These are Hollywood Squares alumni who are too big for their britches.

I mean, does Caroline Rhea need a show? What gives her the right to take over Rosie O’Donnell’s spot? Not that I ever felt Rosie was anything special, but Caroline Rhea is a supporting cast member on Sabrina The Teenage Witch. Hardly what I’d call a barnburner of a television show. Or Jesse Ventura? Jesse, good wrestler, better commentator, quasi-joke of an actor, questionable governor, lets keep your resume limited to those items alone, OK? Or what about Wayne Brady? He’s the guy who improvises songs on the spot on Whose Line Is It Anyway? He’s a good-looking cat with a decent singing voice. But he is not as funny as Ryan Stiles or Colin Quinn, period. Hell, the fucking 7-Up guy has his own show! Orlando Jordan hasn’t even had a hit movie yet! Let’s see, The Time Machine, Evolution, and that horrible horrible film with Eddie Griffin. Oh, yeah. This guy is a superstar in every sense of the word. Hocking soda will only get you so far. Hell, I’m sure if Clara Peller hadn’t been so old during her “where’s the beef” days, she’d have wound up with her own talk show.

And now we’ve got Sharon Osbourne. Now Sharon, I give her credit for A) getting her husband straightened out, and B) being a savvy businesswoman. But the entire Osbourne clan has given into every Hollywood tabloid cliché possible. With the exception of Ozzy himself (who is too loveably brain dead to know otherwise), not a one of them is innocent. Heck, if I ever get together in a band and want it to be a big hit, all I’ll do is date Kelly Osbourne. Hey, sometimes a man has to get his hands dirty. Whatever pushes units, right?

So what is gonna separate Sharon’s show from anyone else’s? Probably nothing. Is she gonna put her own spin on things? Most likely. Will she cuss like a sailor? Undoubtedly. Will it be fresh and innovative? Hardly. Eventually, it will fall to every other tired cliché imaginable. I think this is why I hate television so much. There’s barely anything on that I haven’t already seen in some shape or form. And I’m not talking reruns, I’m talking cleverness, good writing, good characters, good hosts, etc. I feel truly sorry for Jimmy Kimmel, as I find the man truly funny. He is unfortunately handcuffed by the brass at ABC for his brand of comedy. A shame, really, ‘cause he’s got potential to be the next big thing in late night. If only he could’ve landed a gig at HBO.

Hell, word has it that Britney Spears and Jennifer Lopez are in talks for their own talk shows. Folks, these two “supertalents” have gone from useless singers to useless actresses to soon-to-be useless talk show hostesses in a matter of four years. Granted, now that these two gems are no longer engaged or don’t have any hot 40-year-old women to make out with, they probably have a lot of free time on their hands.

Look, lemme sum it up for you nicely folks. Any day that Michael Essany, a 20-something no-name from Buttfuck, Generica USA can land an hour-long show on E!, it sets a dangerous precedent.

Anyone can get their own talk show. Anyone.

So with that in mind, I present to you a list of five individuals whom I would like to see host a talk show in the near future.

Kevin Smith. Aside from being wonderfully crass, the man is also brutally honest. You need look no further than Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back or the ill-fated Clerks cartoon to know that he pulls no punches, and has it in for celebrities. Not even his pal Ben Affleck is safe at all times. Moreover, the man is painfully intelligent, which would provide for a spectacularly enlightening show. His biting witticisms are off the cuff and hilarious.

Lewis Black. Saw the man live once, nearly ruptured my spleen laughing. I swear, you wanna talk about a guy who hates everyone, Lewis is that guy. No one is safe, period. Not Starbucks, not the president, not celebrities, not your mom. Just have an ample supply of black coffee and cigarettes on hand for the host of the moment. He’ll fly through ‘em.

Zakk Wylde. Zakk is completely unfiltered with no apologies whatsoever. Half the show would be him chugging beer, shredding on the “buzzsaw” and chugging more beer. Throw in the occasional live performance by the in-house band, Zakk’s own Black Label Society. Frequent guests would be Dimebag Darrell, Jerry Cantrell, Mike Piazza and Rob Zombie. If that’s not a winning combination, I don’t know what is. Hell, Fuse would eat that shit up and ask for seconds.

Henry Rollins. I think few things would be as entertaining as watching Henry Rollins psychologically dismantle half-hearted, weak-minded guests on a daily basis. I mean, c’mon. Can’t you just picture the man decimating Jewel for her recent “efforts” in the music business? Or maybe having an arm-wrestling match with Glenn Danzig. This thing’s got money written all over it.

George Carlin. If you really need me to explain this one, I don’t want you visiting this site again. Ever. The man is comedy’s answer to God, understand? Not only is he one of the longest active comedians around, but he’s also the funniest. Period. He says the things that no one else is willing to, and for that reason alone, I laud the man. Television is just aching for a dose of Carlin.

Until the time that any or all of those guys get their own shows, I don’t feel like I’m missing much by working in the morning or going to bed early at night. If I’m to be entertained, I first must be impressed, and quite frankly, the average talk show just doesn’t cut it anymore. Think of this as my “Dr. Phil” dose of advice to the industry: stop looking for the next pseudo-celebrity to be a talk show host and just stick with what works. Trust me, ratings will follow. If you build it, they will come. Case closed.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.