Rosenbush Café

As an avid fan of the intelligent British science fiction series I am keen to accept time travel. While reviewing the past season I realized why American Television is so bad: no intellectual ponderings, here mate. Cor blimey, when will these blokes stop re-envisioning the same inane ideas so often it makes migraines seem like a full body massage with sandpaper and jet fuel.

The episodes are always intense, dry wit-driven (“Blimey, I’d blush, if I had a blood supply.” Amy’s Choice), profound, sweet, sad, exciting and written by scribes who know what the photon they are doing with a time-honored programme that has lasted longer than any science fiction show in television history and makes me realize why “The X-Files” was only good for a year: cliff hanger UFOlogy treated like “Project Bluebook” if written by Paddy Chayefsky but alas written by people with no concept of audience expectations. “Oh, no…the government is covering up everything, Scully.” If Mulder had just taken a day off, gotten a bag of potent Columbian and taken his partner on the ferris wheel at Coney Island maybe more of us who have given a Calfornication.

Even the Daleks and Cybermen have more pleasant personalities and talent than, say, Charlie Sheen. “EXTERMINATE” and “DELETE” Lady Gaga, although she could play an alien without special effects. Aaah, now I understand David Bowie’s “Loving the Alien!” At least he looked fab in drag. Ziggy’s Spiders from Mars should return and wrap this cavacade of misfits, posing as artists, into a silken web for midnight snacks.

Any room for all those talentless nitwits whose only claim to fame is shrieking “Woe is me” while balancing their checkbooks?

My imagination, my rule; I’ll make room.

I have 61 cents in mine today and I am a happy to have a positive balance with the attitude and my flair for nilhism and tenacity in the face of reverse intellectual pomposity. Or, so I am told by my inner child, Mr. Figment.

I am working on my own faux off the planet series, which satirizes everything from the CSI Franchises to Ice Road Truckers. Look for Happiness Jack and the Reefer Patrol coming in April. No Fools.

First up: Horatio Caine and the Miami CSIs must investigate a string of gruesome “inside-out” murders by Pinhead and the Cenobites from Clive Barker’s “Hellraiser,” who are loose in South Beach after drinking far too many mojitos at The Shore Club.

Other Programming includes:

Animal Planet actually visiting a world populated by peaceful co-existing animals, sans the human variety; IRT facing their toughest challenge when they must deliver truckloads of Martha Stewart housewares to kim jong il; Godzilla finally comes to FOX with a program about a 50-foot radioactive prehistoric lizard that undergoes a transsexual operation and the mayhem that ensues when her silicone implants implode in downtown Los Angeles; and Lisabeth Salander (from Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy) joins the cast of “Criminal Minds” to teach these jaded criminal profilers how to deal with men who hate women.

Not available on U-Verse, Dish TV, DirecTV, Comcast, Charter or YouTube…only at the Café.

This will never happen because it would quickly go from thrilling to mundane in a nanosecond and even The Doctor, who admits “Time can be re-written,” knows Rod Serling’s doppelganger isn’t going to conjure a scenario to attract H.P. Lovecraft and Jane Austen to join Julia Childs and Hunter S. Thompson, from the cosmic dust bowl, for my version of “Dead Survivors.” Bet on Hunter, who was always armed and high on chemicals, but I’m certain Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos would do better, mate. Few know Austen dabbled in white and black magic and Childs always put something extra in the sauce.