HBO’s “John From Cincinnati”, the show that was supposed to make us forget “The Sopranos”, “Deadwood”, and “Rome”, or at least forgive the fact that they’re gone, concluded its disastrous ten week run last night. Because it was on HBO and I’m a loyal man, I suffered through every episode.

Series creator David Milch, the man who gave us the excellent but derivative “NYPD Blue” and the far excellenter and completely original “Deadwood” described “John From Cincinnati” this way:

“If God were trying to reach out to us, and if he felt a certain urgency about it . . . that’s what it’s about. The wave . . . is the only visible embodiment of what physicists tell us all matter is composed of, which is particles held together by some kind of magnetic or molecular force. And that’s what makes the waves move. And if God were trying to reach out to us, and teach us something about the deepest nature of matter, he might use some drugged-out surfers.”

Sounds great, no? Believe it or not, the show was even worse than Milch’s description. Maybe this was an exercise on HBO’s part to prove that they can put any piece of pretentious drivel on at Sunday at 9:00, the slot “The Sopranos” revolutionized TV from, and their subscribers will still watch it.

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