RES IPSA LOQUITOR: Honestly, wasn't it a lot easier to like Emo Punk before we gave it that stupid name? As soon as I heard somebody use that term I knew that an organic tendency had grown into a plastic genre that would thereafter exuse any extreme of derivative excess or spiritless prefabrication. No, really.

As soon as I heard it called something, named by society for an industry that would market it as such, I knew that there was an "Emo Punk" cover of Peter Cetera's Glory of Love out there somewhere, and that when I found it, it would suck. Where is Screetching Weasel when you need them? ...I'd even settle for Kevin Seconds.

And sadly, I think I have to blame Green Day, who I love, for proving that this mode of punk music mass hyper-marketable. Turned it into a goddamn twinkie.

"YOU KNOW THAT GROSS JUST-BRUSHED-YOUR-TEETH-AND-THEN-DRANK-ORANGE-JUICE FEELING?" The good folks at Low Culture do, which is why they want to know: What the fuck is up with citrus flavored mouthwash and toothpaste?

Now, give me Old Bay flavored toothpaste, and I'm all over that.

(Speaking of which: anyone want to cook Herr's Old Bay Chip-Crusted Deep Fried Calamari Rings With Roasted Red Pepper Coulis?)

IN TELEVOLUTION, REALITY DATING IS THE PLATYPUS: First there was the Dating Game, then Love Connection and Studs, all shows in which people exposed their wooing, in varyingly suggestive degrees, for no other reason than brief publicity. Those shows begat Blind Date, Elimidate, Chains of Love, Dismissed, and many others, each based upon the premise that young and often extravagantly incompatible imbeciles are watchable if hot tubbing is a possibility. At some point in that line, a gene mutated and we got the deformed spectacle of desperate women on the perceived cusp of old maidhood fighting to wed a lying, unfunny, possibly menacing comic. The DNA righted itself, however, when TV realized that one minor tweak -- replacing "menacing and fake-rich" with "bland and actually rich" -- turned sad pimping into fairy-tale romance; hence the Bachelor/ette. Mad scientists, unsatisfied with this natural progression, amped up the deceit and asked: how long will we feel bad for watching women claw each other to get to a dull-witted construction worker if they think he's rich? (Answer: a couple of weeks.)

Thank goodness we didn't stop there. We now scale the heights of reality dating evolution and simultaneously plumb the depths of dignity with a show featuring alpha-male contestants competing for the affections of, and pawing at, a lovely pre-operative transsexual (link via tvtattle.com).

AND IN A VERY SPECIAL HOLIDAY EPISODE, THOM PAINTS VERTICAL STRIPES: Fighting off the shark with all its might, Queer Eye returns on November 18 with five new episodes.

I've predicted the demise of the show before, and really, hasn't all the momentum now been lost? Now that the summer's gone and there's new programming all around, does anyone still want to see Kyan tell another guy to shave slower and with the grain? To see Jai accompany others on their shopping sprees and look cute, but have nothing for himself to do?

It's kinda like ABC still broadcasting Who Wants To Be A Millionaire after we've seen someone win the million dollars. We know what they can do, and we know what it looks like. Is there anything else to see here?

FROM THE NOSTALGIA FILE: Heard, in a deli, a song I've been thinking about a lot lately but haven't heard since the early 1980s: the Beatles medley by Stars on 45. Proof positive that if you come along at the right time, you can make anyone -- American, European, or Taiwanese -- buy any load of crap you're selling.

IF SEASON TWO WAS 'TWO CATHEDRALS,' THIS SEASON IS HALF A STOREFRONT SYNAGOGUE OFF FAIRFAX NEXT TO THE 20/20 VIDEO: Of course people want off ER -- it has been tired and dull for years. The question is why we're not hearing more about people wanting off of the West Wing. TWW is populated with a lot of auction-glib actors who thrived on Sorkin's dense, textured scripts. They got a lot of lines, they got to seem smart, and they got to do a show that was at times genuinely funny in a smart way.

The only thing that can be said for this season is that it's less preachy. It also has less of everything else -- less dialogue, less intelligence, less humor. The contrivances this season -- Will typing insults into the teleprompter script; people accidentally tipping off the FBI as to the First Daughter's whereabouts -- have been embarrassing. Last night's episode hinted that it's only going to get worse as Wells replaces Sorkin's characters with robots programmed to exhibit one or two traits: Leo as Jerky Hard-Ass Boss; CJ as Idealistic Crybaby. They're already planting the seeds for depatures -- Sorkin vet Malina may be moving to the Navy Observatory; Schiff wants to quit; Janney may get fired -- and I would be surprised if the season ended without a serious loss of talent. The real question is whether anybody will be watching by then.

ROSALIND SHAYS MEMORIAL THREAD: Due to popular demand, the comments section of this post is hereby opened to anyone who wants to know about -- and discuss -- The Impending Spoiler That Will Ruin 'ER' Forever.

Click on Comments at your own risk. You've been warned.