Well, campers, here we are at the end of Season 1 of John from Cincinnati, a ten-episode trip into the weird and wild world of Imperial Beach, California. A place where the sun shines yet people shield themselves from the light. A place where its most famous family is also its most dysfunctional. A place into which God sent a messenger, along with a symbol, to let them know the end was near.

The penultimate episode of John From Cincinnati was marked more by absence than actual presence: namely, the absence of the titular character and Shaun Yost, He Of The Incredibly Healing Spine. Most shows wouldn't have the instincts nor the narrative guts to pull its two central characters off this late in the season, but then again, most shows aren't John From Cincinnati.

Prophecies are tricky things. They are at once accessible and inscrutable: the words in and of themselves register, but the meaning behind those words is often elusive. This dichotomy was at the heart of tonight's episode of John From Cincinnati, in which the words "Shaun will soon be gone" formed the backbone that held up the hour-long episode.

Before starting tonight's recap of John from Cincinnati in earnest, I'd first like to thank you all for the overwhelming response to last week's review. The mud was big, the stick was big, the Internet was big, and your responses were big. Huge, even. Fifty-six comments and counting. Clearly, last week's episode struck a nerve with you as it did with me, and I enjoyed all of your feedback.

OK, I'm supposed to recap that? Honestly, John from Cincinnati, throw me a bone here. Honestly. Because as loopy as you've been these past few weeks, I've ridden the wave, pun intended, of your narrative. I've stood by you all these weeks, proclaiming your greatness to the masses, feeling like a girl trying to convince her guy friend to go on a date with her friend with a "really great personality." It's been hard, John from Cincinnati, but I've done it.

A typical day spent with my grandmother involves picking her up, slowly getting her into my car, driving her up to my Mom's, helping her onto the couch, and then spending a few hours making sure she's got everything she needs: finger foods, ice cubes added to her zinfandel, inclusion in the overall conversation. What I'm saying is this: my Nana doesn't spend her typical day running around, yelling, screaming, and checking to make sure her handgun's fully loaded in case her grandson's porn-star mother dares try to see him.

Before starting this week's recap of John From Cincinnati, I'd like to acknowledge expert reader/commenter Christian. Christian's keen eye caught that last week's "Imperial Beach Burning" affected all things metal. Christian gets my first weekly "Golden Surfboard Award" for the best comment made on the boards.

It took three episodes, but finally someone said the "m" word tonight on John from Cincinnati. No, the "m" word isn't "marriage"...I'm not recapping The Bachelor or anything here. The "m" word in question is "miracle." I had my money on this word not appearing until Episode 7 in my office pool, so I guess this is not why I'm a gambling man at heart.

Some television's meant to be a passive experience, one of those "in the background" elements that makes up the geography of a room. It's there, amidst the coffee tables and couches and rugs and lamps, taking up some bit of space in the overall ecosphere. It's not more or less important than any of these other things, but sort of sits among them as an egoless contributor to the ambiance.

On the heels of last week's preview of John From Cincinnati, we take a look at a show that is almost as strange, but slightly more accessible -- Showtime's Meadowlands -- about a British witness protection program that might be even more of a punishment than staying in the real world. Continue reading »