Sweeps Stakes

The cruelest month is coming to a close, and May is soon upon us, bringing May flowers, Mother's Day (which also means, in my case, Mae's Flowers); the Triple Crown (featuring another horse that will win the first two legs this year before breaking down at Belmont);but most importantly, the season finales of all of the four commercial networks' major series.

So R.I.P. Raymond, Jag, Enterprise, Arrested Development, Committed, and other series too uninteresting to recall. Also, the next two regulars to die on "24," who will be zapped in the final "hour." (My guess here is Tony and Michelle, departing in a murder-suicide pact. I'd write off William Devane, but he has apparently vanished anyway, or may be the only character in the show to actually try to get some sleep).

What excitement remains will come from the warhorse Reality programs, four of which I've followed sufficiently closely to legitimize my opinions. They all reach their climaxes in the next few weeks, rendering the previous months as insignificant as the regular season in a professional sport. Now we're down to the play-offs. The first show to end will be "The Apprentice," whose eager candidates have been whittled down to three. I've been citing Tana as the likely winner for a long time, mostly because she has no obvious flaws, and most resembles Carolyn. She went to the boardroom for the first time last night and was almost offed by The Donald, but then gave a tempered and articulate speech about why she should remain. Tana is both likeable and a cool customer and the Donald and his cronies seem to prefer agitated people with fire in their eyes, assuming that a benign nature will undercut leadership responsibilities. Well they are going to be hard-pressed to select the condescending and mealy-mouthed Craig, who has succeeded on the womens' coattails (or dress trains, or whatever); or Kendra, who may be the smartest, but does not know how to command respect. The two finalists should be Kendra and Tana; whomever Trump chooses, Melania will approve.

"American Idol" cell phoners have whittled their choices to five fairly bland contestants. Constantine Maroulis, who is vocally the most stylish of the singers, even if his hair is the least stylish, was axed surprisingly last week. Next to go will be Anthony Federov-- who at least combs his hair-- soon to be followed by Scott Savol, whom Simon hates (probably a plus for Savol). In the end, I'm guessing Bo Bice (more bad hair) will edge out the pretty but bland Carrie Underwood and VonZell Solomon, who has gained the most momentum. However, in the scheme of things, I do not care.

"Survivor" is my favorite of all the reality shows but the one whose strategies have become so fossilized that you can see eliminations coming from the remotest continent. I did feel bad for one of the most impassioned players ever, Stephanie, who survived Ishmael-like the destruction of her entire tribe and then manuvered several weeks among the enemy before succumbing to their clannishness last night. She will certainly be considered for the next All Stars edition. I'd have liked to see a finale between her and NYC Fireman Tom, who has hero written all over him and in the Bizarro World of Survivor, Must Be Defeated. Even with all the respect and residual 9/11 good will, the Darwinian choices of his companions will eliminate him soon. Eventually it will come down to the two women--Katie and Jenn--who have been living so far under the radar that even sonar could not locate them. Too bad--the program is becoming too formulaic and predictable that way. And it is a shame that, at least since Ethan won in Australia, the most deserving candidates--the ones who really would survive--are ousted. At least "The Apprentice" has corrected that flaw to the extent that the eventual winner is usually competent.

Finally there is CBS's Emmy-winning "Amazing Race", which, despite its rich and varied production values occasionally makes questionable casting mistakes. This season it was to bring back the detestable Boston Rob (hate that cap!) and his slutty girl friend Amber, who teamed together to win $1,100,000 on "Survivor All-Stars," and whose greed is apparently unquenchable. Hey shitheads, get a job! Unfortunately they are experienced reality players, shamelss and amoral, and use their fame to recruit civilians to help them, putting the others to great disadvantage. In the end I see no way they can lose, although a victory by either the oldsters or the agreeable Ushenne (sic) and Joyce would put a brief smile on my face.

And just in case Rob and Amber falter in their quest we have been assured by the TV Gods that we will all continue in their thrall. Guess what now? We are all going to be invited to their televised nuptials! Isn't that just fucking grand? Don't you want to send them a present? Hey, how about a vial of herpes? Anything to wipe that smug grin off asshole Rob's punum. To think that his main competitor had to surivive in an Iraqi prison camp while he was flaunting--and extending implausibly--his fifteen minutes of fame is highly puke-inducing. I may even start watching the Yankees again.