One of the latest and greatest injustices of the world . . .television world . . . my world is that the single best program (both of comedy and drama) ever to hit the airwaves is stopped dead before the surfing is properly ended, I'm talking they're not even giving us a touch once alive again 60 seconds . . .I'm talking about my most beloved Pushing Daisies being touched twice, dead forever off the air by the heartless heartlessnesses at American Broadcasting Company, may they feel guilt for the rest of their lives for uprooting the sweetest flower in the desolate garden of modern tv programing. I watch the last remaining episodes, knowing that it is all terminal, soon I will have to bid farewell to my weekly visits to The Pie Hole that actually makes me, a pie fence sitter, want a piece, and to the hystericalness of Emerson Cod, the witty zingers of Olive Snook, Aunt Lily's eye patch, Chuck's inspiring wardrobe and most of all . . .sniff and sad sigh, to Ned, the single most precious human male to be created by tv writers. My only source of comfort, as small and insignificant as it may be, is that They are talking about making a movie. If this is the case, at least I can own a slice of the most real yet fanciful bit of lovely . . .if it is not, I shudder at the thought.
Oh woe to me, if only NBC, who believes in shows, had picked Pushing Daisies.