Letter from the TVWW Mailbag -- One Contributor Writes a Reader about... ME?

[Bianculli here: It's getting nuts around here. First Eric Gould writes a column about a Lady Gaga video. Then I write an open column, addressed to Eric, challenging him to review three more videos, and selecting them for him as a dare. Then one of our readers writes in, good-naturedly questioning my psychological stability in selecting those videos. And then another of of our contributors, Tom Brinkmoeller, replies to that reader with what amounts to a column about...ME. This is where we pick up the story...]

Neil,

Though I don't know you, after reading your comments I feel obliged to share with you some suspicions about the TVWW blog's owner. Feel free to wring your hands along with me, should you wish.

I'm not so worried about what psychoanalysis might reveal about David. Nearly everyone who writes for him has been part of the four-star forced march that was known as the press tour. Spend enough enclosed time around the same group of people who are paid to sneer, and you learn that we're all damaged to the point where we'd hide from anyone who claims a knowledge of psychology. (Probably why I used to skip large blocks of the PBS portion of the tours.)

What I worry may have happened is that some V-like miniseries somehow came to life in New Jersey and what once was the singular Bianculli has been cloned into all kinds of equal shadows.

Think about it: This guy previews all kinds of programming. But he also continues to watch full episodes of series he's already reviewed, whether he liked them or not. (All of this is evident from reading his blog entries.) I sometimes try to figure out how much of my day would be eaten by such video vigilance. I waffle on a final answer, but most days I think trying to duplicate just these things would eat up more than a third of my day.

If that were all, my suspicions would be crazy. But this entity claiming to be David Bianculli also writes books, sometimes freelances, teaches, does network radio work, plays tennis, makes frequent trips to medical specialists, is proud father to two accomplished offspring and participates in mundane things like opening mail and cooking. Not microwaving. I have been told of omelets, sauces, sushi and other fine meals. And once a year he cleans his office.

And he travels. Call his cell and you'll usually reach him. But hardly ever in New Jersey. Once he was running through the L.A. Farmers Market, in search of a TV Guide. He's been in Colorado for a weekend. He goes to Italy for film festivals and Australia to watch whales. Does anyone know the complete itinerary?

But think: With all the viewing he does, plus all the other things he is known to take part in, the day starts to look like 50 pounds of air in a 20-pound tire. One person can't do all that.

When I was growing up in Cincinnati, the local gas and electric company named all of its customer-service reps Ann Holiday. No matter when you'd call, Ann would answer the phone. That was marketing to the naive. This Bianculli thing is more serious.

There is good reason to think there are many David Biancullis roaming the world as we sit in one place and do mortal tasks. They're not everywhere yet. But they're clever and they're covering their bases well. If this is true, we can only hope the FBI swoops in soon, makes a massive arrest of these print pretenders and arranges a swap with the broadcast bloc for all the Ryan Seacrest clones blanketing much of the world.

Laugh if you will at this theory. But today, when I discovered this Bianculli phenomenon also has encyclopedic knowledge of music videos from watching, I dared to go public with my theory. Before, in the back of my head, I theorized that maybe he just doesn't sleep. Can't rationalize that way anymore. The facts just pile too largely in favor of the eventual appearance of an army of Biancullis covering the earth. That in itself isn't so scary. But just think of the millions of awful puns such an army would produce.

Be wary,

Tom