Well color me unimpressed with the fall television season so far.

I just spent the most collosal waste of time tonight. And in a week where I was pretty much the only one at work, that's saying alot. I devoted an hour of my life to the series premiere of Freakylinks, the new show by some of the creators of the similarly over-hyped "Blair Witch Project." Yikes. They couldn't have thunk-up a more pedestrian show if Fox said, "Give us a Generation X show like the X-Files (now in its 31st season) but do some cool internet element, like how you freaked out the world with that Blair Witch thing last year."

Oh, and of course the main character (who's searching for his lost twin brother named Samantha who was abducted by aliens during a particularly rowdy game of Sorry with the one survivor of the Roanoak Settlement), this main character has to use a little digital video camera so they can insert footage in the final show, once again, a la Blair Witch. These guys are taking their one idea and stretching it thin. Really thin.

The only thing I found interesting about the show was the liberal peppering of the word "Fearsome" ... as the pilot's original title was just that, "Fearsum" (you might remember ads during the spring hawking the show under it's original title). Every twenty minutes or so one of the actors would growl the word out. I expected Pee Wee Herman to bounce on-screen and announce it the word of the day.

As for James Cameron's Dark Angel, well, the only thing I found interesting was young Jessica Alba. And to put it nicely, it's not because of her acting skills that I find myself so enthralled.

Can someone explain the universe in which this show is based? A nuclear bomb, sometime in the near future, fries all electronics. The world is crippled, and now lives in poverty, filfth, grime, and other ripped off elements of Blade Runner. (Well, without the rain, thank God.) Yet, in this post-apocalyptic world, they still have telephones. And laundromats. And beer. And kick-ass motorcycles. And those little trendy yellow rectangle sunglasses that I detest ever so much. What's the damn deal?

Granted, Jessica Alba does look the part of genetically created beauty. Eyes, nose, mouth, lips, skin. Alas, if only they had included a little Meryl Strep in her genes. Maybe a little Susan Sarandon. Heck, Jack Lemmon. Someone with some acting skills. Nope. She tries, bless her purty little heart. But the acting thing is beyond her genetic material. Too bad, she was wonderful in "Never Been Kissed". How the Academy passed over her for Best Supporting Actress is byond me.

But don't get me wrong, I have been into some tee-vee so far this year. Per usual, Buffy the Vampire Slayer is top notch, although the first show's Dracula thing was a little weak. Whatever. The show will survive.

And last night I caught the series premiere of Gilmore Girls on the WB. Cute. A sweet little character driven show about the twisted relationship between mother and daughter. It's fresh, something different. (Especially for T & A Teen frenzy WB). Ten bucks says it's gone by Thanksgiving. Unless, of course, it gets swallowed by that "Providence" audience that I just don't comprehrend at all. I figured that show for a goner, too, and it florished. But what do I know? I liked "Misfits of Science" (in 1984) and "Quantum Leap".

Alas, we have a full month before the season openers of such Sunday night staples as "The X-Files" (season 31 starts with geriactric Mulder falling out of his wheelchair and blaming it on gnomes), "The Simpsons" and my new fav, "Futurama." Until then, I guess I'll have to watch Jessica Alba and Eathan Embry fight the future.

Where's "Big Brother" when you need it ...?

- Josh Edwards