That being said, here's my 100 PERCENT ACCURATE over-the-top sweeping blanket generalization of the week: Alias fawking STINKS!!! Now at this point, I can imagine many of my readers taking pen in hand to write, "Hold on there, Wm.™ Steven Hump-Me! How can YOU, of all people, denigrate the statuesque beauty, the keen intellect, and the sweet and juicy booty of Alias' Sydney Bristow (as played by Jennifer Garner)? Was it not YOU who once loudly proclaimed that super-spy Sydney Bristow's martial arts skills and alluring outfits make your 'chubby wanna go rubby'? I cry 'FOUL,' sir, and DEMAND that you revise your over-the-top sweeping blanket generalization, posthaste and toot sweet!"
To this I reply, "NEVER!" And while I'm at it, "Lick my racing stripe!" As usual, my over-the-top sweeping blanket generalization is 100 PERCENT ACCURATE--you just don't know it yet! Alias fawking stinks, and here's why:
(a) They've replaced one complicated story line with another. At the midpoint of last season, the Alias producers figured out that new viewers just coming to the show had no fawking idea what was going on. So they simplified the "double-cross, triple-cross" story line, but left a lot of the more complicated plot points intact (like that stoopid Milo Rambaldi character--if he's such a great inventor, maybe he can invent a way to stop boring the shit out of me).
(b) The best characters have gone MIA. Sydney's badass ex-partner Dixon used to be one of my favorite characters. Now he just sits behind a desk like a punk-ass chump. And just when her wimpy pal Will stopped being a puss and started being a MAN, they stick him in the fawking witness protection program, where he's never heard from again! And why did they kill Francie, the evil clone?!? Goddammit, I LOVED Francie, the evil clone!!
And perhaps most importantly, (c) I can't remember the last time I saw Sydney in her underpants. Back in the day, the only thing she took on a mission was a fluorescent wig, a pistol, and a bra-and-panty set. Now, ever since she's "lost her memory," it's like she's forgotten how to take off her goddamn clothes! How is my chubby supposed to want a rubby without Sydney stripping down to her skivvies?!?
Therefore! Alias fawking stinks, the Beatles eat GARBAGE, and as always, I am 100 PERCENT ACCURATE. (Give or take a fraction of a percentage point.)