I know. It’s a hard thing to say good-bye, and there’s never an easy way to say it. We’ve had some good times together, some good laughs, some reflective moments, some powerful drama. But you’ve got a problem, Aaron, and it’s this: your life does not make for good work.

Yes, I know, you think otherwise, and you convinced the people at NBC that your way is the right way. You always were persuasive. I loved that about you. But when you’re persuading people that the three day-old Big Mac that you’ve just microwaved is the same as a grassfed bison burger with heirloom tomatoes, carmelized onions and smoked gouda served on a La Brea Bakery kaiser roll…

Sorry, just thinking about lunch. Anyway, Sorkin, your show sucks ass. Studio 60 blows. The only shining point is Matthew Perry, and even I’m not buying his character anymore, simply because everything in the show is handwaving and showing. Someone who’s supposed to be as good a writer as you should have put all that behind a long time ago. Instead, we’re wallowing in your self-righteous indignation that you, Aaron Sorkin, Modern Television Prometheus, are stuck working in a medium full of brain-dead, lowest common denominator garbage that only you can save through daring, quality programming.

To which I say: you’re right. That’s why I watch The Wire on BitTorrent.

The problem, Aaron, is that you’re not delivering the goods. No, it’s that the goods you’re not delivering shouldn’t be delivered in the first place. The only people who hold up SNL as some paragon of cutting edge, dangerous entertainment were people who were most likely coked out of their minds in the 70s, going through rehab in the 80s, or too busy watching internet porn in the 90s. You want dangerous? How about Stephen Colbert giving the President and the Washington press corps the business to their faces at their own event and still being funny as hell? Can you see Lorne Michaels contemplating that?

No, you can’t. Even when you’re stoned, you can’t.

So, you have a target that isn’t worth panning or honoring, which might explain why the show-within-the-show is so weak. Or it could be that you’ve just got a poor sense of humor. Or an outdated one. I’m not sure, but I’ve yet to see any evidence that a) Matt Albie can write funny stuff, b) Harriet Hayes is a comedic genius or c) why anyone who isn’t home alone on a Friday night and tired of masturbating to scrambled cable porn would watch this sad, sad program. I mean, dude, you’ve got DL Hughley and Nate Cordry, two comedians, right there, in your cast. When are you going to use them to help write the sketches on the show?

Oh, right. I forgot. It’s so hard to be a creative genius who’s got the entire show on his shoulders. Only you can bear this great burden, because only you have the vision to bring your message to the unwashed masses. That message? As far as I can tell it’s this: “It’s a trial to be Aaron Sorkin, but it’s a cross I’m only too happy to make you bear.”

You know what clinched it for me last night? It wasn’t the continuing Mary Sue aspects (drug problem, dated Christian cast member, misunderstood genius fired from his own show, dated brittle New York columnist with a great rack), it was Sting. That’s when I realized that you are out of touch with reality. Sting, in his current incarnation as New Age tantra god, is not hip. He is elevator music. And him playing a lutes-only version of “Fields of Gold” on a show that’s supposed to be daring, bold, exciting, visionary and whatever other adjectives you’ve pasted onto your bio smacks of a man who’s out of touch and flailing about to show that he’s still Got It. Maybe you did once, but not now, dude.

The show is now all Mary Sue, all the time, and that makes it a failure, and not even a very good failure. The mistake that Mary Sue authors make is that they think their lives are interesting; ergo, an audience will also find it interesting.

No, dude. It’s ass. And I’m no longer going to watch it.

Hugs and kisses,
-A.