I’ve posted before about how I’m finding TV a much better use of my DVD player than movies.

But I’ve been on an 80’s pop kick of late, and the nostalgia has inspired some more depressing thoughts about mortality, purposelessness, and the fact that Invasion never got renewed for a second season.

Straight up, now tell me
Do you really wanna love me forever
Oh, oh, oh
Or am I caught in a hit-and-run?
Straight up, now tell me
Is it gonna be you and me together
Oh, oh, oh
Or are you just havin’ fun?

OK, here’s my application of Paula Abdul to television serials. I don’t care how good you are. You can hire no one but writers as talented as Jane if such can be found. It won’t matter. If all you’re going to do is put together an immense build-up to a cliff hanger ending, and then leave me hanging until I forget about it so you can do it all again to me after the summer, I’m going to stop watching TV. Period.

I’m not claiming, by the way, that Invasion, or Surface, were as good as, say, Lost, or Prison Break. But not everything can be that good. Or, if in theory you could reach the point where you have discovered enough quality shows to have a perfect lineup for every night, you will by then have dumped so many shows and destroyed the viewing expectations of so many fans, that no one will be watching any more.

But does anyone have an incentive to think that far ahead for the sake of a network? How long do executives stay with such a corporation before moving on?