I'll confess to occasionally watching Crappy KOFY Time, strictly because I'm a "leg man" who never gets tired of ogling the gorgeous, alabaster gams of Scarlet von Harlet. This particular minx is a member of the "Cave Girls," an awfully skanky duo -- sometimes trio -- of nubile nymphets who provocatively undulate, pole-dance, and bump 'n grind in between clips of "creepy" horror flicks. The Cave Girls make pneumatic provocateurs such as Vampira and Elvira look like prudish nuns, by comparison. Regarding the Crappy hosts: strictly from hunger. This vulgar show ain't your father's (or grandfather's) "Creature Features."

Not quite as bad but certainly nothing to howl about is Chiller Drive-In, hosted by "Wolfman Mac." This moronic shlock recently began airing on Comcast (or maybe it's been broadcast for quite a while; I only recently discovered it). After watching one episode -- during which The Ghost (the stylish sequel to the even more stylish The Horrible Dr. Hichcock) was childishly trashed -- I couldn't help but wonder: w-h-y are horror films treated this way (demeaned, disrespected, "sent up") on television? Thus has it ever been, from Zacherley to Elvira.

Why can't horror films be accorded the same respectful, reverential treatment that, say, westerns are? IMO, westerns fans are the luckiest, gol-durned cusses on God's green earth, TV-wise. You don't see a costumed nitwit-host with an idiotic moniker such as "Ol' Buffalo Chips" kidding the fare presented on The Encore Westerns channel, the programmers of which admirably respect both the genre and TV audience (most of who are probably reactionary NRA members who might be inclined to "give 'em both barrels" if "funny" fart sound effects were added to a John Wayne oater, I reckon).

To me, the flagrantly sleazy Crappy KOFY Time and annoyingly puerile Chiller Drive-In exemplify the lamentable, deplorable, and depressing state of American (you should pardon the expression) popular culture. Granted, producers and programmers have, by and large, routinely, shamelessly catered to the "lowest common denominator" since the birth of network TV. But it seems to me that with each passing year, with each new generation, that denominator alarmingly gets lower and lower.

. . . as also (distressingly, perilously, thrillingly) does the décolletage on scantily clad horror film hostesses.