The ten o'clock hour on Sunday nights was made for mystery and blistering works of imagination and hardline poetic reality .. For the fifty and above , writers that have felt the fire and burdened their share at the crux of painful sentiment , walked the streets of purgatory on many a lonely night and lived to tell it about .. People that can pick out hidden meaning from ******* , that know the difference between love and tantric *** , ones that have learned to hide their cotton candy soul within a steel resolve , writers with bone dry eyes and little time for Friday night teenage angst wannabe jargon !