Ding Dong, the Truth is Dead

After 9 seasons, two-thirds of them excruciating, the X-Files is finally packing it in, and I'm not sad to see it go.

The series started off well, a mid-to-low budget paranormal mystery series, with a heavy dose of real-life conspiracy theories and other fortean phenomena. It was grounded in what was actually documented in the real world, and that was what made it compelling. Then it got popular, Chris Carter bought into his own hype and started weaving his incomprehensible and plagiarised mythology thread, Duchovny and Anderson became sex symbols, and the stories switched from being about the mystery to long lingering close-ups on the pouty faces of its protagonists and teasing the audience as to whether the two would do the beast with two backs.

I gave up on the series roughly about the time when I realized that the sadly now defunct Topps comic book based on the show had better stories than the TV show itself. Even my not-so-hidden lust for Gillian Anderson couldn't save me from dropping the piece of steaming shit the show had become.

So it's closing time on the X-Files. And good riddance.