Don't you hate it when people repeat everything you say? Then you just might hate John From Cincinnati, a new HBO drama that has arrived just in time to ride out the waves left by The Sopranos (The question is, can it make any of its own?)

In the second episode, the titular character, John Monad (played by Austin Nichols from Ann Arbor), takes great pains to copy the sounds coming from the bathroom stall next to his. He then proceeds to follow the poor, unsuspecting extra over to the sink, where he washes his hands by example. Rest assured, the mimicry doesn't end or begin there. The question is, will the audience follow? (The audience will follow.)

Follow what, you ask? On the surface, it would appear to be an irritatingly bizarre tale of a world-class dysfunctional surfer family that has traded in the thrill of chasing waves for that of shooting up drugs and fighting for control over everyone else.

The three generations of Yosts are royalty to everyone except each other in the small border town of Imperial Beach, Calif. Mitch, the grandfather, was the original champ until a knee injury took him out of the running. His son, Butchie, went on to "revolutionize" the sport while overly cultivating his bad-boy image, resulting in a wicked-bad drug addiction. Thirteen-year-old Shaun, on the other hand, still has his entire future to look forward to — a future that both Mitch and Butchie vow will not include professional surfing. There's also the supportive grandmother (Rebecca De Mornay), the part-shark, part-dolphin agent (Luke Perry), neutral family friend (Ed O'Neill), resident surf pro (Keala Kennelly) and many other random characters to add flavor and confusion.

Enter John, a mild-mannered young man who — when not repeating others' words — spurts out non-sequiturs such as "the end is near" and "Mitch Yost needs to get back in the game." Suddenly, people begin to float off of the ground, and pet parakeets rise from the dead.

What's the deeper meaning underlying this whole mess? Stay tuned and keep your fingers crossed, or just run outside and hang ten with your own bad self. Oh, wait. This is Washington. There's nowhere decent to surf here. What was I thinking? (That's right. This is Washington.)