No, Jon Piccaniño's office is a well-appointed home theater at the center of the Edison Institute, a foundation for expanding television's use in the educational system. And as he sits on the luxurious leather love seat he calls his "office chair," laptop computer to one side and multi-function remote on the other side, it seems to this observer that he's either a misguided genius like Murray from Riptide or the biggest scam artist since George on Seinfeld.

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Given that Piccaniño's foundation is funded by both federal grants and wealthy right-wing game show hosts, you'd probably err on the side of "scam." But if you meet Piccaniño himself, it's a lot harder to see this affable fellow as a scam artist. He's a man who legitimately believes in the healing and educational powers of television.

"My wife and I met during a Twin Peaks viewing party," he says with a smile. "My daughter was born during the Super Bowl XXVI halftime show. And now she learns about responsibility, friendship, counting, and Spanish from Dora the Explorer. Television is a positive influence in my life, and in all our lives."

It would follow that, like an out-of-control computer virus menacing the characters of Stargate SG-1, Piccaniño's goal is to expand the use of television in classrooms. His proposals have been treated by teachers' unions about as harshly as a Klingon would treat one without honor. They claim that his ultimate goal is to shut down America's public schools and educate all our youth with a series of age-specific cable and satellite TV channels.

"The people at Edison want to put teachers out of work or turn them into button pushers running a VCR," says Ginger Garrison, a spokeswoman for the National Association of Educators (NAE).

Piccaniño says that's not true, and besides which, the teachers would use TiVos rather than VCRs.

"Look, I'm not saying teachers aren't valuable," he says. "Not as such. But in local schools, they should be there in smaller numbers, to guide discussion of what's on TV. And our very best teachers would end up getting jobs in TV, either as on-air teachers on an educational channel or as behind-the-scenes workers, writing educational scripts or getting coffee for the on-air talent."

If you think Piccaniño has thought out his vision for America's schools, he has. In his new book Spare the Tube, Spoil the Idiot Child (McGraw-Hill, 2004) (also available on DVD), he lays out a TV-heavy curriculum that's even more controversial at its core than his attention-grabbing 2001 paper "Books: The Paper Menace that Threatens Our Children's Well-Being."

"Look, I know I'm open for criticism," Piccaniño says. "Groups like the NAE are going to accuse me of being a Homer Simpson type, meaning that I'm an oafish dad who isn't very bright. I prefer to think of myself as more of a Mr. Spock type, bringing logic to an irrational group of humans."

"He's a lunatic," says Garrison in a shrill voice like you'd hear during a Law & Order interrogation. "Jon Piccaniño would have our kids taught by a millionaire TV personality like Tom Brokaw rather than a talented, committed education professional making several thousand dollars a year."

"Our kids are currently taught by teachers -- 'not that there's anything wrong with that!'" Piccaniño says. "And our education system has failed. We need new ideas. The NAE can call me crazy, but I prefer to be thought of as someone who is looking at the technology we've got available to us today and assembling it into a machine that can save us from annihilation. Sort of like MacGyver."

Will Piccaniño's vision for a classroom of the future that teaches kids about democracy by screening MTV's Total Request Live, that instructs about science through Star Trek reruns and home ec via a constant feed of Food TV, come to pass? We may soon have an indication. Much to the NAE's consternation, the federal government has funded a pilot program that will broadcast English classes to students in understaffed schools in four different states.

As I leave Piccaniño's plush office, he has wise words for me, too. "That was great. You really reminded me of the crusading reporters in TV 101 and The West Wing." And yet, as I sit down to write my account of my day with Piccaniño, I can't help but feeling more like Lou Grant or that guy from The Incredible Hulk.

Either way, he's gotten his ideas into my head. Like that little beam that zaps an entire alien culture into Captain Picard's head in that episode of The Next Generation. You know the one?