With that came a great discovery. I had never thought that what usually could bore, frustrate or infuriate me to tears can be quite entertaining when watched with witty pals, potato chips and orange soda.
We had a great time discussing who "Ai Terk" (Balding Jerk) may have been. Our conclusion was Samak made this one up. Simple logic: If he is breaking every national security law of the land and his identity is so clear, why doesn't Samak arrest him? A possible explanation is the guy is too powerful to arrest. But then again, can such a powerful man who is beyond the arms of the law be easily ridiculed on TV, even by a prime minister?
All in all, if "Ai Terk" is real, Samak is unforgivably irresponsible if he fails to take action against someone found to be planning to sabotage a democratic government. Or he is being dangerously paranoid on the verge of dictatorship if "Ai Terk" is simply exercising his fundamental right to talk to people. In both cases, he's simply unfit to rule.
Samak is neither negligent nor dictatorial, we concluded. But why did he make it up? How many more times do we have to hear "Ai Terk's" name on TV? And can we sue Samak for causing us long-lasting trauma with a tale of a political psycho too powerful to be put in jail lurking and recruiting everyone from top military officers to junior newsroom staff?
Well, just as we can get our money's worth watching trashy movies and manage to laugh at the holes in their plots, too much questioning of Samak's motives can make us overlook his programme's entertainment values. It's in fact a privilege to have a national leader tell us conspiracy theories and keep us on the edge of our seat week in and week out.
If America could tell the world about weapons of mass destruction that have never been found, our prime minister has every right to terrify his own citizens with unsubstantiated stories about coups and political sedition unfolding at every corner. And before you lambast his "unconvincing" acting, remember practice will make perfect.
We used to be exasperated and anxious because we took Samak too seriously. It's not written down anywhere that every Thai prime minister has to publicly give "October 6" a respectable death toll, or cannot say local banks are doomed, only to deny having said it the next day. And there is no law prohibiting a prime minister from declaring himself somebody's "nominee" and flip-flopping about that announcement for fun.
To be fair to Samak, even popcorn and Coke would not have helped Chuan Leekpai's weekly TV talk if he had returned to power.
October 6? "You'll have to look at the documents." Local banks unhealthy? "I have yet to see the reports." Will you dissolve Parliament? "It depends on what happens in the future."
So, next time you watch Samak, gather a few friends, set up a barbecue stove as well as have someone bring a case of beer. And, this is quite important, you can add to the fun by speculating what new appendageswill be used as new clues. First it was an "invisible hand", and now it is a "balding head", so the next hint must be forthcoming.
All set and you will be rewarded with something intriguing and perhaps hilarious. Okay, we can't expect a statement such as "Everybody is out to get me because I'm trying to change the Constitution to serve my master", but how the same information is told in a different way will be worth your time and preparation.
Not every world leader - democratic or dictatorial - is capable of sending every government critic with a receding hairline scrambling to the mirror every time he goes on air. Some of those who match Samak's description must have received phone calls from worried relatives and friends. I know a columnist who is now answering every call with, "It isn't me, you fool."
An acting coach would ruin the weekly TV show, my friends and I decided. Of course, Samak might be better off discussing the "Ai Terk" conspiracy with the "Us or them" solemnity of George W Bush, but there is such a thing as "so bad it's good", and that's what we are talking about here.