I will leave it up to licensed professionals to decide whether Phillip C. McGraw, best-selling author and host of the insta-hit "Dr. Phil," is worth his salt as a therapist. But in my opinion, "Dr. Phil" (3 p.m. weekdays, Channel 9) is the greatest thing to happen to daytime TV since Jerry Springer. True, McGraw's guests tend to stay in their seats and speak in a manner that does not require constant bleeping. "Dr. Phil's" audience is better dressed and behaved than the "Jer-ry, Jer-ry" chanting crowd. But not since Jerry Springer hired an off-duty cop to keep his guests from maiming each other has one person so effectively converted other people's problems into televised entertainment and then into personal stardom. "Dr. Phil" is off to a fast start and could soon approach the rating heights of his former client, Oprah Winfrey, whose show was the launchpad for his. And why not? Brassy, funny and brimming with more cornpone wisdom than Dan Rather, McGraw is a hoot to watch. What's more, unlike most daytime food fights, nobody gets hurt on his show, though whether the unhappy couples are healed by their encounters with the tough-lovin' Texan is another matter. Unlike the fading Laura Schlessinger, McGraw learned to stop taking himself and his profession so seriously. In the introduction to his book Self Matters, he describes bailing out of his "godforsaken career," albeit a well-paying one, as a psychoanalyst. Instead of listening to people and their problems, he decided to make people listen to him. He laid down the gauntlet, telling patients to "get real," examine their lives, figure out what's wrong and fix it. "You either get it," became McGraw's refrain every Tuesday on Winfrey's show, "or you don't!" Get it, get in, get out: The pace is snappy on "Dr. Phil," with as many as four interviews per hour. Each interview is preceded by a pretaped segment in which the man and woman not only explain their side of the problem (often making the divide sound more dramatic than it really is), but hilariously re-enact their problem for the cameras. One randy husband happily demonstrated his obsession with sex by walking past his wife while not so surreptitiously grabbing her behind. When that tape ended, McGraw turned to the wife and said, "Have you ever thought of just hosing the boy down?" The interview follows, a blend of searing insights ("Do y'all agree on anything?"), irrefutable axioms ("Failure is no accident") and lots of leaven ("In his defense," he said to one obviously agitated wife, "and God knows he needs one ... "). In a couple of instances it seemed pretty clear that a clueless spouse was merely nodding his or her way through the interview. But McGraw didn't get rich and famous worrying about stuff like that. "All the hard work takes place after the show is over," he said at the end of one episode. He might have added: And that's why they call it "the show." The quicker clicker "Frontline," 9 p.m. Thursday, KCPT and KTWU. John O'Neill was a very interesting guy - a high-profile spook, a counter-terrorism agent for the FBI who had a table at Elaine's. He was also obsessed with Osama bin Laden and pleaded for years with his superiors to let him pursue bin Laden. O'Neill was tolerated, then ignored, then eased out of the bureau. So he went to the World Trade Center to serve as its chief of security, and you can guess what happened next. This poignant 90-minute film called "The Man Who Knew" is a terrific start to "Frontline's" 20th season. It will leave you wondering if the FBI could've prevented the Sept. 11 attacks. "Surviving West Point," 7 p.m. Saturday, National Geographic Channel. This absorbing 14-week documentary series follows a dozen first-year cadets at the U.S. Military Academy as they undergo a hazing unlike any other college freshmen in the nation. Orientation consists of senior officers ordering them around all day, followed by six weeks of boot camp to toughen their bodies as well as their minds. The most engaging of the new kids is Ingrid, the granddaughter of a Bolivian general, who shrugs when asked why she chose this over parties and pledge. "It's just preparing me for the real world," she says. "Pyramid," 11:37 p.m. weeknights, Channel 5, following Letterman.Dick Clark's once-popular word game feels greatly diminished, despite a louder-than-loud new set and appealing new host Donny Osmond. In response to ever-atrophying viewer attention spans, rounds have been cut from 25 to 20 seconds, and the prize for guessing all six categories in the winner's circle is $10,000 - the same jackpot as 29 years ago - though repeat winners can try for the inflation-adjusted amount of $15,000. The old plink-plunk music has been replaced with "Millionaire" noises, but don't let those fool you: The new "Pyramid" isn't going to make anyone rich. To reach Aaron Barnhart, phone (816) 234-4790 or visit the TV Barn Web site at www.tvbarn.com.