Dear Fellow Forum Folks, As a television critic of long standing, as well as a Twainiac of even longer standing, those who carp about the winners of the Kennedy Center's Twain Prize are missing the point. It's not about literature. It's not about humor. Hell, it's not even about Sam. It's about producing cheap television. Awards shows are hideously inexpensive compared to a weekly sitcom, or even a gasbageous effort such as "60 Minutes." The reason a real writer with a gift for humor Keillor the writer, not Keillor the wink-wink, nudge-nudge radio personality; Roy Blount; David Sedaris; the late Peter DeVries and Veronica Geng has not been chosen for this faux award and never will be is that the average TV viewer does not know who they are nor will he or she see the light of their brilliance anytime soon. Were the Twain award meant to have any weight at all within the context in which it was created, Lenny Bruce would have been the first; there would have been a nod to Pigmeat Markham and Moms Mabley; and writers would have been among those paying tribute to the winners. But TV ("A medium," wrote Ernie Kovacs, another posthumous natural for the prize, "So-called because it is neither rare nor well-done.") doesn't work that way. It assumes ignorance, and stupidly believes it has to sacrifice intelligence to get those viewers. Not that the four chosen so far aren't worthy of the honor; they are. But they're all comics whose careers got a huge boost from TV and movies. Yeah, we should do our own award. Justice where it's due. We could call them the Sammies. And I say Sid Perelman ought to get the first one, or perhaps share it with Groucho. Ever the Twain shall meet, Kathy O'Connell Record-Journal Meriden, Conn.