I Prefer the Reid's "My Friend" Knuckle-Duster Myself

Finished reading: AD8

We have now come to the end of 2007 and are at the precipice of 2008. Very strange that the show celebrated its 10th anniversary this year and that the character celebrated her 14th -- remember, she was initially a character on "Beavis and Butt-Head" which debuted in 1993.

Therefore, it's time for some brief New Year's Resolutions:

1. To not say a damned thing about the United States 2008 presidential elections.
2. To stay off the message boards as much as possible.
3. Lose some weight, dammit.
4. Continue to reduce debt. I just keep telling myself, "Canada, July 2012."
5. Pass my professional exams.
6. Continue to read fanfiction, good and bad.
7. Writing about something other than "Daria" for God's sake.
8. Seek out new experiences -- and possibly, new life and new civilizations.
9. Try to avoid seeing movies that have a number at the end.
10. Go Braves.

(* * *)

Unfortunately, for those looking for powerful, trenchant commentary ("CINCGREEN, why start now?"), you won't find it today. It appears that AD8 is simply a wrapping up of threads and a post-mortem.

There's not much to say about AD8 -- which could have frankly been skipped as the plot isn't moved forward. I only have three comments on AD8.

1. I found it rather interesting that the shooting of two people hasn't bothered Daria much, but her near-rape continues to affect her. I wonder if Doggieboy tossed a bone to those complaining about Daria's lack of self-reflection; in any case I enjoyed the fact that some things bothered Daria but not others.

2. How does Jane even know that a rifle is a .30-06? By sight? By trying to match the shell casings? What I'm hoping is that there's a big book somewhere in Robert Ford's office (I know that's not his name, but I like singing "that dirty little coward/who shot Mr. Howard/has laid poor Jesse in his grave") that provides some guidance to Daria and Jane. When you pick up a weapon that you've never fired, loading it can be cryptic, until you figure out where the secret latches/levers/whatever are. Then it's rather simple. Look at all the low IQ "gun nuts" who can shoot. If they can, you can too.

(BTW: Does anyone out there really hate parts of fanfic where they begin to explain the minutiae and obscuria of the latest weapons/jimcrack? It really slows the story to a dead crawl. "No, I don't give a damn that the weapon was manufactured in Bulgaria. Get to the story!")

3. Okay. You have three dead bodies in the yard. It's true that they might not deserve a burial, but you'd better get them out of there before the feral wolves come -- or someone comes along and decides to fight it out with Daria and Jane. After all, the house might have a lot of goodies in it if three guys died trying to get in!

Showdown at the Dumbass Corral

Finished reading: AD7

(Editor's note: I probably won't be needing any more beta readers. I have three, and one has already returned the MS. However, if came to visit for that purpose, I appreciate your help. Maybe next time. -- JB)

It's taken a little while for me to get to my computer, but I can proudly say that the computer has been reassembled at Fortress CINCGREEN and I am retyping from the comfortable basement.

My sister-in-law did yeoman's work in getting the place in tip-top shape. Among her various home improvement items were:

1) repainting the walls in forest gold and brown. My sister and law calls these colors "Reese's colors".
2) constructing a whiteboard for me and hanging it on the wall.
3) repainting this old 1950s-era desk, including drilling some holes in the side. The wood is 1/4 inch thick, and it was a chore to work with
4) cleaning out the old desk to make it possible for me to find a place to set the hard drive.
5) constructing a bookshelf (Target brand put-it-together)
6) putting molding along various doors, and
7) hanging a device that will store an ironing-board -- my office must double as the washer-dryer nook

In addition, Ruth and I have also

1) purchased a flat-screen monitor to replace the old "TV set" monitor, and
2) purchased a hacksaw.

The reason being that the old desk apparently had some sort of function wherein a typing table was concealed on the left side. You swung open the facade on the left side of the desk, and lifted the typing table out.

The problem was that the typing table stopped working long ago, and all that was within was the skeletal remains. As long as that old machinery was inside, putting a hard drive nook would have been impossible. Three metal bars -- two 1/4 inch diameter, one 1/2 inch diameter -- traversed the space and with the bars in place, the assembly was impossible to get out.

I was able to hack through the two 1/4 inch bars and bend the mechanism so that the assembly could come out, thanking goodness that I didn't have to hack through that final 1/2 inch of 40-year old metal. Everything is copacetic, Ruth and I have cleaned the floor, and the place probably looks better than it has in years.

(* * *)

Now, on to AD7. Hoo-boy. This section of "Apocalyptic Daria" I'm going to have to give a "thumbs-down" to. (More on the perils of serial-writing later.)

The story leaves off from AD6. When we last left Daria and Jane, they were blissfully unaware that three enemies of the former owner of the house were heading for a Straw Dogs type showdown.

Such an inept groups of assailants couldn't be imagined outside of a "Daria Triumphant" fic. Only one of these guys have managed to bring a firearm. The other, God help us, has actually brought an ax. The third has brought...nothing, save his fists. (Perhaps he's a descendant of the Boxers of the Opium wars.) One of them -- it's not worth while remembering who -- hopes that if the old man is not there, his daughter is. (So you're guaranteed to hate him already.)

I won't detail the showdown. Jane has a 10-gauge shotgun that she's found. Daria is carrying a concealed .357 Magnum -- forgive me if I get the numerical designations wrong. Jane manages to kill the only armed one of the group, I believe, with the 10-gauge -- but not before Jane takes a bullet in the arm. The other two, believing that Jane is now helpless (we're assuming that this breach-loading shotgun is not double-barreled), move in for the kill.

Unwise move. Daria manages to kill both of them with the .357 magnum. I'm surprised the extras were even given names. (Bill, John, and Harry for those keeping score.)

There follows a long scene with Daria and Jane trying to heal Jane's wound. With nothing sterile, Daria is forced to do the best she can with needle and thread. They manage to get the bleeding under control, and Daria allows Jane to sleep.

(* * *)

Immediately after the story was posted, the commentary broke down into two oppositely opposed camps, raising their voices at each other at least until AD8.

Camp A believed that Daria and Jane should be a bit distressed at the fact that they have killed three human beings -- rotten examples of human beings, but humans nonetheless. Camp B, on the other hand, believed that the survival instinct should trump and that Daria and Jane should have gone Clint Eastwood on them and not given the incident a second thought. (I'll assume that Doggieboy is in Camp B.) Both camps...are wrong. To claim that "all characters should respond like X" is a bit foolish, given the spectrum of human reactions.

Soldiers of all types, ages, and countries have been interviewed regarding their emotional experiences after killing people. There were many soldiers who said, "well, killing never bothered me, actually", and most of these "mass murderers" (after all, they did shoot dozens of people) went on to successful lives as butchers, bakers and candlestick makers without a shred of remorse, with no nightmares and no psychopathy. To these people, killing was simply a task much like any other.

On the other hand, psychological trauma has appeared to increase over the years from veterans. One interesting theory is that with the movement away from mass warfare, it is much harder to get away with deliberately missing. If you were truly terrified, or gripped with anxiety at the thought of taking life, you could fire your World War I Springfield in the general direction of the enemy without actually worrying about hitting anybody. In the chaos, it wouldn't be noticed. (Estimates were that only one out of ten soldiers in that era was actually trying to hit anyone.) However, with "fourth-generation warfare" -- small unit combat where you can actually see your enemy before you kill him -- you can't escape the necessity of taking life.

My conclusion? "One from Column A and one from Column B" -- with the caveat that personality tells you nothing about who will be an efficient killer and who will not. Drill Instructors can tell you dozens of stories about the tough guys who broke down during Basic Training, and they were the guys everyone thought would pass with ease. Then there were the soldiers with pencil-thin legs who wore glasses who calmly and resolutely stuck it out and made more-than-capable soldiers, men whom no one would bet on.

Daria and Jane's personalities will tell us nothing about how they react to trauma. For all we know, if you put a jammy in Mr. O'Neill's hands, he might be the most efficient killer of them all!

That wasn't the part I objected to, feeling that the commentators missed the point. My complaints are of two varieties:

a) the setup. I can't imagine where you could come up with more inept opposition. When I discovered how they were armed, they might as well have been wearing giant tags that read, "I will be dead soon." This is the time during the movie where you get up and get some popcorn while everyone else watches the killing.

Furthermore, Daria letting Jane rest and the "all is well" atmosphere at the end is difficult to understand. Once you shoot down three guys at your doorstep -- even a borrowed doorstep -- does it ever occur to you that someone might wander where they've gone? Maybe they have families too, like the rapist encountered in an earlier part of the story. Maybe they have dangerous...armed...smarter brethren who might be looking for their missing cuzzins.

Another complaint deals with gun mechanics. As it turns out, Daria fandom is blessed (?) with a herd of gun enthusiasts who can recommend what kind of ordinance Daria and Jane should be carrying down to the grains of the shells. Myself, I never wanted to become Tom Clancy and resigned myself to learning "just enough" to make a story involving guns remotely plausible...sometimes, with no success.

However, I have actually *fired* both of the weapons in question. I have fired a breech-loading shotgun as well as an automatic shotgun, small-caliber rifles and large caliber handguns. My father was a gun enthusiast and he wanted me to take up his enthusiasms -- I wouldn't have minded save for my mother, who was terrified with guns and I just opted out, not needing to be in a tug of war between the two.

The first thing that you'll note about shotguns and handguns is how loud they are. If you're not wearing ear protection, it's almost like a small firecracker going off next to your ear. (I hated shotguns precisely for that reason, prefering to stick to small-caliber rifles.)

Guns make noise that will have your ears ringing if you're not aware of what's coming. (I have no hints by the author that Daria and Jane have fired any sort of firearm.) I'm surprised Jane didn't hear from one of the malcreants. "You just shot our buddy and now (high pitched death of ear cells causing a whine in Jane's ears)"

The second part is that if you're not familiar with guns, they can be puzzling. "What do you do to open the breach?" "Where's the safety?" "How hard do you have to pull the trigger?" "How do you reload the chambers in a non-automatic handgun?" This isn't the kind of stuff you want to learn ad-hoc, although since Daria and Jane are smart kids, they might have doped it out on their own.

Finally, one matter has been forgotten -- recoil. Firearms are loud devices that tend to *kick*. Jane's shot knocked the assailant right to the ground -- a 10 gauge can be pretty powerful close up. However, Jane might have found the barrel rising, under its own power, into the air with the recoil. Recoil can sneak up even on experienced shooters. There are five-foot, one-hundred pound women who can handle the larger types of shotguns quite well, but even experienced marksmen can have trouble with the kick.

And Jane is no experienced marksman, and neither is Daria.

(* * *)

So do the criticisms above carry weight? Perhaps, they don't. There are always people out there that are going to nitpick over minutiae. I thought the unfamiliarity with firearms should have been a burden to the protagonists. Other people might claim, "The Belgian 10-Gauge Frammistat Shotgun is not a breech-loader, but an automatic, you clod." (In any role playing game, you always get one of those.)

Was the above enough to spoil my enjoyment of AD7? Neither was singularly, but combined with the ignorant protagonists it was enough to give this chapter of "Apocalyptic Daria" a failing grade.

And now, the important question: was AD7 so bad that it derailed your will to read the series? The answer is "no, it was not."

There's always a danger with writing serials -- every chapter is a chance for someone to climb off the bandwagon. People will find egregious fault with Chapter 1, or Chapter 2, or Chapter 22, or so on. A serial can never build readership, only lose it. It seems that enough people liked the story to read forty-two chapters of it; the first six chapters should make up for the bad seventh. In short, expect me to be here to read AD8 and comment on it.

(Note: Work might get a little more hectic at work, and further reviews might be less frequent. Can't be helped.)

The Usual Suspects

"Reclamation III" has now been re-read. Beta readers are sought. E-mail me at the address in the header, and I'll send it to you.

Into the Woods with Gun and Camera

Finished reading: AD6

All right. I can happily say that due to the fact that absolutely nothing was going on at work yesterday, that I have finally finished "Reclamation, Part III".

However, there are two more things that need to be done before the public can see it (and point, mockingly). The first thing is that I have to re-read it and make corrections. I've always found this part of "fic writing" the very hardest part of all.

Hard parts of fic writing, in order

1. Rereading the first draft.
2. Waiting for the first draft to come back.
3. Preparing the final copy from the first draft.
4. Writing the first draft.

Notice that "writing the first draft" is fourth on the list, the very bottom. Anyone can write a first draft and just throw it up on the Internet. Which is why I've often called fan fiction "an amusing collection of first drafts". To become a polished writer, one has to revise and revise and revise and I've always found this revision painful.

I already know the first draft is weak. Parts of the dialogue are clunky. Parts of the plot are propelled by coincidences. Sometimes, you just don't have any idea as to how you're going to fix those parts. So you do the best you can -- put bandaids on it despite the fact that blood is pouring out of the copy -- then send it back. And wait.

Hopefully, the beta readers will have good ideas as to how to fix things. (Bad ideas are a dime a dozen.) At least, they can confirm your initial diagnoses ("yep. I knew that didn't work") or even find new ones.

Then, they send it back, you stitch it up, and mail it to messageboards and get it out of your life.

(* * *)

I'm presently making excuses for not rereading my original copy. My computer, my gateway to the world, is currently in pieces in the basement. Why? My sister-in-law is here painting and redecorating the place and we're hoping to turn the basement into a true Fortress CINCGREEN and not "the place where you put all the spare crap that doesn't belong elsewhere in the house". I'll actually have my own home office.

So where am I typing this? From the living room. My wife is otherwise distracted, but I hate the thought that someone could look over my shoulder at any moment and say "whatcha doin'"? Not that I have anything to be ashamed of, but I find my return to fan fiction writing a bit embarrassing. My wife would say, "oh, not this again" and I'd have to say "yeah, this again."

However, I have access to the first draft from this computer. I'll make the effort to read it. I pinky-swear.

(* * *)

By the way -- I miss my computer baseball game, the only copy of which is on that computer mentioned above, in pieces. The plan is to replace my monitor with a flat-screen monitor. I want a big one.

(* * *)

Anyway, on to AD6. Part of reading a story is that you get to follow its thread, and I'm very surprised that commentary didn't so much center on the strengths (or weaknesses -- you'll never get honest commentary on a message board ) as on what kinds of supplies the commenters would be storing if society went ass-up. It reminds me of the earliest games of Dungeons and Dragons where you'd roll up a character and proceed to load down the character for supplies as if he were going on an arctic expedition.

Daria and Jane certainly can't carry this crap around with them. They can, however, put it in their car but if they lose the car...they lose everything. This shouldn't be as much of a prolbem as some people think. To paraphrase Mark Twain, "put all your eggs in one basket -- and watch that basket!"

They're probably better off in a car than in a house (more later). However, Daria and Jane are trying to find out what happened to Lawndale, and when a winter storm approaches, they decide to seek shelter in a house. The problem is that the houses nearby appear to be crudely barricaded. If I recall correctly, one house has parked its car right in front of the door, a sort of futile attempt at a barrier.

The two find the only house that isn't barricaded, and make their way in. However, they find the previous inhabitant...dead. Apparently, he died of a heart attack and there was no one to check on him. Daria and Jane dispose of the body, and gather more supplies from inside the house, including more firearms.

Unfortunately, Daria and Jane might not remain disturbed long. A group of men watches the house from a distance. They have it in for the previous owner -- they're not aware that the man died of natural causes -- and might plan a confrontation....

...can you feel the suspense out there? Time to head on to AD7....





My list of things for the apocalypse:

a) A backpack. Don't overload it.
b) A good knife with a sharp blade, preferably a long-bladed hunting knife -- not so much for defense as for its use as a tool
c) A whetstone, to keep such a knife sharpened.
d) A compass, so that you know where you're going. If walking, people tend to favor one leg or another, which means that after many, many days, you might end up walking in a circle when you think you're going "true north".
e) A pistol. Which you keep holstered, and at your side. "God did not make men equal. Sam Colt did." Ammo for same. Avoid rifles unless you plan to eat what you shoot.
f) Potassium iodide.
g) Flint, along with the knowledge to use it to start fires.
h) The knowledge of how to make your own sandals from tire rubber at http://www.hollowtop.com/sandals.htm. Save your shoes for winter.
i) Possibly, a Ph. D. in herbology. That might be hard to find during the apocalypse.
j) A friend, possibly the most valuable thing of all. Daria and Jane are already one-up on that....

Message From Beyond

Finished reading: AD5

One of the many problems of blogging is the need to find material, and I'm loathe to fill the blog with stuff regarding my personal life. I don't think my life is interesting enough to maintain a blog at that level.

However, I'm hoping to work on "Reclamation" a bit today. As it turned out, I had written 1/2 of Part III and then came to a stop -- before I walked out of fandom in a fury. So it was good to see that my work was theoretically half-over.

Work is slow. Until I have projects to work on, there's not much for me to do except continue my education, and I'm waiting for the results of an exam I took in November to come out in early January. So do I study something new, or study something old if I failed the exam? Decisions, decisions.

It turns out that I "think" in scenes. I've talked to other writers and have learned that some writers actually take notes. Taking notes, however, doesn't work for me. I generally have some ideas for scenes, and I work those scenes out in my mind. Then, I fill in the gaps with other scenes and the entire story snaps together like a puzzle. By the time I commit finger to keyboard, I've usually already "written" about eighty percent of what I'm going to type -- it's merely a matter of description.

unfortunately, I'm treating "Reclamation" a bit differently. This is going to be a pseudo-canon fanfic -- no science-fiction-y stuff. Furthermore, it will have an end. And it will need beta-reading, a process I hate because it keeps me from simply shoving the first draft onto the Internet and forgetting about it. I assume that I can beat Scissors MacGillicutty into providing a beta-read, at least.

(* * *)

As it turns out, "Apocalyptic Daria" has something in common with the way I'm formatting blog entries. I've decided that I'll read a little bit of someone's fan fiction and comment on it each time I make a post.

I borrowed that idea from Slacktivist, and his "Left Behind Fridays". Slacktivist is reading the "World's Worst Books" -- Left Behind by Tim LaHaye and the other guy -- and commenting on what execrable tripe they are, both in the literary and the theological sense. (And guess what? Today is Left Behind Friday!)

Now I am not claiming that "Apocalyptic Daria" is in any way comparable to LaHaye's excrement. In terms of writing skill, LaHaye should be licking Doggieboy's shoes. However, there are a few amusing/interesting parallels:

1) We are in the Apocalypse in both stories. In Doggieboy's world, the nukes have flown; in LaHaye's, we are dealing with the post-Rapture. The difference being that Doggieboy's universe has consequences and chaos while life goes on seemingly as normal in Left Behind despite the absense of about a billion people.
2) In the church where Daria and Jane are staying, there is a copy of Left Behind among the other books, and a Boy Scout manual, which has a better plot than LaHaye's book.
3) The tape.

Undoubtedly, one of the questions is "where are the parishoners?" As it turns out, Sunday morning is approaching and Daria and Jane should be face to face with the "owners" of the church, but no one shows up. However, as it turns out -- coincidentally -- there is a video tape which has been made the Sunday before which answers the question of why no one will be showing up at this church again for a long time.

As it turns out, there is also a video tape scene in Left Behind (trust me, I haven't read it -- I'm going by Slacktivist's explanations). This tape was "left behind" by the former pastor of the New Hope Church, explaining what killed hi--uh, that is what raptured him and most of the congregation. Consider it evangelism beyond the grave. (There are websites now which will send post-Rapture messages to your unsaved loved ones, believe it or not.)

Doggieboy flips the coin on the readers, as this tape is more a dysangel. It's just bad news all around.

I wasn't moved by AD5, but I don't know if Doggieboy really wanted his readers to feel for the parishoners or if he just wanted to move the story forward. My problem is that these are pretty much tropes of "apocalypse" fiction. Namely, "the message from beyond", from people who for some reason aren't around anymore. It can be a diary, it can be a cassette tape, or in this case, it can be a VCR.

As for Daria and Jane being moved by what they saw, I'm simply remembered of this same scene in the hands of two other comedy writers:

a) Douglas Adams, whose Arthur Dent is not moved to tears over the destruction of his home planet...until he realizes that he will never have a McDonald's hamburger, ever again, and
b) Futurama, where Philip J. Fry is ecstatic over the realization that all of his family and friends are dead...his life sort of sucked, anyway.

(Boy, I've really become callous and cynical, haven't I? If it makes you feel any better, I probably would have felt sad if I had seen that tape, too.)

Daria and Jane were moved, at least. Moved to tears. Which might be the subject of a whole other essay.

The Number 22

Finished reading: AD4

Amazingly, one story from my "unfinished fic" list has been completed: "Canon Fodder" was posted for me by Scissors MacGillicutty.

That's the good news. The bad news is that I have to start work on "Reclamation", a much tougher fic to write and one whose ending will be disappointing. That's as may be -- the list needs to be cleared out. Oddly enough, I've been thinking about "Same Drum, New Tune" more than I've been thinking about "Reclamation".

I noticed that medea42 opened up an account on the other board. I hope she finds it interesting but that other board is pretty much dead. No real fic is being written there and all of the conversation -- so to speak -- takes place in hidden forums.

(* * *)

Now, on to "Apocalyptic Daria". I just noticed at PPMB that Doggieboy has actually finished the series. medea and Milderbeast returning, a serial actually being finished? What's next? A red moon? The birth of a centaur?

AD4 isn't much of a story, it's more of a "get the characters from one place to another" tale. However, there are hints of the future world that I wonder if the author intended.

It's clear that government at the state level has broken down, but not at the local level. Each town seems to be left to its own as to how to deal with the problem of refugees. D & J are met by gun-toting locals at the city limits in one town; in another they are pleasantly greeted but told sorry, there's no more room at the inn. At least, an ancient Geiger counter is brought out to indicate that no one is dying of radiation poisoning. With no where else to turn, Daria and Jane go to church...seriously, at least to find a place to spend the night. (Shades of Joseph and Mary looking for a stable.)

Surprisingly, they have no trouble gaining entrance. The doors aren't locked. When I grew up, every church I ever attended regularly was locked when services were not being held. Either Daria and Jane got lucky finding an unlocked church, but really -- we don't need to know the details as to how D & J got in.

Sidebar: There's a blog called Slacktivist that I sometimes read. No, it's not what you think it's about. It's a blog about Christianity. From one of the comments links, I was taken to an atheist blog that discussed the recent shootings at the New Life Church in Colorado Springs. As it turned out, there was armed security at the church that shot the gunman. Good thing the gunman was there, but it raises the question of why Christians put their trust in Sam Colt more than they do in God, who is the ultimate provider. Likewise, I wonder why churches have their doors locked when no one is inside. You'd think that a church would want as many people coming in as possible. Then again, the pastor is a "Marion Summers", so maybe they're United Methodists or something.

Anyway, back to the tale. While Daria sleeps a fitful sleep, Jane rummages through the "black knight's" personal effects. She finds out that the assailant, a Larry Carter, has a wife, three kids, and a cat. A diary (!) also reveals that Daria and Jane were not his first victims.

Oddly enough, the concept of a serial rapist having his own family isn't out of the ordinary. You can type in "serial rapist married" into your search engine and find out about Nathan Antonio Washington, a married father of four, who committed two rapes and two sexual assaults in Charlottesville, Virginia.

The most interesting part of AD4 -- to me, anyway -- involved Mr. Carter's diary, where he wrote the details of his sexual assaults. Apparently, of his twenty victims (I'm assuming Daria and Jane aren't counted), he killed seventeen after his assaults and managed to track down and kill one of the three escapees. A nasty piece of work. Jane reads all of the details, including that he liked to hear the screams of his victims.

Serial criminals, oddly enough, tend to play into the stereotype of being meticulous. Frankly, you can't be successful as a serial whatever unless you are very organized. Can't leave evidence lying about. Can't leave people talking. And of course, sometimes you take a trophy -- in Carter's case, his detailed notekeeping.

But this is the odd fact: Carter must have written down the details before and after. Jane and Daria were listed as Numbers 21 and 22, but both escaped without molestation. Yet I suspect that many serial planners are a bit obsessive. I assume that Carter's handwriting is neat, the ledger is neat, and everything is properly squared away.

Therefore...I assume that Carter would not flub details and get the order wrong. Jane is listed as #21. Daria is listed as #22. Jane is knocked unconscious in AD3. When she wakes, Carter is ready to assault Daria. My question: what happened between the time Jane was knocked cold and the time she intervened on behalf of Daria?

If Carter is a serial obsessive, then the logical conclusion is: Jane was raped by Carter (#21). Then, Carter went on to rape Daria (#22), but was stopped. Meaning, that Daria saw Carter rape Jane...and didn't tell Jane. Jane, apparently, has no memory of what happened. Only Daria knows the awful secret.

(Of course, this theory falls apart: Carter liked to hear his victims scream. Unconscious victims don't scream. Carter was forced to skip #21 and proceed to #22, where he would have undoubtedly made the appropriate corrections in his logbook later. My first hypothesis, however, is more intriguing. And it has tigers.)

Rapefic Revisited

Finished reading: AD3

"No, not love she said
Don't you know that it's different for girls?
(Don't give me love)
No, not love she said
Don't you know that it's different for girls?
You're all the same"

--Joe Jackson

AD3 is not melodramatic, but it veers towards sensationalism. Perhaps what happens in AD3 is a trope of post-apocalyptic fic; I'm not familiar with the genre.

Daria and Jane, while attempting to drive back to civilization, run into a couple of good old boys who are determined to give Daria and Jane a good time...well, a good time for the good ol' boys anyway. Before very bad things can happen, a white knight in the form of a government agent manages to shoot the miscreants and come to the rescue of D & J.

However, Daria dopes out that this man is not what he claims to be and points it out. The white knight shows his true "black knight" colors and forces Daria and Jane to come with him. Without getting into details, Daria is about to become a non-virgin before Jane locates the man's gun, shoots him, and the two are on their way. (For actual details, you'll just have to read the story.)

I believe someone on the thread pointed out, "boy, civilization sure has gone under very quickly". How long has it been, a couple of days and already rape squads and perverts are roaming the land?

My hope is that society has temporarily reverted to anarchy -- not the anarchy of "do what you want", but the anarchy of "take what you please". This phase tends not to last very long, as superpredators arise to kill off the weaker of their fellow criminals. I hope Doggieboy's world-building exercise shows some thought.

What saved the above from leaning into melodrama -- the attempt at molestation is definitely sensational, there is a building of suspense, Jane's location of the gun moves the plot forward and almost depends on coincidence -- was that fact that after the black knight gets shot, we have no idea as to whether or not he is dead.

It doesn't really matter if he's dead or not. If he's not dead, and he shows up again, Daria and Jane can just take action when he arrives. A melodrama, however, would have Jane shoot him in the head to give the audience its satisfaction and confirm the melodramatic moral of "all rapists should die". AD3 at least confirms the uncertainty.

(* * *)

One of the problems of writing fan fiction with teenage girl protagonists is the lack of experience with being a teenage girl. To a good writer, this should not be an insurmountable obstacle. All sorts of fantasy fiction is written despite the fact the authors are not elves on the side.

However, one simply can't write teenage girls as teenage boys in drag. They have a different set of problems that aren't merely rooted in anatomy. One of those problems I suppose is the awareness that you're the "weaker sex" -- not weaker in the sense of being intellectually or spiritually inferior, but physically vulnerable. (I assume the writers of Kim Possible fanfic don't have this problem.)

Which leads to questions that many male writers can't answer from direct experience. They have to make hypotheses and pray that those hypotheses pass the acid test. Daria, for example, is about five-foot-one and has probably never exercised a day in her life. Furthermore, even though she might believe she's unattractive, she knows from hard experience that there's a subset of guys for whom that won't matter, and who furthermore would use violence to get what they wanted. That subset is kept at bay by law, and its true that rape is an act of violence and not of sex...but really, how much of the female consciousness is taken up by worries of rape?

My assumption -- and it might be a wrong one -- is that it's sort of like walking around as a target. In about 95 percent of cases, you can feel at ease but you know there are certain kinds of situations you don't want to get yourself into. You take precautions. Well-lit parking lots, etc. etc. with maybe some thought exercises such as "what do you do?" "Do you struggle to save your self-esteem or do you give in to save your life?"

How much do women think about this? How much of their present-moment consciousness is taken up by the fact? I would claim not much, but you do get daily reminders that bring you back to the topic momentarily.

There is a school of thought that says that men can't write about such matters -- not plausibly, anyway. My wife claims, for example, that men could never write what some fans would call a "rape fic", even if that work were to handle the topic with great seriousness and accuracy. Men are just not suited for such a subject. I refuse to argue about the matter, I just have a different opinion, that's all -- but I'm not about to write the next great rape fic in Daria fanfiction.

I was chatting with a friend about this the other night -- about physical vulnerability and the awareness it might play in the protagonists' minds. He concluded, "No wonder Jake is crazy. He has two teenage daughters to worry about."

The Men in the Road

Finished Reading: AD2

Have returned home. Oddly enough, last night wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. The fact that wine was served didn't hurt. It loosened everyone up, and even the teenage kids of the neighbors seemed to catch the infectious spirit.

So what kind of loot did I get? Aside from the usual Christmas brick-a-brack, I picked up what I really enjoy. Peanut butter fudge, for one thing. And....books. Such as:

The Marvel Encyclopedia. "The Definitive Guide to the Characters of the Marvel Universe". A picture book suitable for middle-aged twelve year olds, to provide many reminders as to how I used to spend the bulk of my time.
The Super Bowl of Advertising: How the Commercials Won the Game by Bernice Kanner. This book is a history of the "Super Bowl Commerical", and how commercials during the game -- starting with the MacIntosh "1984" commercial -- became more and more high concept.
The Bathroom Baseball Book. "Hardball Trivia for the Best Seat in the House". "Where was baseball's first night game played?" and other trivia questions for distraction during those necessary trips to the smallest room.

(* * *)

I've took a brief look at AD2. Even though Part 2 isn't a "Part 2" in the sense that a story by Richard Lobinske is a "Part 2" -- a Lobinske Part 2 would be a complete story; AD2 is just a scene from a larger narrative -- there are some elements that piqued my interest.

First, the fact that during the story Daria is blinded in the left eye. (I don't have the story in front of me; I refuse to look at it again.) It doesn't really matter which of the two eyes is wounded; the fact that one eye is wounded is remarkable. I always called this "Claremont's Rule" after Chris Claremont, the years-long X-Men writer, who claimed the key to good writing as "put the characters in the worst situation you can, and then make it worse". I'm glad that despite the fact that Daria and Jane are starting out with the clothes on their backs, the story won't be an upward climb.

Secondly, there is the matter of "the men at the road". Daria and Jane are almost stopped by a group of men in the road, but when they notice a body nearby, they decided to zoom right by and take their own chances. Who are "the men in the road"? Why have they tried to block the road? What was their purpose? We don't know, and hopefully, we won't know. Most people's lives are filled with unanswered questions: "what happened to that cute girl I sat behind in seventh grade class?" The fact that Doggieboy isn't going out of his way to provide answers to everything is a good sign.

Merry Merry

Finished reading: "Apocalyptic Daria, Part 1"

Merry Winter Solstice, all. Right now, I'm getting ready to face the toughest part of Christmas, time in my mom's a-bit-too-small house with the family of her best friend visiting. Imagine eight people trapped in a tiny living room complete with one psychotic cat. CG, you just have to bite the bullet and spread a little bit of that Christmas cheer; then "the long national nightmare is over".

For the one person who might be reading this blog, some good advice: if you're traveling to a small town, you always want to stay in the newest hotel -- the one most recently built. That way, you can be sure that the room doesn't need too much fumigation and the facilities are up to speed. There's a scene in "Family Guy" -- two, if I recall -- where it's pointed out that with an ultraviolet light, you can see all the human proteins that have been spilled in a hotel room over the years. I prefer not to carry the DNA of others around if I can avoid it.

So we're staying in the hotel-of-most-recent-construction here. I'll also note, however, that a "Starbucks" is under construction in this small Southern burg. Without praising corporate capitalism overmuch, let me just say that a "Starbucks" will change this community completely. You can't be a conservative, God-fearing town with a Starbucks in your midst. Perhaps that's why they put it near the Interstate off-ramp...to fool the liberals.

(* * *)

Undoubtedly, you can't call yourself a true-blue Daria fan until you've read "Apocalyptic Daria" and "Falling Into College", so those are my next big projects on reading. As Scarlett O'Hara is my witness, I'll never read another Daria fic again until I finish all one hundred parts!

Hyperbole aside, my first thought on reading either one of those is sheer jealousy. "Hey, I wrote a very long fic, too, and no one read it! How come you guys get to be successful!" However, I promise to kill the big green monster inside and look at each of these with an unjaundiced eye. (Or should it be, "non-chartreuse eye?)

"Apocalyptic Daria: Part 1" (which shall herein be referred to as ADx with x being the current part) starts off with an interesting premise -- Daria and Jane are driving along minding their own business when the nuclear holocaust starts. All of the complicated plotting for the first few parts should be reduced to one goal: survival. At the end of AD1, Daria and Jane are trying to make their way back home, as the readers eagerly anticipate the horrors that lie ahead.

I found Daria and Jane's trip to West Virginia a bit implausible -- yes, I know that Doggieboy had to get Daria and Jane over to West Virginia to keep them relatively safe, but I figured that Jane would look for impulsive, lazy fun, not driving to the Kwik-E-Mart of West Virginia. There's also a grammatical nitpick, namely leaving numbers in their numerical form (20, 3, 7) when the numbers are short enough to be spelled out (twenty, three, seven). The general rule is to spell out numbers and to convert to numerical form only for numbers that would take a long time to spell out (like 1,893).

However, there was a part of the tale that brought a smile. Daria and Jane's car for some reason has not been crippled by the electromagnetic pulse trope associated with nuclear holocaust fiction. When trying to reason out why their car is still running...Daria and Jane simply give up. They don't know why. (And the omnicient narrator doesn't step in, either.) It's good to not only have things happen in a story the characters can't explain, but to have things that the narrator refuses to explain. Readers don't need to be spoon-fed the answers, and Daria and Jane's road trip back home will not need a physics lesson. Just get them on the road.

(* * *)

As far as I can tell, here is my "unfinished fic list" that I'll have to tackle....

"Canon Fodder": the only ideas I had for "Canon Fodder" were in the next plot element, the next thing to happen that moves the story along. Things happen in "Canon Fodder", the characters don't know why they're happening, and I don't know why they're happening, either. However, I will pick it up and try to finish it. Maybe it should end with an autistic kid looking into a snowglobe.

"Legion of Lawndale Heroes": progressing nicely, thank you. Probably when the world's temperature is 420 degrees, when all life has been extinguished due to a runaway greenhouse effect save one man and there's only one working computer terminal...either Brother Grimace or I will be typing "Legion of Lawndale Heroes". (Well, probably not Brother Grimace, who will have escaped to another planet by then.)

"Reclamation": people reallllly liked "Reclamation". But first things first. Clear up "Canon Fodder", then one more part for "Reclamation".

"Same Drum, New Tune": the only one of the stories above that has a fully worked-out plot, even if only in my head. I have an idea of how it's going to progress, as well as an idea for an end. However, we're working in alphabetical order here.

"Thought Exercise: Multitask". Uh...no.

"Girls' Night Out": in your dreams.

The Daily Blah

I believe I remember reading somewhere that a study was done of people who routinely blogged their lives online and it was found that their mental health was no better that a control group of people picked at random. At least, we can be assured that their mental health was no worse.

Which is why I look askew at trying to create a new blogging experience again. Posting every day is a pain in the ass. There's really nothing about my life that's worth writing down, or keeping in a diary -- although, if you really and truly insist, I can tell you about the visit to my mother's after a long drive today.

I probably need to get into the swing of reading fanfiction again. Since Brother Grimace has used characters from "Apocalyptic Daria" by Doggieboy, that should probably be my first choice, but I *hate* feeling that I had to read something. The fandom would gather around some great writer, a John Takis or The Angst Guy or Doggieboy (is he the new great one?) or whatever, and then it would become a chore -- "gotta finish those next three chapters of PiTA" and you *didn't* look forward to it. Not that PiTA isn't a great series, and very well written; it was just the sense of obligation you imposed upon yourself, and I instinctively rebel against those obligations, even the one's other people don't set.

I tend to be a perfectionist, setting very high standards, berating myself for not meeting them and berating everyone else for the same. (See: CINCGREEN, vis-a-vis fandom for multiple examples.) Only with a series like "Legion of Lawndale Heroes" or even "Girls' Night Out" could I feel free of those high standards, free to post something that pleased me with really no one else in mind. One of the things that's been a problem is to be a bit more forgiving of other people who don't behave in ways that I feel they should behave.

Undoubtedly, there will be some reading of fan fiction and discussion of it here, although it might be one of the reasons why "The Green Sink" was never updated -- the feeling self imposed (and occasionally, imposed by others) that you *had* to be doing something. Hell, I still need to finish reading "Journey to the End of the Night" and "American Gods", and I started those books six months ago and they are still not finished.

So to fandom, and to any readers out there, here is a warning. As someone once said, "I give you not my best". You'll find true, honest-to-God C-minus work here; the upkeep at Fortress CINCGREEN is not what it used to be.

Yuletide Cheer in Daria Fandom and Elsewhere

Regarding my absence from Daria fandom, I spoke to a friend of mine whose user name resembles that of a paper-cutting implement from Boston and we talked about fannish issues to and fro.

Therefore, I've decided to withdraw my former abandonment of the fandom. (The Bug Man, it seems, had me pegged correctly -- "how many times has CINCGREEN left the fandom, now?") However, what I have decided to abandon is the message boards. More than likely, my first goal will to be finishing all of my unfinished works, which will be a burdensome process but will at least keep my imagination from acting as an ouroboros, with continue self-re-reflection on my past fan activities.

What I've abandoned, however, is posting on message boards. Of course, to finish some of those stories, I will have to post (unless I can get that above named friend to do the heavy lifting.) However, the to-and-fro of comment on those stories will be limited to private e-mail, as threads will not be answered. I doubt anyone shall be inconvenienced, as comment on items I had posted was virtually nonexistent.

Regarding Legion of Lawndale Heroes: Brother Grimace will still have leave to act unfettered throughout the land in posting the adventures of these superpowered teens. I love his take on the whole thing, and right now, I'm not really ready to resume the full-time chore of writing LLH. He owes me eight episodes, and I plan to extract my pound of flesh from one of the chief Angst Lords.

Furthermore, my friend decried the fact that there were no comments on the blog. Therefore, I've reintroduced comments, but not everyone has leave to speak. You have to have an account at Blogger for one; for another, unless the comment has something substantial to add to the conversation, beyond just a simple "hello" or goofy remark, it might not see the light of day, although it will certainly be read by me. People who have something substantial to contribute will hopefully contribute to a conversation; people who have little to say -- or worse, people who are so starved for attention that they treasure even negative attention will find their comments shrivel up like mice in a miser's kitchen.

I've noticed with some small interest the recent hubbub regarding comments on the pale "blunt parody" of the old Daria Fandom Blog -- the one which is not the Daria Fandom Blog II, a wonderful endeavor of The Angst Guy that should be read, cherished and encouraged. Without naming names, or assigning blame -- since as far as I know, I still have pleasant relationships with each of the parties in the dispute -- I have a simple thought exercise.

"Why are you surprised that a certain individual might take offense to an argument, even ostensibly one in parody, that said individual is a child molester? And why are you doubly shocked that said individual might pursue legal action against such scurrilous libel?"

I think when you begin slandering someone's sexuality, you automatically make yourself the loser; it was a critical strategic misstep that I would have advised against because it opens you up to attack on a wide variety of fronts having nothing to do with the original thrust of the argument. Yeah, it is kind of fun to break the rules of rhetoric and avoid fear of the ad hominem; but partakers in kinky blog-postin' fun should realize that those rules were originally intended for the safety of the writer, and not his intended victim.

Turn off your TVs

There are some huge advantages and disadvantages to writing a blog without comments.

The biggest advantage is that even though you shut out all the interesting voices, you shut out all the uninteresting voices as well. I'm one of the few people who doesn't have a cell phone, and one of the reasons is that I didn't feel that I should be at the beck and call of every person who might have my number. You wouldn't let anyone in your house who decided to knock on the door, so why should you let anyone wander on to your blog?

The biggest disadvantage is that in hearing no voices at all, you've consigned yourself to an echo chamber, where blogging becomes much like writing a diary. My mother keeps a diary, or at least kept one, and I have no idea what's going to happen to that book on the inevitable day when she can resume her peaceful nonexistence. (Life was once called by someone an inconvenient interruption to an otherwise peaceful nonexistence.) As I have no children and have no plans of having them, there's no one to whom this book could be passed. I feel that reading such a book would be a violation of my mother's privacy, even after her (hopefully far off in the future) death. In the same way, a blog can become self-contained. I've blogged private matters and have come to regret it, because really, what kind of person posts his private thoughts and deepest secrets all the hell over the web?

It's unlikely that I'll be doing further television reviews. Not only has the writer's strike dried up material, but as you can tell, the bulk of television shows deliver nothing in the way of entertainment. "Everybody Hates Chris" has become unwatchable, "Kid Nation" had a final episode which was an abortion, "The Simpsons" is still in its "painfully unfunny" period. Many of these shows weren't "funny bad" like Manos: The Hands of Fate, but bad bad, like rectal surgery. And trust me, there are so many people out there doing television reviews that I doubt my voice will be missed.

So what's next? Probably...baseball. Or hockey. I've always loved sports, and particularly sports history and statistics. Baseball and hockey are at two ends of a continuum, where it seems every gonad scratch in baseball is recorded and put into a database, whereas the only stats recorded in hockey seem to be goals and assists. Maybe there will be something worthwhile to write about that.

But will I be deleting the older blog entries? No, I won't. Might as well keep them here.

So does this mean the end of CINCGREEN's sojourn in Daria fandom? Most likely, yes. Now that I'm past forty, some sort of middle-aged gene has kicked in saying, "You know, you really shouldn't be wasting such time and effort on a cartoon about a bunch of teenage schoolgirls". When life gets shorter, one tends to look at things on a cost-effective basis, a basis which can be overridden if the activity tends to bring you great pleasure. Daria fandom got to the point where the amount of joy it was bringing me was no longer commesurate with the amount of time I put in, and like a middle-aged accountant, I cut it from my list of expenses.

I'll borrow some thoughts from Kevin Holden in Montreal and restate them as my own. Most of the fan fiction no longer interests me, except maybe for "Legion of Lawndale Heroes", and the only reason that interests me is that it was my creation and Brother Grimace is running with it. I've pretty much seen most of the fan fiction permutations out there. Furthermore, as the amount of fan fiction has dropped (show not on the air, y'know), the other chit-a-chat doesn't grab my interest.

More and more of the newer fans come off as sociopaths, undoubtedly drawn to the fandom because they sympathise with the rejected Daria, as the newer fans are real social rejects themselves --cutters, bulimics, bipolars, slackers who really really need the help of a good psychiatrist rather than a coffee klatch. (God knows *I* needed a good psychatrist; thank the stars I found one.) The current mentally ill members of the message boards can always find a sucker to listen to them, and to forgive the most egregious lapses in basic decorum or decency. (What's the old saying? "A sucker is born every minute, and two to take him?" It's a good gig, as some of those people remain coddled for years on end.) It begins to look like an episode of Jerry Springer, "Abusive Fans, and Their Enablers Who Just Can't Say No!"

The only real solution to that problem would have been to form a spin-off group of older, more mature fans -- more emotionally mature, anyway. But I concluded that it was too much time and energy to make a truly concerted effort, with no guaranteed payoff, and there would be another split of a fandom that's seen too much splitting anyway. Better to just let it go.

As Bob Dylan said, "Nostalgia is death." Time to move on to the next big thing, whatever that is.

"Everybody Hates Minimum Wage (Everybody Hates Chris)", 11-19-2007

You know that comedies are struggling when they begin to stretch the borders of disbelief. Last week's episode of "Everybody Hates Chris" called "Everybody Hates Houseguests" stretched disbelief beyond the breaking point, and whereas the boundaries are returning to their previous shape, they are not quite fixed again.

Chris works at a convenience store called "Doc's". However, he reads in the paper that the minimum wage is $3.35/hour. Chris is only being paid $3/hour and he convinces himself that he should stand up for his rights and ask Doc for a raise. He seems himself as a good worker and believes taht he deserves the money. However, Doc won't budge -- $3 it is. Of course, Chris always has the option of going on strike (and in some bad sitcoms, he would), but he imagines white policemen beating him up and decides to give Doc one more chance by presenting him with an ultimatum -- either Chris earns his raise or walks out the door. Doc simply says, "nice working with you".

This leaves Chris unemployed, and he figures he dare not tell his father that he walked away from a job -- his father works two, three jobs, and sometimes more. Chris, desperate to find another job that will pay minimum wage, goes to work for a Chinese restaurant. Unfortunately for Chris, the owner is a harsh taskmaster, and Chris doesn't have time to rest on his broom. Furthermore, Doc let Chris do his homework during down times, but there are no down times at the restaurant. To add insult, since Chris is not only the only non-Asian employee at the restaurant, but the only black employee, Chris is called "Lionel Richie" by his new boss and Chris suspects that he's referred to in less complementary terms behind his back.

Meanwhile, Rochelle has her sights set on being a hair model in the local hair show presented by the beauty shop, and finally begs a place for herself. We learn that the hair styles at the hair show would make a Japanese topiary specialist suffer a stroke -- Rochelle will be modeling "the Tsunami", which is a rarely used style as the last model who tried it suffered from hairspray poisoning. Rochelle's hair is soon coiffed into a living wave, and all is well -- until Rochelle learns that the show is more than a day away and Rochelle cannot lie down or she'll destroy her do.

Chris tries to see how his old job is coming along. As it turns out, Chris's job is now taken by James, a young boy who likes Chris's sister, Tonya. Chris despairs that he could ever get his old job back without giving up his principles.

Chris's new boss, meanwhile, decides to extend the restaurant to delivery. (Why not? He figures that since Chris is black, he should get along fine.) However, restaurants in Bed-Stuy didn't have delivery service, for good reason. (One of Doc's customers says that he has kids in Bed-Stuy -- but he never visits them because it's too dangerous.) Chris is forced to deliver Chinese food to crack houses and tenement apartments. When he bumps into a domestic dispute with a wife who punctuates her arguments with her husband with a large firearm, Chris flees the scene.

Drew turns out to be failing history, and Rochelle and Julius figure its their job to investigate -- however, Rochelle can't risk her new do, so Julius goes out Drew's school to figure out what's up. It turns out that Drew's teacher is a great-looking woman, and no male in the class can think straight. Transferring Drew to another history class turns out to be the solution, but the effort for Rochelle to remain awake is too much and her do is destroyed.

Chris gets his paycheck -- with taxes, FICA, etc. removed. He's actually earning less at the restaurant! Chris finally quits, and tells his father, who simply informs him that it's never a good idea to trade great working conditions for more money. Humbled, Chris returns to Doc's, who told Chris that the reason he was not paid minimum wage is that Chris would get less than minimum wage after taxes and Doc could not afford the paperwork. Chris is given back his job -- as James has moved on to work for the Chinese restaurant. (And Chris learns, to his dismay, that James is being paid in cash!)

(* * *)

The more "Everybody Hates Chris" deals with real situations and the less it deals in general sitcom wackiness, the stronger it becomes. Chris at the Chinese restaurant introduced much-needed realism to the episode, and I felt sympathy for Chris's plight -- he never expected his new job to be so bad.

However, Rochelle's hair mania dragged the episode down. The sample do's shown (one was shaped like a helicopter, complete with spinning blades) were so ludicrous that they could barely be suffered. Is Rochelle really that desperate to look like a fool? She has to keep a family of three kids and a husband together; would she be able to do that and maintain a stiffly lacquered hairstyle at the same time? Not likely.

Furthermore, the "cute teacher causes failing grades" trope is way overdone. (Julius was able to magically restore Drew's memory of historical events by covering Drew's teacher's face with a flag -- but when the flag was removed, Drew returned in milliseconds to idiot.) And of course, there was a "Greg Wuliger can't talk to the pretty girl" D-plot that was tacked on, simply so Chris could lament his lost conversations with Doc.

My wife not only figured out the twist in the plot right away ("he'll be paid by check and he'll earn less than he did at Doc's") but she said, "do you really want to invest any more time watching this show?" If future episodes are as weak as this one, "Everyone Hates Chris" will live up to its name.

"Husbands and Knives (The Simpsons)", 11-18-2007

I have absolutely no idea where the writers of "The Simpsons" were going with this episode, but parts of it were quite funny. It might be an episode I'll care to watch in reruns, which is a high honor for any episode of "The Simpsons" after the 15th season.

The "A" plot deals with Marge realizing that she has gained a few pounds, after noticing that her outline bulges beyond the outline of the stand-up Wonder Woman poster outside of The Android's Dungeon. (After Marge is made fun of by the bullies -- Dolph, Jimbo and Kearney, Dolph and Kearney get into a fight about whether or not Kearney's mom is fat or if it's just a side affect of her depression medication -- a very funny moment for anyone who has had to deal with the side effects of depression medication.)

Marge decides to go to the hip, cool Springfield gym, but Marge is embarrassed as she is unable to even use the walking treadmill without looking like a fool. She decides to create a brand new gym for women called "Shapes". This gym for ordinary-looking women is extremely successful, and soon Marge is on the fast track to fame and riches.

Homer enjoys accompanying Marge on her business trips -- after all, it's free lodging and food on Marge's money -- until he comes across a group of husbands of high-powered, successful women in Marge's new social circle. These buff Adonises reveal that they are second husbands, telling Homer that the first thing their wives did after they became successful was dump the old lardasses they had married. However, one of the Adonises has pity on Homer -- he secretly reveals that he is a first husband, who through strength of will, eating right, and exercising daily, managed to transform himself into the figure he is today.

Homer writes this down, taking it all in -- and then has stomach stapling surgery with the plastic surgeon from "Pygmoelian" and "Large Marge". The stomach surgery causes Homer to lose a lot of weight, even though as Homer put it "food tastes like barf". However, the surgery causes the excess skin to sag from Homer's body, forcing Homer to resort to chip clips and large rubber bands to hide it. Homer returns to the plastic surgeon and tells the surgeon to give Homer all of the other surgeries he's got.

When Marge gets an award from Mayor Quimby, Homer shows up at the ceremony -- the plastic surgery has made him into a dark-haired bodybuilder who looks as monstrous as most bodybuilders look. This freakish Homer is chased by a pitchfork-wielding mob and chased (along with Marge) to the top of Notre Dame de Springfield. At the top of the tower, Marge reveals she wants a trophy husband and pushes Homer from the belltower to his death.

Homer wakes up in the hospital. It seems that when the doctor called Marge to get permission after Homer went under, Marge cancelled the surgeries and had Homer's stomach band removed. Homer is back to his old, flabby self, but Marge still loves him.

In the "B" plot, when Milhouse is charged $25 by the Comic Book Guy for accidentally tearing a comic book guy, Comic Book Guy reminds his many customers that they can either go to his comic store or to one of the nonexistent comic book stores across the street. Unfortunately, a new comic store has just moved in, run by a cool customer named Milo (Jack Black). The store has video games, and the store owner has Japanese hard candy to give out to the kids. When Lisa tears the page of a Tintin book by accident, the cool store owner tells her that books are to be read, not stored.

The Comic Book Guy loses all his business to the new store. (Where do you think Marge got the space to start her new gym? From the Comic Book Guy's old store, soon to be closed.) During a signing by independent comic writers and artists Alan Moore, Art Spiegelman and Dan Clowes (all playing themselves), the Comic Book Guy tries to win his customers back by pointing that Cool Guy couldn't be a true comic geek -- he has a girlfriend! (Comic Book Guy is also selling ninja swords to win back the geeks.) When this ploy fails, Comic Book Guy attacks the store's displays with a kitana, but Moore, Spielgelman and Clowes form a muscled superteam and defeat the Comic Book Guy's rampage.

(* * *)

Immediately, I can hear the voice of the Comic Guy in my head. "Continuity, Mr. Bowman! Where, oh where, is the continuity?"

There was no use of the reset button in this episode. As far as we know, Marge still has her successful chain of gymnasiums. As far as we know, the Comic Book Guy has lost his store, to remain out of business forever. What will happen to him? He'll be poor! And penniless! And unloved! And...no different from before, really. However, at the end the three comic book writers/artists/heroes are about to stop a meteor from hitting Springfield -- until they fly off to a benefit for old comic book artists, as the meteor gets closer....

Therefore, I suspect that the reset button will be punched next episode. Like Homer's singing career with the Be Sharps, Marge would probably remind the viewers that there's a perfectly good explanation as to where Marge's money went and how the Comic Book Guy got his store back -- there's just no space for it in this episode.

This episode was written by Matt Selman, who knows a bit about continuity-setting precedent. He wrote the episodes "Eight Misbehavin'", as well as "Behind the Laughter" and one of the better episodes "Trilogy of Error" (where Homer temporarily loses his thumb). There were many great moments in this episode:

* Milhouse's whining that he was going to celebrate Greek Orthodox Easter with the $25 he owes the comic book guy.
* The Korean version of "What's New Pussycat" playing in the new comic store.
* The animated version of the Tintin book Lisa is reading.
* Of course, the fight with the bullies.
* The fan service with Moore, Spiegelman and Clowes! (If you're a comic book geek like me, this was heaven!)
* Clowes's complaining that he doesn't want to work in independent comics and has dreamed of drawing "Batman" instead. (He shows Lisa his sketches of Batman's utility belt.)
* "The Watchmen Babies in V for Vacation".
* Spiegelman puts on a mask that looks like the face of his protagonist in "Maus" before getting ready to kick Comic Book Guy's ass.
* Marge's humiliating public shower.
* Milo's girlfriend (Strawberry) has a purse which is a lunchbox!
* The sign closing the Android's Dungeon, which looks like an old Spider-Man cover.
* Homer's bizarre new appearance.

A good episode, and for once, actually better than the "Family Guy" episode that followed it.

NEXT AMAZING ISSUE: After bashing continuity's head in, the Simpsons return to worship at the great porcelain god of continuity, as Kelsey Grammer returns for his final appearance as Sideshow Bob in "Funeral for a Fiend"!

"Sew Me What You've Got (Project Runway)", 11-14-2007

In most reality shows, being an ass can keep you from getting to the top, particularly in the "social-networking" shows like "Survivor" or "The Amazing Race". You never know when your douchebaggery will end up with you getting stepped on by everyone who finally gets sick and tired of you.

However, "Project Runway" is not a competition that requires on social skills. It would better be described as a reality talent competition -- like it or not, whatever you sew together and put on the models is what gets you the contract and now hot nice you are to everyone. Santino Rice was a jerk in Season 2, but he's probably better known than ostensible winner Chloe Dao. Jeffery Sebelia, an ever bigger douchebag than Rice, actually won Season 3.

Furthermore, like any group of people with an obsession (in this case, fashion), the personalities involved are a little...twisted. You don't have to make an effort to add emotionally challenged people to the show in the hope that sparks will fly; sparks will fly nonetheless.

The show begins in the reassuring way that every version of "Project Runway" starts -- all of the designers show up and we get a handle on them for about thirty seconds. Carmen is the Ex-Model Turned Designer. Kevin is the Heterosexual Designer Around Homosexuals. Elisa is the Flighty Earth-Mother Type -- she comes to design through designing marionettes. Sweet P is the Ex-Biker Chick. All of the viewers choose favorites, and all of the players are on their best behavior.

The group of fifteen models shows up at Bryant Park in New York City to meet host Heidi Klum and host/advisor Tim Gunn. Gunn is now a creative consultant with Liz Claibourne, having left his post at the New School but his function at the show remains unchanged. Heidi informs the models that the challenge will be for the designers to create a design that shows who they are as a designer. At the other end of Bryant Park are three tents filled with expensive materials. As soon as the models are given the signal, they may race to the tents and pick whichever materials they fancy -- whatever they can carry.

As Fey Christian outraces everyone for a particular plaid bolt of cloth, Fat Guy Chris is bringing up the rear, finally slowing down to a walk. Chris is so overweight that his jawline disappears in adipose, and he resigns himself initially to making do with whatever is left over. However, none of the other designers take the bolt of cloth Chris fancies, and Chris lucks out.

Elisa uses her knees to grind a bolt of cloth into the turf at Bryant Park. Elisa wants to make use of the natural color of grass stains. Everyone realizes that they have a weirdo on their hands -- and if these people think that Elisa might be a little odd, then that's a spectacular distinction.

Everyone returns to the studio for the most boring part of the show, the part where my attention lags -- the part of the show where the ideas in the designers' heads become reality. This requires a lot of snipping, measuring, and fussing, and has the effect of watching all 11 hours of design in just five minutes, so dull it is. Tim Gunn shows up to cluck at a few designers regarding measuring and construction and color and other choices, but he can't make too many suggestions (lest he become the designer). He simply tells the gathered to "make it work", while Tim Gunn fans wait for "Tim Gunn's Guide to Style" -- we are informed many times that a new episode will be following "Project Runway".

Finally, the models get up on the catwalk. Elisa has some interesting ideas with a cascading effect of cloth as the trail of a gown, but the cloth only serves as an anchor and the model almost trips on it. We see design after design after design, and at home, we're left to be our own judges. I liked the colors Simone chose, but my wife rightly recognized the shoddy construction of the final product. I thought Christian's work was well-finished; my wife noted that it looked off the rack. If you're not a professional designer -- or if you don't buy these kind of clothes to wear -- it's very hard to tell what works and what doesn't.

Afterwards, the panel of judges gabs about what they liked and what they didn't, but we're only given tantalizing glimpses -- do the judges simply talk for only 15 seconds about particular designs, or is there a six-hour conversation that has been edited to death? The group is split into halvsies. The one half that is neither spectacular nor abysmal is told they've survived, leaving six contestants trying to figure out where they stand -- are they hot, or are they not?

Even though Christian's final work got commendations from the judges, Rami won the coveted immunity -- he doesn't have to worry about being eliminated next week. Oddly enough, my wife and I both agreed that his final work looked like something that could have been worn at the toga party in "Animal House", but then again, we haven't designed clothes for Jessica Alba, like Rami has. (I suspect Rami is a ringer, given his bio.)

This leaves One-Gay-Among-Many-Ricky, Simone, and Elise to battle it out for bottom feeder. Ricky and his gay conductor's hat are sent away. Who is the biggest loser, Simone's badly built gown or Elise's over-the-top anchored disaster? In the end, the judges decide they're most disappointed with Simone, who gets sent packing before she could even earn a thumbnail description.

And so, goodbyes are said, thimbles are packed and we head into the next week of "Project Runway" -- the group design part of the competition. As in all three seasons before, the scissors will come out and everyone will be at their bitchy best, as having four designers design a gown is like having four cooks stirring a pot. Simone was cast out of paradise this week, but the "Era of Good Feeling" will come to an end, sometime before Thanksgiving.

"The Deposition (The Office)", 11-15-2007

"The Deposition", last night's episode of "The Office", ties off a plot thread that has existed since the end of Season Three -- namely, the consequences of Jan's firing from Dunder-Mifflin.

Jan, who was the clueless Michael Scott's former superior, moved in with Michael afterwards. Michael was left to deal with the emotionally comatose Jan. However, Jan decided to sue Dunder-Mifflin for several million dollars in a wrongful termination suit.

Jan preps Michael as to what to say in the deposition. Michael's role hinges as to whether or not Michael's relationship with Jan was an inappropriate one. (Michael, however, made sure to announce the relationship to HR, carefully storing the document as if it were a family heirloom.) However, when the picture of a topless Jan from Michael and Jan's vacation in Jamaica is made evidence, Michael finds himself tripped up as to his claims regarding when the relationship began -- the picture predates his official announcement of the relationship.

However, Jan is not unprepared. She introduces Michael's diary as evidence. The diary entry states that Jan didn't really consider himself in a relationship with Jan, to Michael's chagrin. (It also states that Michael thinks Ryan is "hot", in a purely heterosexual way.) The lawyers decide that the diary needs to be photocopied as evidence, and Michael enters the lunchroom to the sight of lawyers reading his private thoughts.

The prosecution, hoping to turn Michael as a witness, introduces Jan's performance review of Michael. Jan wrote that Michael was simply impossible to motivate (duh) and should have been demoted back to sales. The question is then posed to Michael -- "does he believe that his girlfriend is capable of making accurate judgments?"

The defense counters with a deposition of David Wallace, the Chief Financial Officer of the company. Wallace, in his written deposition, is asked if there was truly any serious consideration of having Michael replace Jan after her firiing. Wallace is forced to admit that Michael was never a serious candidate, but Wallace thought Michael was a nice guy.

So Michael's dilemma is: does he claim that Jan has proper judgment and admit he's a horrible boss? Or does he agree with Dunder-Mifflin, who never thought seriously of giving him a job, and just led him on?

In the end, Michael sides with Dunder-Mifflin. Jan's bringing the diary was the clincher. Michael says that he expects his employer to treat him badly -- but not his girlfriend. It is implied that Jan loses her case, and Michael and Jan drive back home very quietly. It is also implied that the Michael/Jan relationship is not yet at an end....

(* * *)

What's odd is that this is the second straight episode where Michael says something profound. In "Survivor Man", Michael and Jim commiserate on the perils of being a boss -- Jim tried to plan a communal birthday parties for some of the employees rather than having separate birthday parties for each employee. Michael tells Jim that he made that "rookie mistake", and it implies at least at some level that Michael is aware of his employee's needs -- if this were the British version of "The Office", David Brent would have indeed tried to plan a communal birthday party (undoubtedly to riotous results).

Now, he recognizes -- at least to the mockumentarians -- that Dunder-Mifflin might not be as great as Michael sometimes lets on. However, when Michael shakes hands with one of the execs at Dunder-Mifflin after the deposition, you can see that it's a humbling moment for Michael -- learning what Jan and the company really thought of him could not have been pleasant. (I expect Michael to shake it off quickly.)

As for the Michael/Jan relationship, it looks like they're a couple that is stuck with each other -- at least in the same way that Ryan and Kelly were stuck with each other in earlier seasons. Jan has nowhere else to go, it seems, nor does she seem to want to go anywhere else. As for Michael, he can't just get rid of Jan because he doesn't have the backbone to tell her to get lost. For now, they're left with each other's company, but I predict that this relationship has about as much chance of surviving as Ryan and Kelly's did -- seeing Michael playing the field gives more chances to see Steve Carrell be clueless and inapropriate.

The dilemma was an inspired bit of writing by new staff writer Lester Lewis -- would Michael Scott actually admit that he was a bad employee, even though Jan's multi-million dollar settlement hinged on it? Thank goodness Michael was able to leave with his sense of self-delusion apparently (mostly) intact.

However, the B-plot was dull. Jim and Darryl play ping-pong in the warehouse, and when Darryl beats Jim, Kelly Kapoor (Darryl's current girlfriend) begins to trash-talk Pam. (Kelly patiently explains to the mockumentarians the distinction between trash talking and "smack", which is what she claims she's doing.) In addition to making Kelly that much less likeable -- when did Pam every go out of her way to belittle someone? -- it illustrates a problem that "The Office" writers are having with Kelly Kapoor -- without Kelly's love of dreamboat Ryan, the character seems strangely undefined. Kelly's at her best when she's making some guy's life miserable, and Darryl is no Ryan, at least when it comes to humor. How many characters does this show have? Perhaps, they might need one less character if they can't find a role for Kelly. Let's hope they can.

(Incidentally, this is the final new episode of "The Office" for some time, due to the writer's strike.)

"Ugly (House, M. D.)", 11-13-2007

In this week's episode of "House M. D.", we are introduced to a young man who looks a bit like the Elephant Man, at least from the neck up -- he has a massive lump over his left eye and a deformed nose. The young man and his father are their way to Princeton-Gitmo to have cosmetic surgery to have the mass removed. A further complication is that the operation is being paid for by a documentary film crew, who will follow the progress of the young man -- and the doctors in diagnosing his condition.

However, this being the world of "House, M. D." a complication arises -- the young man has a heart attack on the operating table. Whatever has caused this young man's heart trouble must be diagnosed, or surgery will be an unsafe option. Both the young man and his father want the surgery done, which leaves House and his diagnostic team to have to decipher the problem.

House's group of candidates still remain and they are joined by Dr. Samira Terzi, the doctor House met at the CIA in the episode before, "Whatever it Takes". However, Dr. Terzi might be intelligent, but she doesn't possess the sheer amount of brilliance it takes to be a member of House's team -- that is made clear from the beginning. House quickly comes to rue his decision, and Wilson suggests that House might have been more impressed by her cup size than her intelligence. However, Terzi has left her career at the CIA and picked up to move to Princeton. So what is House to do?

A further complication arises when Dr. Taub, one of the candidates, is convinced that the young man is suffering from liver disease and not rheumatoid arthritis (as House believes). Taub has the trust of the family, and with the cameras rolling, Taub makes a bold power-play move. Determined not to be made a fool of by House in the documentary, Taub undercuts House -- he goes to the father and tells him that House's diagnosis is wrong and that he can get House thrown off the case.

Taub attempts to have House fired. House attempts to have Taub fired. Both firings are reversed, and the two will have to work together.

(* * *)

The Taub subplot is probably the most interesting part of "Ugly". Most of the time, House is never matched against someone who might be his equal, if not in intelligence than in confidence. Taub is a very confident man and doesn't seem to have much fear of going behind House's back. This battle of semi-equals was very interesting to watch, and I really wondered how House was going to get out of it and what House was going to do.

Of course, House's solution was to try to figure out why Dr. Taub left his successful plastic surgery practice and use the information to embarrass Taub. House finds out -- perhaps too easily -- but supposedly, "House cares about results" according to Foreman, so Taub surprisingly remains int the running to be in House's team.

However, this was a flawed episode. "Ugly" is the first episode written by Sean Whitesell, and indeed "Ugly" it was.

We get to see House's sexism on full display during this episode. House's comments towards Cuddy are particularly belittling -- will there ever be a day when Cuddy isn't wearing a low-cut blouse or a tight skirt and when House won't comment on her tits or her ass or her nipples? It seems that some ludicrous remark is the first thing out of House's mouth every time he sees Cuddy.

Undoubtedly, the premise is that House is an "anti-hero" -- he says these things to Cuddy to get a rise out of her, and Cuddy patiently ignores them. However, this "women are sort of inferior to men" meme is repeated many times. Dr. Terzi's intelligence level somehow plummets, and the only thing House and Wilson can talk about is whether or not her blouse is see-through. Cameron, who we would think would be well disabused of House as a romantic partner, turns into a stuttering schoolgirl from anime, letting it slip that she "loves" House. (If she's right, then House's behavior is justified; if she's wrong, then Cameron has no sense.)

Furthermore, Wilson comments on the mysterious candidate Number 13, a candidate so in the mold of Cameron that I often have trouble telling the actresses apart when they're on screen. (Remember: Cameron is now sort of blonde; Number 13 is firmly brunette.) Number 13 remains silent for most of the episode, leading once again to speculation that House has kept her on the committee because she is cute. (Dr. Volakis, the "cutthroat bitch" is clearly not for play.) She suddenly pulls the correct diagnosis out of her fundament at the end of the episode -- however, it doesn't redeem any of the suspicions about why Number 13 is on the team, and House's rampant sexism in this episode is little diminished.

Here's a question: what's the difference between making sexist comments and actually being a sexist? The premise is that House will say just about anything to get a rise out of people, but really -- what's the difference in the effect it has on the individual? We never get an "I was just kidding" from House, not even as a lame excuse.

Racism is seen to be a more serious crime than sexism in America, and House treads his comments with both Dr. Foreman and Dr. Cole very carefully. (It was religion that Cole thought over the line, earning House a punch.) But House's implication that Cuddy is a fine piece of ass is clearly meant to evoke chuckles. I wonder what the reaction would have been if he thought Foreman belonged back in the cotton patch.

There are two kinds of cutting comments one can make about someone. One set of comments are about what a person does -- House seems to limit his crude comments about Wilson to his touchy-feely approach to cancer and his bad luck with women. (Then again, Wilson is a white male who is handsome and rich, so what else can he make fun of?) The other set of nasty remarks one can make about a person regard the things that a person can't change -- about race, sex, religion. Those of the kind of remarks that take you out of the realm of being the next Dorothy Parker and put in you in a group with David Duke and all the other Klansmen.

Once again: what's the difference between making a racist comment to get a rise out of someone and making one because you're actually a racist? (Maybe you should ask Michael Richards about that one.)

I don't think House was any uglier in this episode that he's been in past episodes. Yet this continual theme of putting down Cuddy for her attractiveness has probably worn on my nerves. It's a good thing that House is a crippled genius, because if he weren't the second, he'd be out of Princeton-Gitmo in two seconds -- and if he weren't the first, someone might take his remarks in the wrong spirit and make him so.

"Everybody Hates Houseguests (Everybody Hates Chris)", 11-12-2007

In fiction, there's a concept called "suspension of disbelief". In order to enjoy the final product, an unwritten covenant exists between the creator and the consumer. The creator will be allowed to suspend the rules of reality within a restricted scope.

Take science fiction. Viewers watching "Spider-Man" will temporarily ignore the fact that a one-hundred fifty pound man can't swing through Manhattan on a thread, and viewers of "Star Wars" will ignore the absence of interstellar travel options at Delta Airlines. Every genre of fiction has these conventions. Soap operas expect betrayal and drama to happen at a rate thousands of times more frequently than expected in real life. Harlequin Romances expect smart, clever women to meet guys with pecs like Fabio.

Trangressions of this covenant, however, are punished severely. No, George Lucas, a bunch of walking teddy bears should not be able to defeat the massive intergalactic war machine. Aliens should not be speaking with Rastafarian accents. Seventy-year old men cannot mack on twenty-year old models -- I'm talking to you, Mr. W. Allen. The consumer says, "I'll accept this much of a violation of reality for you to tell a good story, but I expect restraint -- no more violations beyond what is absolutely necessary."

Even comedies have their various covenants. There are wacky comedies like the Austin Powers series, less wacky comedies like
Wedding Crashers and even less wackier comedy-dramas like Little Miss Sunshine. Since these covenants are never explicitly stated, the deal is usually sealed by watching the first few episodes of a serial comedy (or the trailer of a movie) -- "if you agree with these premises, we have a deal".

The premises of "Everybody Hates Chris" are fairly straightforward -- we thought. "Everybody Hates Chris" is sort of a coming-of-age comedy. The main character, Chris, suffers both through school (as the lone black kid in an all-white school) and at home, with his sometimes annoying family. There's a certain level of wackiness that is accepted -- the fact that Chris's teacher casually makes the most racist of statements, that Chris's mother Rochelle seems to be able to get jobs easily despite the fact that she must have quit hundreds of them by now, and that there is a suspicious lack of danger despite the fact that this is mid-80s Bedford-Stuyvesant.

Any real wackiness was limited to dream sequences which the narrator (Chris Rock) made clear were part of Chris's imagination. However..."Everybody Hates Houseguests" is a real rule-breaker of an episode.

The premise is that Chris's white friend Greg has his parents out of town for a week, and is not looking forward to staying at his grandparents. Chris makes the offer that Greg can stay at the family's Bed-Stuy apartment. Rochelle, Chris's mother, is initially against Greg staying, but gives in. When Greg arrives the first night, there is a banner welcoming him and Rochelle temporarily transforms into June Cleaver.

As Rochelle believes that guests must be given priority, the family's menu is (temporarily) changed to vegetarian and Greg has priority over television watching, with "Nova" substituted for "MacGuyver". However, Chris must bear the brunt of the annoyances as Greg shares a room with him.

Not only does Greg snore -- not only does Greg have a tendency to flail about in bed as he reimagines "Flashdance" in his sleep, but he has a further problem. It seems that as a habit carried over from childhood of fighting off monsters, Greg dresses like superheroes before going to bed to frighten the monsters away. Chris has to wake up Greg one morning -- with Greg dressed in the full regalia of Darth Vader, the mighty Sith Lord.

Yes, I was rolling my eyes. Eccentricity I can take; lunacy is another thing altogether. The "B" plot isn't much better. Chris's father, always on the lookout for another job, takes a part-time job as a taxi driver. While on the prowl for customers, a customer asks Julius to drive him to Las Vegas. Julius says no, of course, until he is offered $1000 to make the trip. Rochelle is fine with this, because hey, it's $1000!

However, the customer is actually a robber, holding up stores along the route with Julius completely unaware that his customer is the "taxi cab bandit" (we get to see this master criminal mentioned on a news cast, with authorities across the country on the alert). Julius obliviously makes it all the way to Las Vegas, where the police finally confront the two. There's some sort of subplot involving the customer's girlfriend, but by that time my attention had wondered completely away. You ever pick up a book and absent-mindedly flip through it when there's a show you've committed to watch? Well, guess what I was doing during this "B" plot.

We have to assume -- for comedic purposes -- that Julius has an IQ of 70. In sitcoms, a few brain-farts can be expected, where intelligent characters make commitments or say something clueless under a temporary mental haze. But the fact that Julius couldn't figure out what was going on beggars belief. Julius is the "strong-man" of the family; for Julius to be reduced to witless dupe is a major comedown.

Furthermore, Greg's massive weirdness would have had Chris's family calling social services. Yes, I know that everyone wants to rewrite "The Man Who Came to Dinner", and yes, we knew that Greg was weird -- but we not only didn't know that he was that weird, we also didn't know that anybody was permitted to be that weird in the "Everybody Loves Chris" universe. The creators of the show have suddenly changed the rules, and these sudden changes of the rules are usually the result of a writer's ineptitude -- "I'm going to change the rules of the universe to shoehorn in this awkwardly-written story."

Your first response might be, "hey, this is just a situation comedy, so have fun". Well, I never expected Fonzie in "Happy Days" to be able to spout wings. I never expected Mary Richards in "Mary Tyler Moore" to transform into a werewolf on moonlit nights. I'm sure you could have gotten a lot of funny episodes that way, but you would have changed the essence of what those comedies were about. There's a reason that "Jumping the Shark" because a catchphrase for the point that a series declines -- "Happy Days" at one time was a sitcom about a kid growing up in the 1950s; after a while it became a star vehicle for the "cool guy" to the point where more and more outrageous things had to be found for him to prove his cool. The shark-jump was the transgression; the show would no longer be what it once was, ever again.

My wife said, "They've finally run out of ideas," when she saw this episode. Yes, sweetheart, they did, at least for this week. I hope that Greg in a Darth Vader mask isn't the shark-jumping moment of "Everybody Hates Chris".

"I've Become the Archie Bunker of the Home! (The Amazing Race)", 11-11-2007

"The Amazing Race", for those who haven't seen it, is the American version of world travel, which I call "if this is Tuesday, this must be Belgium". Eleven couples in every sort of relationship you can imagine (friends, divorced, married, gay, straight, black, Asian, students, models, models, models, and models) compete in an around-the-world race split up into trials called "legs". The goal is to avoid showing up last in the leg -- the couple that shows up last for a particular leg is eliminated, and the couples are whittled down one by one until only two or three couples are left to race for the final leg (which usually finishes close to the initial starting point) and the couple finishing first in the final leg will win $1 million.

Of course, it can never be as straightforward as that. On each leg, couples might face:

* a detour, where the couples are given a choice of two tasks to complete before they can proceed,
* a roadblock, where only one member of a couple may complete a given task before proceeding,
* a fast forward, where the first couple performing a task may proceed directly to the end of the leg, or
* a yield, where the first couple arriving at the yield point might make a designated couple wait after arriving at the same yield point.

Of course, all of the tasks are "kooky" in that they are broadly indicative of what goes on in the given country. The detour for this episode involved two activities supposedly local to Amsterdam, furniture hoisting and bicycle riding. The roadblock was something called "ditch vaulting", which is just what it sounds like. Now, I'm sure that furniture hoisting -- using a tackle and pulley to carry furniture to the window of a building -- and bicycle riding aren't activities local to only Amsterdam. But you can expect such vaguely stereotypical activities to take place on "The Amazing Race" and viewers to get the same smattering of culture one might get when driving by the Grand Canyon really, really fast. "Too much in a hurry to take it in! Have to go forward!"

(I mean, what did the viewers expect? Wooden-shoe building? Dike-finger-stopping? Smoking hashish? A prostitution competition?)

When last we left the Racers, their numbers had been whittled down to ten. The couple Ari and Staella, the designated psychos of the mix this year -- every reality show has to have one contestant/couple that needs mental health counseling -- had already been eliminated, and viewers relaxed to a hopefully peaceful experience. We could finally relax and begin to choose "favorite couples", couples for whom one roots because they share one's problem-solving style or demographic representation. I've put my money on the Goths, Kynt and Vyxsin, due to the woeful underrepresentation of the Goth demographic in the modern media. (We can be further glad that they aren't depicted as trenchcoat-wearing sociopaths.)

And we could also settle down to watching every leg play out the same way that every other leg of "The Amazing Race" has played out, with the following scenes:

* The "I'm completely lost" scene, where a couple argues over the proper reading of a map. Usually a dissonant chord is played, and we fade to commerical.
* The "we're all waiting at the airport" scene, where everyone gets to the airport a little too early and stresses out over the limited availablity of tickets.
* The "we're wearing goofy costumes" scene. I'm surprised they didn't put everyone in Dutch Boy Paint outfits.
* The "I'm having a mental breakdown and making a fool of myself on national television" scene. Unfortunately, this scene takes place rather frequently.

Today's mental breakdown was brought to us by Ronald and Christina, who get to represent both the Asian demographic and the father-daughter demographic. From what I've been able to glean about Ronald and Christina (more on that later), Christina's goal was to form a closer relationship with her father, but it seems that daddy has some problems of his own. Her father prides himself on his "honesty", even when his "honesty" is frankly counterproductive. To paraphrase what someone once said about John Lennon, Ronald has cast himself in the role of "truth-teller", and as truth-teller, he is able to justify whatever pig-ignorant thing he chooses to do in the name of honesty.

Some illustrations: at one point, Nicholas and Donald, the son/grandfather duo, were pressing a ticket agent at an airport for tickets and were rather rude, causing the ticket agent to walk off camera. Ronald, of course, had to walk over and point how rude Nick was. Nick answered, ruefully, that he recognized that he was rude, but wanted to say a few things. Ronald, his ability to make a point muted by Nick's recognition of his own bad behavior, went off, saying quite loudly that he didn't need to hear any more information. Indeed, Ronald made more of a scene with his bad behavior than Nick had made.

And that was just his behavior towards complete strangers. Ronald would end up berating his daughter during slipups in the name of honesty, until a tearful Christine pointed out that Ronald's behavior would be counterproductive to them winning the race. Ronald was forced to concede the point, but even at the end, couldn't stop giving what he considered helpful advice in the ditch vault to Christine until Christine told him that his advice wasn't helping. (Ronald later said to the camera that he thought he could have done a better job.)

When thinking about Ronald and Christina, I'm reminded of one of the complaints about reality television, usually from Omarosas-in-training: "My behavior was a lot better than the behavior you saw on TV...'selective editing' made me look bad!" With the removal of Ari and Staella, a couple actually looking forward to their reign of terror, I figured that there would be peace in the valley, but the producers were able to whip up a big dose of Ronald and Christina. However, I suspect that in most instances, the camera never lies. There are some acts that are "beyond the threshhold" of good behavior, some acts that most normal people won't be tempted to commit no matter how much adverse pressure they face -- and really, how much pressure can you be facing in a game show? Ronald's actions don't necessary label him a Boston Rod type of personality, or make him the Puck of "The Amazing Race", but they portray that Ronald can be a jerk, at least sometimes.

As for the end, the last team to cross the finish line was Kate and Pat, the married lesbian ministers, which sends up a hallelujah chorus across Middle America, which is terrified that their kids might catch TEH GAY with only an exposure in the milligrams. But cheer up, as there's always the Goths. Your kids might be trying out eyeliner before you know it.