FIGHT

The EW TV Quiz

Recently, Julia and I put our reputations on the line as we went head to head in this battle of trivia. In the end, we both came up a little short (I blame the extensive reality show section) and now it's your turn. This is only a fraction of the 65 questions (and they picked the easier ones, all of them are multiple choice here) but will give you an idea of what they threw at us. Let us know how you do.

Read More......

You took me by the hand, made me a man...

It’s back! The Office is finally back! Thank god; I hate reality tv. This week's episode, "The Dinner Party," is a theme that I am quite familiar with. I love throwing dinner parties but thankfully nothing like this ever happens. I think.

We open with the Dunder Mifflin staff gearing up for some apparent overtime work. Michael Scott asks Jim about any plans (which Jim matter-of-factly states he doesn’t have since he’s stuck in the office) and then starts a very loud tirade about how it’s all BS to be here. He gets on the phone and has quite the shouting match with ‘Corporate’ by which I mean a dialtone and then let’s everyone go. Everyone but Jim. He corners Jim and asks him and Pam to a couples dinner. Before he can weasel out of it, Michael has got him by his own quote, “You said you didn’t have plans. That’s what you said.” In a talking head, Jim admits he and Pam have been dodging these invitations for a while, but will respect that, for once, he’s been outfoxed. I gotta give Michael credit too, it was a rare show of cleverness.

When Dwight eavesdrops on the conversation and then blatantly invites himself along, Michael has to admit that he can’t come since, “it’s couples only and besides [he] only has six wine glasses.” When he reveals that Angela and Andy are also invited, we cut across the office to a big “Hey-o” from Andy. In the talking head with Dwight, we just watch him try, unsuccessfully, to hold back his extreme hurt at being left out. Bravo Rainn Wilson. Unfortunately, this is also the last we see of the rest of the supporting cast. The first new episode of the Office and footage of the actual office is over before the opening credits.

After aforementioned credits (my god, I missed this opening theme. So good), Pam and Jim arrive at Michael and Jan’s condo and try to initiate some awkward greetings. When Pam presents Jan with a bottle of wine, Jan condescendingly mentions “it’ll be great to cook with.” Bitch. Though it was really bitchy, to be fair, you’re really supposed to cook only with wine you would be willing to drink. Jan makes a bunch of depricating remarks about the condo, which really seem to more just insult Michael, as he looks quite embarrassed. We see Jan’s Office and then her workspace. Filled with candles, one of which smells like a bonfire. Serenity by Jan. Jim can barely breathe in there. When Pam brings up that Jan has both an office and a workspace, Jan uses it as an opportunity to attack Pam’s ambitions in art. Remember when Jan was actually supportive of Pam’s aspirations to be an artist? Michael does a James Bond slash bon fire pun slash impersonation while Jan takes a huge huff of her candle and then reveals she uses them to alleviate frustration, irritation, anger, etc. Meanwhile, Pam and Jim just look awkwardly weirded out.

In the master bedroom, we see that they left out a video camera and the Jan spanks Michael. And everyone else just kinda shudders. Just a little too much detail. Gross. To distract from the obvious sexual overtones, Pam compliments the bench at the foot of the bed, which is actually revealed to be Michael’s ‘bed’. Apparently Jan has space issues and has to sleep in the entire bed by herself. When Michael tries to show how comfortable it is, he just casts an image of a poor, neglected dog.

We see Michael’s new flat screen tv, possibly as big as a 13” screen. Michael will just stand in front of it and watch it for hours. Everything about Michael’s life just seems so sad here. Michael also shows off the table he built (from scrap wood from the warehouse, I am assuming) and Jim and Pam give him some compliments (I think they feel bad for him too). Jan makes a thinly veiled reference about a Michael/Pam affair and after a moment of paralyzing horror, Jim moves the conversation to Michael’s dundies. Michael gives a backhanded compliment to Jan and Jim gives the look we all want to.

Thankfully, Andy and Angela show up as a distraction. Angela coldly rejects any hug greeting from Michael and Andy says tuna about ten times in the span of greeting Jim. Before presenting a bouquet of flowers to Jan, Andy kind of sweetly gives a flower to Angela but she rejects the show of affection. When it’s revealed that dinner will not be ready for another 3 hours, Jim and Pam look each other with a fear in their eyes that says “what the fuck did we get ourselves into?”

To fill this 3 hour void, they’re awkwardly sitting in the living room, drinking some red wine. To try and give a sophisticated impression, Michael critiques the wine as having “sort of an oaky afterbirth.” Jim, the only one listening, let’s that sink in and question him. No one else is paying attention and Jan quickly uses this as an opportunity to show case Hunter’s new album (he was her old personal assistant). Jim and Pam look at each other, barely containing their laughter, while Angela looks horrified; the lyrics, combined with Jan’s middle aged, white woman dancing reinforces the idea that Jan took Hunter’s virginity. Andy is completely oblivious, adding his own backing vocals and Jan tries to dance with Jim, who is completely not into it. When Michael insults Hunter, Jan fires back, insinuating that Pam and Michael are having an affair. Pam sneaks into the bathroom for a whispering head, saying that she “just wants to eat, which [she] realizes is a lot to ask for. At a dinner party.” I love it.

The group has moved on to play celebrities, my favorite party game. Andy has gone through an overly elaborate and complex system system of clues to lead to Joe Montana. Haha, I love celebrities. Jim, in a whispering head in the bathroom, reveals he is setting up a fake message about his apartment flooding to escape. Yet, when he tries to save Pam with him, Michael makes the astute observation that they both don’t need to go. Not thinking quick enough to get out of this, he just tries to abandon Pam. Pam will not let him go though, using coded language to force him to stay (trouble in paradise?). I’m not exactly sure who did the more despicable thing; especially since both Pam and Jim can do no. Either way, Jim is stuck still playing celebrities with Michael (who does not grasp the rules). Michael keeps saying the celebrity name and/or rhymes but Angela is completely oblivious and Jim is just playing dumb. “The first name is Tom…and he goes on a cruise, a Caribbean cruise.” “Katie Holmes.” “But he’s married to her!” “Oh, Dawson’s Creek.” Ahahhaha.

Afterwards, everyone is just sitting around, in an awkward silence. Pam makes a small gesture like she is shivering and Michael puts his jacket around her. Jan takes it as an attack on her and uses it as an opportunity to embarrass Michael. Again. Apparently, Michael ran through the glass door because he likes ice cream (but I mean, who doesn’t love ice cream?). Michael’s retort about Jan suing people is actually pretty funny. Then they make a fake joke about being the devil and being in hell but Angela complains. Trying to get out of there, Pam makes a dash for the kitchen. Too bad Jan uses it as a way to make a girls trip. Angela looks irritated at the request.

Jan checks on dinner, which is “not even close.” Pam looks quite dismayed. Jan finally makes clear that she is under the impression that Pam and Michael used to date. Pam, disgusted, tries to convince (in the least insulting manner) that she never wanted to date Michael but no one believes her, Angela continuing to back Jan on her accusations. I still don’t know why because she spent a lot of time pointing out how much Pam stared at Jim in past seasons.

In the garage, Michael gives a pitch to Jim and Andy about becoming investors in Serenity by Jan. Andy, without missing a beat, agrees. When Jim shows hesitation, Michael admits that it’s poor form. Thankfully, the doorbell chimes.

At the door, Dwight and his “date” appear, holding wine glasses and a cooler of food. When Pam sees that Dwight has shown up, she just smiles and says “awesome.” Which was my exact same reaction. Michael stands up for Dwight, saying that Dwight provided the means to accommodate him. Then Michael goes on a long tirade that is just so phenomenal that it is just a scene you have to see. “You have no idea the physical toll that three vasectomies have in a person!” They storm off and Dwight is just left standing at the threshold, still wondering if he can come in. Anybody else would be wondering if they could get out.

At the dinner table, only Dwight and his date are actually eating since they brought a roasted turkey and beet salad. Dwight tries to talk to Angela but she just shoots him down. Meanwhile, Michael whispers about threats of poison to Pam. In a whispering head in the bathroom, Pam points out that crazy Jan would probably try to kill Michael’s ‘former lover’. When Jan criticizes Michael and his ‘soft teeth,’ he storms off. Jim tries to open a conversation with Dwight’s “date” who was actually his babysitter; he is just filled with questions but when he tries to get her email address, she responds with one of her own. “Email?” and Jim realizes that it is a dead end. Meanwhile, Dwight tells everyone that “it’s purely carnal and that’s all you need to know.” Actually, it’s way more.

Michael returns with his St. Pauli Girl neon beer sign and even Andy gives a look like, “this is gonna get awkward.” It starts an escalating fight with Jan turning on Hunter’s album again and then smashing Michael’s tv with his dundie. Aww. Jan storms off in tears and the rest of the guests (except Dwight) take it as their cue to leave.

The cops arrive and Dwight tries to talk to them, but is brushed off. I remember when Dwight mentioned his laser tag team and wonder if that was made up too. Sometimes I think only cousin Mose is his friend. Michael explains that nothing is going on, except that Jan threw a dundie at his tv. When asked if he wants to press charges, Michael says that he will take the fall. The cops just look at him and say, “you don’t have to press charges…” Cue Jan running out like a crazy person. The cops, wisely, ask that Michael stay with one his friends tonight. Dwight leaps at the opportunity but Michael turns to Jim and Pam. Jim recalls that his apartment is on fire. Pam corrects him that it is flooded and Dwight whisks Michael away.

At a fast food stand, Pam and Jim enjoy burgers and call each other babe (mocking Michael and Jan’s behavior all night). It eerily reminds me of Alex and Emily. Now I don’t think I can keep a straight face when I hang out with them. Jim reveals he stole Hunter’s cd and we are treated to a montage of all the party guests in the aftermath of the night. Angela and Andy are getting ice cream and when Andy steals a little nibble, Angela smashes her cone into the side of his car. I feel bad for Andy because he keeps trying to be sweet and Angela just keeps acting like a bitch. Dwight drives Michael home and completely blows off his babysitter, standing at the bus stop. Jan desperately tries, and fails, to repair the dundie she smashed. A symbol of everything wrong with her relationship.

A couple closing remarks: while a fun episode, I wish the cast would get back to office based episodes. There have been a lot of episodes where the main action is focused on outside settings; let’s get back to our roots. Also when did Jan go completely bat shit? Remember when she was pseudo-normal? Oh well. I’m just glad that everyone is back.

Read More......

How to make shows better...

With sweet theme songs

Read More......

Back in Action

This week on Lost we are reacquainted with our long missing friend, Michael. Personally, I would’ve liked him to stay missing but I guess this is just the way the cookie crumbles. So suck it up because there’s still enough demanding to see his boy in this episode to make up for all of last season (even in just the Previously On…).


Locke has apparently called a town meeting to get information out in the open. Even Miles gets to come, meaning the grenade is out of his mouth; lucky him! So the boat wants Ben, then they kill everyone, and also Ben’s spy is Michael. So the losties are finally caught up with the rest of us. I love Hurley’s comments about how Miles only shares what “[they] knew that forever ago” and how Sawyer recaps the highlights of Michael’s time on the island (i.e. he’s a selfish douche). I mean, Michael did kill a chick that Sawyer banged and left him in the hands, bound and blinded, of the enemies. So I can see why Sawyer is still pissed. Locke is way too nonchalant about giving everyone who has crossed him a second chance. Yet killed Boone. Did I mention I hate Locke?

On the boat, no one told me that Sayid and Desmond’s room was actually an NYU dorm. In the middle of the night, the fire alarm starts going off and they run up to the deck. Oh wait, it’s not a fire alarm, it’s a fight alarm. Apparently, it’s to wake sleeping crew members to get their asses to the weekly fight club meeting. “The rules of desertion…still apply to everyone.” Castration? Isn’t that what was gonna happen to Edward Norton? No, I guess the captain is just pissed because two dudes were sneaking off the boat to go make out with out him. Anyways, the captain reminds the crew of what happened to Minkowski (I called him Crazy Joe earlier) and I guess everyone goes back to their jobs. Michael was called over to clean the blood and when Sayid confronts him about what he’s doing, Michael just ominously says that he’s “here to die.” Ooooooh.

After the town meeting, Sawyer confronts Locke about leaving out the part where Miles wants the millions of dollars from Ben. Locke claims he just didn’t think it’d happen but Miles makes the astute point that Ben is able get want he wants. He got free of Locke’s capture and this is after shooting him. So Miles isn’t as dumb as he looks, just douchy.

Ben uses the time to give Alex a map to the temple (where the other Others are hiding). Ben plays on Rousseau’s and boyfriend’s fears but Alex stares him down and calls him dangerous and not trustworthy. Still, they take their leave and I can’t help but feel things are not on the straight and narrow.

Sayid and Desmond confront Michael a second time, wanting answers to why he’s here. The extra is given a lame excuse to go off screen. The second he’s gone, Sayid does some sweet threatening and Michael probably peed his pants a little. This leads us in to our flashback of the week. Or really just episode of the week.

Michael is living in New York City (w00t!) and gets in his crummy car with new stereo. He pins a note to his jacket and drives off. After Desmond’s episode, I was half hoping for a sweet Back to the Future type deal with a time traveling car but all I get is Michael trying to kill himself. Well, that’s okay…except for the operative word being trying.

He wakes up in the hospital, full of tubes and shit. LAME. His roommate is comatose and when the nurse walks in, oh no! It’s Libby! Oh no wait, it was just a dream. If that’s how this series wraps up, heads are gonna roll. The real nurse makes a coma patient joke and I don’t know if it’s inappropriate or not.

Michael arrives at his mother’s doorstop and they argue a bunch. Apparently Walt is not speaking to Michael and they both live in secrecy. Michael’s mom is not happy about raising Walt and I think grandparents in general just make bad parents because they’re tired of doing the family thing. Walt watches him from the window, obviously disgusted.

Michael then goes to pawn Jin’s watch for a gun. I can’t believe that he’s betraying another lostie’s friendship and faith by pawning it. He really does deserve to die. In the alley, just as he’s about to plug himself, a man asks for the time and Michael hides the gun. I don’t really understand the logic behind it but I guess it’s Lost. It turns out to be Mr. Friendly and he wants Michael’s help. However, he doesn’t want to listen and tries several times, in vain, to attack him. Michael just sucks at this. Mr. Friendly seems generally appalled that Michael would weigh his own son down with his guilt and I’m in the same camp. Don’t burden your child with your own demons. Mr. Friendly leaves his contact information and returns the gun.

Back in his apartment, Michael tries to kill himself again but the gun doesn’t fire. And then the news broadcast of Oceanic Flight 815 convinces him to see Mr. Friendly. Apparently at the hotel suite, Mr. Friendly is entertaining a “friend,” Arturo. Is Mr. Friendly gay? I think that’s a weird detail to throw in. He shows evidence that Widmore staged the crash site and I am not sure who is more believable. But I don’t think I really care. Mr. Friendly reveals that Michael is being planted to kill everyone on board the ship. You know, to save all the friends he abandoned before. Cue dramatic music.

We see Michael meeting the crew members Minkowski and Naomi at the port. I don’t really know why they’re being introduced, mostly because it’s really boring. Though, we do see the box he was mailed. Naomi makes ‘fuck me’ eyes at Michael as he boards and he runs into Michael. Miles knows he’s lying but doesn’t care, even offers him an orange. This is the most redeeming scene for Miles’ character that will probably be made. Offering an orange. Michael gets a phone call from Mr. Friendly, making sure Michael follows through by reminding him of the people he has to save on the island.

Out at sea, Frank introduces himself and they start talking. Frank confides that he knows the wreckage is a fake. And I think that makes Michael quite nervous. Back in his room, Michael contemplates the box and his mission. Later, he watches a bunch of hillbillies use HKMP5s to shoot clay pigeons. Where’s the bottle of moonshine you hicks? But this only serves to make Michael even more nervous, and I don’t blame him. Rednecks with guns is not the most secure or comforting idea. Not when you’re stuck with them on the boat you were sent to destroy. They dismiss him as a mere janitor and he looks ready to start kicking ass.

Back in his room, he can still see those yokels as he takes out a metal suitcase from his crate. Once in the engine room, he opens it and reveals (behind a cleverly made façade of fake tools) a bomb. As he is about to arm the bomb, he has a hallucination of Libby who tells her not to do it. Do you think he also feels guilty about Ana-Lucia? Either way, he ignores her and presses execute. After the anti-climactic non-explosion, a compartment opens up and inside is a note that reads “Not Yet.” Oh Ben, you’re such a joker. Tricking people into not really committing mass homicide is good one.

Confused as shit, Michael just plays with a ball (not his balls) in his room and Minkowski comes in and makes a Shining reference then relays that Michael has a call waiting, it’s apparently Walt. I like Minkowski more and more, I mean he plays Hold ‘Em and watches The Shining. Too bad he died traveling through time.

When Michael eagerly picks up the headset, he disappointed to find only Ben on the other line. Honestly, did he really think Walt would’ve figured out where he went and how to reach him? Anyways, Michael is pissed about the joke and Ben is surprised that he went through with it. Ben used it as a mindfuck to show what a good guy he is, not willing to kill innocents to win. When Michael brings up Ana-Lucia and Libby, Ben spits back that it was all Michael’s volition. Good point Ben. And Michael feels like shit again. Good. What Ben really wants is another list of names (what is with the Others’ fascination with lists of names?) and then to disable all the equipment on board the ship. Michael once again agrees to Ben’s plan (I mean, at this point what else is he gonna do?) and thus ends how Michael came to be.

Sayid is less than impressed with this story and so am I. Especially since Michael admits to working with Ben, they’re enemy since forever ago. So Sayid does the rational thing and starts beating the crap out of him and outs the traitor to the captain. He blabs everything about Michael and it seems like the shit is gonna hit the fan.

On the journey to the temple, Rousseau and the others take a break and rest. Karl’s premonition about trouble is assuaged by Alex but then the bullets start flying and he’s shot down. Poor guy, he was so loyal to her. Rousseau and Alex plan to make a run for it but Rousseau gets gunned down too, leaving Alex alone with these snipers that she cannot see. Honestly, I never really liked Rousseau, she was kind of a dirty hippy. Finally, Alex announces that she is Ben’s daughter, probably hoping they won’t kill her. And with that we take a midseason break.

LOST

Read More......

Friends are the DNA of society, the building blocks of life...

Lately, life has been a little too realistic. Too much on my mind. And how do I get through this mess? Relying on those around me.
Remember when I got in a huff because someone said television based friendships are artificial and shallow? I’m still pissed about it. Not only has television united me with some dear friends, it has inspired in me the kind of friend I should be. This is why I love tv.
Here are five of the most poignant, remarkable quotes (in no particular order) that are reminders why I believe that television truly can foster friendship through example.

“This guy's walkin' down a street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out. A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, "Hey you! Can you help me out?" The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole, and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, "Father, I'm down in this hole; can you help me out?" The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. "Hey, Joe, it's me. Can ya help me out?" And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, "Are ya stupid? Now we're both down here." The friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before and I know the way out."” – Leo McGarry to Josh Lyman (The West Wing)

Leo McGarry is the greatest political mind. Ever. But, like all of us, is still human. He has struggled with his personal demons. Yet, these very trials are quintessential to the advice he can give. His own experiences guide those around him through disaster. And when he sees Josh stumble, he picks him up and tells him not to worry. Someone who will jump down in that hole to help you out is someone you want with you. Dedicated to my friend Josh.

“When you can’t run anymore, you crawl. And when you can’t do that, you find someone to carry you.” – Tracey to the crew of Serenity (Firefly)

Though Tracey is an, ultimately, inconsequential character, this quote best illuminates the tenants that Mal and the rest of the crew fully believe in. You don’t leave another behind. You pick them up because they’d do the same for you. For all his faults, I really wish I could be like Mal. Dedicated to my friend Tim.

“‘You're going to die if you stay here.’
‘I guess I might.’
…
‘Come with me.’
‘I can't.’
‘Why not?’
‘I got friends on the line.’” –Xander to Anya (Buffy: the Vampire Slayer)

Xander feared this approaching apocalypse more than any before. If the heavy handed symbolism of graduation as the end of world did not sink in before, it should here. But the real importance of this quote is Xander’s loyalty and steadfastness. Some have would consider him the weak link of the scoobies but Xander is the only one who only had himself to offer. And always did. Dedicated to my friend Julia.

“It seems to me that more and more we've come to expect less and less from each other and I want us to start bucking that trend.” – Dan Rydell to his fellow cast and crew (Sports Night)

Dan was going through some personal issues at the time and had snapped, on air, thus risking not only his career but everyone he works with. The network was already facing dire straits and he wasn’t helping. He swallowed his pride to try and amend the rift that he had caused. They need each other and so do we. Dedicated to my friend Dan.

“I think we all learned a valuable lesson about faith. You give it to the people you love. But the people who really deserve it are the ones who come through, even when you don't love them enough.” – Veronica Mars about being rescued by Logan and Keith (Veronica Mars)

No one could argue that Veronica Mars’s life has been ideal. A parent abandons you. A best friend is murdered. A father ostracized. A boyfriend on meds. You’re raped at a party and no one case. No, things could be better, so it’s pretty reasonable to understand that after all this trauma, one would want to be a little reclusive. That loss of innocence, though, is so heartbreaking and I fear that it isn’t near rare enough. Which is why I am glad that pushing away those around us is something that sometimes we can take back. Sometimes we should hold onto our idealism, so that we have something to aspire to. Dedicated to my friend Kyle.

Read More......

Rally's On

Remember TV? And I don't mean American Idol and reruns of Cheers, I mean turning on your television and seeing a brand new episode of a scripted show, with actors and scripts and whatnot. Well, it's coming back-- more specifically, The Office is coming back tomorrow, Thursday the 10th. But it's been a long, hard strike, and you may not remember the last episode that aired way back in November. So, for your convenience, here's my recap of episode 4.08, The Deposition. (And don't worry, I will eventually keep recapping Mad Men! I got a little busy, but then I downloaded the Mad Men theme song as a ringtone for my cell phone, and every time I get a call I think, "Man, I gotta watch the rest of the show.")

Michael’s in a meeting with the accountants when Pam comes in with a post-it note. Pam talking heads that whenever Michael is in a meeting he makes her come in with a post-it note and tell her who’s on the phone, so he can act important and say he’ll call back later. “The thing is, he doesn’t get that many calls, so he has me make them up every ten minutes.” We see Pam bringing Michael post-its that say “Good morning,” have a drawing of a smiley face, and, to Michael’s meeting with Ryan, a cartoon hot dog saying, “Hiya buddy!” I can totally relate to Michael because one of my favorite things to do is screen calls when I’m hanging out with friends, because it says, “I like you so much that I’m going to make this person, who I like less, wait to talk to me until you’re not around.” But maybe I only feel this way because my mom and sister are the ones calling most of the time.

Michael looks at the hot dog post-it and tells Ryan that although an important client is on the line, Ryan is more important. This backfires when Ryan insists that Michael take the call. Pam fakes putting a call through, and Michael fakes answering it. It’s not much of a punchline.

In Michael’s sweet PT Cruiser, Jan and Michael are on their way to New York for the deposition in Jan’s wrongful termination case against Dunder Mifflin. I love at the end of season three when David Wallace tells Jan that they should have fired her long ago, because, “You smoke constantly in your office. You spend most of the day online shopping. You disappear for hours at a time, sometimes days. Always saying you're visiting your sister in Scottsdale.” Switch in drinking for smoking, and that’s exactly how I plan to self-destruct when I’m inevitably stuck in a soul-killing, dead-end job. Michael tells a different story to the camera: “They fired her for having the courage to augment her boobs.” Jan jumps in with her thesis statement, which is that DM “displayed a pattern of disrespect and inappropriate behavior.” Michael starts making up memory devices to remember this phrase, and is also trying to convince Jan to put the convertible top down (she doesn’t want to mess up her hair). Michael is excited at the thought of getting 4 million dollars in damages if Jan wins, and I don’t blame him. Jan could buy a lot of matching sweatsuits with 4 mil. We get the sense that Jan’s been coaching him harder than a Romanian gymnastics coach on what he’ll say during the deposition, but she tries to cover up for the cameras and says, “He’s just going to tell the truth, but the truth is very complicated. So we went over it very carefully just so we wouldn’t leave anything up to chance or Michael’s judgment.”

In the lobby of Dunder Mifflin corporate, Jan is trying to tame her windblown hair (Michael won their top up or down battle) when Ryan comes in and asks to talk to Michael alone. Ryan’s facial hair is like, “Behold my powers of douchiness!” In the hallway, Ryan starts by asking Michael if they can “talk off the record, as friends.” Ryan’s such a manipulative weasel that I can’t help but adore him. I’m hoping and praying for the spin-off to involve Ryan, Darryl and Kelly in a Felicity/Ben/Noel-type love triangle. Ryan continues, “Jan has put the company in a very tough position here… we just want to make sure that you won’t do anything to hurt us with your testimony.” Michael looks thrilled to be able to assure Ryan that he’ll do anything to help the company, but also like he’s getting some idea that he’s about to be ripped into little shreds by this situation.

In the warehouse, Darryl is kicking Jim’s ass at ping pong. Pam tells us that “the warehouse guys got a ping pong table last week, and now Jim comes down and plays with Darryl. Sometimes I bring him juice. My boyfriend is 12.” Aw! As Jim misses the ball, Kelly (wearing a great purple wrap dress) comes over to Pam and gets her bitch on. “What has two skinny chicken legs and sucks at ping pong? Guess who’s boyfriend it is?” Pam doesn’t want to guess. “I’ll give you a hint: it’s not my boyfriend. I think it’s the guy over there.” In an interview, Kelly says, “I don’t talk trash. I talk smack. Trash talk is all hypothetical, like ‘Your momma’s so fat she could eat the internet.’ But smack talk is happening, like, right now. Like, ‘You’re ugly and I know it for a fact because I got the evidence right there [complete with in-your-face hand gestures].’” I don’t think I need to mention that Kelly is my hero and an inspiration in all I do and hope to one day be.

Up in the office, Pam asks Jim to join her in the conference room. He’s probably like, “Yes, are we finally going to have middle-of-the-day sex at work?” Last night I was discussing TV-related dreams with my roommate, and we agreed that while having a dream in which you get with Jim is great, you feel kind of bad afterwards for coming between him and Pam. Uh, anyway, Pam’s turned the table into a makeshift ping pong table. She tells him he has to practice and “get really good and beat Darryl.” Jim matter-of-factly tell her that he can’t beat Darryl, and is surprised to learn that Kelly’s been trash-talking Pam about his lack of skills. Is Jim deaf to not hear all this going on three feet away from the table? But I don’t care about the contrivance, because it gives us a brilliant montage of insults from Kelly: “Your boyfriend is so weak, he needs steroids just to watch baseball.” “Jim couldn’t hit a ping pong ball if it was the size of the moon.” “Were Jim’s parents first cousins who were also bad at ping pong?” I don’t want to criticize, but, according to Kelly’s definition, those are all instances of trash talk, not smack talk. Although, I love that in those scenes they’re wearing the same clothes, so Kelly said all these things to Pam in one day. Jim clarifies, “So you’re asking me to defend your honor against Kelly?” He accepts the assignment, because he’s the perfect boyfriend.

At corporate headquarters, DM’s chief counsel comes out to greet Michael and Jan, but Michael freaks out when he sees that Toby is there too. “What is he doing here? Are you renewing your divorce vows before my deposition?” The low blow that doesn’t really make sense: Michael’s specialty. Toby mildly says, “I’m your HR rep. I’m on your side.” Michael tries to pretend he has any influence and says he won’t talk until Toby leaves, but forgets about it two seconds later. I would also watch a Toby spin-off, maybe following him moving to the big city with his adorable daughter Sasha and reentering the dating world, co-starring Kristen Johnson as his crazy ex-wife and Kristen Davis as the flirty single mom in the apartment next door. In the deposition room, Michael is sworn in and then parrots the line about disrespect and inappropriate behavior. Jan looks as proud as a new pet owner whose puppy finally learned how to pee outside. In an interview, she says, “People underestimate Michael. There are plenty of things he is well above average at. Like… ice skating.”

In Scranton, Pam tells Kevin that Jim needs help with something in the conference room. He walks in and says, “Oh, AWESOME,” because Kevin is my kind of guy.

Jan’s lawyer asks Michael how long he’s known the plaintiff, and Michael goes off on a John Grisham tangent. The lawyer clarifies that he meant Jan, and Michael says that he’s known her “six years and two months.” Aw, do you think Michael celebrated the 74 month anniversary of the day they first met? The lawyer asks, “And you were directly under her the entire time?” Michael automatically replies, “That’s what she said.” I can’t blame him; that’s the kind of set up you really can’t let go. Unfortunately, the other people don’t get it. “Mrs. Levinson told you she was your direct superior?” the lawyer asks. Michael doesn’t get that they don’t get it, and it goes around in circles until the court recorder has to read back the transcript. Michael notes that her “delivery is all wrong. Butchered the joke.” Heh. After reading The Westing Game I really wanted to learn the shorthand writing court recorders use, but that never happened.

Kelly goes to walk into the women’s bathroom just as Pam is leaving. The two stand off in the doorway for a second until Pam moves to the side. Kelly: “Yeahhh, that’s what I thought.” Kelly’s such a mean girl and I fucking love it.

The lawyer (I’m sure they said his name but I can’t remember it, so sorry) asks Michael if Jan said why she thought she was getting fired. Michael very maturely answers, “The twins. They hang off m’lady’s chest. They make milk.” Then the lawyer asks if Jan’s relationship with Michael had something to do with her firing, and Michael brings out the HR agreement they both signed (he framed it! I love how even in this very depressing episode there’s a very sweet quality to Michael’s love for Jan) before they started dating. But Dunder Mifflin’s lawyer can top that: she has a copy of the photo of Jan sunbathing topless in Jamaica that Michael forwarded to the entire company. Somehow, Jan never knew about this happening, which I guess is believable if she’d been out of the office a lot and really isolated from her co-workers. DM’s lawyer pushes him to clarify the timeline of their relationship, and Michael says everything he wasn’t supposed to: “Well, it depends on how you define ‘begin’ [So Clintonian!]. If it’s from the first time we shook hands, like six years ago. If it’s from the first time we kissed, then it’s like two years ago. If it’s the first time we kissed sober, it was like four months after that.” Jan’s lawyer wants to take a break, but DM’s lawyer wants some answers. Michael says, “line,” as if he’s in a play. Jan realizes that this is probably not going to end well for either of them.

After the commercial, the court recorder is reading back Michael asking if he can go to the bathroom so he can get out of the question. Michael looks at the camera, but he’s getting no help from anyone.

In the office, Meredith leaves the conference room as Jim tells her good game. She flatly says, “Don’t patronize me.” I totally stole that line at the end of this year, when comparing with my friend Andrea the lists we both kept of how many books we had read in 2007. It’s not supposed to be a competition, just a sort of reading journal, but I turn everything into a game so I was not pleased that she read like 15 more books than I did. And she would say, “Well, you still read a lot of books,” and I’d say in my coldest tone, “Don’t patronize me.” It’s ok, I’m going to kick her ass in 2008. Dwight storms into the conference demanding to know what is going on. Jim says, “Thank god you’re here. As it turns out, one of our biggest clients is a ping pong master, and I have to play him tomorrow or we lose the account. Will you help me practice?” Pam’s in the background, nodding like, “Damn, that’s smooth.” I would be maybe concerned to find out I’m dating such a skilled liar, but it’s Jim, and Jim is perfect, and Jim and Pam have a fluffy puppy relationship, so she’s probably fine. Dwight agrees to help, and it’s not very surprising to learn that he’s a table tennis pro. He talking heads that all of his heroes are table tennis masters, and that he has a life size poster of one on his wall. “The first time I left Pennsylvania was to go to the Hall of Fame induction ceremony” of some guy who’s name I can’t spell. Wouldn’t it be cruel if the Table Tennis Hall of Fame didn’t have any tables just sitting around for visitors to play on? Oh, and that’d be cool if there were some retired Hall of Famers standing around for you to play against.

At corporate, Michael’s managed to get it together and explains that he and Jan “had an on-again, off-again relationship for two years. And I know this destroys her case, and I’m sorry, but I’d like to throw myself on the mercy of the deposition.” Michael thinks he’s done, but Jan’s lawyer has a trump card: Michael’s diary. Betrayed!! I love how the lawyer calls it a journal in order to preserve some measure of Michael’s dignity, but Michael calls it a diary nonetheless. It even has the word ‘diary’ embossed in silver on the leather cover! Did he buy it at Limited Too, I wonder? The lawyer starts reading an entry out loud, and I swear, this situation is my biggest nightmare. On January 4th, 2007, Michael wrote, “Just got back from Jamaica. Tan almost everywhere. Jan almost everywhere. Hehe. Oh diary, what a week. I had sex with my boss. I don’t know if it’s going to go anywhere. Jan was very specific that this is not going anywhere, that it was a one-time mistake. But we had sex six times so you tell me. I am definitely feeling very eerie. More tomorrow, xoxo, Michael.” The only thing missing would be if Michael gave the diary a name and addressed all entries “dear Tiffany” or something. The lawyer concludes that it seem as if neither Michael or Jan considered that they had a relationship. Jan’s nodding her head, but can’t bring herself to look at Michael. DM’s lawyer wants to see a copy of the entire journal, and Michael makes what I think is a good point, that “I don’t think anyone in this room has the right to read my diary.” Oh man, if I were him I would lunge across the table, rip the diary from the lawyer’s hands, start running and not stop until I reached Canada. The judge (or mediator or whatever) agrees that they’ll make ten copies, but Toby interrupts to ask if he can have one too. That’s evil, but who can blame him?

They break for lunch, and in the cafeteria Michael looks around and sees everyone he knows reading his diary. Unable to sit with Jan or Ryan, he finally goes to Toby’s table. Toby puts the diary away and starts empathizing. He says, “When I was a kid, my parents got divorced. They both wanted custody, and they both asked me to testify against the other one in court. And I didn’t want them to get divorced in the first place. I loved them both so much, I just wanted…” Toby’s act of baring his soul to comfort Michael is interrupted when Michael reaches over and pushes Toby’s tray of food onto the ground. Poor sad sack Toby. Michael gets up and leaves.

Michael and Jan are putting their trays away at the same time, not looking at each other. He asks her how she could steal his diary, and she says, “I’m sorry, I had to. I have to win this.” Or… she could get a new job? He asks how she found it. “You keep it under my side of the mattress.” “I don’t like the lump.” Michael’s such a princess. Jan says, “Alright, I stole your diary and gave it to my lawyer. You emailed a topless photo of me to everyone in our company. Let’s call it even.” They exchange angry “I love you”s and walk away in opposite directions.

Back in the deposition, DM’s lawyer asks Michael about “this other woman, Ryan, who you refer to as just as hot as Jan, but in a different way.” Heh! He says, “not another woman, just a cool, great-looking, best friend.” Toby can’t help himself from giggling at the situation. I wish Ryan was in the room too so we could see that horrified silent stare he’s so good at. Remember in the Valentine’s Day episode where Michael tells Jan’s boss that he was joking about them dating, and that it was just a misunderstanding? This is pretty much the same thing. Michael tells the lawyers that although he considered Jan his girlfriend, she didn’t feel the same, so “her actions are completely rightful.” DM’s lawyer tells him it’s “admirable that you continue to defend a woman whose feelings towards you are so obviously ambivalent.” Michael thanks her, and hey, ambivalent is kind of a tough vocab word. I use it a lot, but only because I tend to be ambivalent towards almost everything (except ping pong, and Kelly. There’s no ambivalence in my love for ping pong or Kelly).

DM’s lawyer points out that Jan consistently gave him poor performance reviews, and Michael explains that “that was before our relationship. She was going through a divorce, and she was drinking a lot… of water.” The lawyer brings out a review from March, after their relationship became official. He reads Jan’s review of him out loud: “I am out of carrots. I am out of sticks. Mr. Scott has time and again proven himself to be an unmanageable employee and a poor branch manager. I recommend that he be removed from that position and reassigned to sales where he belongs.” The thing is, Jan’s totally right to suggest that Michael go back to sales, since it’s something he’s actually good at. The lawyer asks, “after reading that, wouldn’t you at least say that Mrs. Levinson’s judgment is very seriously flawed?” Man, everyone in this room is very seriously heartless. Michael’s eyes get a little watery and he doesn’t respond.

Commercials. Dwight is still kicking Jim’s ass at ping pong. Pam asks how it’s going, and Dwight responds that Jim’s gone from “completely hopeless to simply miserable.” Jim is proud to show Pam his new spin serve, but Dwight, playing on his cell phone, slams the ball back without even looking up. That’s kind of hot. You know, it really isn’t fun to play ping pong with someone who’s either a lot better or a lot worse than you, because there’s no satisfaction in short rallies. My ultimate goal in life is to marry a man who is exactly as good at ping pong as I am, so we can get a ping pong table instead of a dining table and just play all the time. He’ll win 50% of the time, I’ll win 50% of the time, and it’ll just be bliss. Jim tells Pam he’s ready for the rematch with Darryl, and Dwight says, “Wait a minute, Darryl is the client? Oh, no, no. He works here, dumbass.” Heh! I love when Dwight is so close to figuring something out, but then veers off in the wrong direction at the last second.

In the deposition, Michael asks Jan how she could do that to him. She can’t give a good answer, but tells him, “I am not the enemy. Dunder Mifflin is the enemy.” He replies that Dunder Mifflin has always treated him with the “utmost respect, with loyalty. They were going to give me your job, and I should have taken it.” This is Jan’s cue to pull out the final humiliation of the day. Oh man, you guys, this episode is so bleak. Jan has her lawyer read part of David Wallace’s deposition about whether Michael was a contender for Jan’s job. When asked if Michael was his first choice, David said, “Michael Scott is a fine employee who’s been with the company many years.” The counsel asked if Michael was in the top five, and he said, “What do you want me to say. C’mon, he’s a nice guy.” Eventually, David Wallace said that no, Michael wasn’t seriously considered for Jan’s job. David Wallace is such a classy guy; I sort of have a crush on him (and I love how he totally has a man crush on Jim). He’s over in the corner, listening to the lawyer reread his testimony, and just looks broken hearted.

Jan’s lawyer goes for the money shot: “Wouldn’t you agree with Ms. Levinson that the company displays a pattern of disrespect towards it’s employees?” Michael: “Absolutely… not.” Yay!

In the warehouse, Jim and Darryl are having a rematch. Jim wins a rally, and Pam says to Kelly, “Ha, see that?” Kelly says, “Yeah, that floppy haired girl you date won a point.” And the score is 19-4, so Kelly sort of has a point herself. Darryl scores again, and Kelly gets up and starts singing that Avril Lavigne classic, Girlfriend: “Hey, hey, you, you, I don’t like your boyfriend! Cause, cause, cause, cause he sucks at ping pong!” That’s some good smack talk. Pam is not going to take it anymore, gets up and tells Kelly to pick up a paddle, they’re going to play. Kelly asks, “You think you can handle this?” Pam: “In my sleep.” Girl fight! They rally for serve, but can’t get past the “i” in “ping pong.” Oh no, girls are bad at sports! Jim and Darryl decide to go play on the table upstairs, and again, it’s like there’s some sound barrier surrounding the ping pong table.

Everyone’s filling out of the deposition room as David comes over to apologize to Michael. All the men at Dunder Mifflin are wearing similar red patterned ties—it’s sort of distracting me. David says that they never meant for Michael to get caught in the middle of this (I’m guessing David didn’t ask Ryan to do the “as a friend, can you…” thing), and he’s very sorry. Such a classy guy! David Wallace is so the George Clooney of Dunder Mifflin corporate. They shake hands, and Michael tells him that he thinks David is a nice guy too. Aw, man love!

Michael talking heads, “What did I do it? I don’t know. Jan said it was because of the photo that she revealed the diary. But she already brought the diary with her to New York, so… You expect to get screwed by your company, but you never expect to get screwed by your girlfriend.” I can’t believe there’s not a “That’s what she said” joke right there. Also, kudos to Michael Scott for displaying a degree of logical thinking no one (especially Jan) previously thought he was capable of.

Jan and Michael drive home. That must have been an awkward two hours back to Scranton. She suggests getting Chinese for dinner (mmm, now I want orange chicken), but Michael says that they should save some money and get something cheap. Chinese was Jan’s cheap suggestion, but Michael was thinking more like fast food. She says that’s fine. This episode is such a downer.

Luckily, the end tag has a little taste of the glory that is Mose. Him and Dwight are in the warehouse after hours, wearing protective goggles and playing an intense game of ping pong. They don’t have a table at home? Preferably one that Dwight whittled out of a tree? Oh, fine.

Read More......

I've assessed the situation, and I'm leaving

In the fourth episode of Mad Men, "New Amsterdam," Pete can't decide who he hates more, his wife or his boss, and Betty goes over to Helen's house and it's like an old school horror movie.

Previously: Pete tried, unsuccessfully to suck up to Don; Helen Bishop, divorced mother of two, moved in down the street from Don and Betty; Don kissed Rachel Menken on the roof of her department store; and Pete slept with Peggy two days before his wedding but afterwards they agreed not to discuss it.

Sterling Cooper offices: the Mad Boys are gathered in Pete’s office listening to a comedy record. I can’t tell who is it, but I know it’s not Lenny Bruce because Paul says, “He’s no Lenny Bruce.” They’re interrupted by Pete’s wife, Trudie, who dropped by to steal her husband away for a lunch date. Pete’s a little reluctant to leave work, but caves when she forces him to admit he doesn’t have anything going on today. As Pete gets his coat, Don and Peggy walk by. Pete introduces his boss to his wife, and shares an awkward look with Peggy. Betty sizes up the competition and decides she could totally take this society brat; Peggy’s from Brooklyn, got it? Don congratulates Trudie on being “lucky” to marry Pete, and she says, “I know! Most of my friends can’t find a good man!” Well, if “good man” means “total psychopath,” then maybe your friends are the lucky ones. After a few moments Peggy gives a little wave to Trudie and goes on her way without being formally introduced (because Pete has no manners in addition to being a cheater). Don tells Trudie that Pete is “essential to the process around her; I think we’re almost as happy to have him as you are.” Don takes his leave, and Trudie remarks on how nice he is, and “not at all like I imagined.”

Old New York-y jazz plays as we join Trudie and Pete in an empty apartment. She is raving about the space and decent price, but Pete tells her that although he wants to give her everything, with his salary they can’t afford it. Trudie tells him, “We’re not in this alone. We’re a young couple who needs help…” In just two scenes you can tell that Trudie’s one of those upper class Manhattan girls who’s never, ever wanted anything that wasn’t immediately given to her by her parents. Hate her!

Back at the office, Don runs into Paul (if this is the same day then he’s changed out of the signature Grandpa cardigan he was wearing earlier and into a suit) walking with Rachel Menken in the hallway. She’s wearing an all-black suit skirt that would be appropriate for a state funeral, but she’s also rocking a rather large turban on her head. Rachel tells Don that Paul is perfect for her account, and Paul senses the sex-gone-bad vibe and excuses himself. All of their previous snappy charm is gone as he awkwardly asks how she is and she asks, “What are you doing?” He tells her, “I don’t want it to be like this,” and she says, “Yes, well, we both know how we’d like it to be.” He asks if they can have lunch sometime, because he’s sure that if he acts really sincere he’ll eventually convince her to become his mistress. But Rachel’s too smart, and walks away.

At the Draper’s, Betty reads a bedtime story to her kids, which ends with a grand wedding. Sally is so freaking cute. Bobby is ok. I saw on imdb that 3 different actors are credited for Robert Draper, and I don’t think any of them are twins. Kind of odd, right? Also, Betty makes her kids go to bed before it’s dark outside, which is just mean. She leaves them alone to go walk the new Golden Retriever dog, which takes her right past Helen Bishop’s house. On the porch is a man, pounding the door and yelling for her to open up. He sees Betty and asks to use her phone, explaining, “I’m her husband. I’m supposed to see my kids and I know she’s in there.” Betty shows an unprecedented awareness of basic safety when she tells him no, she doesn’t let strange men into her home. Helen’s evil ex is dumbfounded, and Betty leaves quickly, probably glad to have a dog with her.

Later that night, the doorbell rings and Betty answers, wearing this great floaty nightie and robe. She looks great, but won’t it get totally twisted around her body when she sleeps? Sometimes I spend a lot of time thinking about how uncomfortable old-fashioned sleepwear must have been. Anyway, at the door is Helen Bishop, who apologizes and says, “I’m so embarrassed.” Helen pretends she doesn’t know what Helen’s talking about, because in her world these things are ignored, not discussed. Helen calls her on it, and admits that she was listening at the window. She says that she did let her ex-husband in eventually, and that “he’s not a bad man.” There’s a pause as Helen looks at the floor, and Betty finally asks her to come in and have some coffee.

The two women are smoking on the couch as Helen observes it’s ironic that her husband wants to see the kids all the time now, while when they were married he was always at work. She adds, “but if he does die then I’m set!” Now that’s classy. Although I will admit that yesterday I was thinking about whether, if my parents died, I’d be rich from the life insurance and selling the house and everything, or poor from having no clue about practical finances. But, you know, I felt bad afterwards. Betty asks what happened, and Helen explains: her husband worked in Manhattan, and “he had a lot of friends in the city… turned out none of them were men.” It’s hard to tell whether this is hitting as close to home as it should for Betty. Betty clarifies that she meant, “tonight, what happened?” Helen doesn’t answer, but observes that her husband is madder than she is, probably because her lawyer “hammered the hell out of him.” Betty is, as always, uncomfortable talking about such indelicate things, and tells Helen she’s always loved her house. There’s the sound of a door opening in the background, and Don enters. He says hello to both women, and looks a little peeved at the girltalk going on in his living room. After he leaves, Betty explains, “he has to go upstairs and have complete quiet for a while. He works so hard.” Or maybe he just really dislikes talking to you, Betty.

Elsewhere, Pete is in a living room where all the furniture is covered with white sheets. It’s his parents house—do they live in an abandoned building or do they just want to be able to make ghost costumes at a moment’s notice? Pete stares into his drink as his dad makes small talk and displays a disturbing amount of leg below his plaid short-shorts. I swear, I cannot stop staring at Pete’s dad’s thighs! But I should be respectful, since I read that this actor died sometime recently in an avalanche (seriously). Pete’s mom enters and says she hopes that Pete and Trudie will be visiting them at their summer home, but Pete says he’s not sure if he’ll be able to take the time off work. Mr. Campbell starts rambling that he still doesn’t understand what Pete does, how he can call going to restaurants and clubs working: “taking people out to dinner; wining and whoring. No job for a white man.” Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s appropriate for any man to be showing that much thigh. Also, will there ever be a TV character who is NOT revealed to have had a bad dad that is the source of all his issues and flaws? Pete tries to convince his dad that there’s more to advertising than that, but Papa Campbell doesn’t buy it. Pete says, sounding a little self-satisfied, that he can’t explain how business works to his dad, the subtext being, I assume, that his dad did nothing but live off his family’s old money.

Pete changes the subject to the apartment Trudie showed him earlier, and it’s on 83rd and Park if you want to go visit. Pete says that it’s kind of expensive, and “we’re going to need help with the down payment.” His tone basically states that he fully expects a handout from his parents, and that he’s perfectly right to ask. Papa Short Shorts flat out refuses, saying it’s not a good idea. Pete says, “You thought it was a good idea when Bud hit that girl on her bike in Montauk last summer. What did that cost?” Heh! For some reason that totally reminds me of Ted Kennedy driving his car off a bridge, which I also find funnier than I probably should. If it turns out that Pete has a sister who the family accidentally lobotomized, I will never stop laughing. Mama Campbell looks upset and walks off, and Mr. Thigh says, “I presume it’s your profession that is responsible for this lapse in your manners.” Pete says that he’ll pay the money back, and when that doesn’t help he asks, “why is it so hard for you people to give me anything?” Legs Campbell says, “We gave you everything. We gave you your name. And what have you done with it?” Eh, Campbell’s not such a great name, unless their family is heir to the Campbell Soup fortune. One thing I really appreciate about Gossip Girl is how realistic the rich people last names are: Archibald, Waldorf, Van der Woodsen? Those are primo rich people last names.

Later that night, Pete is undressing in his very small bedroom. Trudie enters (wearing frilly bloomers!), and asks about his visit to his parents. He lies that he didn’t bring up the expensive apartment because his dad’s been “having some health problems.” Trudie asks what’s wrong, and Pete replies that “nobody knows,” while his look says, “Well, I’m about to murder him in his sleep, so he’s probably stressed out about what a psychopath he raised.”

The next day, Pete brings a client, Walter, into a meeting with Don and Salvatore. He’s the owner of a steel company, and Don’s pitch is that the America’s great cities are “brought to you by Bethlehem Steel.” Walter thinks the style of the ads are too plain. Aw, no love for Salvatore? He says that “these ads feel like ads for cities. You’re making our company look like a middleman for another product.” Don gets a little pissy about the dismissal of his ideas, but Pete is on Walter’s side. “Walter, if this does not meet your expectations, I’m sure Don can find something that does.” He asks Walter to stay in town another night, maybe see a Broadway show like Bye Bye Birdie (confession: senior year of high school I was telephone girl #3 in my school’s production of Bye Bye Birdie, and I was totally awesome). Walter says, “I don’t like birds,” but agrees to come back.

Don suggests Salvatore walk Walter out (these guys are really into walking people out; are the Sterling Cooper offices especially maze-like?) so he can lay the smackdown on Pete. Pete says he could sense that Walter was a “second time guy,” but Don thinks that Walter was sentences away from approving the ads. I have to disagree, Don. Don blames Pete for not “preparing” Walter to like the idea, and Pete apologizes for not “lowering his expectations enough.” Don tells Pete to do his client-schmoozing thing and “leave the ideas to me,” and Pete very prissily states, “I have ideas.” Yeah, but Sterling Cooper’s clients probably don’t need Pete’s ideas on how to become as close as physically possible to becoming a weasel. Unless, of course, someone’s selling weasel food. Don says, “I’m sure you do. Sterling Cooper has more failed artists and intellectuals than the Third Reich.” Oh yeah, Don just played the Nazi card! Pete tells him his ideas are good, and “direct marketing! I thought of that! Turned out it already existed, but I arrived at it independently.” Uh, that might not be the best example to plead your case. “And then I come to this place and you tell me that I’m good with people, which is strange, because I never heard that before.” Even Pete knows he’s a dick.

At the Draper’s, Don is lying on the couch looking at the ad designs that Walter dismissed, and Betty is making dinner when the phone rings. It’s Helen Bishop, and she wants to go help stuff envelopes for Kennedy tonight but her sitter backed out. Helen is preparing powdered milk, for some reason… gross. Betty is hesitant, but finally agrees to come over and that, “I guess Don can watch the kids.” She seems a little scared that Don’s going to run off and buy another dog as soon as she turns her back, and I don’t blame her.

Betty arrives at Helen’s, and the latter apologizes for the mess and the former says, “It’s charming.” Betty’s not such a good liar. I expect her to whip out a sketch pad so when she meets up with Francine to gossip they have more to criticize. Creepy Glen Munster is at the piano, playing poorly. I read that the actor playing Glen is actually the son of one of the main producers, which is good for him since unless they do a Munsters: The Next Generation movie, I don’t see him working much after this show. Helen tells Glen to be good for Betty, and “no ironing.” Apparently Glen loves to iron. Creepy! And now we know for certain that Glen is a freakshow, because he’s not conforming to gender norms.

As Helen gets ready to leave, Betty tells her she looks nice, and “there must be a lot of nice men there.” Helen says that it’s mostly women, because “have you seen the candidate?” Betty’s like, “Have you seen my husband? Kennedy and his lock-jaw can’t compete with Don.” Well, she actually says that while JFK is handsome, “we’re not sure who we’re voting for.” In other words, Don hasn’t told her who she’s voting for yet. Helen takes off, and Glen plots all the different ways he’s going to distract Betty so he can suck her blood.

Pete is having dinner with Trudie and her parents at a fancy restaurant. Trudie’s dad is going on about what a sweet job Pete must have, and Pete says the same thing he said to his dad earlier, that there’s “slightly more to it than that.” But since Trudie’s dad is wearing full length pants, Pete says it with a smile. Trudie brings up the apartment, and Pete tries to get her to drop it by saying that it’s still out of their price range. Trudie isn’t giving up and starts giving the specs on the place (ooh, it has a terrace!) to her parents. When she tells them the price her father frowns and says, “I don’t know... I’ll have to look into it.” Trudie looks shocked at him not immediately writing a check for $30,000, but then her dad starts laughing and Trudie thanks him for continuing to cater to her every whim. Pete’s less pleased, and says, “Tom, it’s very generous for you to even consider it, but I think we’d rather wait.” Trudie’s like, “How about you wait and I live there alone until you’re ready?” Trudie’s dad tells him there’s no point in waiting, and that’ll he’ll be “a rich bastard” on his own someday. He explains that it’s an “investment for me, in you. Oh, and my jellybean, too, of course.” Jellybean? Vomit. Trudie gives Pete the most insufferable look (guys, I hate her so much I want to push her off a terrace), and Pete finally agrees. Trudie’s thrilled to have fully squashed her husband’s pride in order to get a bomb apartment.

Later, in the back seat of a cab (or a chauffeured car or something), Trudie’s like, “We should get married,” and Pete’s turns off his Walkman playing the new George Michael and is all, “No, I can’t take the time off work,” and she says, “You hate that job anyway. Why don’t you just quit?” and he says, “Because I…want…to…fit…in.” Ok, well actually Trudie just gloats about the apartment some more, then realizes Pete’s not exactly thrilled to be taking handouts from his wife’s parents. His own parents, though, that’s cool. He tells her that it’s a lot of money, and “I’m not sure what it means.” Is he going to have to go to work for Trudie’s dad as a hitman, like Jin on Lost? Because I think, subconsciously, the reason I can’t stop connecting American Psycho to this show is because there’s way less blood than I think there should be. There’s emotional violence aplenty, but where are the chainsaws? Pete explains that if he had gotten money from his parents it would be different, since, “it’s my money, I’ll get it eventually.” Trudie counters that this is her money, and it makes her father feel good to help. Pete looks at her for the first time this entire scene to ask, “What about me?” She flips it back: “What about meeee?” I do have to concede that their bedroom was pretty tiny and shabby-looking. Pete looks away from her again and says bitterly, “You always get what you want, don’t you?” Yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!

Back at Helen’s Divorcee Den, Betty and Glen are watching tv, sitting as far away from each other as possible on the couch. She excuses herself to use the bathroom, which means high level snooping. Anyone who says they’ve never been tempted to rifle through someone else’s medicine cabinet is a liar. Betty hits the jackpot when she finds Helen’s birth control pills, but she drops it quickly and closes the drawer. No, Betty, you have to see how many are left so you can calculate her cycle and then sic a bear on her! Betty sits down on the toilet but is quickly interrupted by Glen the Creeper. She tells him twice to get out, but he just stands there watching her pee. Finally she has to get up and waddle to the door, closing it as she says, “What is wrong with you? This room is occupied!” Glen’s like, “Hey, I’m a child of divorce. Give me a break.”

Glen’s back on the couch when Betty comes out of the bathroom. She turns off the TV and says, “What do you have to say for yourself?” He says nothing—had he had any lines so far this episode? Betty grabs his arm and tells him, “You know better than to walk in on someone like that. That room is private.” She eventually convinces him to apologize (Glen speaks!), and after she forgives him Glen launches towards her neck, fangs bared. No, wait, false alarm, Glen just goes and hugs her, but in a creepy, “How close can I get my head to your boob?” way. He tells her she’s pretty, and asks how old she is. Betty asks, “Well, I’m the same age as your mother. How old is your mother?” Real sneaky, Betty. After learning that Helen is 32, Betty practically pumps her fist in the air and then does a victory lap around the room, because she’s only 28.

Glen keeps hitting on Betty, and says, “Your hair is so beautiful. You look like a princess.” Betty demurs, and Glen asks, “Can I have some?” He’s totally staring at her boobs when it says it, and I swear the first time I watched this episode I thought he wanted her to breastfeed him. It’s only slightly less creepy, though, that what he really wants is a lock of her hair. She says no at first, but it doesn’t take too much more convincing from Glen for her to find a pair of scissors and cut a little piece from the back of her neck. Ew, Betty, no! I know she feels bad for creepy Glen, with his slutty mother and absentee dad, but she is totally encouraging his lack of boundary issues! Plus, you know that bit of hair is going to become the centerpiece of Glen’s Betty shrine, and his fixation on her will be all over the news when Glen finally explodes the neighborhood cat or something. But I should get off my high horse because one time, in high school, this girl in my drama class went around and convinced everyone to let her cut off a little bit of their hair, and she collected it all in an empty butter container. I refused at first, but everyone else gave her a few strands, so I caved. And then afterwards I looked at the clump of various people’s hair that she had collected and mixed together, and it looked like the hairball you pull out of the shower drain, and I felt pretty gross about myself.

At a bar in Manhattan, Pete brings two fancy ladies (escorts?) over to hang out with him, Walter, and Draco Malfoy. Walter is happy to stare at the blonde’s chest for the whole night, but Pete wants to share his ideas about the steel campaign. His slogan is “Bethlehem Steel: the backbone of America.” Walter thinks that Pete is making a pitch for Don, and tells Pete he doesn’t want to discuss business when there are young girls to molest and buy drinks for.

Betty is sitting on the couch reading about Italy (remember when she said she spent the summer there after graduating from college?) when Helen comes home. Betty doesn’t mention the bathroom trespass or the hair cutting, and accepts a pamphlet on Kennedy, who looks kind of deformed in the picture on the front.

When she goes home, Don is asleep with a notepad resting on his stomach. Betty takes it look at the rough drawing of an ad that reads “New York: Oh Little Town of Bethlehem.” The image fades out, and is replaced by Salvatore’s professional artwork in the office the next day. Walter remains unimpressed (and it is basically the exact same thing with slightly different words), and Don tries to convince him that it gets across the idea that “from the acorn that is Bethlehem Steel comes American’s great cities.” What a poet, Don is. Walter thinks that this pitch is just a front for the “backbone of American” slogan, and says, “Campbell pitched it to me last night, and I like it.” Don and Salvatore exchange looks that read, “Oh, we are going to have a cut a bitch.” Walter says he not only likes the idea, but also likes that Don was “so enthusiastic about the idea you couldn’t wait to tell me.” I think it’s telling that despite all the evidence, Walter still thinks it’s Don’s idea because it’s so out of line for a junior exec (I think Pete is an account manager or something?) to pitch an idea of his own. As Walter says this, Pete looks down and tries not to gloat too hard.

The meeting ends and Walter exits, leaving Pete to face his boss. Don tells him “nice work,” and to enjoy his good idea. Pete doesn’t know when to turn tail and run, and tells Don, “I think I did something good and you got the compliment for it.” Don looks hard as steel as he tells Pete, “I need you to go get a cardboard box… and go put your things in it.” Don walks out, and Salvatore gets his bitch on: “You picked the wrong time to buy an apartment.”

Pete walks through the office looking ready to either puke or start throwing grenades. The Mad Boys are in his office again listening to the comedy record; he screams at them to get out, then throws the Bob Newhart record out the door after them. In Slattery’s office, Don storms in and says, “Remember Pete Campbell’s last day? It’s today.” Don recaps the last 20 minutes and Slattery agrees he’s a “little shit.” I agree, too. Back in Pete’s office, the drinking portion of his pity party has begun. And the crying!

Betty’s on the therapist’s couch again, and is discussing Helen and her single mother life: her little job, her frozen food, her deranged son. Betty says, “She tries to put on a brave face. Honestly, I think she’s jealous of me; I’ve seen it before, I was in a sorority.” Can I just tell you all to start watching Greek? I know, it’s a stupid little show on ABC Family, but it’s also sort of totally awesome. There’s a marathon of the second season on all day tomorrow (Monday the 23rd), plus you can get the pilot and the first season finale for free on iTunes, and the second season premieres tomorrow night. Back to Betty, she’s all “I'm sorry that people are so jealous of me... but I can't help it that I'm so popular.” She also thinks that Glen is the one who needs help, and “the person taking care of him isn’t giving him what he needs.” A stake to the heart?

At Sterling Cooper, Slattery and Don prepare to go into Cooper’s office by taking off their shoes. Apparently this is due to Cooper having a big Asian thing, as evidenced by the art all over his office. Slattery notices a picture of a little boy in a sailor suit sitting on an older man’s lap; apparently it’s an old photo of Slattery and Cooper. Are they related? Maybe Slattery is Cooper’s nephew? Anyway, Slattery tells Cooper that Pete Campbell is fired and “it can’t be avoided.” Cooper disagrees, and starts in on a long-winded analogy comparing New York to a tightly wound watch. He pauses and asks what Don knows about Pete’s family. He says, “Nothing, except that they put out a mediocre product.” Don probably hates Campbell soup because he didn’t get enough love as a child. Cooper explains that Pete’s mother is a Dykeman, the family that owned a good part of Manhattan. When I saw this part and remembered the title I realized, Pete’s family are Knickerbockers! Cooper continues that the Dykeman’s lost most of their money in the Great Depression, but he still doesn’t want “Dorothy Dykeman Campbell standing at the dock at Fisher’s Island this summer talking about how poorly Sterling Cooper treated her son.” If these people met her son, they might not be so easily influenced. Bottom line is that Pete provides access to all these high-society people and places, so it’s a “marquee issue.” Don pouts that it seems like Pete is worth more to the company than he is, so Cooper and Slattery start rubbing his back and murmuring soothing compliments. Don acquiesces to Cooper’s wishes, and Cooper stands up and says, “there you go! I’m glad we’re all better now,” like he just gave Don a shot but since he was a good boy he also gets a lollipop. There’s nothing like being condescended to by a man without shoes.

Pete’s lying on his couch, his things in a box at his feet. I’m a little disappointed he’s not in the fetal position on the floor under his desk, to be honest. Don and Slattery storm in, and Slattery gets with the speechgiving: “What you did was totally unacceptable, and I want you to be very clear about this. You were fired, I wanted you out, Cooper wanted you out, and you would be if it weren’t for [Don].” Oh, Slattery, well played. “He thought you deserved another chance. That’s right, he fought for you.” Don looks a little uncomfortable at this, and Pete is practically licking Don’s shoes in gratitude. Slattery finishes, “You are here because of Don Draper’s largesse. Now, I know that your generation went to college instead of serving so I’ll illuminate you: this man is your commanding officer. You live, and die, in his shadow. Understood?” Interesting to compare this to Pete telling Don in the first episode that he’s follow him into battle blindfolded, and Don knowing it was bullshit and blowing him off. Pete looks about ready to start saluting and tells Don, “I won’t let you down.” Slattery, who’s halfway out the door, stops and says, “Jesus, Campbell, don’t ever say that!” The Mad Men leave, and Pete sinks back onto the couch looking like a little boy in someone else’s suit.

Don and Slattery are boozing it up in Don’s office, as they do. Slattery remarks that being able to drink on the job probably “attracts more people to advertising than any salary.” Don says, “that’s why I got in.” Slattery notices, though, that Don doesn’t enjoy drinking. He tells him, “My generation, we drank because it’s good, because it feels better than unbuttoning your color, because we deserve it. You drink because it’s what men do.” Don brings up shaky hands due to alcoholism, and Slattery says, “no kidding. Your kind with your gloomy thoughts and your worries, you’re all busy licking some imaginary wound.” Don tells him that they’re not all imaginary, and Slattery downs the rest of his drink and says, “boo hoo.” Don tells him, “Maybe I’m not as comfortable with being powerless as you are.” Slattery’s like, what the hell does that mean? He tells Don, “You shouldn’t compete with Pete Campbell… Yeah, you are. Not on a personal level, but for the world.” Don looks thoughtful, and Slattery says, “I don’t know, maybe every generation thinks the next one is the end of it all. I bet there are people in the Bible, walking around complaining about ‘kids today.’” Don adds, “Kids today, they have no one to look up to. Because they’re looking up to us.” I think Don and Slattery’s point would be much more effectively conveyed by a rousing encore of the “What’s the Matter with Kids Today?” from Bye Bye Birdie.

Trudie is back in the apartment, discussing with the realtor things to do with the back room. Pete is walking around the background, looking not unhappy with their future home. Soon a neighbor enters, a stereotypically Old New York society lady wearing multiple strands of pearls, and behind her are Trudie’s parents. Everyone introduces him or herself, and Old NY lady asks Pete, “You mother-in-law was telling me that your great, great grandfather was a farmer with Isaac Roosevelt, is that right?” Don’t ask me who Isaac Roosevelt is, and why someone would be impressed with his farming, and why this is a the first thing you would want to ask a person you just met. Pete confirms it, and the women get all in a tizzy about Pete’s ancestor being buried at some church and a “Dykeman living in the building.” Trudie wants Pete to tell the story about his “great, great-aunt getting in a fight with the British soldier and the Hussein,” but Pete tells her to tell it for him. Oh, to be rich enough to be ambivalent about being part of an important family. Boo hoo. Pete walks to the opposite side of the room, and Rosemary Clooney (I think) starts singing as he looks with resentment at his wife holding court. He then looks out the window at his amazing view of Manhattan, all black and silver at night. And then he jumps out the window!

Just kidding.

Read More......