in which i eat the tardis

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Got a fun package in the mail today. I guess this is what happens when you introduce your friends — especially ones who enjoy giving gifts and baking things — to Doctor Who.

My friend Stephanie has been texting me for a little over a month now as she watches the show. I’ll get text messages in the middle of the night that say things like, ”My brain just broke. I can’t brain today . . . I have the dumb,” “Oh Frick. Oh balls. Oh fup!”, and “This show is breaking my soul.” I also get nifty presents in the mail, like this TARDIS cookie jar I got for Christmas, and today, these cookies I got to fill it:

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“Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.”

Star Trek: The Next Generation, Seasons Five-Seven
c. 1991-1994

I can’t remember if I’ve told you this story before; bear with me if I have. You might recall that I am a sometime employee of Barnes & Noble. I work in the cafe, which is not Starbucks, no matter how many times you try to shove your Starbucks gift-card in my face, and I’m truly sorry about that, I really am. Customer service is awful to work in because of the emotional beatings you regularly take, but the truth is that the vast majority of customers I deal with fall pleasantly in between the extremes of Regular-Customer-Who-Confuses-Service-Employees-With-Friends, and Completely-Entitled-Douchenozzles (the crazies are the rarity, they’re just so crazy you think there are ten of them). There are actually some pretty nice people that frequent my place of employment, it’s just hard to remember that sometimes.

A particularly pleasant and memorable encounter occurred a couple of months ago now — right smack-dab in the middle of my race to the finish of The Next Generation,  a new customer started coming in. He (or she, I’ll be honest, I’m not sure of the correct pronoun to use here . . . I think he is a cross-dresser, so it’s still ‘he,’ yes?) came up to the counter very quietly with a friend and politely waited for me to finish whatever I was doing. He would have stood out enough even if he hadn’t said what he said next — long hot pink hair is pretty attention getting — but when I asked him what he wanted he said, “The Jean-Luc Picard Special,” and didn’t elaborate. His face was totally deadpan. I repeated it back to him, absolutely dumbfounded. He smiled kind of impishly and said, “Have you seen Star Trek?” “Of course I’ve seen Star Trek!” I said, and then just kind of gaped at him open-mouthed, desperately attempting to hang onto my nerd-cred. I guess he could see my wheels turning or something, because he kept prodding me: “Come on, you can do it . . .” And then it hit me, and once I knew, I felt like an idiot. You can’t watch TNG for any length of time without knowing that Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise always asks for “Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.” Anyway, after the embarrassment subsided, I felt a wonderful sense of accomplishment. That was the moment. I was in, bitches. In the know.

It’s hard to sum up just exactly what happened in seasons five, six, and seven of TNG, largely because the show wasn’t serialized, and thus there isn’t really a beginning, middle or end point to the “story” of the show, but also because it’s been awhile in between viewing and writing. The details are mostly lost, and what’s stuck with me is the general stuff, and, well, the memorable stuff. My review of seasons one through four is much more detailed in a way that I’m just not capable of at the moment, but there is no question in my mind that seasons five and six in particular (and great stretches of seven) represent TNG at its most fully mature and focused, and thus its most successful. I admit that after watching the first three seasons, I was (severely) skeptical that TNG could ever inspire levels of weeping-induced greatness in my television obsessed bosom. It was good, not great, as far as I was concerned. “The Best of Both Worlds” is landmark television, but it in no way reflected the show as a whole, which still had a tendency towards mediocrity and every now and then, produced a stinker. Later TNG, however, is simply solid, quality television at the top of its game. Even the worst season five and six episodes are quality television in a way that it was impossible for me to imagine as I watched seasons one and two, and the best of the bunch are phenomenal, classic episodes of television. These last three seasons, more than anything else this show has produced, indicates to me why The Next Generation has been so revered, and how its legacy has helped to sustain almost twenty plus years of the franchise.

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“You’re my third least favorite child.”

Arrested Development, The Complete Series
c. 2003-2006

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When everyone you know is telling you the same thing about a TV show — namely that it’s the BEST SHOW EVER — that’s a lot of pressure to live up to. My roommate Alison still hasn’t read Harry Potter, because the last time I made her try, she got so worried that she wouldn’t like it (and hurt my feelings) that she physically couldn’t finish the first book. And I know a lot of people who insist on disliking things solely because so many other people have told them how OMG GOOD it is. I find this behavior idiotic — you’re missing out on quality entertainment purely for spite, or worse, because you think you’re better than the rest of us. (Here’s a helpful tip: You’re not.)  Luckily, I don’t usually succumb to any of these kinds of pressure. I saw all three seasons of Arrested Development on sale at Amazon for $30 and I snatched those suckers right up.

Arrested Development is the story of the weird and wealthy Bluth family who live on or around Balboa Island in Orange County, CA. The details beyond that are a bit harder to master, which is part of the fun. (It’s also part of the reason the show was canceled after only three seasons — and frankly they’re lucky they got even that — but I’ll get back to the cancellation thing later.) Michael Bluth (Jason Bateman) inherits CEO duties of the Bluth Company after his father George (Jeffrey Tambor) is sent to prison, accused of committing a bunch of white collar crimes (up to and including building illegal houses in Iraq for Saddam Hussein). But being CEO of the Bluth company doesn’t mean just managing finances, it also means keeping tabs on and reining in his family’s irresponsible and insane behavior so the company doesn’t fall into anymore trouble than it already is. His older brother, George Oscar “G.O.B.” (pronounced ‘Jobe’) Bluth, Jr. (the sublime Will Arnett), is a professional magician who is completely delusional but supremely confident in his talents. Twin sister Lindsay (Portia de Rossi) is married to a closeted and in denial homosexual named Tobias Fünke (David Cross), who used to be a therapist but now wishes to be an actor. They also have a daughter named Maeby (Alia Shawkat), who is much more competent than either of them put together, and who they neglect mercilessly. Bluth matriarch Lucille (Jessica Walter) is, to quote Wikipedia, “manipulative, materialistic, and hypercritical of every member of her family, as well as being a perpetual drunk.” Both George Sr. and Lucille cheat on each constantly, most famously with his secretary and his twin brother, Oscar (haplessly and brilliantly played also by Jeffrey Tambor), respectively. The Bluth family is rounded out by Michael’s son George Michael (Michael Cera), who is in love with his cousin Maeby, and Michael’s younger brother, Buster (Tony Hale), who has an unnaturally close relationship to his mother, who may or not be actually twin brother Oscar’s son, and who I love beyond reason. The whole thing is narrated tongue-in-cheek by TV and film legend Ron Howard.

Watching Arrested Development‘s pilot was an interesting experience. The minute my roommate Alison found out what I was doing her eyes got as big as saucer plates, like my cat’s do when he thinks he’s about to get fed, and she squealed at me, “CAN I WATCH IT WITH YOU?” From the very first scene, she was laughing hysterically at everything — and she has a very distinctive laugh. She kept looking over at me like, why aren’t you laughing, too? Isn’t it funny? And it’s true, I wasn’t laughing, but it wasn’t because I wasn’t enjoying myself. The thing about Arrested Development is that you only get to the laughing out loud when you’ve gotten to know the characters. The humor comes from knowing and loving these absolutely idiotic people, the things they do over and over, the things they never do, or should do. It’s context humor, and what you end up getting if you invest enough time (number of episodes will vary person to person, for me it was four) is the kind of laughter you get from your own friends or family, except better because you don’t actually have to deal with them or clean up after their messes. It probably also took me longer to get to know the characters because I was so used to seeing them in their post-Arrested Development roles. I saw Jason Bateman in Juno, Will Arnett in 30 Rock, Portia de Rossi in Better Off Ted, Tony Hale as Chuck‘s Emmit Milbarge, and Michael Cera in every movie ever made before I ever saw this show. I had such a hard time, especially with de Rossi and Hale, whose post-A.D. characters — cold fish Veronica and Buy More Nazi/Weasel Emmit — are so incredibly different than Lindsay and Buster that there was some definite cognitive dissonance going on. It took me forever to stop thinking of Lindsay as a bitch, because that’s what Ted‘s Veronica is. Lindsay, like the other Bluths, is simply self-deluded. Where Gob has convinced himself that he is a talented magician and puppeteer, Lindsay has convinced herself that she is a liberal humanitarian and activist. Buster, though . . . Buster is just magical.

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