My (12) Favorite Episodes of The Simpsons

            I crunched the numbers!  I had a pretty lazy Labor Day weekend and I had to fill it with some nerdy stuff to keep from eating more potato chips. The Simpsons has infected everyone during the marathon, so its fresh on my mind. I won’t tell the story of how my love for this show developed, after being annoyed by its success during Season 1.  I won’t write about how it’s the funniest show, animated or otherwise, that has ever been on television.  I won’t talk about cultural significance, including humor, speech, language, cadence, story structure, character development and doughnuts.  I’m just here to list my favorites.

            The list is to twelve.  I wanted to be cool and shave it down to ten but it’s my list, these are all awesome, and what the hell is wrong with the number 12?  They are listed only in order of release, not preference or anything like that.  It was hard enough narrowing it down this much.

           

            Flaming Moe’s - Season 3.  This is the one that really got me, as I remember.  This was no ordinary cartoon.  Aerosmith did the guest voices and half the episode was a Cheers spoof.

            Last Exit to Springfield - Season 4. This one is on all the critic’s list as one of the best, if not the best of all.  Dental plan.  Lisa needs braces.  Burns as the Grinch.  The Big Book of British Smiles. Homer runs the union.  You know it.

            Rosebud – Season 5.  The Ramones sing Mr. Burns a birthday song and tell him to “go to hell you ol’ bastard.”  Burns turns to Smithers and says “Have the Rolling Stones killed”.  It’s Citizen Kane with Bobo.

            Cape Feare – Season 5.  Kelsey Grammer may be forever remembered as Frasier but his finest work will be voicing Sideshow Bob.  The one with the rakes.  Need I say more?

            Treehouse of Horror V - Season 6. I had to pick at last one of the Halloween episodes.  This one contains ‘The Shinning’ (No beer and no TV make Homer something something).  The time travelling toaster, and the one where the teachers ate all the kids.  (You might even say we’ve eaten Uter, and he’s in our stomachs!)

             Lisa the Iconoclast – Season 7.  A Lisa episode?  Yeah, but this one had all the Jebediah Springfield stuff.  (One, where’s the fife?  Two, gimme the fife.)

            Homer’s Enemy – Season 8.  I think I love Season 8.  Homer meets Frank Grimes.  This is one of those meta/self-referential episodes that was so smart when I first watched it.  Grimes is the only person that doesn’t understand why all these great things happen for Homer.  It is a look at the character if he lived in the real world.  He would have been fired and/or killed years ago.  But he’s in an animated world, so Homer wins and Grimey loses.

            You Only Move Twice – Season 8.  The one with Albert Brooks as Hank Scorpio.  I thought of this as an idea once for a short story.   I did! Really!  What would a Bond movie look like from one of the faceless tech people in the evil mastermind’s secret lair?  Of course, Homer has no idea what the hell is happening.

           

            Brother From Another Series – Season 8. David Hyde Peirce as Sideshow Cecil.  It’s another Bob episode but it is so packed with great stuff I had to include it. (Oh, Cousin Merle!)  Bob isn’t even trying to kill Bart this time, but his equally evil brother tries and fails.

           

            Maximum Homerdrive – Season 10.   Homer and Bart drive the 18-wheeler. (Well, I just ate an entire lamb, but I reckon I can take you to school…) There is something about Marge’s plea to Homer to not drive the truck; it was an acknowledgment that he never really thinks things through…  (And to drink…Meatballs.)

            Guess Who’s Coming To Criticize Dinner? - Season 11. Homer the food critic.  (I once saw this man eat a bowl of change! / This gets my lowest score yet… seven thumbs up.)  Every restaurateur in town tries to kill Homer after he learns too be too critical.  His review of The Frying Dutchman: “Thar, She Blows!”

            Simple Simpson – Season 15.  Homer as the Spider-Man-like superhero, The Pieman.  (Since when do I listen to cake?)

I Am Officially Done With These Plot Devices

         

          I watch my share of fiction.  In the last few years, TV has reemerged with a crop of new treats to enjoy, from the breathtakingly original, to the standard bubble-gum fluff we secretly enjoy.  My wife and I watch together at the end of the day, and it is nice to follow ongoing stories that still have the ability to surprise us every once in a while.  But there are times when I see a show heading down a familiar path and I get the same feeling when I have to sit down and hear and old joke told to me.  Heeeere we go. Do I really have to endure this tired shit again?  I know writers rely on standard devices and talent varies from show to show, but there are times when I cringe at what is about to happen. These are a few of my TV nightmares.

            Parents. Simply put, the protagonist’s parents are used too much in modern action and drama.  It started somewhere in the late 90’s, when it wasn’t enough that the hero was a spy; he had to come from a family of spies.  Or a cop has a parent on the force, or my mom is a powerful lawyer, too, or I have been searching for my long lost dad and here he is and somehow he is integral to the plot. Maybe the writers are of that divorced generation and they were looking for a way to connect with mom and dad.  I don’t know.  I seem surrounded by TV pilots were the overarching story is one of parental disconnection, and it was fine about 15 years ago.  Is there a character on Lost that didn’t have a mom or dad problem?  Some cops just join the force because they want to, not because they are trying to solve their parents’ murder. 

            We live in a time when kids grow up and often move away; especially professionals that are at the heart of these shows.  It is still mysterious to me why so many parents are looped into the action.  You know why we didn’t see Walter White’s mother?  Because…who gives a shit?

            Are you old enough to have that job?  I get it.  Hollywood wants the young attractive people on the screen.  There are appropriate onscreen careers for someone who is 23. Sometimes I think they skew insanely too young for the role of CIA operative or FBI agent or ER doctor.  Maybe an FBI agent can be young, but perhaps it’s time to hear the stories of the people with a little dirt under their fingernails.  I’m not an old geezer here; I’m thinking someone who is 32 playing 29, instead of playing 25 and looks 19.

            Sacrificing love for safety.  Technically, this is rampant everywhere.  Spider-Man and Harry Potter did the same crap.  The hero’s life is so dangerous, and so fraught with uncertainty that he, in an act of nobility, breaks up with his true love to keep them safe from harm.  I realized that this is a classically romantic gesture and it goes back eons in the world of fiction, but this is 2014.  The truth is, when people are in love and they have other forces pulling at their lives, whether its careers or culture or insecurity, they try to have it all.  They stay together somehow.  The breakups occur when the love isn’t there anymore.  One person, desperately in love, just doesn’t quit the relationship because something might happen to the other person.  Maybe that is what makes it noble, but it does not say much for the other person, the relationship, or love as a whole.  Love makes you dumb and tends to help you make irrational decisions.  The other person has an entire life of their own. They would probably be more than a little pissed at the breakup and would not react well to hearing the excuse of “I’m keeping you safe from super-villains.”  If you truly love the person, you almost always find a way.  That is the messy, inconvenient, silliness of love.

            Rotten teens and kiddie drama.  If kids were as absolute shitty as they were on TV and in the movies than there is not an American citizen who would not offer themselves up for immediate sterilization.  I have never seen kids as sour, rotten and conniving as I have seen on TV.  Never.  I have teenagers and they are challenging, but they aren’t plotting and evil.  They don’t have established views on relationships and how the world works; those change every day.  They don’t make adult decisions or talk like adults or, for a lot of kids, care the least bit what the adults are up to. 

            If writers need a teen in the show, take a crack at making them somewhat realistic.  They have mood swings, sure. But it is not the sum-total of their personality.  You know what kids are usually doing when they aren’t in school?  Sleeping.  Doing insane amounts of homework.  They are friggin’ tired after a long day of either too many activities or avoiding going back home. It is not exciting.  The other half of their world is bullshitting with friends in their rooms or via text. 

            I understand there is a market for teen-based dramas.  I don’t watch that stuff, and it is not for me.  The irritation is when this need for adult themed-kid drama spills into my shows.  If I am watching a show with super-cops, spies, US marshals, mutant heroes, gangsters, lawyers, doctors, or meth-making chemistry teachers, and a scene pops up with two teens talking to each other, I tune out.  Your plots are inconsequential!  Your opinions are temporary and in flux and you don’t know shit about shit yet.

            Gratuitous head trauma.  If you watch dramas with any kind of action or violence, they inevitably use this plot device. The hero is whacked from behind and then the scene ends.  People are so easily knocked out with a rifle butt or a blunt object, and ‘come to’ in the next scene, groggy and unaware of where they are.  Human beings can be knocked out.  But they can also receive cracked skulls.  Some can even withstand the blow from the back of the head without losing consciousness.  Also, if the heroes on  Lost or the superhero shows really were knocked out as many times in real life as they were over the course of five seasons, they would certainly need to be hospitalized.  

            No one actually says these things.  This is my own beef.  I have never heard another human being refer to someone as their “lover” in my life.  I find it icky when there is a little boy at the center of a story and adults refer to him as “the child”.  “Once” is a word that is folded into a lot of dialogue lately, as in “you once told me I was meant to be someone special”.  Does anyone actually say “once” in that context?  Finally, what has to be my least favorite phrase that I’ve never heard outside of fiction is: “I want answers!”  Who the hell says ‘answers’? The only reason you don’t have ‘answers’ is that the writers feel it necessary to withhold certain information from your character!  If this was anything close to reality, you’d have the information already, dammit!

My Problem With Secret Identities

Hey Bruce.  What's with the mask?

            I am actually new to the comic book/superhero world.  I had the Spider-Man Underoos and some bed sheets with DC superheroes plastered all over them back in the 1970’s, but the only comics I ever bought were the aforementioned web-slinger and Mad magazine.  Most of the lesser-known characters and genres are new to me, which is fun, but I am also new to the world of the inherent tropes and concessions of this fantasy world.  I was mostly a sci-fi and action/adventure guy for most of my life.  Putting on the mask and tights was something I rarely ever entertained.  (Not literally. Well, you get it.)

            Most of these observations are probably well-worn paths of superhero discussion, but they do necessitate updates in this modern 3-blockbuster-films-a-summer world in which we live.  There are new TV shows, comic book stories and internet series about to compete for our attention, so I’m guessing we will have thousands of new opportunities to critique and compare, which is truly our national pastime.

            Simply put, I cannot accept secret identities and masked superheroes.  I realize this is part and parcel with the foundation of the American super hero, but it is something as an adult that still irks me.  I am perfectly willing to accept mutant powers, gamma radiation turning scientists into monsters, crawling on walls, teleporting, travelling through time and space, evil plots to destroy reality, magic, an endlessly helpful utility belt, laser vision, telekinesis, pyrokinesis, flying cars, flying people, stretchy people, stone people, steel people, invisible people and talking raccoons. But I cannot accept that the loved ones of superheroes are completely stymied when they are face to face with the masked man; and have no idea that behind the mask or cape or cowl lies someone they’ve known for eons.  You can keep your face out of the public eye with strangers, but there is no way you’re fooling the people in your life.

            Here’s how I came to this.  I have three children.  I was there the first seconds they were born.  I watched them grow and develop and get bigger and form speech patterns and all that stuff.  Because of this, I can spot them in a crowd.  I can see, even with my horrifically poor eyesight, from across a darkened parking lot, the silhouette of my daughter from 40 yards away.  I could see my son in a football uniform from the stands, even though I couldn’t make out the names and numbers.  I know his stance, his gait, the way he holds his head.  I know the hair length; I know how big their feet are.  This is the same for my wife, my mother, my brother and probably most of my friends.  These are subconscious details we map over the years and they are intrinsic to our humanity; there is an entire science dedicated to studying the human face and the aspects out brain attaches to even the most minute changes. Facial recognition and facial processing are as human as opposable thumbs. This is why CG human faces never really work out; there is just too much information we glean from the face and alterations are just too wonky for our brains to reconcile.

            In short, I’d know it was Bruce Wayne under the cowl.  So would you.  Even with makeup, in the shadow and a guttural voice, a friend of Bruce Wayne would know.  If you saw him as close as the criminals or Commissioner Gordon, you would know his stance, his shoe size, his jaw-line, his chin, his lip shape and whether or not he was disguising his voice, and you probably wouldn’t even realize why.  With his full head mask, Spider-Man has a better chance of getting away with it; but a tight suit does not help.  Plus, Peter Parker never disguised his voice to my knowledge.  We recognize thousands of different voices!  We don’t need the face to match!

            The TV show Arrow features the Green Arrow with a black mask, a hood and some little tech to disguise his voice.  The voice might fool someone, but standing in the same room, dressed in basically winter clothes would not fool his ex-girlfriend for a hot second.  She knows how he holds his head on his shoulders and his speech patterns, how he walks, stands, turns… and a host of nonverbal cues I can’t even think of.  Also, please don’t mention Superman.  I can believe bulletproof skin and super speed, but glasses have never fooled anyone, ever.  If that were true, I could take off my glasses right now, go find my daughter and she would not know who the hell I was!

            The Fantastic Four was the first big Marvel comic of the ‘60’s.  This happened after Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman all had their own secret identities and the problems that come with them.  But in the books, the FF were famous.  Everybody knew them.  That has its own challenges as well.  The comic went on without masks, because it wasn’t necessary.  The X-Men are also mostly out in the open.  You just don’t need the masks.  I understand you get human stories out of them, and they are part of a tradition, but I think superheroes should come out of the closet.  The secret identities never work out anyway, some asshole with a death ray will be ransoming off your girlfriend sooner or later.

My Anxiety Files – Remember Kids, Almost No One Gives A S#!t

Oh Grimey, you never learned...

            (I hope this comes off right...)

            I have paid attention in my life.  I have tried to learn and grow, think and explore.  My goal has been to find pieces of wisdom along the way.  If my children ever ask me what is the most important life lesson I’ve learned, I will answer with these words: Almost No One Gives A Shit.

            It may sound depressing or angry or negative, but I believe it is just the opposite.  It is liberating and, most importantly, it is the truth.  It may be a bummer to look out onto the world and believe that almost no one cares about your life and what you do with it.  But think for a second, do you really care about their lives?  Sure, you don’t want bad things to happen, unless you’re a monster. Our human brains can only handle so many crucial emotional connections. When we look at the world, we have to be a strict pee-wee football coach.  We gotta make some tough cuts.

            This is not a modern phenomenon; it how human beings are.  It is neither a good sign nor a bad sign.  It just is.  It also can help you.  If you have trouble regulating your emotions, or you are overwhelmed by life in one way or another, it is a form of freedom. So much of our lives is spent predicting what others think, and making decisions based on those predictions.  As you grow older you realize that you aren’t that important in the grand scheme of things; just to that tiny little circle you’ve created.  The judgments we thought others were thinking were not only untrue, they never existed in the first place.  That guy whose opinion you don’t really care about isn’t thinking about you.  He never was.  In fact, those people you are very close to you aren’t thinking about you all the time either.  There is no reason to feel embarrassed, ashamed or self-conscious about your decisions.  It is proof that judgments are nothing but fleeting thoughts.  Because truly… almost no one gives a shit.

            The more people acknowledge this, the happier we’d all be. It is the cure for paranoia. I can’t tell you how many homes I’ve approached in my job that look like low-rent compounds out in the countryside.  Threatening security signs, video surveillance, no trespassing. They are all devices to fuel a belief of self-importance and the big Other.  Maybe it’s exciting to think someone is “after you.”  The truth is, no one is watching you. No one. Nobody gives a shit.  The government is the same.  They have records of phone calls and correspondence, and I believe it is an invasion of privacy.  But I also know that the government is another name for a group of human beings who do a certain group of jobs. They work Monday through Friday and don’t exactly get paid well.  Most of all, they are humans, and therefore almost none of them gives a shit.

            They don’t care.  They are just as busy as you are to care.

            Almost is the key word.  Because a tiny few people actually do.  That is important.  The comfort that comes from knowing there are people that care about you is incredibly powerful.  For some people there are only one or two.  Maybe, if you are lucky, you get seven or eight.  They do give a shit about the big stuff in your life, and if you are doing your job as a loved one, you give shit about them.   But this circle is small, and I think it has been scientifically proven that it is supposed to be small.  These are the relationships that are nurtured and carry the weight in your life.  The opinions you perceive of that neighbor down the street, or the dude at the Safeway, or that snotty kid at the movie theater have of you have no bearing on anything at all, for three reasons.  One, they aren’t in your circle.  Two, whatever perceived thoughts you had of their opinions aren’t valid to them because you aren’t in their circles.  And three, there aren’t really any opinions to begin with because…well, you know.

            Don’t worry about it.  No one is really paying attention.

            We expect way too much out of our fellow man and ourselves.   I think that is where we get into trouble. This illusion feeds anxiety and depression and that’s just not okay.  The expectations form judgments, and judgments mask the overwhelming truth of not giving a shit, otherwise known as NTA, or Near Total Apathy.  Self-improvement is fine and healthy.  But the influx of the opinions of others have no place in that process.  That’s why it’s “self” improvement.  Maybe you want to go back to school or lose 30 pounds or get a 10% raise or have a kid.  That is for you, and perhaps your partner.  But the truth is, almost no one gives a shit.  Do what you need for yourself.  I’m not favoring some Rand-inspired world of individualistic pricks; in fact I lean pretty socialist.  It is not a cold, heartless and disconnected world I envision.  It is one where we aren’t concerned with being better or worse than our neighbors.  You can be yourself, and strive if you want to, but we aren’t burdened with the perceived thoughts of others.  It is not based on what we are doing. My utopia is based on the fact that we have acknowledged to each other that for the most part, almost none of us give a shit about what the rest of us do, so follow you dreams or your heart, or your pancreas if it suits you.

            I don’t care also means feel free to do so.

            I have to make one addendum.  This acknowledgement of the limits of how may people we care about does not reflect a view of the people outside of our circles.  This isn’t a political or social stance.  It is a mental one.  I don’t believe that I just care for me and mine so fuck everybody else.  I have generalized hope for humanity, based on…well that is another piece altogether. I hope for good things to happen to people; I want a peaceful world.  If my explanation of Near Total Apathy means anything it is that humanity is a much more capable species; we just have to accept that most of what holds us back is in our stupid heads.

I Love Time Travel - Part 20 - Summer Movie Edition

            No major spoilers. I promise. Don’t freak.

            Two big blockbuster movies came out this summer and they had as a central conceit my favorite plot device.  I saw both of them and I enjoyed both of them.  I give them an A minus.  They were very good but there was an element or two that threw me off.  I won’t include details here; suffice to say the details were not about time travel.  X-Men: Days of Future Past and Edge of Tomorrow were both fun films about traveling through time and resetting history.  What I found interesting was just how many similarities these two 

unrelated films had with each other. 

            X-Men features the most famous mutant Wolverine and his attempt to alter the course of history.  Through the power of a fellow mutant, his consciousness is sent back through time to the 1970’s to prevent an event from happening.  Wolverine’s body in the future remains asleep, in a state of unconsciousness while his mind and full set of memories operates his body back in the days of furry moustaches and bellbottoms.  I love consciousness time travel.  I think of it as the purest state of time travel methods.  It is cerebral and it takes the tech out of the equation.  You have no worries of running into yourself, however it forces to rely on your memory to behave and interact as you did years ago.  It is Desmond’s journey in the Lost episode “Flashes Before Your Eyes”, where he is convinced by someone to not alter the crappy future he is supposed to have.  It is the embodiment of the phrase “if I had it to do all over again”.

            The Tom Cruise sci-fi battle pic Edge of Tomorrow takes the same consciousness premise and speeds it up.  Cruise’s character is repeating the same sequence over and over again in the hopes of repelling an alien onslaught.  He dies at some point in the sequence, and actually needs to finally get it right.  In the process, he learns to become a soldier and a hero, and cease his life as a worthless schmuck.  It is Groundhog Day, but the mission is at the center and there is at least the perceived plan of the loops ending.  Becoming a better man was just incidental.

            There were no time machines in either movie.  In fact, all the travelling was created biologically; either through mutant powers or the influence of alien DNA.  When you take the tech out of the equation, it closes off a set of plot points but opens up a lot more.  I think it would be fascinating to try this more often in other films.  With a machine, it can be controlled and operated by human hands, without a machine the whims of time travel itself are in flux. 

            The most striking similarity is the style of time travel.  Both employ First Person time travel, where one person enters a new time without having actually been there before, either in life or through time travel (Marty McFly).  It got me to thinking, is First Person time travel actually time travel, or jumping to a parallel universe?  Single String time travel defines itself by assuring that if you are going to travel to 1940, you could conceivable find a picture of yourself from 1940 before you even go.  First Person contends that you couldn’t, because you haven’t gone yet.  But what if the sheer act of time travel is just a way to go to another universe, where you are born in 1972 yet can somehow interact with people in 1940?

            Does Wolverine enter into his life in the 70’s, or is it another universe, where he exists in the 70’s with all of the memories of his life right up until he travels back?  Is Tom Cruise altering the future every time or is he entering multiple universes where he dies in different but sometimes hilarious ways?

            Yeah, it hurts my head, too.

            Both of the heroes at the end are still the only ones who know what happened.  Their realities are ones of multiple timelines and all of the possibilities that could have happened, and actually did happen to the both of them.  It is good news for the people in their lives they were trying to protect, but it is kind of a bummer to the two heroes.  Time travel can be a lonely business.