5.05.2020

Star Trek: The Next Generation, Season Three


Faster than anticipated, we rejoin this rewatch of TNG, already in progress. What are its best to worst episodes? Beats me. Here, though, are my least-to-most favorite.


26.

An obsessed collector is determined to add Data 
to his private collection of unique items.

My least favorite but still has two worthy bits: (1) Data’s learning where his self-destruct-vs.-kill boundaries lie. (A Starfleet rite of passage). And (2) Data learning he can bluff Riker. (“Perhaps something occurred during transport, Commander.”)

David Rappaport (Time Bandits, The Wizard) was slated to play Kivas Fajo, but his tragic death left the episode without a guest lead. Saul Rubinek stepped in and more or less played the part as Rappaport might’ve played it (and it seems to me they costumed him in an impish or elfin way – don’t shoot the messenger please). I don’t know if that was the right way to go.



25.
 

The Q Continuum strips Q of his powers 
and dumps him aboard the Enterprise.

I don’t feel like trashing Q every time one of these episodes come around, it gets tiresome. The good news is I won’t have to, really, after this episode. Each of the Q appearances still to come – unless my math is off, we’ll see soon enough – are good. Apparently, this was a prompt by Gene to the writer’s room: ‘a godlike creature cut down to size.’ Sometimes Gene really got a little OCD about certain themes and motifs.

I often post that “We Didn’t Start the Series” promo from the UHF days of yore. (Here it is again, as a matter of fact.) This is the episode whence the “visitor from LA Law” reference. Another LA Law cross-over: that’s where Dr. Pulaski ended up after s2.



24.

A gifted but tortured telepath whom Deanna Troi once treated as a patient comes aboard to establish first contact with an unknown sentient space thing near an unstable star before the Romulans do.

Not as bad as I remembered, but this is a very emo reboot of the story already perfected in The Motion Picture. I know Gene was deteriorating during this time, but sometimes it’s like sheesh: again with this, the exact same thing? "You've got like literally five ideas, really?" Then again, it’s a retread of something I like, and Trek I like, to boot, so it could be worse. 

And really, it’s not as bad as I remembered. My memory had this one as one of the more irritating episodes of TNG, and while it stops just short of enjoyable, there’s some interesting stuff going on. The guest lead (Harry Groener) plays Tam Elbrun sensibly, as someone overwhelmed by a lifetime of telepathy, forever alone even though surrounded by an endless chorus of others’ thoughts and feelings. It's not, however, a particularly enjoyable performance, as his realization of the Mayor from Buffy s3 very much was. You’d never know it was the same guy, practically. Throw a giant space loneliness metaphor into it – who everyone insists on calling Tin Man over and over again, despite knowing its name is “Gomtuu” – and there are times where you just want to slowly back away from this episode and let it cry itself out in a dark room somewhere. Let us be compassionate, friends, and leave them to it.



23.

Dr. Crusher is kidnapped by terrorists who need medical assistance as the technology employed in their attacks is killing them.

This one’s got bits that are worth thinking about, certainly, but it lacks the complexity of POV, empathy, or theatricality to make it really effective Trek-metaphor. It's tough to invent a credible metaphor for this type of conflict. You either end up with "Let That Be Your Last Battlefield," which satisfies no one, or "The Cloud-Minders," which fails at its metaphorical mission but satisfies (and how!) in other ways. Or sometimes you get "Arena" aka one of the greatest uses of forty-five minutes invented by man. This one needed some sort of Kirk-crazed-by-space-dust-and-screaming sort of deal to push it over the edge, and it didn't get one.

I like when Beverly and Picard dance around their inevitable romance. Well, inevitable until Picard, I guess (the show). Now very much evitable. Technically I guess they still could, but I assume they have some wokier destination in mind than merely ending his character arc where it was clearly set up to go.


22.

A genetically modified soldier exposes the social 
problems of a world hoping to join the Federation.

This one's okay for what it is. The whole thing should be contrasted more starkly against the Trek way of life, sort of a “Taste of Armageddon” situation. Another way of saying the concept isn't explored as well as it might've been. The escape from the Enterprise bit was okay, although the series streamlined this sort of thing ("Starship Mine," "Rascals," others) as it went along. 

The whole thing is about five years too late for the Vietnam Vet angle they were probably going for.



21.
 

The Ferengi kidnap Troi, her mother Lwaxana, and Riker.

Ten-Forward seems to have one server who is in more than a few episodes. I keep trying to get a proper screencap of her but have failed. Does anyone know who I’m talking about? Is she only in a handful of season 3 episodes? It seems like every last person has been profiled at some point, so it's always surprising to see someone in more than a couple of episodes and have remained off my radar all these years. I'll keep an eye on this.

Is it weird that Gene's mistress - whose middle name was Deanna - wrote this one, i.e. the once-a-season showcase episode for Gene's wife? And naming it (Troi-entendre aside) after a threesome? (Sure it’s just French for any kind of love triangle, but I’d argue its connotation in the popular mind is mostly sexual. I'm an American and terribly unsophisticated.) And given all this Freudian-ness, what are we to make of a tall, bald eunuch that follows Lxwana around and never says a word? 


Even without this context, though, which admittedly is entirely a projection, everything is in questionable taste. Beyond taste, though, the script does not really add up either.



20.
 

Determined to avert a war, a Romulan officer defects to warn Captain Picard of his Empire's invasion plans.

James Sloyan - last seen round these parts in the Voyager episode "Jetrel" which I need to watch again as when I wrote this I was still anti-Neelix - plays the title role. Not a bad performance, but not the best episode. I never really buy the defector’s story, so the big plot twist only makes it worse. This Jarok guy never would’ve done this based only on what he saw. There are a lot of Cold War stories like this this, though, where someone defects and then realizes they were played by their own intelligence and then commits suicide. So, I guess it’s of that tradition.

There has to be some way to neutralize the advantage a cloaking device gives you. If only Starfleet ever got their hands on one – twice!


While we’re here, I don’t have a problem with the crew having extracurricular activities, like concerts or painting classes or holodeck adventures or what not. But the theater bits always seem to be too much. I guess the idea is in the future theater is enough of a part of people’s lives where they can dive into plays and play production in their spare time. A nice thought, but theater will always be a highly specialized art form. This isn’t a dealbreaker or anything, it’s just a bit much to see the entire senior crew (except Worf and Geordi) so involved in theater productions over the seven seasons on the show. And not just involved - directors or leading parts. Have you ever done a play? I mean, if you’re a starship captain or the chief medical officer, you don't have time to do this. 


19.
 

Riker falls for an assassin bent on carrying out an ancient blood feud in the midst of critical peace talks with a band of nomadic marauders.

A word on guest performances here: I spent this whole episode thinking the lady who plays the Sovereign was the lady from that one episode of Cheers where Sam hires someone to replace Diane on the promise made to Carla that he won't sleep with her daughter. Which, of course, goes badly. But nope, it's Nancy Parsons, who was in so many things I've seen that I slapped myself upside the head. Yuta is played by Lisa Wilcox, who was in quite a bit herself but notably for my own "Oh that's where I've seen her" moments, no less than two Nightmare on Elm Street films. 

Yuta’s whole deal is somewhat overcomplicated, both the multi-decade micro-virus plan and the cell-transformed instrument of vengeance denying her passion, etc.  Chorgan reminded me too much of Pete DeLouise from 21 Jump Street. (Wait is it him? No it is not.)

Then, at episode's end, Riker kills her? For real? No stun? No just beaming her into the brig? Wow. But: Trek can be inconsistent on such things. It sets up some good stuff from Stewart and Frakes in Ten-Forward at the very end.



18.
 

The Enterprise rescues a humanoid with amnesia and incredible healing powers.

I didn’t write down too much about this one in my notes. It’s okay, I guess? No great shakes. It has that feel of here-we-go-again-Gene to it, for me. I like how the evolution of people from savage to beings of light, in most of Trek’s reckonings, is just the humanoid journey, the galaxy over. Over a long enough timeline, hey maybe so.


17.
 

A mysterious entity seeks to comfort a boy who has lost his mother 
in an accident on its planet.

Ron Moore’s 1st script for TNG could’ve used a little more time in the oven. It’s a nice idea hampered by three things: (1) Wil Wheaton’s performance just isn’t that great. It needs to be to give the episode the oomph it deserves. Ditto for the kid playing Jeremy. (2) The whole thing hinges on Picard’s saying “on the starship Enterprise, no one is alone.” Nice sentiment, but how many times do we see Jeremy alone, here? Practically every scene he’s in! Is it meant to be ironic? Sorry about your parents, kid, now go sit in your quarters, surrounded by memories, until we remember to send someone to check on you. And (3) the alien lifeform isn’t fleshed out very well at all. 

I wonder if Jeremy and Sam Kirk ever exchanged letters about no one ever following up with them after their respective parents-died episodes.



16.
 

The Enterprise is plagued by an outbreak of violence when it is visited by the renowned Vulcan ambassador, Sarek. Discovering that Sarek is suffering from an incurable disease, Captain Picard must allow a mind-meld with him so that the ambassador can complete a last vital negotiation between the Federation and the Legaran.

Story by Peter S Beagle? Far out. 

I applaud Trek for dealing with uncomfortable subject matter in a sensitive way, but it’s a bit much. There’s a quality of actorly-indulgence to it al. It gives Mark Lenard a memorable exit episode, at least. I forget: is this mind-meld mentioned in Generations? If both Kirk and Picard mind-melded with Spock (and with Sarek) perhaps that was another connection between the two Captains inside the Matrix. Not that this makes Generations/ the matrix any more sensible. (And it would've ruined that wonderful bit at the ending of "Unification" if, after Nimoy's subtle emotion, remembering his father, the camera panned to Shatner, joining the mind-meld, the camera uncomfortably close to his trembling lips... But man! Comedy gold for a certain Trek fan. Namely me.) 


Picard met Sarek briefly at “his son’s wedding.” Which son, though? Spock? Sybok? Michael? Some yet-to-be-discovered branch of the family tree? That’s the good thing about Spock’s family; there’s always a sibling when you need one.



15.
 

Troi falls for a charismatic negotiator who vies for rights to a wormhole. But several different groups are after the wormhole as it may be the only known stable wormhole in existence.

As I’m typing these up I can’t believe where some of them are falling. This one is embedded in memory as two things: (1) completely over the top in the forced-romance/ seductive side, and (2) the one with the Beverly and Troi gratuitous-yoga scene. How did it end up here at number fifteen? Is it a middle of the pack episode or more of a clunker? I assure you this isn't for the gratuitous leotard yoga. Although I am developing a bit of a crush on the Ten Forward lady and one of the extras in Sick Bay. 

Matt McCoy’s character is creepy-eyed from the jump, so that’s no fun, and it's just another episode where Troi seems violated somehow.


The wormhole stuff is all great. That sense of utter “Oh shit” of being stuck on the other side of it, collapsing, is well-conveyed. (Come to think of it, that's why it's here at number fifteen; I love that scene.)



14.
 

Geordi is trapped on a harsh planet with a hostile Romulan named Bochra, but the two must work together to survive.

Solid episode, although it’s a bit boilerplate (struggle among enemies, soundstage storm, Worf’s dilemma, although that last one has a bit of surprise to it since Worf doesn’t have a chance of heart at the end to ‘do the right thing.’ Who’s to say the right thing for a Klingon is the same, even if directed to do so by a superior officer? The script handles it all well.) 

The guy playing Brocha is a bit overdone, but I like Tomalak. Seems like a good place to say it. TNG perhaps did not exploit the Romulans as well as they might have, but Tomalak (Andreas Katsulas, perhaps better known as Ambassador G'kar on Babylon Five) was cool.



13.
 

Nanites escape Wesley Crusher's lab and form a collective intelligence, 
threatening the Enterprise.

Pretty fine beginning to the third season. I thought so the night it aired (hello, September 25h, 1989! Say something for the camera). It has a bit of that zany-plotline-of-the-week quality (“Wesley’s science experiment escapes!”) but it’s handled well, and juxtaposed well against the older scientist character who has lost his ethical way. 

Or, looked at another way, perhaps not lost his ethical way, but whose science is based on a harder set of variables than Wesley’s. Kind of a generational-gap sort of episode. It’s a nice contrast. I kind of would have preferred a harder confrontation there, one that perhaps made the necessary point of trade-offs, even in a Trek utopia. 



12.

The Enterprise falls victim to an ancient booby trap set to snare starships. Geordi enlists the aid of the holodeck's representation of an accomplished Federation engineer Dr. Leah Brahms.

I don’t have a screencap for you, unfortunately, but at one point the subtitles refer to “Hungarian Rhapsody by Franz Liszt,” while clearly playing “Hungarian Dance” by Johannes Brahms. Come on, closed-captions-guy! It's even a tie-in to the name of the engines-designer we’re about to meet, for crying out loud.

I love Data’s “uh-oh” towards the beginning of this one in 10-forward re: Geordi’s appearance in Ten-Forward signaling a bad date. (Guess they do okay, though, as Geordi is seeing her again in a couple of episodes. He’d have probably said something stronger had he known what was about to happen in the holodeck with Leah Brahms.


Let’s talk about that for a second. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what Geordi is trying to accomplish here or how he’s going about it. If there was a real-life holodeck and a group of scientists were sexually harassing poor Gregor Mendell, or something, right now, and it resulted in a Covid-cure, I say, hey, whatever works. Reminds me of an obscure SNL skit with Ray Romano where he plays a soldier whose morale-raising bravado is unfortunately all very perverse and impossible to relate to (“just because the thought of me going down on a chicken right now is the only thing keeping us all alive is no reason to get violent!” or something like that). It’s mainly the dialogue that Brahms gets. I suppose if LeVar Burton had eyes to work with as an actor in this scene, perhaps he could’ve rolled them once or twice. Anyway, her dialogue and demeanor -and Geordi’s eating it up – is both somewhat uncomfortable and also kind of awesome, I think.


Not that I want to see him alone, but it all works better, though, if Geordi never gets the girl. Not that he does here, but in another episode, like I say. 



Does it rob the episode of some of its poignancy to do so? I think so, a little. 


11.

Lt. Reginald Barclay's use of the holodeck as an escape interferes with his duties. Meanwhile, the Enterprise suffers from mysterious and random malfunctions.

Speaking of “Is there anything wrong with this?” well… here’s one where there kinda is. But I also think it’s wrong for people to be able to walk into your holodeck program, too. What’s up with that? Lord knows Riker has enough of these holo-babe programs; does he want Captain Picard walking in on his giving a little oo-mox to some Ferengi tart? There should be hard and fast rules about utilizing your shipmates, though, as holodeck characters. 

Still: like so many things on TNG, everyone shrugs and says hey, you do you, weirdo. Even weirdos bring valuable assets to the table. If “Tin Man” is emo fantasy, this one is the cool-kids – cool being a highly relative term in this discussion – team up to help the awkward kid find his confidence and along the way find a way to integrate his perverse and wacky coping mechanisms into their dynamic, then he saves the day. 


All the holodeck stuff is gold, and this is probably Dwight Schultz’s finest hour as an actor. The discomfort and awkwardness is not just part of its charm but also of its redemption. The Broccolis of the world need to hear stuff like this.



10.

Troi and Riker must rectify the damage done when two primitives from Mintaka III catch a glimpse of a Federation observation team and eventually conclude that Captain Picard  is a god.

This is a good fleshing out of the concept (first contact / surveillance/ prime directive, etc.) Dr. Barron recommends a Kirk-like solutions, and Picard is appropriately indignant. He’s the Jean-Luc of Insurrection, here, and then later the Jean-Luc of First Contact, with Nuria. The sermonizing is perhaps too much on the pedantic side, but not too much.

Is this the most elaborately scored episode of the series? It might be.


Ray Wise starred with Jonathan Frakes in Henry VII. Not sure whiat roles they had, but given Patrick Stewart’s background in Shakespeare, I bet there was some actor-nerd-stuff going on in the make-up chair and between takes. "Isn't there another way we can look at Horatio, my dear fellow?" and the like.



9.

The Enterprise investigates the last two survivors of an annihilated world, as the entire surface has been transformed to dust except their one little house and garden.

An amusing enough little mystery, with nice performances from Anne Haney and John Anderson . Worf’s “good tea, nice house” small talk is somewhat iconic. 

It has always amused me that there’s this alien mystery guy named “Kevin.”


Picard's line about having no law with which to judge him makes sense, but seems somewhat haphazardly applied by Starfleet.


8.

Aliens kidnap Captain Picard and replace him with a duplicate who sends 
the Enterprise to a pulsar. Meanwhile, the real Picard and three other captives try to escape from their prison.

Another amusing little mystery. Are these the same aliens as from “The Empath”? I think they did one of those things where if they explicitly made it so, they’d have to pay royalties to someone somewhere, so they made the visual just enough to put the idea in anyone’s head and left it at that. I didn’t look it up.  

The fake Picard is very fun. Is there any imdb connection to the X-Files doppelganger episode? Some of the beats play out somewhat similarly. I didn't find any on first pass; I thought perhaps I'd find both were directed by Rob Bowman or something but not the case. 



7.
 

Commander Riker is accused of murder and the holodeck is used to reconstruct the events from different perspectives.

(Re: the header screencap: it's perspective, see? It's not just the naked model, I'm telling you.)

The legal mechanics of this make a little more sense than they do in something like “Wolf in the Fold” or (way more than) “Court Martial.” Really if they rely on psycho-tricorders and computer testimony the way they do then “tampering with the computer” should be the first thing anyone checks. Or: roll back the video. Oh right, they don’t surveil everyone in the world of Trek. Which sounds like I’m criticizing – I am not, I love that. I hope that’s the same future for us, too. 

This one is a very enjoyable one. It’s just written into the concept. Fun stuff. I think I’ve seen it like twenty times, and I’ll see it twenty more I’m sure. When my wife and I got engaged I made a list of ten TNG episodes and said look, we need to watch these, if only so you know what you’re getting into / understand my references to come down the pike. She watched them all (bless her) but I can’t remember if this one was one of them. I don’t think it was, but it’s the sort of story I think she’d like. I don’t think she’d get past the alien visuals, though; she has low tolerance for that.



6.
 

Data must persuade a stubborn colony to evacuate their homeland under threat of a powerful and mysterious race.

Outside of some of its minor flaws, this is really a perfect little prototypical slice of Trek. It even has chamber music symmetry in beginning and end, which is very cool. Every character has something to work on, every little bit propels things forward. Well done, writers room. It’s very satisfying seeing both Data and Picard get the upper hand, and the Sheliak Corporate are a memorable race. 

Goshevon is a little overdone, but that’s good drama. Maybe it’d have been better if he was more sympathetic instead of so obstructive? But it all works very well. The colony’s machines were rendered inoperable by the radiation and they lost some of their faith in such things even if they still use Starfleet technology; their hardship leads to their attitude, as embodied by Goshevon. Data is like a literalized reminder of the fears from their beginning.
What is the title a reference to? Is that where the ‘thee and me’ comes from?


Two last things: (1) I can’t recall where I saw it but someone did one of those mash-ups where Data gets the mission at the beginning and then it cuts to him phaser-firing at everyone and everything and him yelling “I COULD REDUCE THIS PUMPING STATION TO A PULP!” Just thinking about it makes me laugh; I wish I could find it for you.



And (2) The colony is like twenty thousand people isn’t it? Yet Goshevon is always available for an audience. And when he calls a meeting – the most important in the colony’s recent memory- it’s an impromptu gathering by the fountain, and like twenty people show up? They could’ve worked that up a bit.


5.

The USS Enterprise-C arrives from the past causing a shift in reality and the return of the deceased Tasha Yar.

This was my favorite episode of the series for awhile. I’d given up on TNG at this point. Not sure what episode did it, but it’d been a few weeks since I checked in and I remember only watching this one because my brother spoke highly of it. And I loved it – for years, it was the only TNG episode I said I liked. It took me until years later and two different ex-girlfriends for me to fully embrace the show and finally see every episode.

Anyway: I loved it then, I love it now, I just got a little burnt out on it.  Hits all the beats it’s meant to hit and then some. 


Michael Piller co-wrote this but took his name off for Writers Guild reasons so his staff could get their credits. What a guy. Has anyone ever said anything bad about Michael Piller? I’ve never seen it. I was amused to discover Ron Moore’s original contributions included grisly deaths in graphic detail of all the principal cast members (Data electrocuted, Wesley’s head blown off, etc.) Those were the times.



4.
 

Data creates a young android, Lal, which he considers his daughter. But a Starfleet Admiral arrives demanding she be removed from the Enterprise.

Frakes’ directorial debut. Kind of “The Child” but for Data (i.e. cast member has a kid; conveniently gone by episode’s end) but man this one packs a lot of punch. Is it ever so slightly emotionally manipulative? I mean, sure, but only in the way something like “The Inner Light” is, too. A lot of great (and some uncomfortable) truths wrapped up in these forty-odd minutes. It hits some surprisingly poignant notes on its way to restoring the status quo. 

One thing I rather enjoy about TNG (and VOY too) is that you can sense a lot of the intelligence, sensitivity, and social awkwardness of the writers of the show. These were young men and women (for the most part) still grappling with big questions of life, gifted a chance to work it out on the Trek soundstage. Something like this represents the best of such an approach in many ways. 


That scene where Lal is alone at school – ugh. Man that hits me in the gut. And her whole farewell with Data. Great stuff from both Spiner and guest Hallie Todd as Lal.



3.
 

Lt. Worf goes on trial to prove his father's innocence after the Klingon High Council declares that Worf's father is a traitor and had worked with the Romulans all along.


“It is a good day to die, Duras, and the day is not yet over.”

Heeeey Worf’s got a brudda.



"I got a brudda!"

And it’s Tony Todd! Apparently TT had auditioned for several roles, and the producers kept calling him back trying to find something to fit him. Makes sense – he’s perfect here as Kurn. I was so happy they didn’t kill him off. Yet. I love when he smears the caviar on the dead bird. (Which is replicated with bones, for some reason? Wacky choice, no? Though I guess you want to impress the Klingons.)


That waitress in Ten Forward is back. Okay, I am attempting to get a screencap now.



Here she is. I have trouble getting screencaps from Netflix sometimes, that pause/play thing always gets delayed a nanosecond and screws it up. But this one worked.



Another non-episode-related comment: the little rated PG thing in the corner has "Sex and Fear" as the reasons given for the rating. Sex and fear? On TNG?

It’s such a trip to watch this one and remember when it was pretty much the first real glimpse into Klingon goings-on. I remember when this was all such an unknown, and every little blank filled in was cool as hell. 

I like, too, how it’s literally called “the Klingon High Council,” like, among themselves. I hope in between ruining everyone’s lives on a daily basis our congresspeople refer to themselves as “the Human Congress.” Extra points if they pronounce it “hu-mon”.

This was also one of the first episodes where Picard kicked a little ass (something the actor had been advocating for behind the scenes) and that was cool to see. I remember talking about that to my Trek friends after this aired, actually; we were all very impressed to discover Captain Picard could take on several Klingons in hand to hand combat.


2.
 

Captain Picard is kidnapped by the Borg 

as they begin their invasion of Federation space.

One reads many anecdotes about the impact this cliffhanger had on the future of the franchise, namely that for the first time, despite being the most popular show in syndication (an opaque distinction to Nielson-watchers) they realized they were onto something.  Cast and crew were bothered wherever they went about how it was going to end; it was a bit of a cultural moment. Not much of one, really (not a Who Shot JR moment, or even a Who Shot Mr. Burns moment) but pretty cool. 

I, however, was not one of them. I wish I could say I was, but I’d punted on the show by this point. No one could ever believe – after talking to me for five minutes and Trek coming up four or five times – I’d never seen it. But I only ever saw it years and years later. Really, for most of the nineties, I was familiar only with the first two-and-a-half seasons of TNG, minus the finale which I watched (and loved) the night it aired (albeit a few hours later, as I had to work and my Mom bless her taped it for me).


This is both under and overrated. Under in that each time I watch it I’m so caught up in it, and the pacing is terrific, likewise the twists, all the performances, the sets, everything. And over just because people haven’t shut up about it since it aired, and I think there are better (and even Trekkier/ TNG-ier) episodes. 


A single caveat – much like Geordi’s romance with Leah Brahms being slightly more impactful had he not got the girl whose rejection sent him to the holodeck (so to speak) in the first place, everything we see here would’ve made a fantastic actual departure for Riker. I’m glad it wasn’t, I’m just saying: it’s Riker’s finest hour, here, up to this point, and the story would’ve resolved itself better had it ended with his taking the captain’s chair on the Melbourne. (Well, once they built a new one.)


Things that are futile according to the Borg: resistance. Irrelevant: strength, freedom, self-determination, death.


People hated on Lt. Shelby (Liz Dennehy) for a long time. Do they still? Unfair if so. Too bad they never referenced her again. 


More to say on this one next time when we watch pt. 2. One last thing for now, at the beginning, they pointedly say "put us down in the center of town." And then they appear on the edge of a huge crater.


The Borg have done one of their scoop-up-the-whole-city things. (Although we never actually see them do anything like this, in any episode. They must have a Cube with one of those giant-claws on the bottom in drydock somewhere.) I'm indebted to the Nitpickers guide for this, but... does that picture really make sense as the center of town? Wouldn't they be in the center of the crater? It's a better shot to be at the edge of the crater, although not really: a digital pullback to the edge would've been easy enough. I guess the issue would be: how would the transporter chief justify beaming them to the new center of town, i.e. a hundred feet below the surface, at the bottom of the crater?

Maybe the transporter just automatically makes these decisions.


1.

Captain Picard is convinced to take some much needed shore leave on Risa and becomes embroiled in a woman's treasure hunt.

And what a time to discover I have no notes on this one! I don’t really need them, though. This has always been one of my favorite episodes of the show. I love the adventure-on-holiday trope, as well as the time-traveling historians one, as well as the sex-tourism-planet one. The whole thing is kind of the closest Trek will come to Romancing the Stone, and I like the odd success of pulling that off. 

Ira Steven-Behr tells an amusing story about pitching this episode to an erratic Gene, one that ended with his being told "Oh don't listen to anything Gene says; just get the Captain laid." It's funny how one of my favorite episodes had such a crazy genesis.


The ending of this, when Picard destroys to the Tox Uthat and the Vorgons fade out, having seen destiny unfold, is so cool. I predicted this would be the ending the first time I saw this and have always been happy with myself about it. 

Is Vash (Jennifer Hetrick, another LA Law connection) Picard's coolest girlfriend? Probably.

And now for some leftover screencaps: 

Appraising the Captain's painting.
Wesley Crusher, Teenage F**k Machine. (As someone once said.) So incongruent to the Wesley we see everywhere else on the show. More of this should've been done.
Imperious leader.
Directed by Wes Anderson.
Solid.

~
Until next time!

5.02.2020

'April Is the Cruelest Month'


“Measured out my life with coffee spoons”
“Lonely men in shirt sleeves”
“Bitten off with a smile”
“Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse.”
“Do I dare/ to eat a peach?” 

First time I heard this was as spoken by Jack Dalton, Diane's ex from the s4 Cheers episode:
Not to be confused with Jack Dalton from Macgyver. Or Jack Colton from Romancing the Stone, or Jack Dawson from Titanic.  Or anything by the Allman Brothers.

“Lingered in the chambers of the sea.”
- Selections from “Love Song of J Prufrock”

“Smoke and fog of a December afternoon.”
“And so the conversation slips”
“Now that lilacs are in bloom/ she has a bowl of lilacs in her room”
“Tobacco trance”
“A cowardly amends”
- Portrait of a Lady


“Burnt-out ends of smoky days.”
“The conscience of a blackened street / impatient to assume the world.”
- Preludes

“Midnight shakes the memory as a madman shakes a dead geranium.” 
- Rhapsody on a Windy Night


“Her laughter was submarine and profound.”
“Worried bodies of drowned men.”
- La Figla che Pairge

“A dull head among windy spaces.”
“Neither fear nor courage.”
“Whirled beyond the circuit of the shuddering Bear.”
-   Geronation

“A heap of broken images.”
“April is the cruelest month.”
“Lilacs out of the dead land.”
“I will show you fear in a handful of dust.” 

Close, Sandman, very close.

“Drowned the sense in odors.”
“Withered stumps of time.”
“I think we are in rats alley / where the dead men lost their bones.”
“Thunder of spring over distant mountains.”
“Dry stale thunder without rain.”
“Doors of mudcracked houses.”
“Ringed by the flat horizon.”
“Bats with baby faces in the violet light.”
- The Waste Land


“Eyes I dare not meet in dreams.”
“Sunlight on a broken column.”
“This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper.”
- The Hollow Men

“The indigestible portions which the leopards reject.”
“For only the wind will listen.”
“The garden where all loves end.”
“The years that walk between.”
“Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew/ and this our exile.”
“Eighty years and no tomorrow.”
- A Song for Simeon

“Content with playing cards and kings and queens”
“The pain of living and the drug of dreams”
“Spectre in its own gloom.”
- Animula

“Woodthrush calling through the fog.”
- Marina

(Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Queen of the Night 1815)

Four Quartets

“Neither ascent nor decline.”
“Distracted from distraction by distraction.”
- Burnt Norton

“Where the field mouse trots”
“In a warm haze the sultry light is absorbed, not refracted, by grey stone.”
“Dawn points, and another day prepares for heat and silence.”
“Hollyhocks that are too high.”
“The intolerable wrestle with words and meaning.”
“Only the knowledge of dead secrets / useless in the darkness into which they peered / or from which they turned their eyes.”
“And cold the scene and lost the motive.”
“Old men ought to be explorers.”
- East Corker


“The sea is all about us.”
“Between midnight and dawn, when the past is all deception.”
“People change, and smile, but the agony abides.”
“Like the river with its cargo of dead.”
- The Dry Salvages

“Ash on an old man’s sleeve/ is all the ash the burnt roses leave.”
“Dust in the air suspended/ marks the place where a story ended.”
“Of sanctuary and choir, this is the death of water and fire.”
“Compliant to the common wind.”
- Little Giddon


~
About this Post: I recently downloaded the Complete Poems of TS Eliot and thought I'd jot down a few lines and phrases that struck me. I'm earmarking some of these as potential titles for stories not-yet-written. Hemingway, when stuck for a title, plucked his from the Book of Ecclesiastes. Same sort of rationale here. I'd like to write a story for each of the fragments above. 

I occasionally do Scenic Route/ mash-up posts. Not to everyone's taste, of course, but I enjoy the process. I just threw in some pictures I had lying about. I like the effect such incongruities have on my brainwaves.   

Incidentally, I had to read 'Four Quartets' for a 'Zen and the Literary Experience' class I took at Rhode Island College. Loved it at the time but struggled to connect with it this time out.

Still, a worthwhile reading experience. I downloaded a Complete Poems of WB Yeats to do the same with that one, but - to my surprise - I didn't connect with much of anything in there. After three hundred pages (!) I realized I wasn't really collecting any meaningful fragments. Yeats is, apparently, over my head.


Nothing beats "The Second Coming," though, which remains the most metal thing ever written. My middle child recently had to read a poem to her kindergarten class over their remote set-up. I lobbied unsuccessfully for "The Second Coming." ('What rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?" Indeed.) She chose one about the seven continents instead. So it goes.

Originally, I thought I'd change the original line to 'April was the cruelest month,' past tense, to reflect the cruelty just ended. But it felt like tempting fate. Don't want to ever give the gods of cruelty and plague-whimsy any excuse to Hold-My-Beer the situation.

4.30.2020

If It Bleeds (2020)

Hey, look what came in the mail the other day:


Bless you, Amazon.

Four new novellas from Stephen King. Just finished last night. You? 

No? Caution: there be spoilers ahead. Yes? Let's boogie. 


"Mr. Harrigan's Phone"

A teenager finds that a dead friend's cell phone, that was buried with the body, still communicates from beyond the grave.

That’s the wiki plot summary. I was going to use it because I was having trouble coming up with my own and got sick of trying. But really, Wikipedia? That’s terrible. All of their summaries are terrible for this book, actually. Have a look:

The Life of Chuck: As the world around him crumbles into oblivion, a man realizes that he contains multitudes.

If It Bleeds: Holly Gibney of the Finders Keepers detective agency is working on the case of a missing dog when she sees footage of a school bombing on TV. But when she tunes in to the late-night report, she realizes there is something not quite right about the correspondent who was first on the scene. Soon, she will find that she is not the only one to have suspicions about the reporter.

Rat: A writer with writer's block, seeks a devilish bargain to help him finish a novel.

Each is somewhat accurate, but... not quite. And what details are accurate are haphazard. Also grammatically dubious. I can only assume since it's brand new they didn't want wikipedia to put too much in the entry. But still! Mainly I'm just annoyed because now I have to do it. So here goes: 


Craig, a preteen living with his widower father, is hired to read to Mr. Harrigan, a retired rich guy with whom he strikes an unlikely friendship. He buys the elderly man an iPhone - one of the first models - as a present, and when the old man dies, he slips it into his shirt pocket to be buried with him. 

When he calls the phone to hear his friend's voice, he ends up leaving a message out of habit, mostly to unburden himself, about a kid who was bullying him. Days later, he discovers the bully has hung himself. Craig (last name not given - I don't think) has received his first text message from beyond the grave...

Better? A little.

The set-up starts as straight out of "Low Men in Yellow Coats" but doesn't stay there. Except - we've seen this before haven't we? What story am I thinking of? Isn't it one of the ones in Bazaar of Bad Dreams? Not the specific cellphone in a dead man's pocket but the wishing death on people and people killing themselves? Maybe I'm just thinking of Dinky and "Everything's Eventual." 

Whatever the case, I thought this was kind of underwhelming. Perfectly fine, I mean, if it was King's only story, you'd read it and say hey, that guy had a pretty natural style, that was pretty good. Wonder what else he would've done? But having written so much and having covered any theme coming up in here any other number of times, it felt a bit perfunctory to me. Not much to distinguish this protagonist from others, this set-up here from that set-up there, etc. 

I like to try and figure out which novella was written after which book, as he's talked about how they're sort of working out different angles of the work that is (then-currently) cooling in first draft mode.  He says in the Author's Note that he's had the idea since he was a kid watching Alfred Hitchcock Presents, and it re-fired in his imagination when a friend died and King called his cellphone to hear his voice one last time. Kind of sad, that. No kind of about it. Anyway: my guess is after after Finder's Keepers. Possibly Revival, maybe. Just a hunch.

Much of the action takes place in Gates Falls, so of course I'm wondering if there’s a Graveyard Shift (or Kingdom Hospital) connection I missed. 


"The Life of Chuck"

Novella number two is split into three sections: (1) Marty and his ex-wife grapple with the impending apocalypse. As the world around them shuts down, little by little, they keep seeing strange tributes to an unknown accountant named Chuck Krantz, first on billboards and marquees, then on Netflix, then projected onto people's front windows. (2) Chuck Krantz dances to a busker boy in Beantown. And (3) Chuck remembers the haunted room at his grandparents' house where he grew up, where his grandfather saw his grandmother's death and where Chuck sees a vision of his own. 


The human brain is finite – no more than a sponge of tissue inside a cage of bone – but the mind within the brain is infinite. The storage capacity is colossal, its imaginative reach beyond our ability to comprehend. I think when a man or woman dies, a whole world falls to ruin – the world that person knew and believed in. Think of that, kiddo – billions of people on earth, and each one of those billions with a world inside. The earth that minds have conceived.”

The above is kind of the theme of each of these stories in If It Bleeds, except the title one. It's made perhaps a little too explicitly in the 'I contain multitudes' motif running through these, mainly because I'm not sure if Chuck as presented does contain multitudes. While true of every human, every life (as mentioned in the previous novella, that old proverb: "When an old man dies, it's like a library has burned down.") ... I mean, what are Chuck's multitudes? A divorced couple? A busker boy and a random woman from the crowd? It just doesn't hold together as the unifying metaphor he wants it to, I don't think. Maybe for life, but not for this story-cycle.

It is sort of a meditation of King on his life/ life in general. Why did you stop to listen, and why did you stop to dance?” but when he forgets all else, he will remember: “how he stopped, and dropped his briefcase, and began to move his hips to the beat of the drums, and he will think that is why God made the world. Just that.” Or as the drummer-kid says, ‘you lose the beat if you stop and think too much.’ King's said the same thing about writing, plenty of times. 

Thing is, like I say, for me this just isn't very compelling fiction. He made the same dancing-as-Shiva-gestalt point more effectively elsewhere. (11/22/63, "Willa", et al.) There's no meat here: I mean the story is literally: kid plays drum on street, business-guy dances, woman from crowd dances, the three talk about how "wow, we were dancing" and then there's all this wordy reaching around it for cosmic revelation.

Part three is pretty cool. (Although it reminded me a bit of one story from Skeleton Crew, or maybe from another collection. I must resume my King's Short Fiction project one of these days.) Parts one and three are pretty great, actually; part two just isn't. It's just not an interesting set of events, no matter how you dress it up. I'm reminded of Kerouac's dictum 'it's not whatcha write, it's the way that you write it." But the way he told it part of the problem; it's just a lot of wordy reaching for cosmic resonance. Sort of like Elevation (which is my vote for what he finished writing before finishing this one) was, although no one would call that work "wordy." 

Too bad, as parts one and three could've worked well on their own, but hobbled together with part two and as a trilogy of interlocking revelation, they do not. I was reminded of Hearts in Atlantis, particularly the stories that aren't the title novella or "Low Men in Yellow Coats." The chase is interesting but unsuccessful.

"If It Bleeds"

I won't hazard a guess as to when this one was written. Clearly after The Outsider, but from his "I wonder what's happening with Holly Gibney?" remarks in the Author's Note at the end of the book, I don't get the impression it was written immediately after. 

This one is mostly fine. It's an effective little mystery, I guess, although there are some aspects that didn't work me. Namely: (1) the cross-cutting at the end, to "build suspense." These sections of King’s work, almost always at the end of a story, where it’s just a couple of paragraphs of slow-moving cross-cutting that sometimes occupy up to 50 pages of text, replete with big white spaces between all the sections, would take four or five seconds of screen time. It’s not all about economy, but one wonders who finds this stuff exciting. Same can be found in each of the Hodges books as well as the agonizing last 100 pages of Dreamcatcher. (2) Most of the denouement, which is like a bad Garrison Keillor pastiche (Christmas with the Robinsons, Holly and her Mom) but not all of it. Not terrible, just a tad overwrought. And (3) The heavy hand of the author, not in a political sense but in the "I am telling you a bunch of things about the elevator, very conspicuously, so get ready for the elevator to come back into play" sense. More than once. Early on, when it was spending so much time (and by that I mean, only a page and a half or so) on Chet's back and forth with the CNN anchor it felt like he was waving something in the air behind the character's heads, then you turn the page and oh: there it is. King is weird about stuff like that. On one hand, the elevator-details / Chet-aforementioned are so conspicuous, then on the other, he buries little things, like Holly's imaginary name for the killer, obliquely referenced once again at the end. He's too cagey about some things and way too much of a "tell" with others. 

I mean, I mostly liked it fine. It's better than any of the Hodges books (maybe not the middle one actually) but frankly that's not too hard. It's not better than The Outsider, so why would you do it? I get trying, but why release it, I mean? Like "Mr. Harrigan's Phone" (or Doctor Sleep) this would be a delightful posthumous discovery, but I can't see why he'd feel the need to publish it. I guess he's beyond not publishing stuff; what he writes gets published, end of story. If I were his editor, I'd be more cautious. But hey. 



Part of what makes The Outsider work is the characters having to reconcile reality and unreality, piecing together a conventional murder mystery (evidence, counter-evidence, motive, lawyers, etc.) with a conventional horror story (the monster, etc.) But none of that happens here, just a huge (and somewhat improbable) info dump from an old guy who (somewhat improbably) has been "tracking" the monster for decades. Which is fine: I mean, it makes sense for any continuation of Holly's story to not cover the same ground of convincing the world the supernatural exists. But, not as effective storytelling, for me. He comes up with a clever way to get Holly and the old guy together, but the old guy isn't very believable.

Speaking of, her contention that she has found "another Outsider" is kind of weird, isn't it? I mean it's another doppelganger type, sure, or as she says, different breeds for different dogs. But a cocker spaniel has the same gestation period and endocrine system as a german shepherd. Or a gray wolf, for that matter. Whereas this Outsider can change wily-nily to pre-set people: a completely different operation than the creature she faced in the other book. If she wanted to say this was some distant cousin of said creature, okay, but no such distinction is made. That seemed odd for a character like Holly.

A word on the central motif of this one, wrapped up in the title: there are certainly those (and making them media people is apt) who feed on fear and panic, and who thrive on the fear and panic of others. It's just weird that real-world-Steve is so fine not just cozying up to them but actively and aggressively enabling such a thing. In his media-life, absolutely, but perhaps, to a point, in his fiction, as well. I won't argue with you if you disagree, but it seems pretty obvious to me that he has no problem stoking fear and loathing and undoubtedly draws sustenance from doing so, both individually and in a group. 

I had a lot more written on this point, but long story short: King is a bit of an Outsider himself, but he's also - perhaps the greater part of him - Holly Gibney as well. 




"Rat"

A would-be novelist is seized by an idea he must complete. He heads to a family cabin in the unincorporated townships of Maine to flesh it out, just in time for a big-ass storm and an encounter with a wish-granting rat. 

Long story short: it was all rat.

Nah, it was more than that. I was a little let down by the ending. Kind of fizzles to a close, this one. Also, in the haven't-we-seen-this-before side of things, it brought to mind both "Fair Extension" and "Gerald's Game," and, despite taking pains to distinguish him from others, many other King protagonists. None of these were hills to die on, but perhaps it needed a kick-ass ending to distinguish itself somewhat and didn't get one. 

I avoided reading my buddy Bryant's review of this one until just now, but as he points out, making Drew Larson a writer and "Rat" another story about a writer writing: "King's writer protagonists form one of the elements of his career that can sometimes be used satirically; if you're trying to write a King pastiche, it's probably going to contain an evil clown or a rabid dog or a haunted ___________ (e.g., car), and the main character is going to be a writer in Maine. Thing is, King writes writers pretty damn well."

And that's also the long and short of it. Not just write what you know, but write what you know well. I think novellas and stories are (by his own admission) a sort of post-novel cleansing of the palate/ yoga stretch for King, and it's probably good for his writing muscles to just do some twelve bar blues for a start and see what develops.

I did chuckle that this self-pastiche also included a big-ass storm at the end and at least one character talking telepathically. 

And another one (like the first part of "Life of Chuck") where real-world verisimilitude creeped me out while reading. Had I read this a month ago - when I was waking up in the middle of the night sucking for breath with my lungs aching and wondering if my kids were going to find me dead in the morning and the world ending in anger and fear and the crazy Chicago winds and rain hitting the window and voices in my head droning on about the vast unfulfilled promise to myself about writing a book anytime up to now - I'd have thought King was speaking directly to me.

You hear that from a lot of King fans, that feeling of being spoken directly to, of writing directly commenting on your situation. It reminds me of something Chuck Klosterman wrote about Billy Joel. It's a lot harder to write something that appeals to a broad cross-section of the world (and all their individual multitudes) than it is something that simply  expresses the uniqueness of the author. Many people have that backwards in their estimation of artists. Hats off - all the hats off - to King, once more. 


~
Which brings me to the end. I always feel a mix of melancholy and gratitude when I get to the inevitable "And you, Constant Reader, thanks to you" line before closing the book. 

There's a new feeling these days, which I wish did not exist but there's no point pretending otherwise, this feeling of  "how long do I have left to count myself among these ranks?" Not in the death-and-oblivion way, but in the pointed-exclusion/exile-from-Constant-Reader-land way. There's such cancel-culture pressure going on these days - over optics, not of substance - where anyone's fandom/ affection can suddenly be un-personed. Put baldly, it sure feels like King/ other Constant Readers are saying more and more these days "If you don't think a, b, or c, then you are not welcome here." 

This is the main reason why I avoid social-media-King. It's painful to be reminded of this and to feel such an indelible part of my life and imagination could be taken from me - and I mean taken, not given up voluntarily - with just one thoughtless tweet or smug appearance on Colbert, as cheered on mercilessly by all in that loop of thinking. As if it were actually in the power of even the author or my fellow readers to “cancel” anyone's Constant Readerhood. 

It's not that it's incredibly difficult to do this, but it's an extra step, and it's a segregation-minded step, and to be honest I really have grown to resent it. The opposite - to float downstream of One True Narrative, with God on your side (so to speak) and think problems outside the stream are self-inflicted or imaginary - this strikes me as comparatively easy. Moreover - and irritatingly - it is exactly this sort of difficulty/ examination that works like "If It Bleeds" purport to examine; what is the media doing and what are its consumers doing? Who is exploiting it, and to what purpose? For whose benefit?

Meh. It's a note I'd rather not end on, friends. But it's what the last line of the Author's Note brought to mind. 

I also, however, feel another way, which still - thankfully - overridesany other: like I’ve made it to another rung on a ladder that stretches back to my childhood and hopefully up into the unforeseen horizon. 

4.18.2020

Ain't (Done) Talkin' Bout (Van Halen)


Honor demands that since I did a top ten for the Van Hagar era I had to do one for the David Lee Roth era. 

I went ahead and made a playlist rather than linking to each below. Here it is. (God do I hate Grammarly ads.) You can keep it handy and click where applicable/ desired, or you can go for the big prize, Brewster, and crank Van Halen I through 1984, over and over again in your stereo of choice. Repeat as necessary. 

Limiting myself to only ten songs of the DLR era seemed a crime against nature, so here's the top fifteen. I avoided covers as a mild policy (mild meaning I made an exception for this rule almost immediately, below.) 


Without further ado...

15.
"Hang 'Em High"

It was a neck-and-neck finish right up to the end between this one and "Take Your Whiskey Home." What pushed this one ahead is mostly that middle 8. This song is, subject-matter-wise, kind of unlike anything else the band ever did. Unless it's some metaphor I've never unraveled for the usual hi-jinks. 


14.
"Big Bad Bill is Sweet William Now"

Here's my exception to the cover rule. Is it their best cover? Probably not, but it's the one I picked. I love that Mr. Van Halen, Sr. plays clarinet on this, and it's no surprise to discover Eddie sounds as masterful doing Django Reinhardt-type runs and strumming as he does doing everything else. 

My wife and I are watching The Wire. Her first time, my third or fourth. This would make a good, totally-confusing accompaniment to one of the end-of-the-season montages. I'm thinking of the Marlo one at the end of s5, I guess. I keep joking that everytime one of the characters is driving and we see the "rap music playing" subtitle that the funniest thing ever would be if each of those scenes had Aerosmith and Run DMC's "Walk This Way" playing over those parts. You should try this; it's hilarious. I hope some enterprising young junior high kid out there gets on this and uploads such a thing to YouTube. ("Just give me a kiss!")

I say this for the same reason I am writing this: the therapeutic value of finding your own laughter, particularly in the face of absurd and unambiguously-suck-ass circumstances like the ones we find ourselves in, or of cranking Van Halen, cannot be discounted. 




13.
"D.O.A."

This riff is awesome. They simply do not make the Eddie Van Halen model anymore. That factory shut down, probably for good. This isn't as unprecedented as it sounds; they don't make the W.A. Mozart or Glenn Miller or Frank Sinatra models anymore, either. Time and place. We're just lucky to have seen it/ lived it. Crank it!

Captured forever in every Van Halen song of this period, like forty million year old flies preserved in amber, is some endless SoCal late-70s/early-80s house party, where kids are sneaking in more and more booze, the host's house is getting trashed, and kids are skateboarding in the empty swimming pool. 




12.
"Beautiful Girls"

I was not listening to much Van Halen during my years at the University of Rhode Island 1992-1994. This was pretty much my Phish/ The Beatles/ Jane's Addiction phase. (Also Sinatra - so it goes.) And yet: all memories of the years I spent in Kingston, RI (particualrly that first party-drenched year of 1992-1993) seem accompanied by this song. Not sure when or how that happened, but apparently it is the official song to all mental recollections of this era in my life. As a friend reminded me, too, it was the original soundtrack to this politically incorrect but nevertheless harmless and still-funny fake commercial for Schmidt's Gay from back when SNL wasn't just yet another blunt narrative instrument. I'd forgotten about that - definitely funnier with the Van Halen. 

Beyond that, it's a great song, full of sunshine, that expresses an essential truth. And even if you find yourself alone on some world bereft of beautiful people, it still works as an ironic reminder of the ridiculousness of your surroundings. 


11.
"Romeo Delight"

This one comes charging out of the gate. If the whole song kept up the energy of that opening breakout, it'd probably be my favorite Van Halen tune all around. But it kind of falters in some of the other sections. Nevertheless, another in the essential Van Halen arsenal. (And another about sneaking whiskey into the party. Outside of sex, it always seems to come down to sneaking booze in to the party with Van Halen. 

I like when David Lee Roth drawls "I know the law, friend." Woe be to the defendant with David Lee Roth as his or her lawyer.)



10.
"Top Jimmy"

This song - named after, I believe, their coke contact at some New York club - has such a lovely intro. I love when people get unexpected sounds out of a guitar, whether they're Sonic Youth, Yes, or Van Halen, or whomever. Van Halen's whole discography (up to a certain point in the nineties) is like a museum for this phenomenon.

I love the rest of it, too, but that intro - and when it comes back in later - hypnotizes me.


9.
"The Full Bug"

Awesome riff, fantastic energy. Honestly, there's nothing for me to type up.

As I write these words, my two girls are camped in front of the TV in the room next to mine singing along - for the hundredth or thousandth time, I don't know - to their YouTube playlist of Descendants song. (That's Disney, not Milo Goes to College.) "When I say All, you say Day! ALL DAY! ALL! DAY!") They love this crap. My son, on the other hand, awaits his turn for the millionth playing of "Everybody Poops" by the GoNoodle weirdos, or "Wie Sir Die Roboter" by Kraftwerk, which he freaking loves. Over and over. (Two of my three children went through a huge Kraftwerk phase in this two-to-three-year-old range; someone needs to study this.)


I'm just saying, it makes sense why I'm cranking so much Van Halen. Beyond just for its own sake.




8.
"I'm the One"

This is the one I, like a lot of people I bet, always remember as "Show Your Love." Even nowadays, after you'd figure I'd have learned this by now, when looking at my notes for this post (yes, I took notes - which seems a very un-Van-Halen-thing to do) I had to cross out "Show Your Love" from my list of songs to include. 

How many times have I heard this song? Going back to when I'd cut lawns with this in my headphones (at a blistering volume so I could hear it over the lawnmower) and I had a Van Halen mix tape with this as song #2 (right after "And the Cradle Will Rock") - I mean, shoot, that summer alone, fifty times at least. Multiply times however many in the thirty years since.

Still rocks! 


This guy definitely agrees.


7.
"Ain't Talkin' 'bout Love"

Like anyone else out there, probably, I'm sick of this song. It's just one of those ubiquitous classic rock radio songs. But I have to give it its due as pretty much a classic tune. I try to listen to it with fresh ears and can think of little to improve.

I have an enduring joke I try to make happen with this song, by the way. It never works and won't work now, but hey, here it is. You remember those rumors about how "In the Air Tonight" was about a real-life drowning that Phil Collins saw? So disturbed, he wrote the song, got the guy who let the girl drown on the beach to come to his concert, then brought him to the concert to expose his crime to the world? I doubt this urban legend is as well-distributed these days as it once was, but it used to. Anyway, I always picture David Lee Roth doing something similar at a concert during the middle 8 where it gets dramatic. ("You know I lost a lot of friends there, baby...")

But what would he be talking about? That's where the joke gets murky. The best I've ever come up with is: he was at The Edge's house, once, hanging out with U2, and he was on his back deck, and they were looking down at the rocks crashing into the surf or something, which I imagine is the view from any successful rocker's backyard, and the Edge told him a Large Marge-type tale of all the people who stood there, looking down, and fell to their deaths, and the experience scarred DLR. 

True story. That happened


6.
"Sunday Afternoon in the Park"

Holy smokes this song is cool. Fair Warning is a bit of an anomaly for Van Halen records. It's also a tad overrated by VH fans, in my opinion. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy it - listened to it in all its thirty-one-minute glory just yesterday as a matter of fact - but there's a certain type of VH fan who carries on and on about how it's their Sgt. Pepper's or something. It isn't. It's not bad, but it's not their best album. (Of the DLR era, that'd either be 1984 or the first one or Women and Children First. Fight me.) 

My old band did a song called "Saturday Afternoon in the Park" which was about what happens in that park (wait for it) the day before. (Spoiler alert: just a bunch of nonsense.) The song's not at that link, just while we're here.




5.
"Jump"

Here's another one people might be sick of, I don't know. You have to include it, though, or the Van Halen Police will come take you away.

A well-deserved classic of both rock radio and the 80s. It's a breath of mental fresh air. I still crack up at some of DLR's frontman-tourette's, like when he says "AAAA-OOH! (Who said that?) Baby, how you been..." My old band (again!) had a song called "Rock Balls," where I did my best DLR impression during the chorus, just call-and-response-ing random nonsense. Sammy does a good impersonation (maybe even a better one) of this approach on "Source of Infection" later in the band's career.

Another one of those I like: from DLR's "Just a Gigolo" where he's yelling all of that indecipherable gibberish at the end and the band is singing it back at him. "Loop de loo! (loop de loo!) Gottazeewash! (gottazeewash!) Over there! (over there!") Man, that "over there!" cracks me up, like he's directing the band's attention to something happening in the studio or something. 

Anyway, might as well jump.


4.
"Panama"

I thought this one would be number one, prior to ranking these. I've always referred to it as my favorite VH tune. How about that? The covid has taught me something new. 

Anyone who came of age in the MTV era has indelible memories of not just this tune but probably any of their videos from 1984 or Dave's solo stuff. It was just such a part of the cable-television-oxygen back in the day.



What a great tune, though. Some of my favorite rock guitar ever in this tune. As well as in:


3.
"Ice Cream Man"

This tends to be most people I talk to's favorite VH song. Easy to see why. Fun stuff, very sing-along-y, and that freakin' roller-coaster-picking-you-up-and-sweeping-along effect of Eddie's guitar once it breaks in. The band, in some respects, peaked early: never sounded better than on this track. Unless it's:


2.
"Hot for the Teacher"

To quote Dave from near the song's ending "Oh My God....!"

I do love "Ice Cream Man," don't get me wrong. But I feel the "Van Halen"ness of that one is surpassed ever so slightly by the VH-ness of this one. Alex and Eddie mesh together in this one better than just about anywhere in their catalog (and when they mesh, it always rocks) and DLR's David-Lee-Roth-ness is appropriately sleazy. 

In many ways I don't think I've ever gotten over the first time this song really clicked for me. I've liked it from the first - who wouldn't? - but there was a time in the early 90s when I heard it at the right party, I guess, or under the right mix of party accouterments, and that break back into the riff after the first verse hit my head like an electrical storm. Is anything cooler than that? Holy moley. To quote the later singer for the band, it gives me some of that unh-huh unh-HNNNNH-unh! Which is the VH equivalent of "je ne sais quoi" I guess.


1.
"Everybody Wants Some"

And here we go. Like I said, the emergence of this one as my favorite VH song has been something of a surprise, but not really: I've always loved it. This is one of those I cannot simply listen to at a normal volume, as my family has discovered everytime it's been on. Which lately has been a lot. 



Anyone who first heard it - and I'm one of them - in Better Off Dead probably has visions of hamburgers playing metal guitar and John Cusack as some kind of mad scientist (a scene which, according to some, forever split Cusack from Savage Steve Holland, despite their collaborating again on One Crazy Summer). Understandable, but now I've got a new association: mainly my son's crazy dancing when he hears it. Rock and roll - as I mentioned when covering "Best of Both Worlds" from the Van Hagar post - affects him very deeply. ("Like Chris Farley on cocaine," says his mother. And she's very accurately describing the scene in our kitchen from a few nights ago, watching him whirl around.) It's tough to describe except it involves headbanging, holding up both hands in V-salutes, twirling around, spinning himself around on the floor, etc. 

So, I have a new reason to love it, above, but beyond that, holy crap, this song would be a more enlightened America's theme song. I don't know what it is, even, but I want it when I hear it, and I want to punch a damn communist in the face to get it, and to make sure everyone can get it. A good test of someone's economic literacy is to play this and see if they feel compelled to Marxist word salad. If so, keep cranking it until you can't hear them anymore or drive them back to Ho Chi Minh City. 

Was this one of the songs they blasted at the embassy to drive Noriega out, now that I think about? Or to get Revolutionary Guard officers to spill their secrets? It should've been. Every enemy (or in the case of Noriega, re-captured asset) of America will fall before "Everybody Wants Some." In a perfect world, it would be screamed from the rooftops to let the heavens know the afterworld has received another present from Uncle Sam. 


All right, maybe not! Your mileage may vary. One thing that does not: the perfection of this song. In whatever Voyager aircraft we send to the stars that exclusively showcases the hair metal of our third rock from the sun, this one should be cranked above all others. 


~

I think that might be all I have to say on this topic. I don't see one of these materializing for the Gary Cherone era. Keep on rockin' in the free world, my friends; don't let the bastards grind you down.