"I need something classy, like the opening of a car dealership." "Like Mr. Peanut!"
The Office 5.18 - "New Boss"
For me, some of the most awkard and terrifying moments of this show come when functional people who are actually concerned with running a business interact with the office. And this episode made me realize that the office, and Michael in particular, hasn't had someone like that supervising them in some time. I fear for Charles Minor. His predecessors were Jan and Ryan. Doomed Y/N? What's even more hilarious and sad is that David Wallace obviously wanted to put a layer of insulation between himself and Michael Scott. And as Michael's increasingly frantic and nonsensical phone calls over the course of the episode showed, he had reasons for wanting that insulation. But Michael was also right, in his own self-absorbed way, that after 15 years, he shouldn't have to drive to New York to talk to upper management. There are many reasons why that's true, most of them involving Michael's own behavior, but David Wallace was the guy who backhandedly stood up for him during the lawsuit deposition, the one who'd always been fair to him, and this was a big betrayal for Michael. Pam was right to be concerned that he'd skipped the Ace Ventura routine; he was that upset. He was upset enough to quit, not just a job, but his family. I don't expect it to last--in fact, I expect it to last only as long as it takes the rest of the office to drive Charles Minor screaming from the building, a la all of the functional employees who were originally transferred from the Stamford branch--but I'll be interested to see what it takes to bring him back. Because, as the lunacy with the golden tickets recently demonstrated, Michael is an idiot savent of a salesman, and in his own freakish way, he earned that job.
Random things I loved:
* * * * *
TSCC 2.19 - "Last Voyage of the Jimmy Carter"
So humans, individuals, are irreplaceable, but they're also difficult. They need to know the reason for their orders; they don't obey blindly. If given the chance, they will open the (Pandora's) box. Queeg didn't understand that, but Catherine Weaver does, which is why she has systems in place to handle deviations from her plan.
It's never clearer that the John Connor of the future has isolated himself from other people behind a wall of machines than when Jessie asks to see him to relay a message, and Cameron tells her that telling Cameron is the same thing. And if that's really true, as Jessie points out, what are they fighting for? Future John Connor asked the machines (or some faction of the machines) if they'd join him, and they said no. That all points to someone who is guarding against human frailty and unpredictability, in his own way, as Catherine Weaver is.
There continue to be strong parallels between Jessie's story and Cameron's. Jessie starts out the good soldier, following orders, until she sees things that make her question John Connor's closeness to the machines. She has to remind Cameron, in the future, that they didn't just lose a sub and a box; they also lost people. She has to find out that she also lost something: a pregnancy. So what does she do? She hardens herself; she finds a likely girl in the tunnels; she starts laying her plans.
But Cameron, the machine, didn't cooperate. She'd figured out that John got something from Riley, that she wasn't just a danger. Jessie had to kill Riley instead. And it was for nothing, because people aren't chess pieces; they don't just follow the script. I'm going to have to rewatch the Riley episodes in this season again, knowing that John figured it all out at some point, that he knew that relationship was built on lies and he wanted it anyway, maybe figuring it was as close as he'd ever get.
And then Sarah does something she hasn't done before. She comes to Cameron and asks her to think about not only why John sent her back, but why he sent her away from him in the future, and to think about why Sarah doesn't want her around. She's not telling Cameron to leave; Cameron has never obeyed her orders. She's giving her the reasons, the choices, the tools to make the right decisions--the exact thing Jessie insisted the sub crew needed in order to do its job, the thing that might have prevented the mutiny (and Queeg's name certainly was a hint of how that was all going to go down).
Derek tells John, "We rise and fall on your shoulders. Humanity rises and falls on your shoulders." It's a terrible burden, to be the leader, to be the most irreplaceable of them all. But what John thinks of as mistakes, Derek calls being human, and the more we learn about Future John Connor, the more it seems that people really are watching him for signs to confirm his humanity, because it's so hard to see. I'm not sure if Derek shot Jessie, though based on what he did with Andy, I'm sure he was capable of it--he has his own hardness. He understands that he has these dual relationships with people in the past and future who are both like and unlike the people he knew in his past and future. This John, now, let her go. The guilt was its own punishment, both for Jessie and for him; he's not interested in revenge. But what Derek seems to me to be saying, when he says that "John Connor let her go," was that Future John Connor let her come back with Riley, knew that all of this was going to happen and didn't try to stop it. Which means that there must have been either something formative about that loss--that terrible breakdown, against Sarah, at last--or that there had been something formative about having that closeness with Riley, that connection to another person. And that means that Future John Connor is playing as many games with his own life as with everyone else's.
* * * * *
It's probably just as well that pre-made Captain Kirk chairs are so expensive, or I would probably get my father one for Christmas. And then my mother would kill me. And possibly him, if he tried to order her to do anything while sitting in it.
I actually think that for once, the article writer walked a nice line between respecting the obsession and acknowledging the absurdity of spending so much time and money building a Kirk chair; most of the interviewees seemed to be right there with him.
For me, some of the most awkard and terrifying moments of this show come when functional people who are actually concerned with running a business interact with the office. And this episode made me realize that the office, and Michael in particular, hasn't had someone like that supervising them in some time. I fear for Charles Minor. His predecessors were Jan and Ryan. Doomed Y/N? What's even more hilarious and sad is that David Wallace obviously wanted to put a layer of insulation between himself and Michael Scott. And as Michael's increasingly frantic and nonsensical phone calls over the course of the episode showed, he had reasons for wanting that insulation. But Michael was also right, in his own self-absorbed way, that after 15 years, he shouldn't have to drive to New York to talk to upper management. There are many reasons why that's true, most of them involving Michael's own behavior, but David Wallace was the guy who backhandedly stood up for him during the lawsuit deposition, the one who'd always been fair to him, and this was a big betrayal for Michael. Pam was right to be concerned that he'd skipped the Ace Ventura routine; he was that upset. He was upset enough to quit, not just a job, but his family. I don't expect it to last--in fact, I expect it to last only as long as it takes the rest of the office to drive Charles Minor screaming from the building, a la all of the functional employees who were originally transferred from the Stamford branch--but I'll be interested to see what it takes to bring him back. Because, as the lunacy with the golden tickets recently demonstrated, Michael is an idiot savent of a salesman, and in his own freakish way, he earned that job.
Random things I loved:
- I almost felt bad for Dwight losing the classy-off with Jim. But then Jim had to explain to Minor why he was wearing a tux, and of course, when he puts the office's weird in-jokes into words, it's awkard and sounds incredibly bizarre. And this was an ongoing problem for poor Jim, who, ironically, is one of the more functional and normal people there, but still has been working in that office for over five years, and speaks the native language, which does not translate well to outsiders.
- I also felt a little bad for Charles Minor, who was just trying to do his job, and had to deal with Michael Scott's absurd tantrums. And also communicate a bunch of bad news from corporate, because of course Michael wouldn't--because that may make people stop liking him. I really felt bad for him, though, when it became clear that Kelly and Angela are both after him. Dude, RUN.
- Phyllis totally took the opportunity to stick the knife into the backs of the new party planning committee, didn't see? Those grapes are sour.
* * * * *
TSCC 2.19 - "Last Voyage of the Jimmy Carter"
So humans, individuals, are irreplaceable, but they're also difficult. They need to know the reason for their orders; they don't obey blindly. If given the chance, they will open the (Pandora's) box. Queeg didn't understand that, but Catherine Weaver does, which is why she has systems in place to handle deviations from her plan.
It's never clearer that the John Connor of the future has isolated himself from other people behind a wall of machines than when Jessie asks to see him to relay a message, and Cameron tells her that telling Cameron is the same thing. And if that's really true, as Jessie points out, what are they fighting for? Future John Connor asked the machines (or some faction of the machines) if they'd join him, and they said no. That all points to someone who is guarding against human frailty and unpredictability, in his own way, as Catherine Weaver is.
There continue to be strong parallels between Jessie's story and Cameron's. Jessie starts out the good soldier, following orders, until she sees things that make her question John Connor's closeness to the machines. She has to remind Cameron, in the future, that they didn't just lose a sub and a box; they also lost people. She has to find out that she also lost something: a pregnancy. So what does she do? She hardens herself; she finds a likely girl in the tunnels; she starts laying her plans.
But Cameron, the machine, didn't cooperate. She'd figured out that John got something from Riley, that she wasn't just a danger. Jessie had to kill Riley instead. And it was for nothing, because people aren't chess pieces; they don't just follow the script. I'm going to have to rewatch the Riley episodes in this season again, knowing that John figured it all out at some point, that he knew that relationship was built on lies and he wanted it anyway, maybe figuring it was as close as he'd ever get.
And then Sarah does something she hasn't done before. She comes to Cameron and asks her to think about not only why John sent her back, but why he sent her away from him in the future, and to think about why Sarah doesn't want her around. She's not telling Cameron to leave; Cameron has never obeyed her orders. She's giving her the reasons, the choices, the tools to make the right decisions--the exact thing Jessie insisted the sub crew needed in order to do its job, the thing that might have prevented the mutiny (and Queeg's name certainly was a hint of how that was all going to go down).
Derek tells John, "We rise and fall on your shoulders. Humanity rises and falls on your shoulders." It's a terrible burden, to be the leader, to be the most irreplaceable of them all. But what John thinks of as mistakes, Derek calls being human, and the more we learn about Future John Connor, the more it seems that people really are watching him for signs to confirm his humanity, because it's so hard to see. I'm not sure if Derek shot Jessie, though based on what he did with Andy, I'm sure he was capable of it--he has his own hardness. He understands that he has these dual relationships with people in the past and future who are both like and unlike the people he knew in his past and future. This John, now, let her go. The guilt was its own punishment, both for Jessie and for him; he's not interested in revenge. But what Derek seems to me to be saying, when he says that "John Connor let her go," was that Future John Connor let her come back with Riley, knew that all of this was going to happen and didn't try to stop it. Which means that there must have been either something formative about that loss--that terrible breakdown, against Sarah, at last--or that there had been something formative about having that closeness with Riley, that connection to another person. And that means that Future John Connor is playing as many games with his own life as with everyone else's.
* * * * *
It's probably just as well that pre-made Captain Kirk chairs are so expensive, or I would probably get my father one for Christmas. And then my mother would kill me. And possibly him, if he tried to order her to do anything while sitting in it.
I actually think that for once, the article writer walked a nice line between respecting the obsession and acknowledging the absurdity of spending so much time and money building a Kirk chair; most of the interviewees seemed to be right there with him.