Indeed, cut to Lauren lambasting the shriveled old Jew. "I have to keep control of my classroom," he says. "I told you that the desegs would cause problems, Lauren, I told you all. They're not grateful for their education, they keep getting angry because of those long bus trips, and we don't have chapters on Rosa Parks." Okay, "desegs"? Excuse me? I don't think I need to comment further on that term. But I will. When does this show take place? I didn't know we were in a universe where Brown v. Board just happened last week. Also, all American History textbooks have chapters on the civil rights movement, unless they date back to the forties, and they tend to mention Rosa Parks. The problem is their bland gloss over all of history, not so much neglect of individual facets anymore. But whatever. Lauren says that, as the head of the social studies department, she can protect Lipschultz from those who think he's "out of step." "Ever since Helen died --" she says. But he cuts her off: "It's not that. It's the desegs. You can't blame everything on a dead wife." Oh, but blaming it on those pesky black folks makes a lot more sense, eh? Lauren breaks down the laundry list of Harvey's offenses: the bra thing; calling Madison a midget (Huh? Why on earth is that against the rules? Is he also not allowed to mention that President Taft was big and fat?); and the fact that he apparently forces his students to sing the national anthem. His use of the term "desegs" does not, for some reason, make the list. Harvey stands firm, and Lauren says, "Harvey, don't take advantage of my adoring you. I will do what's best for the school." Apparently, it's best if the students are led to believe that all of our founding fathers were tall when, in fact, some of them were short. Oh, the lies!
Once again, the hallway, where the director gets to steal shots from ER. Mr. Senate spots Marla Hendricks, and sees his chance to get out of dungeon duty. "Marla, hey, you're back," he says, mildly. Being a crazy insane maniac, she flips out: "What do you mean, back? You mean mentally back? You think I'm some cracker? I'm not a cracker." This makes no sense, because cracker does not, to my knowledge, mean crazy, and in fact, not to make any unfounded assumptions or anything, but Ms. Hendricks seems like the kind of person who might know what, as a derogatory term, the word "cracker" actually means. Senate doesn't bat an eye, and instead replies with nonsense: "Hey, I love crackers. And the best ones were meant to crumble." Guh? ("David, honey, are you coming to bed? I'm wearing nothing but crumbled-up crackers." "Uh -- I'll finish this scene later…") Anyhow, Mr. Senate wants Ms. Hendricks to take back the dungeon, and, surprise surprise, she is not eager to return to the students who drove her to the brink of suicide.