CSI
Got Murder?

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Rage On, Diary!

They say that when somebody dies, a crow is there to escort their soul to heaven. But sometimes, something terrible happens and the soul can't move on until it's been to Las Vegas and had some $4.99 surf 'n' turf on the north end of the strip. Or maybe it heads out to the mountains surrounding Las Vegas. At least, that's the impression we're getting from the crow's-eye cam as it swoops toward its nest in the cool twilight. Sorry, y'all: no grown men wearing the leather pants and trying to deliver J. O'Barr lines with a straight face underneath the mime makeup. Instead, we get grown men in outdoors camouflage. None of them are wearing reflective safety vests, however, so they're not hunters; therefore, the next line, where a burly man with a crew cut says, "I think I've got a good shot!" doesn't quite set off the irony meter. The three birders snap pictures and get ornithologically geeky; the guy in the middle spots the crow -- excuse me, a raven -- and says, "Corvus corax!" His fellow birders pooh-pooh his find -- clearly, they're not up on their mythology and the raven's prominent role therein -- but things get a lot more interesting when they note that the bird has a human eyeball in its beak. Shocked into synchronicity, all three men put down their binoculars and long-range lenses in a fluid motion, so we can see them gape.

Cut to a shot of an intact human eyeball. The camera zooms back, and we see Gil giving the eyeball to the eyeball. He comments to Catherine, "Well, someone's missing a contact lens." The camera zooms back so we can see that Gil's standing on a ladder and peering into the nest; Catherine's on the other side of the ladder. We see that she's got the curly hair again -- either the hairdresser's determining how Catherine wears her hair via a roulette wheel, or this episode was shot during Catherine's curly period -- and a beret. Few women can work a beret; Catherine's one of them. Gil tells her, "Ravens, like eagles, have been known to travel thirty miles from roost to feeding ground." Catherine adds, "Thirty miles in every direction." I'd like to point out that neither party is mocking the other for their aviary esoterica; I guess the comments about the Discovery Channel are reserved exclusively for Nicky. Hmmph. Catherine does some quick math -- "pi-r-squared...that means we're looking at a 2800-mile search area." Gil responds to this display of mental calculation by breaking out the Poe: "Once upon a midnight dreary/While I pondered weak and weary/Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore --" Catherine cuts this Bartlett's moment short with, "We're up a tree and you're quoting Poe." It could be worse, Catherine. He could be reciting "Ulalume." Gil shows her what's what by paraphrasing the poem with, "Quoth the raven, only this and nothing more."

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