Six Feet Under
Out, Out, Brief Candle

Episode Report Card
admin: B- | Grade It Now!
Dead Man Running

So, yeah. It seems I owe the lovely Lauren Ambrose something of an apology. Now, to be fair, she actually also owes me one as well (two, in fact), but we'll get to that later in the recap. My point here is that I myself have been the subject of several (sadly non-silken) stalkings these past few days, and I'm beginning to see what life is like on the other end of the looking glass. Forgive me, Lauren. See, I always thought people knew this whole thing was just a big joke, but judging from the email I get, there's a significant number of you out there who really think I spend my free time lurking in the bushes outside her house or something. Which is stupid, and not just because the cheapness and easily availability of that X-10 spy camera makes actual physical lurking totally passé. Anyway, this whole experience has taught me two very valuable lessons: 1) No one deserves to live in fear, and 2) Mike Binder is STILL the most obnoxious, offensive, unfunny "comedian" in all of recorded history.

Mike Binder: Hey! I've got feelings too, you know.
Alan Ball: I don't think he cares.
Aaron: He's right. I don't care.
Mike Binder: Fine, but can you at least give me a clue as to what it was I said that pissed you off so much?
Aaron: Yeah. It's EVERYTHING you said.
Alan Ball: Ew. I'd forgotten about that Three Stooges thing.

As I type these very words, the University of Pittsburgh basketball team is demolishing Central Connecticut State in the NCAA tournament. So how does Master of Temporal Continuity Alan Ball elect to open his show? At a college football practice. I guess this is what we should expect from a show that gave us Christmas in August last year, Christmas in March this year, and a three-year-old with an E-Z Bake oven. Oh, well. At least HBO gets credit for running a timely Mathew St. Patrick interview this week. Anyway, the coach makes all the players do some big running drill, and we all know what happened to Korey Stringer, right? As the boys run back and forth, Alan Ball sneaks in some quick commentary about homophobia in organized sports by having The Potentially Dead White Guy call The Potentially Dead Black Guy a "faggot." There's some more quasi-competitive banter, but as soon as the drill is complete, Potentially Dead White Guy suddenly keels over and draws the attention of the medical staff and all his teammates. Of course, since no Six Feet Under show opener can be without a clever gimmick, this week's writer Laurence Andries now offers up his own commentary about racism in organized sports as Potentially Dead Black Guy stumbles into the foreground and dies absolutely unnoticed amongst the furor over the Fighting Whitey behind him. Farewell, Joshua Peter Langmead. The Bruins could have used you.

Fade up at Brenda's Brotherfucking Boudoir, where a shirtless and hirsute Peter Krause has joined Brenda in the kitchen. While he pulls on a t-shirt so that I'm no longer forced to avert my eyes, she flips through a magazine and freaks out about trying to decide what to serve at a dinner party celebrating the return of her mythic ex-boyfriend Trevor. When Nate points out that serving caviar in addition to foie gras and smoked salmon might make it look like she's trying too hard to impress, Brenda fills us in on the backstory so we know why she cares. Trevor was "a big part of [her] life once," his wife has since "won a fucking National Book Award," and it was Trevor's "masterly touch that ushered [Brenda] into womanhood." She also claims to no longer be depressed, and points out gleefully that she takes Nate completely for granted. And really, don't we all? Anyway, Nate doesn't seem too concerned, although he does threaten to go "all alpha-dog" and "kick [Trevor's] ass. Fucking Trevor. Fucking Trevor." Due to limitations in recap sound technology, you'll just have to imagine Nate employing his world-renowned HAL 9000 voice on that last "Fucking Trevor" part.

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Six Feet Under




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