Confession time: even though I recap The X-Files, this is the first time I've watched The Lone Gunmen. Not because I'm boycotting any and all Chris Carter efforts not called The X-Files, and certainly not because I'm spending these four sweet X-Files-free Sundays dancing around my living room, kissing my Mulder and Scully action figures, and making up little songs about how free the three of us suddenly feel -- free, I tell you, free! -- but, rather because, dude, The Sopranos. Thank God for Alex Richmond's awesome recaps, or I'd have no clue who any of these chuckleheads are. Anyway. To the chuckleheads.
God, will I never escape the dreaded voice-over? Guess not. Cue "Battle Hymn of the Republic." Cue newsreel footage of various important historical events: JFK waving from the back of a motorcade, Teddy Roosevelt shaking hands with the great unwashed, the moon landing, Winston Churchhill. Cue Jimmy Bond voice-over: "Heroes. Once in a great while, they come along when we need them the most. Like President Churchill [sic], who won World War II, and Gandhi, peaceful leader of the Indians. Or, as we know them, Native Americans [sic!]. The thing about heroes is you can just never tell where the next crop is gonna come from. And you don't always recognize them at first sight." Fade to an elementary-school classroom in Sterling, Virginia, 1976. All the kids are getting up in front of the class and sharing what they want to be when they grow up -- and they all want to be "rich and famous." Except one (very cute) kid in a corduroy suit, who desires above all else to become "a career bureaucrat for the U.S. government" and help lots and lots of people and spread democracy all over America! Name that Gunman: John Fitzgerald Byers. "Idealist."
Saltville, Nebraska, 1982. A doofy blond kid with glasses is furiously typing on his computer. Let's just pretend that a kid in 1982 would (a) have his own computer or (b) be able to lug it all the way out to the barn, since it probably weighed sixty pounds, or (c) had a freaking power source in the barn with which to run the freaking computer. His dad swings around the corner and hee-haws that "typing is for secretaries." And for writers, dumb-ass -- I type eighty words a minute, and let me tell you, it is one useful skill. The kid stands and predicts that computers will change the world, and also that, by the year 2000, we'll "all eat food pills like on Star Trek, and we won't need cows anymore." Name that Gunman: Richard "Ringo" Langly. (Ringo?) "Computer God."