Tony says that just because the situation may be difficult doesn't mean he has the right to be a sassafras. Melfi says AJ has stumbled upon existentialism. Eureka, Melfi! We all knew that twenty minutes ago. Tony blames the internet for existentialism -- hee hee. Melfi launches into a long-winded explanation of European philosophy. It goes something like chatter chatter World War II, blah blah disillusionment, blabber blabber weight of the horrors, ramble ramble no absolute truths. Tony asks if she believes in what she just described. "In your family? Even motherhood is up for debate," she replies. "I teach him to love and respect and appreciate his mother," to which she asks, "What about your mother?" Tony sighs. Melfi whines that they need to talk about Livia and what she did. "She showed her true colors, that's all." He looks like he might cry, puke, or smack Melfi. She should sit back, because none of those are going to be very pretty. She asks if AJ has heard him say "she's dead to me" in reference to Livia, and that hearing that could have lead AJ to embrace these philosophical ideas. Tony's all defensive, and Melfi goes on loving the sound of her own voice. It's something like blah you realize you're solely responsible for your actions and decisions, blah blah death is at the end of every road, blah blah blah feelings of intense dread. She even defines intense dread for Tony: "A dull, aching anger that leads them to conclude that the only absolute truth is death." Beat. "I think the kid's onto something," Tony admits. Oh, jeez. Depression can be hereditary. So watch out, Pugsley, you're in for a bumpy ride.
Amy and Christopher on the set of Favreau's movie, which looks like the Sixth Avenue basketball courts in the West Village. Amy's having way too much fun with her headset and saying thing's like "we're ready to roll." Christopher's all in love with the scene. "Holy shit, that's a, she was in Kings of Comedy, and the other one too, I seen her, in that movie my girlfriend likes with Uma what's her name." He has such a way with words. Christopher points at Sandra Bernhard and Janeane Garofalo, and Amy's cool as a "been there, done that" cucumber. She introduces him to Jon Favreau, and he mistakes him for a reporter from Los Angeles Magazine. Amy corrects him, and he apologizes, saying a guy from LA Magazine was supposed to come and do a story on his favorite place for breakfast, isn't it all so lame, hardy har har. Disclaimer: Jon Favreau is the shit. Unfortunately, he plays himself as a complete jerk-off in Hawaiian printed shirts in this episode, which also makes him the shit because he's not all concerned with maintaining a pristine image. He's got balls, this guy. However, I may have to crack on him for the heinous things he does in this episode. I just want to say that my love for Jon remains unscathed and pure. That is all.