There’s a lot new grilling in the O.C. as the kickoff carnival of conflict began in earnest this week. I interrupt your waffles and cynicism to say I vow to make this the best year ever! Yayyyyyy! Ok, but I need all of your attention if we’re going to get it done. I’ve worked all summer compiling lists and making a notebook of god-knows-what while you were out, let’s see… getting drunk, exploring your sexuality and shooting people. Do you have any idea what it’s like to do all the work while the O.C. gets all the credit? DO YOU!?
Seth “My stomach is too Jewish for this ride”
How right you are, my little nerd. This past week on the O.C. was like the slow ratcheting up the incline of a roller coaster hinting at the sudden drop and twisty slide to follow. It’s enough to make even the most gentile of tummies turn.
So, Ryan and Marissa will be going to another school. I know this is supposed to be the big dramatic turn of events but I really don’t see what all the fuss is about. Summer, et al, can still hang out like always they just won’t attend classes at the same place. The future is not destroyed because their parents can afford to drop the kids in some other pool. I do love how Newport’s private education institutions adhere to strict ancient Talmudic law when dealing with women though. If a woman is attempted to be raped and fights back (insert event chain) the end result is some severe punishment for the female. Next time spread those legs and shut your mouth, bitch, because life if much harder for Trudy McPrudies.
There is a silver lining. With all the tuition the Cohens will save from Ryan’s expulsion they can now invest in some counseling and anger management classes for the poor boy. I mean it’s good they’ve outfitted him with designer wifebeaters and all but he’s obviously dealing with some possession and control issues. His efforts to defend Marissa’s honor really haven’t done her a lot of good. He should leave the crime fighting to the Brows. The 40-year-old virgin had it comin’ with his creepy repression and collar-and-cardigan fashion sense but Ryan’s default reflex to all problems – make fist! Punch! ARGHHHHHH! – isn’t serving him well when the gummy berry juice wares off.
There’s a lot of high school extra-curricular drama going on too and it’s a tad overwrought if you ask me. The interpersonal wars over the carnival harkens back to 90210 when Andrea was always after the big scoop like she was trading secrets with Deepthroat. You’re a high school journalist for Christ’s sake. Likewise, social committee chair is not the same thing as what Koffi Anan does, ok? On that note, Taylor, sweetie, we’re concerned. Pull back on the Ritalin. We all know you work very hard but, um, yeah…
Writers always set up good guys and bad guys. We’re supposed to applaud when the black hat wearing cowboys get run out of town by the white hats. But the O.C. made it like Summer was the new sheriff in town and I had trouble cheering for her. I know it was supposed to be a big ‘eat it bitch!’ moment when Summer commands the carnie folk but I’m not so sure justice was served. Taylor is a disturbed little droid, no doubt, but she kind of had a point with the payoff for hard work stuff. I guess I’m supposed to forget Summer is incompetent and generally worthless and cheer Taylor’s coup d'é•tastes like shit, ha ha moment but I just wasn’t going for it.
But even more sizzlin’ is whatever the hell is happening to Kirsten. Seriously, what on Earth is the Borg doing? Last week I called her that to make fun of the character that made Jerry Ryan famous before the nasty sex scandal with her husband but, no joke, she really is acting Borg-like. She’s up to no good with the crying and throwing back the jack (who keeps a flask in their robe anyway?) but her plotline is like a David Lynch movie right now. The ghost of alcoholic futures scares Ki Ki into a cabin retreat where she’s manipulated by a drinking, sobbing, insecure idiot that doesn’t want her to leave. Does the Borg have a Homosexual Agenda? If that’s the case, Sandy might not be so pissy if he knew what he could get to watch.
And finally, poor Jimbo. I’m sorry, were there no Italians available at the casting agency because they’re being a little inconsistent with their typecasting here. Pooper is supposed be this grand conniving manipulator but she’s strangely incapable of recognizing herself in Jimmy’s actions. (How Aristotelian) Nobody’s hotter than Kanye West right now so I don’t understand why they didn’t play his new song when Jimmy proposed. That could have been both sassy and ironic. That song doesn’t really make sense on Mtv any-damn-way. Why does Kanye just repeat the word ‘broke’? That doesn’t rhyme with ‘digger’, silly. [Man, I will bend over backwards to make back-to-back racially insensitive references. Badabing!]
So, I think this episode successfully brought us to the top of the roller coaster for this season and next week I’m really hoping for a little less suggestive tension and a little more plunges and loopdy-loops. There better be a reward for all this contrived anticipation. I want to be grabbing my chest like Caleb and gasping for air. On that note, a final thought: Air quality is sooo important. We breathe it!
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