Episode Report Card Jacob Clifton: A+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT The Prime of Miss Nat Newman
By Jacob Clifton | Season 6 | Episode 5 | Aired on 09.20.2010
Meanwhile, Cesar is carving his wife's initials into a tree, which sort of bothers Ignacio because he loves kitties and birdies and trees, but advantage Cesar: "I carved our names on our first date, and I do it still." Everything he says is amazing, there's just something about him that I admire. Meanwhile Ignacio's all, "I once loved a girl from the neighborhood named Rosa Galindo. I carved her name, too. Into Manuel Gonzalez's thigh." You can always see what Shane saw in him. They decide to kill him already, as he continues to babble and dig, and when he starts screaming in prayer they call him a waster. Finally, God steps in: OnStar, calling for Mr. Shane Botwin. God's got a sick sense of humor if he'd rather have Doug around over... Well, anybody. Pilar Zuazo.
Nancy comes to Andy at the bust stop with a sad little McDonald's latte and Andy, even though he said he didn't want anything, starts to whinin'. "You could have got me something. A fish sandwich of contrition? Penance fries? An I'm Sorry I Ruined Your New Career McMuffin?" Nancy, having already had a shitty day and now about to take a bag of drugs onto the muni bus, decides to start a little shit. She points out that, history being our guide, Andy would have fucked up with Chef Stormare in a week anyway, which shocks him as usual, in this way like she's leveling with him, like, we both know this, come on, we're all adults here: "You don't actually want what you can have. That's why you want me. Because you can't have me." It is vicious and it can only lead to fucked-up wonderful places.
Meanwhile, Angela Chase's dream teacher sits on a backward-turned chair with two buttons buttoned and a silver magnet bracelet and says some collegiate bullshit that you gotta hear him say to understand how spot-on it is. "None of you give a shit. Not really. And I get it. Why learn about the world when within seven seconds of opening your MacBook you could be in a photo-realistic grenade battle with an 8-year-old in Saginaw, or watching underaged Hungarian gangbang videos? But let's make a deal. One hour twice a week, we're gonna be engaged. Fight me. Call me a liberal elitist latte-sipping socialist scumbag. Just care about something. Because when you're done whatevering your life away, the world will absolutely blow your fucking minds."
Because he has never seen a dorky teacher embrace the cliché like this, because he never went to college and thus never met the freshcrawling 8/10 of all teachers who embrace the cliché like this, Silas about pees. He and the vajazzled girl hold hands and little beams of Jesus come rocketing out of their skulls because eventually the prime of Miss Jean Brodie comes to us all and this is where essentially all fascism comes from. "Let's begin," says the teacher, and frankly I've never been so happy to get out of a scene in my life. Ugh. I mean, everything that he said was good, sure, but it was also like karaoke to hear out loud. Like watching somebody take off their skin and turn it inside out and then pretend there's nothing weird going on.