Episode Report Card Aaron: A | 1 USERS: A+ YOU GRADE IT Dead End
By Aaron | Season 2 | Episode 13 | Aired on 06.01.2002
Alan Ball: Well, as you know, men are the new women, so that makes sense.
Aaron: Good point.
Alan Ball: Amen.
In a move that surely sent shivers down the spine of anyone who's never watched television before, this week's episode fades up on a foreboding brain shot of a sleeping Nate. I guess we're supposed to think he's going to die or something, but I'm more interested in trying to figure out why AOL Time Warner passed on the blatant meta-synergistic opportunity here to simultaneously promote both their buddies over at Apple and also the upcoming crop-circle flick Signs by shearing a giant Macintosh logo into the gently waving grassy expanse of chest hair that his blankets have left so tantalizingly uncovered. Meanwhile, the rest of the family is downstairs at breakfast, checking out photos of Baby Maya The Leviathan and wondering aloud if vegans breastfeed. There's some general discussion of Nate's childhood tendencies towards constant farting (not to mention David's relative "peep"-lessness), and my overwhelming desire to stab the fast-forward button to rid myself of that particularly noxious mental image is abated only by the lovely Lauren Ambrose, who complains that "no one ever remembers anything about Claire. I'm starting to think I just walked in off the street." "That's not true, dear," replies Ruth, before suddenly remembering that her only daughter's high school graduation is but a few days away. Oh, and speaking of just walking in off the street (or wherever the hell it is he sleeps when he's not at Brenda's), here comes Nate, who barely stops to get a cup of coffee before snatching the pictures of his child out of his mother's hands. David is shocked to learn that it's the first time Nate has even seen his daughter, and Nate is equally shocked to learn that Ruth has been spending so much time with her. The discovery prompts him to storm out of the house, while Ruth gathers her strength for a final blurt about her intention to remain a part of Maya's life.
Cut to Nate, as he heads out on the highway, and gets his motor(cycle) running. It's clear he's looking for temptation, or whatever comes his way. And while you'd think the bike would make him look cool, he's actually wearing a pair of Bono's sunglasses and what appears to be a vintage World War I German Kaiser helmet, so you'd be SO wrong about that. You'd also think that with all the swerving and skidding he's doing that we'd still be afraid he might die, but as there's nary a bus in sight and I've already spoiled who dies here anyway, you'd be wrong about that, too. Eventually he arrives at the hospital, where he finds a pale and gasping Aaron on the edge of death. "Go away," I whisper, before hacking a load of phlegm out onto my chin. Ew. Although if nothing else, it is good to know that I'll be bitter and coughing right to very end. After all, that is pretty much how I've always imagined it would be. Flick. Ahhhh. Somehow divining that my time is near, Nate grasps me tenderly in his arms, thrusting a perfectly triangular sideburn into my face as he softly implores me to "just let it all go." Sadly, I'm not able to do that, complaining that there's "no fucking light," and proving once and for all that even when death is imminent, there's always time to say a few "fucks." Still locked in our touching embrace, Nate tearfully repeats, "It's okay. It's okay. It's okay," over and over again, and we fade to white on a wide shot of my lifeless, slack-jawed body.
Wow. Recapping my own death was even weirder than I thought it would be. And yeah, I know there are some of you out there who think this guy may be a shout-out to Sorkin, and with this show's obvious affinity for satirizing the former crappy bosses of Alan Ball, it's certainly conceivable that Rick Cleveland could be engaging in a bit of a morbid mind-fuck here. But really, people. His name is Aaron BUCHBINDER. I mean, you change that last initial to an "F", and you've pretty much got my motto in life (not to mention Alan Ball's favorite word). So farewell, Aaron Fuckbinder. May heaven be the only happy ending you ever need know again.