“ Radio transmissions are a 'no go' due to the blast, according to this week's handsome black agent who's not dead yet. Jeez, I could have told Kiefer that. Didn't he see The Day After on ABC? ”
In times like these, we all need a hero. Yeah, sing it, Pearl Jam...I mean, Creed. 24 has returned. An all-new episode starts now. Electric blue Kiefer. Electric blue Spawn. Electric blue Palmer. Nice of them to acknowledge the other cast members one more time. I guess Fox is getting cocky about the new ratings and assumes that we're all on board, because there's no Kiefer intro speech this week about this being the longest day of his life, despite our three-week hiatus.
Previouslys. The B-O-M-B must be flown and detonated over the Mojave Desert. Kiefer volunteers to fly the plane for what is essentially a suicide mission. Palmer takes Air Force One to Los Angeles. A Fauxraqistani intelligence liaison shows up at CTU and immediately starts clashing with Soul Patch. A recording is found in Syed Ali's apartment that links the B-O-M-B to "three Middle Eastern countries." Spawn finally gets a hold of Kiefer by phone, only to find out that her father is going to die. Mason sneaks aboard Flight 86 and relieves us of a Kiefer-free show. Holy shiitake! It's a mushroom cloud!
Mojave Desert. The mushroom cloud is still abloom. I've always thought that mushroom clouds were really pretty -- despite the fact that they're caused by the mega-deadly explosion of a nuclear warhead -- and this one is no exception. It's all saturated red and gold like a Maxfield Parrish landscape or an old Rheingold beer ad. At CTU, the agents watch the explosion on a variety of video screens. Soul Patch is dumbfounded. Lesbo-Carrie is dreaming of all the sweet pussy she's going to get from all the terrified women of Los Angeles. Meanwhile, on Air Force One, Palmer sits with PoorMan'sHumeCronyn and watches the explosion from the air in his private cabin. Through his window, it just looks like a sunrise. He's fascinated and yet terrified by the sight of it. A grief-stricken Rolaide enters his cabin and studies his reaction. From the highway, Spawn cries over what she thinks is the death of her father as she watches the mushroom cloud that took him looming over the mountains. A sad piano theme plays as she turns away and sits down on the curb. "Daddy!" she cries, running her fingers through her hair and giving us a nice long look at her immaculate manicure. An electrically generated boy's choir sings in the background.
A flare is lit. And then another. And another. It's Kiefer on the ground, signaling for a CTU chopper to bring him back to CTU. Trumpets announce the arrival of a chopper that lands amidst the smoky blue and orange flames streaming from the burning flares. Kiefer climbs aboard and asks the handsome black agent to get in touch with Soul Patch and tell him that he made it. He needs Soul Patch to relay the news to Spawn that he's still alive. But alas, radio transmissions are a "no go" due to the blast, according to this week's handsome black agent who's not dead yet. Jeez, I could have told Kiefer that. Didn't he see The Day After on ABC?
Day 2: 11:00 PM -- 12:00 AM
“ It would be like if I decided I wanted the thirty-two-inch waist I had in college, and instead of dieting and exercising or even purging and liposuction, I just took a pair of jeans that I normally wear and wrote in '32' on the label, or bought a pair of real 32" jeans and fastened them with a belt at my knees and hopped around all day. ”
Back at CTU, Soul Patch gathers the agents around him for yet another heartwarming speech to pay respect to Mason and pass along Mason's posthumous thanks for all their hard work that "day." And, like the speech he gave to the staff a little over an "hour" ago, he winds up by urging everyone to get back to work. Jeez, I mean, the B-O-M-B is no longer an urgent issue. Can't they all just sit down and order in some Chinese for fifteen friggin' minutes now that L.A. isn't going to blow up? Soul Patch wants everyone to turn their attention to the recording made in Cyprus that confirms that Fauxraqistan, Akalakistan, and Tofurkey (tm Jjayelle) hired Syed Ali to plant the B-O-M-B. According to Soul Patch, the verification of the tape is a big priority, since Palmer wants to consider a military response right then and there. Okay, this is my primary beef with this season. The whole artistic point of 24 -- at least as I see it -- has been to show that a lot can happen in a twenty-four-hour period: families can fall apart, people's perspectives can change on their entire lives, and conflicts can emerge that destroy lives, et cetera. Now, I realize that "reality" -- whatever that is -- may have to be jimmied with a little in order to bring such a "day" to life. However, this season, as opposed to last season, feels like they've just taken a bunch of events that would normally occur over a series of weeks or even months and crammed them all together in order to fit into a fictional twenty-four-hour period. So instead of zeroing in on a day and the amount of drama that can unfold therein, the writers are just overstuffing a normal day full of unlikely activity. It would be like if I decided I wanted the thirty-two-inch waist I had in college, and instead of dieting and exercising or even purging and liposuction, I just took a pair of jeans that I normally wear and wrote in "32" on the label, or bought a pair of real 32" jeans and fastened them with a belt at my knees and hopped around all day. It's not like I'm fooling anyone. There's just no way -- even in the hyperbolic 24-verse -- that the U.S., led by a Democratic president, would go to war within hours of a terrorist attack...a failed terrorist attack at that.
And to make things even worse, there just happens to be a real live war going on right now that we can't help but compare this show to. Even the invasion of Afghanistan -- our country's first response to 9/11 under the leadership of an arch-conservative -- took several weeks to begin. Wars don't generally happen just because a country is strong enough and angry enough to wage them. There are lots of other parties (countries, coalitions, and so on) to consult with. Air space needs to be authorized, and alliances need to be forged with other governments. Even this war with Iraq, which we're essentially going into alone, took almost two years to get going.
Anyway, Soul Patch wraps it up, and PoorMan'sArmandAssante, who has been listening, approaches him and complains that he's got to report back to his office, but he has nothing to report since no one is keeping him in the loop. "I'll tell you what I can when I can," says a defiant Soul Patch. PMAA reminds Soul Patch that his fictional country allowed the CIA to raid Ali's apartment as long as they let PMAA participate in the ensuing investigation. Soul Patch tells PMAA to call his office and tell them whatever he wants. "We've got work to do here," says Soul Patch. "And you're simply not authorized to be a part of it." The two men make challenging eye contact. PMAA is the first to break it. He slinks back to wherever it is that CTU guests cool their heels and read magazines. "He doesn't look too happy," says Lesbo-Carrie, who, meanwhile, has walked over to help Soul Patch intimidate PMAA visually with her swaggering posture and her man-tailored suit. They head over to the audio lab.
“ 'What does the truth matter when you have this... recording?' asks Syed, whose accent is starting to sound more Julio Iglesias than Omar Sharif. ”
Lesbo-Carrie asks where Bitchelle is, since she was not in attendance when Soul Patch addressed the office. Soul Patch explains that she's interrogating Syed Ali. "Why?" asks Lesbo-Carrie. Soul Patch explains that Bitchelle might be able to get some valuable information out of Syed Ali about the recording. He asks LC to go and start verifying the tape without him. LC does just that. Soul Patch stays behind to study PoorMan'sArmandAssante's every move in a non-homoerotic manner.
Meanwhile, in one of the interrogation rooms, Syed Ali sits chained to an Emeco Naval chair while Bitchelle, wearing a form-fitting plum v-neck sweater, plays him the tape recording from Cyprus. Hell, I could have told you the tape was faked. It's full of obvious dialogue like, "Akalakalakalak you will receive the funds and the bomb through the channels we discussed jihad jihad we will change the world." Nevertheless, Bitchelle pulls out some 8x10s of some officials of "three Arab countries" and is all, "This tape proves that you conspired with these men to detonate a B-O-M-B on U.S. soil." Well, technically, Bitchelle, they conspired to detonate it in the air, but we get your overall point. Syed Ali, who is wearing the most painful-looking broken nose prosthetic I have ever seen, glares at her silently as she asks who else participated in the meeting in question. Seriously, he looks like Rossy De Palma and Rocky Balboa had a love child who went to Michael Jackson's plastic surgeon a few too many times. Oh, and he's also got one of those teeny tiny butterfly bandages on his face which is otherwise covered with open sores. It's like the bandage isn't really doing anything medically; it's just there as a signifier. Bitchelle informs Syed that if he refuses to speak to her, he'll have to speak to the interrogators at Guantanamo Bay. Is that supposed to be a threat? I myself have always wanted to see Cuba, and it sounds like they're offering him a free trip. Okay, Gustave, if you don't talk, we're going to ask you again...over a glass of wine in a restaurant in Barcelona!! Okay, okay, I realize that Guantanamo Bay isn't the same as, say, Havana, but I'm so hard up for sunshine right now, I'm even looking longingly at those Iraqi sandstorms on CNN. Syed asks her what she wants him to say. Bitchelle maintains that she just wants the truth. "What does the truth matter when you have this...recording?" asks Syed, whose accent is starting to sound more Julio Iglesias than Omar Sharif. Bitchelle asks him what he means. Julio Ali maintains that no such meeting ever took place. He was in Berlin at the time. Bitchelle isn't buying, and basically decides to hand him over to the professionals at Guantanamo. "Why would I lie to you when I told you the truth about the B-O-M-B?" asks Syed. Um, because back then, they were about to kill your kid? Bitchelle accuses him of trying to protect his country. Syed insists that the Second Wave was acting alone and that he has never met those officials.