My patience with this show is already waning. I don't know if it's the annoying flip-flop they did with last Saturday's episode, which is now this Saturday's episode; the fact that I will have to recap two of these episodes in a week; or just that this show is really, really, REALLY taking the last train to Dullsville. I was willing to concede some interest in the premiere episode, but it's pretty much gone now. I'm not even interested in meeting you at the station, so I won't be there by 4:30 even IF you've made a reservation. Oh, no, no, no. But since the path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic herd, here is your recap.
Horatio Hornblawyer walks into the office past the big wall bearing the names of partners of the firm: "Crane, Constable, McNeil & Montero." What a happy coincidence that not only is Hannah Crane is the founder and senior partner of the firm, but her name also comes first alphabetically. That way we'll never know if she's truly a power-hungry, status-seeking, control freak. Nor will I ever care. All the other lawyers are sitting around drinking futuristic green power drinks in bottles emblazoned with Asian characters while watching potential clients talk to the receptionist. By purely superficial methods -- like one guy's lack of shoelaces or some cuts on another dude's face -- they try to guess who's in for what. My stars, they even bet on their guesses and call it "Waiting Room Bingo"! THOSE CALLOUS LAWYERS! Eh. Then callousness turns to complete I-don't-know-what -- cheese? Contrivance? Downright heavy-handed melodrama? Something like that. Anyway, Darwin the Dick checks out some woman who is clutching a shawl around her shoulders and looking uncomfortable. Darwin the Dick thinks she's there because she got written out of her father's will. Horatio takes one look at the woman in question and his face freezes, "Drop it," he orders. "Look at her face," Darwin the Dick continues. "She's mourning and angry all at the same time." "I said drop it!" Horatio rebarks. That tears it -- I do not like Ioan's hair at all. Taking in Horatio's extreme reaction, Hannah shrewdly determines that the woman is not there about a will. Horatio shakes his head wordlessly. Darwin the Dick wants to know what's going on. Hannah helpfully explains Horatio's telepathy: "Two years in Sex Crimes at the D.A.'s office, I'm guessing you learned how to read people there too, huh, Lukas?" Horatio nods. Hannah tells him that the case is his. Horatio would rather not. "No problem -- anyone else here successfully convict thirty-one sex offenders?" Hannah says, taking a mock look around the room. Of course, there's no one else with those stellar sex stats, so guess who gets to save the day again? Our man Horatio. Hannah tells him, "It wasn't a suggestion." Hey, lady, he only takes orders from Cpt. Pellew! Although, in now two consecutive episodes, Hannah has been good for two things: exposition of another character's background, and ordering him or her to do something. Last week, it was through Hannah's order that Khanita help out on Horatio's case that we learned Khanita was Genetically Perfect in Every Way, and now this. You know, I think the future is colorblind, because that navy blue suit with the salmon shirt and yellow tie? Well, it's making me feel a little bilious.
Horatio meets his clients and explains that rape is a criminal offense, so the D.A. really should be handling her case. We dance around the issue a bit before we learn that it might not be such a clear-cut case of rape, since the victim, Dr. Hill, was in Pasadena when she was raped, and the rapist was in Brentwood. Twenty miles away. Horatio is puzzled. I have to admit, this teaser got me and I spent the entire the commercial break trying to figure out what the hell this case would be about. Turns out it was creepier than even I figured, but that the creepiness didn't quite cut through the extensive vats of molten cheese that poured out of my VCR during the final scene.
Credits.
Horatio reveals his case to his firm-mates, and it's all about nano-technology. You can drink nanites and they migrate through your system, latch onto nerve endings -- tongue, eyes, belly button, etc. -- and then transmit your sensations right into someone else's brain. Everything you feel, that person feels. It was thus that the woman was raped. "Yeah, it's like on ESPN -- the halfbacks swallow the transmitters and people wear gizmos so they can feel what it's like to play football," Battorney Manuel adds. That sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen. I mean, if you aren't in professional training and your body is forced to take in physical sensations that a halfback is able to withstand? Pretty damn brutal. Although, I'm sure the "gizmos" come equipped with the disclaimer: "Before connecting yourself to Madden Halfback Hell 2029 or Feelin' Football for Fuckwits, please consult with an Emergency Medical Hologram." Horatio explains that Bob the Rapist is heavy with the cay-ash and can afford to get the last, best, top-o'-the-line raping nanites, which are currently only available to the disgustingly rich and grossly over-privileged. Bob the Rapist invited Dr. Sylvie Hill's fiancé out to a bar and spiked the fiancé's drink with the nanites. When Karl, the fiancé, had sex with the victim that night, Bob the Rapist felt everything. EVERYTHING. Ew. Man, that is pretty disturbing. Bob the Rapist was so pleased with his nano-jerkoff that he went to Sylvie's office the day and thanked her for the experience. Darwin the Dick shows his penis colors once again as he asks if they are really suing Bob the Rapist for doing the "five-knuckle shuffle." God, I just noticed that they have edamame pods in a dish at this "breakfast meeting." How...advanced of them. NOT! Personally, given how unappetizingly tough and hairy the pods are, I really don't get why they are served that way in all the trendy cafés. You don't eat them the way you do snow peas or haricots vert; like fava beans, you never eat the actual pod. I'd have thought that In The Future, they'd have a podder much in the same way we have juicers.
Horatio explains that the D.A. won't prosecute, but that Sylvie can sue in civil court. Darwin the Dick goes off again: "For what? Invasion of privacy? Trespassing, maybe, but unless the guy had a twenty-mile unit: no penetration, no rape." In an accent that is verging on a Brooklyn tone this week, Horatio says that since Bob the Rapist felt everything the fiancé felt, invasion of privacy and trespassing don't come close to describing what happened to Sylvie. Khanita points out that Horatio can actually win with trespassing or invasion of privacy charges. Darwin the Dick says it's "virtual rape." "And he should go to a virtual jail," Battorney Manuel yuks. Horatio gets steamed. He stands up (so we know how earnest in his steaminess he is) and says, "This [sic] fun for you people?" Battorney Manuel admits that he wouldn't want Bob the Rapist to marry his sister (so, just date her, then?), but argues that it wasn't rape. Horatio thinks it was the "ultimate rape, the perfect crime," since the rapist could've gotten away with it, but instead he chose to brag: "The point was to tell her, to see the look in her eyes. That's exactly what he gets off on. I know these guys [it's how he says "these guys" as "deeze gwuys" that convinces me Ioan's also been watching far too many Philip Marlowe movies lately], he'll do it again. Only time we won't be arguing whether it's rape -- we'll just be wishing we'd done something to stop 'im." Hannah gives a thoughtful mug.
Outside, Horatio explains to Khanita (who's wearing yet another sleeveless black top to show off her buffed and waxed arms) that the fiancé and Bob the Rapist happened to run into each other at a bar. They are casual acquaintances, who sniff butts in the same social circles: "Bob had one date with Sylvie a year ago -- all he talked about was how much money he makes, things he owns, total jerk. Sylvie wasn't interested. She got engaged to Karl about six months later." As Horatio starts to explain how Bob the Rapist "just happened" to have the nanites on him because he "set the whole thing up," Khanita interrupts that she hardly knows him. And that is relevant...when? Oh, right, the non-latent, asexual, tension-not between them. "You know me," says Horatio. And is that in the Biblical sense, honey? Khanita contradicts him and says that the boxing gloves (gestures to a corner) have his name on them; she says she thought they were just part of some "macho affectation." Why doesn't she still think that? Because they have his name on them? Somehow THAT makes them non-macho and non-affected? Clearly, In The Future, it is difficult to get your name embroidered on something unless Everlast actually has proof that you stepped inside a ring and danced around a bit. Horatio plays the part of the Proud but Shy Stander Upper of Tuff Stuff and says that the gloves aren't the affectation -- the boxing is. "So, you punch grown men?" Khanita asks. "Man. One fight, I punched one man," Horatio admits. Oh, he's CUTE! Khanita asks if he won. "A moral victory," Horatio smiles, embarrassed. So, you got your ass whipped? Or is that a clumsy parallel to the moral -- because it will only be in civil court -- victory you will win in this episode? Is it that I watch waaaaaay too much TV that I can see this shit coming, or is the show just that bad? Because I really have cut back on most of my viewing in the past two years.
Speaking of ironic segues (tm Strega), Darwin the Dick watches some television show projected onto the wall of his office. I think that would be sort of distracting, since you can see portions of the wall and beams through the projection. Battorney Manuel walks in just as some too-freckled, too-redheaded, Donny-Bonaduce-of-The-Future kid gives the same line over and over again. Darwin the Dick cracks up. Battorney Manuel notes that it's the second time the kid delivered the same line with the same close-up. "Third," some female face on Darwin the Dick's desktop console corrects. "It's called a running gag," explains D the D. Battorney Manuel thought it had to be a gag before it could "run." "The show's been on the 'net for five years, now -- I think they know what's funny," snarks D the D. Hm, shout-out? Battorney Manuel and D the D argue over who doesn't watch the show the most until D the D orders, "Tell him, Voxy." "This. Is. Billable. Time," the face on D the D's desktop computer drones. Oh, she's SUCH a Holly RIP-OFF from Red Dwarf! D the D just got hired by the star: "I'm watching TV for money." What a coinkiDINK, so am I! D the D, Battorney Manuel, and Voxy are still watching when Hannah saunters in, catches some flat lines, and laughs, "It's funny -- is this a new show?" "Mom, Dad, and Jerry has one hundred and twelve million viewers. The odds that none of the lawyers are regular viewers are --" Voxy starts to Spock, but Hannah interrupts her irritably to ask D the D why he's been hired by the child star. What are the odds that a computer of The Future was programmed to say numbers wrong? She said "one hundred and twelve," which is wrong unless you mean 100.12 because "and" mathematically implies a decimal. Yes, I'm a geek and so's my husband, but this is The Future and she's a fucking computer, so it SHOULD BE PRECISE, DAMMIT! D the D explains that the brat star wants to be emancipated from his parents. "On what grounds?" asks Battorney Manuel. "I don't know and I don't care -- we're repping a star. It's good for the firm," drawls D the D, playing with some blue ball on his desk. Yes, you read that correctly: he was "playing with some blue ball."
Khanita and Horatio meet with Sylvie and Karl. Horatio plays "Bad Robocop" as he mercilessly peppers Sylvie with personal and caustic questions about her sex life and her personal life with her fiancé in an effort to illustrate what it will be like for her to be on the stand. It turns out that Sylvie was unfaithful to Karl, but that's not really pertinent later and neither are the rest of Horatio's questions to anyone else who has ever watched a rape trial on television or, god forbid, been personally involved in one. After Sylvie gasps and sobs in reaction to Horatio's Scared Straight treatment, and after Horatio collapses on his desk, breathless that he had to get mean, Sylvie says she's ready to "get ready." I'm ready to "get drunk."
Is it really possible that someone connected with the SF Police Department has been arrested in connection with something called "Fajitagate?" Seriously? This city is so crazy.
Darwin the Dick walks onto a Hollywood television set past women in spangles and feathers (quick question: why are they ALWAYS in feathers on these sets? Broadway, sure. Vegas, definitely. But television-show sets? I want to recap the show that has women in feathers) and finds his child client, Auggie, in his trailer. The kid's obnoxious. He's obnoxious to his lawyer, to his parents, and in playing the stereotypical child star. Case in point: calling his parents by their first names. I don't know what it is about fame or Willie Wonka that makes kids think they can get away with that shit. The E! True Hollywood Story is that Auggie wants to be declared an adult because so he can take a special magical drug that will delay puberty and keep him a child star. His parents don't want him to take the drug because it's used for cancer treatment and very dangerous, not to mention unnatural. "He wants to be declared an adult so he doesn't have to grow up," Stage Mom sums up. "My voice cracked last week and...I'm starting to get hair. Do you know what that's going to do to my career?" Auggie demands from the depths of his makeup bib. Arguing. Auggie doesn't want to be washed up like every other child star since Leave it to Beaver, all of whom are now "out there robbing convenience stores for attention." Is that a Todd Bridges joke or a Mackenzie Phillips joke? I'm not quite sure.
It's Robert Guillaume! I love him. Judge Benson is presiding at the holographic pre-trail of Bob the Rapist. Bob the Rapist's attorney moves to dismiss the case on the grounds "that masturbation is not a tort." Judge Benson asks Horatio for his response. For some odd reason that might actually have legal grounding In The Future, Horatio brings the Bible into the fray as he defines sex as "having knowledge of someone," which, he argues, is exactly what Bob the Rapist now has of Sylvie. More argument over whether or not one can masturbate without touching oneself. Never thought I'd be typing those words in a recap. Judge Benson rules, "After reading the pleadings, one fact leaps out: Ms. Cahn, your client's a piece of crap. That doesn't make him a rapist. In fact, in my opinion, he's not a rapist, and if I liked the guy I might push that agenda. As it is, my legal finding is that they are entitled to a trial." Judge Benson beams out. Counselor Cahn's hologram tells Horatio that she'd like to meet with him to "toss [him] a bone." Given the context of this particular case, I don't think I want to touch that one myself.
Horatio and Khanita lead Sylvie -- who is chastely wrapped in a cardigan sweater tied over a turtleneck -- to the boning meeting and advise her on how to handle herself in front of Bob the Rapist.
In the meeting, Counselor Cahn says she thinks they're going to win the trial, but that her client's reputation will suffer for it. At this point, Bob the Rapist stretches his mock turtlenecked neck over some yellow roses and sniffs them. Over the white mock turtleneck, Bob the Rapist has seen sartorially fit to don a navy sportcoat because In The Future Lee Fawcett-Majors is seen as a high-fashion mogul not appreciated enough in his own time. Cahn makes an offer of five hundred thousand dollars to "make this go away." Sylvie tells Cahn and Bob the Rapist to go to hell. "Do you have any idea what it feels like?" Sylvie demands of Cahn. "Oh, I think I do," moans Bob the Rapist. Cahn tells her cunt of a client to cool it. Cahn and Bob the Rapist drop their bomb: he tells Sylvie that he met her fiancé that night on her fiancé's specific invitation because Karl wanted money from Bob the Rapist. Investor money, but still, he needed it bad, man. Bob the Rapist says that Karl the Fiancé offered up sex with Sylvie in exchange for the doubloons: "He thought about that so hard he spilled his drink. Then he offered me a special inducement to invest: I could nail you through him -- his little way of saying thanks."
Sylvie confronts Karl the Fiancé with Bob the Rapist's revelation. Karl the Fiancé admits to asking the guy out for a drink, but nothing more than that. He insists he would never let anyone hurt her because he didn't need money that badly. "Why him?" Sylvie demands. "You had a bad date with the guy. I didn't think it meant his money was no good!" insists Karl the Fiancé and apologizes sincerely, tragically, maudlin-ly for his unwitting part in the nano-rape. Sylvie nods tensely.
Outside, Khanita recaps what we just saw and says that Sylvie's having trouble believing her fiancé and that she loves him, which means it's going to be even harder for the jury to believe Karl. Horatio tells Khanita to do some investigating at the bar where the nanites hit the fan. I think Kristin Lehman contracted the same alien eyes condition that Susan on the real Coupling has been suffering from for years.
Some really fake flags flutter weakly in front of a courthouse. They're clearly computer-generated, but my question is this: is that just for the ease of this show not to have real flags (which doesn't make any sense) or are flags actually computer-generated In The Future? What does that do to the Patriot Act? How come the U.S. hasn't imploded as a result? Does this mean Bono and Kid Rock can only wrap themselves in code? In the courtroom, Sylvie describes how Bob the Rapist revealed his nano-triumph to her -- how he gave her a bouquet of flowers, how he smiled, and how she immediately threw up. When Horatio asks whether Bob the Rapist's actions have affected her life, Sylvie says she can't sleep and she can't look at the skyline -- once a source of great pleasure for her -- because it was out on her deck, with a view of the skyline, that it all happened. "Now the skyline makes me sick -- in my own home, in my bed, in my skin," Sylvie gags. "I feel like I don't own my body anymore. I'm frightened because it could happen any time...anything I do. I never know anymore what's just mine." Horatio gently thanks her. Cahn cross-examines Sylvie. She prods, badgers. Horatio objects that the number of Sylvie's orgasms isn't pertinent to the case, and the objection is sustained. Cahn brings Sylvie and Karl's relationship into question by getting her to admit she was unfaithful to him and that therefore there is no trust between them and that therefore Karl could be lying when he says he didn't consent to the nano-shot and THEREFORE I'm going to have a shot myself. Reactions all around the court.
In another courtroom, Ralph Malph testifies that he has to sell cars because he's a washed-up child star, who was a crook and a convict before settling on his current career. And it's all because his voice changed: "When I, uh, hit puberty, people stopped liking me, and the ratings fell, and people started hating me. I became a joke, which was a little rough for a twelve-year-old kid." Darwin the Dick has no further questions. A craggy old lady attorney for the defense tells Malph to quit his whining, and asks, if he had the opportunity to delay adulthood, would he have taken it? "Just look at me, ma'am, would you?" Malph asks. Auggie and his parents look disturbed. Okay...what? Is that for the taking the Neverland drugs or against? Seriously, someone tell me, because it sounds like, considering his current situation, he would have been for it, yet he's a witness for the prosecution...? Or plaintiff, or whatever they call them In The Future.
Close-up of a Dirty Martini. Khanita investigates. After sweet-talking the bartender, who insists that the bar has no surveillance equipment -- supposedly borne out by the fact that when Khanita walks through the door, she sets off an alarm and has to hand over her PDA before she can get a drink -- Khanita sees the surveillance tapes from the bar that has no surveillance equipment. The tapes reveal that Bob the Rapist was in the bathroom when Karl the Fiancé spilled his drink. The drink was cleaned up, removed, and replaced before Bob the Rapist returned from his slash, so the only way he could have known Karl the Fiancé spilled is drink is if...HE HAD ALREADY SLIPPED HIM THE NANITE MICKY! Khanita watches the playback of the two men coming through "the arch." Hee, holodeck reference. Well, probably not, but I like to think so because it's the only thing amusing me as Khanita gumshoes her way through this case with a bland face, bland clothes, and a blander than Blandy's Madeira personality. The tape shows The Arch picking up the two PDAs on the two guys as they enter. They hand the PDAs over and sit at the bar. Then the tape of them on the way out reveals the guys taking back their PDAs, and I think it's Karl the Fiancé who is shown going through The Arch with a Day-Glo green X-Ray effect as though he had just slammed a St. Patty's beer with a Kryptonite chaser. Khanita gasps that "he was recording it." I'm confused. Again. And again, I'm really far too bored to care.
Khanita explains to Horatio that The Arch went crazy because it picked up on the nanites that were rocking out in Karl's system: "And Bob's PDA was drawing eight hundred joules of power -- it was downloading." "Downloading what?" Horatio duhs. "Data from the nanites inside Karl. Remember how he described that Karl spilled his drink? When that happened, Bob wasn't even there; the only way he could have known about the spill is if he started recording Karl's senses at the bar and replayed them later," Khanita explains. But that doesn’t explain why the surveillance tape doesn't show when or how Bob the Rapist slipped the nanite Roofie into Karl the Fiancé's drink. I mean, it would have been obvious, right? They never clear that part up, and it bothers me. Horatio deduces that if Bob the Rapist played back the part at the bar then...that means...he can play back everything else. EVERYTHING! "He can re-feel, re-experience the whole thing whenever he gets the urge," Khanita finishes. And because we are THAT DUMB, Horatio says, "He could be raping Sylvie every night."
Another day, another change of bland clothes. Khanita is staring blandly at a Lucite screen when Horatio walks in and hands her a plastic box, saying that the civil search warrant worked and that they found "this" still in Bob the Rapist's PDA. Khanita confirms for THOSE WHO JUST TUNED IN that this is the rape on tape. "Recorded and ready to be re-experienced -- the data's been accessed over thirty times," Horatio adds. "Over thirty times"? Does the guy not have a life? Oh, right. Horatio goes on to say that he replayed the part at the bar -- are you sure that's all you replayed, hm? Oh, ick, ick. I can't go there, not with Ioan -- and that what happened supports Karl the Fiancé's statements: Sylvie's name never came up, and Bob the Rapist is totally lying. Khanita wants to break the news to their client, but Horatio doesn't want Sylvie knowing about the chip. He thinks that now that Bob the Rapist knows they know what really happened, Bob the Rapist can't get up on the stand and claim Karl lied. "The only reason to tell her is the same reason Bob had for telling her in the first place: to watch her puke. To watch her world fall apart. I don't feel any legal obligation to do that, do you?" Horatio demands. Khanita doesn't. Ioan can't quite pull of "puke."
Stage Mom testifies that all Auggie ever wanted was to be an actor, and that since he was good at it, they indulged him completely. Darwin the Dick gets up and rants at the mother for not saying "no" to Auggie when he said he wanted to be an actor. Stage Mom protests that she just wanted her son to be happy. "When your son wanted to do something that was bound to end up badly, you just couldn't stop him, could you? Whereas now that he's ready to crash and burn and there's something that could save him, you've suddenly developed some SPINE! Is that kind of in the BALLPARK, BERTHA?" Heh, "Bertha" is a funny name. Stage Mom looks mutely at Stage Dad, who gives immeasurable support by looking down and rubbing his nose.
On the stand, Auggie recites his creed: "Rule number one for celebrities: change is not allowed. If they love you 'cause you're fat, don't lose weight. If they love you 'cause you're twelve, don't turn thirteen." If they hate you stuffed into that old man's brown pimp-striped suit, will you change? Darwin the Dick gently asks Auggie whether he really wants to turn seventeen in a twelve-year-old body. Ugh, talk about growing pains and Am I Normal issues! Auggie goes on and on about the pressures he has as a child star, and says he's not ready to be hated by all those who love him, nor is he ready to be a "seventeen-year-old failure." Stage Parents' Attorney questions Auggie about the irony of wanting to be an adult so that he can stay a kid. Auggie points out that he just doesn't want to grow up physically. Stage Attorney asks whether Auggie has started noticing girls yet. He has. Stage Attorney wonders if Auggie fears that the girls on the set who pay him such attention now will stop paying that attention if he changes -- that they only like him because of his fame. "That or the money -- that's all they know," Auggie retorts. "That's not true," Stage Attorney says, wagging her head condescendingly. "Yeah? What's my first name, Counselor?" Auggie demands. "Auggie --" Stage Attorney starts to say. "Stage name! What's my real name?" Auggie demands. Stage Attorney says they aren't here for him to ask questions. "It's Frank!" Auggie shouts. "You had a nice point there, Counselor -- that maybe I'm just scared to grow up. But you're wrong. I grew up when I was eight years old. I grew up the day I wasn't allowed to play T-Ball because the league couldn't afford extra security. I grew up the day I played catch with my dad [Stage Dad smiles fondly] and the morning I didn't know my lines, and I almost got fired, and it never happened again." Everyone looks sad for this poor multi-millionaire who never got to have a childhood. BORED.
Bob the Rapist gets on the stand and puts up a real good show about feeling so terrible and ashamed about what he did, and pleads with Sylvie to forgive his terrible act. He insists that the nano-rape was only like looking in a window and watching Karl and Sylvie have sex, like a computer game. Bob the Rapist insists that he's not a rapist, and says he knows sex and that wasn't it. He attempts to apologize to Sylvie, calling out her name. Horatio insists that no questions have been asked, in order to silence him. Sylvie wrings her hands and looks upset.
During recess, Khanita tells Horatio that he can't win without playing the chip for everyone and therefore letting the jury rape her just as Bob the Rapist did. Horatio has to put the decision before Sylvie.
Once Sylvie realizes that Bob the Rapist will walk free unless she allows this violation, she agrees to go through with it.
In the courtroom the jury, Judge Benson, Khanita, Horatio, and Bob the Rapist's attorney all put on headgear à la Star Trek: The Generation's "The Game," as Judge Benson explains that they will be receiving information through all five senses. He advises them to close their eyes to keep from seeing double. Bob the Rapist's attorney tries (and fails) one more time to lodge an objection. The playback starts. Everyone wearing headgear either licks their lips, breathes deeply, or in some other way telegraphs arousal as we see what Karl saw. Throughout these few seconds, Sylvie looks sickened. Not much happens other than seeing Sylvie standing on her deck in a silk nightgown with a robe over it, reaching out for Karl's hands. She leans in for a kiss, and soon after that last image, Horatio rips off his headgear. At the same time, Judge Benson calls a halt to the playback, and members of the jury gasp and shudder. Bob the Rapist's attorney takes off her headgear, visibly shaken. Judge Benson says he doesn't think anything further would be appropriate. Horatio can hardly even bring himself to look at his client. Sylvie winces.
Outside somewhere, Auggie signs autographs. Auggie admires a kid's bike. The kid offers to let him ride it, but Auggie begs off, saying he'd break it. The kid insists he can't break it because it has a "gyro-stabilizer." Remember how we learned that Auggie couldn't play T-Ball? Well, guess what ELSE he missed out on? Sure enough, Auggie teeters around the square on the bike. Considering he doesn't actually fall, it's not like he never learned how to ride; it's more like he never finished learning. Anyway, for some odd reason, this display of semi-ineptitude sends negative murmurs around the crowd. Some guy even says, "He's isn't as cute in person, is he?" to Darwin the Dick. First of all, he's riding a bike; what exactly is there to be "cute" about? And second, how dumb is this guy to think the actor has to be just like his character? In The Future, we all become clichés. Darwin the Dick looks around at the sniggering crowd, hears someone yell, "Look mom, no talent!," and seems troubled, but I'm sure he'll get over it.
Horatio presents his closing argument to a computer jury. Every so often, a computerized member interrupts Horatio and tells him what the odds are of a jury member with his or her characteristics responding to his word choice. Horatio resets the jury and tries again. It doesn't work, and this time an Asian woman tells him that a jury member with her characteristics would prefer something more personal. Khanita walks in just as Horatio gets really frustrated. He tells her that he left the D.A.'s office because he can't handle these kinds of cases. Khanita sits down to him and says, "I think about how I'd feel if he'd done this to me, and I'm glad she has you on her side." Horatio can't hold her look. He looks up at the objecting jury member. The computerized face fades into a real Asian female juror's face, as she sits listening to Bob the Rapist's attorney's closing argument. Lord. Attorney Cahn's main point is that a rape kit -- she holds one up that comes standard to all hospitals -- wasn't used on Sylvie; therefore, she wasn't raped. Cahn argues that because Sylvie wasn't pinned down, held at knifepoint, or had her life otherwise threatened, to call what happened to her "rape" would "demean" the word for those who have been pinned down, held at knifepoint, or otherwise had their lives threatened. ["Date rape? Forget it. Though if this attorney's definition of rape is really that narrow, she should switch over to NBC for Law & Order: Special Victims Unit to educate herself as to the different forms rape can take." -- Wing Chun] Her final thought is that Sylvie gave her consent to allow the jury, etc to experience her rape, and that no other kind of "real" rape victim would allow that.
Horatio makes his case that she consented the second time, not the first, and that's what makes the first time rape. At this point, he notices the Asian woman on the jury and seems to change his tack. He tells a story of "play wrestling" with a friend's sister. She told him to stop, and he pretended she was kidding and didn't stop, "And I held her down and for one long minute, I knew what it meant to cross that line. I backed off, she made a joke about it, and we never talked about it ever again." Horatio's point is that he never felt that way again until he felt the defendant's recording. The Asian woman nods at him. Encouraged, Horatio asks them all to consider how many of them felt the same way as they experienced the few seconds of the nano-rape. He spells it all out for them: "Maybe that's not ever what we thought of as being sex, but maybe that's because we never HAD to think about it. We've never had the technology. Well, now we do, and you need to make a judgment here; for yourselves, for your wives, for your daughters [uh, what about husbands and sons? This type of rape will make all variants thereof much easier. For everyone], that SCIENCE has given MEN a new way to commit rape that is just as VILE as any other!" He gets very Hornblower-y in these lines. That kind of drama works well on the H.M.S. Dauntless when you're staring down the barrel of a fire ship or a devious duchess, but not so much here. Especially not with that rising music of righteousness. You remember those thirty-one sexual assault convictions Horatio got? Yes, well, do you think he used that same childhood story in all of them?
In his office, Darwin the Dick tells Auggie that he was very good on the stand. And then to my abject horror, Darwin the Dick decides it's time to read Auggie's soul for a song and thinks that this case is not about a kid's wanting to be an adult; it's about an adult who never got to be a kid. He got all that from watching Auggie ride the bike? I'm so confused and dizzy now. Auggie denies this, so Darwin outwits him by pretending he doesn't care, and starts talking about their closing arguments. Auggie asks whether Darwin thinks it's too late for Auggie to be a kid. Darwin barks that he knew it, and shouts that he "can read people." Can you read me, Darwin? Darwin tells Auggie it's not too late to make friends, and play catch, and ride a bike, and that he doesn't need a cancer-treating drug to do all that. In the cheesy end of this scene, the kid drops the lawsuit when Darwin admits that they're getting killed, and asks Darwin to teach him how to ride a bike. Darwin says sincerely that he'd love to, but adds he'd have to bill him for his time and suggests there's someone else who could teach him since the cat's in the cradle and the sliver spoon, Little Boy Blue and the Man in the Moon. I know they're trying to shoehorn me into believing that Darwin the Dick isn't but I've already seen the episode and his sexual harassment of Khanita so I'm not really buying it. Just because you're nice to a kid doesn't mean you're not the Clarence Thomas.
The jury foreman hands the jury's finding to the deputy. The deputy hands it to Judge Benson. Judge Benson reads it and hands it back to the deputy. The deputy hands it back to the jury foreman. Judge Benson asks if they've reached a verdict. The jury foreman says they have and stands and now we can see it's the same Asian woman who inspired Horatio in his closing argument. See, I wrote that all out just so you could see how easy it just would have been for me to say, "They have a verdict," but for some reason courts deem it necessary to do this back and forth, complete with the judge asking the jury if they've reached a verdict when he JUST GOT DONE READING THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION! The jury finds in favor of Sylvie and awards her $11 million. Sylvie sighs and grabs at the table. Horatio is pleased. Even Bob the Rapist's attorney looks slightly pleased. Bob the Rapist looks smarmy and annoyed. Sylvie thanks Horatio. Horatio seems to be winking back tears. Dude, get it together! Sylvie looks back at Karl, who puts his closed fist up to his mouth as if to stifle a burp. What an odd thing to do right at that particular moment.
The courtroom is empty and Horatio is still sitting there. God, this is going to be cheesier than a certain gazelle speech I have no knowledge of. A bailiff comes in and asks Horatio (by name) if he's okay. Horatio thanks him (by name) and says he's just tired. Horatio has the chip in his hand. Shouldn't that be given to Sylvie so she can destroy it? The Asian jury foreman comes back in to get the sweater she so conveniently left behind. She pauses and says to Horatio, "You didn't only win it for her." He stares at her. She bids him good night and walks out. He stares after her and says "good night" belatedly. Beautiful closing shot on Ioan's face in half-light. Sigh. But that doesn't make the episode worth the seven hours I just spent recapping it.
Week Or More Like Four Days From Now: a baseball player has a bionic eye and the grave opens up before me like a big...hole in the ground.