By Deborah
Props to Angiv.
Previously on The West Wing: Donna dispensed dating advice to Josh; Josh claimed not to be jealous of Donna's dating; Donna dispensed more dating advice to Josh.
Briefing Room. C.J. is asked by Katie the Reporter whether she knows anything about the President being sued. Apparently there was something in the Rocky Mountain Bugler or Bugle or Herald or whatever it's called. No one knows, or cares. C.J. indicates she hasn't heard anything about it, and ends the briefing. As she and Carol leave, C.J. asks if Carol knows anything about it. Carol's response is that she thinks the paper is called the News.
Suddenly Toby appears with a Styrofoam coffee cup in hand and Carol splits off, and C.J. walks with Toby as he explains that there's a veterans' group that's threatening not to show up for the anniversary. He has no idea why not. C.J. asks, "Do you know anything about the President being sued?" He doesn't.
C.J. takes off as Toby runs into Ginger; he asks if she's set up a meeting for him with the veterans' group. She says a couple of times that she has, but then Toby figures out she hasn't, and she confesses. She says she will do it. She takes off, and Toby runs into Sam, who tells him the President is being sued. Sam's getting his information from the Department of Justice, Civil Division. Apparently, a few months ago at a benefit, POTUS was asked about whether the dangers of airbags outweigh the benefits. I have at least one cousin who thinks so, having had an airbag explode in her face when she was in a slight fender-bender. She said it was like being hit in the face with a baseball bat and was much worse than the incredibly minor accident that set it off. Anyway, as Sam and Toby enter their respective offices, Sam hollers that POTUS replied, "'Everything has risks. Your car could drive into a lake and your seatbelt jams, but no one's saying don't wear your seatbelt.'" Toby: "Oh, don't tell me..." Sam: "That someone thought that's what he was saying? Yeah." All together now: Duh. Apparently, a couple who attended the fundraiser got into an accident. The man was not wearing a seatbelt and was killed, and his partner is suing for contributory negligence. Toby says you can't sue the President. Sam says lawyers get rich trying to figure out how. Sam suggests preemptive action. Toby: "It's not going to be a big deal." Sam: "Isn't that what we usually say right before something becomes a big deal?" Yup, if memory serves.
Out in the hall, POTUS brings up the rear with an entourage. Jed calls out to Toby, who stops while Sam takes off. POTUS tells Toby to walk with him. Toby warns him that he's going to hear some stuff about seatbelts today, and urges him to ignore it. Jed says that's no problem and asks if Toby's straightened things out with the Smithsonian, explaining to one member of his entourage that he's supposed to speak at an exhibit commemorating the sixtieth anniversary of Pearl Harbor but that there's a veterans' group objecting to the exhibit on the grounds that it's "America-bashing." Said member comments to Toby, "I thought you liked America-bashing." Toby says, "I wouldn't say that."
Out in the hall, POTUS brings up the rear with an entourage. Jed calls out to Toby, who stops while Sam takes off. POTUS tells Toby to walk with him. Toby warns him that he's going to hear some stuff about seatbelts today, and urges him to ignore it. Jed says that's no problem and asks if Toby's straightened things out with the Smithsonian, explaining to one member of his entourage that he's supposed to speak at an exhibit commemorating the sixtieth anniversary of Pearl Harbor but that there's a veterans' group objecting to the exhibit on the grounds that it's "America-bashing." Said member comments to Toby, "I thought you liked America-bashing." Toby says, "I wouldn't say that."
They're in the Oval Office now. The guy asks, "What would you say?" Toby: "I wouldn't." Toby reminds Jed that he wanted to talk to him for some reason. Jed asks the member, whose name is Frank, "What was added?" Frank reads from a document he has, indicating that two F-117 fighter jets have been added to "the package" (although one poster has stated in the forums that the U.S. has never sold the F-117 to any ally). Toby asks, "This is Qumar?" Qumar, so far as I can tell -- and I've made a diligent search -- is a fictional country. It's clearly meant to suggest a Middle Eastern country with the faux-Arabic name. (What's interesting about it is I've almost always heard the name Kumar -- thus transliterated -- in a Hindi context. I've never heard it in Arabic. It may be Arabic, but I can't find any support for that.) The only thing we learn about "Qumar" in this episode is that its government is, Taliban-style, extremely oppressive and violent toward women. Religion is never mentioned, although it's clearly implied. I wonder why they didn't just use a real country, since so few details are given about Qumar. Before seeing the episode, based on the title, I figured they made up a country to in order to function as a general framework for the evils perpetrated against women in various quasi- and pseudo-Islamic countries. I trust we'll also be hearing soon about such things as the misogyny inherent in China's one-child policy; the widespread phenomena of child marriage, forced marriage, acid attacks, dowry burnings and the return of sati in countries like India; the complete indifference to the numerous rape-murders of women in Ciudad Juarez; the systematic rape and sexual abuse in Bosnia of thousands and thousands of Muslim women by Serbian ethno-nationalists; and so on. I'm sure we'll also be examining the many ways in which American and Canadian governments continue to fail their poorest, neediest, most victimized women.
Anyway. Jed confirms that it is indeed Qumar. Frank reads off a list of the numerous military weapons and vehicles that are being sold. Toby says there's no way he'll remember all that, and asks Frank to send somebody a memo. It's made clear that this is in exchange for a ten-year lease agreement. Jed says they're ready to announce the deal. Toby says he'll let C.J. know. Jed says to do that, but he wants her to pass it off to the DOD. Toby asks, "You want to bury it?" Jed's only talking to Toby now; he's got his back to everyone else. The other people have sort of moved off to the side. He sheepishly says, "Not totally, but..." Toby says that passing it off to another department is usually an indication that they don't want the public to care about it. Jed mutters, "I don't know. Every time we make one of these deals with a place like Qumar I feel the women around here look at me funny." Toby gently suggests that POTUS is probably wrong about that. Jed asks, "You think it's just guilt?" Toby does. Jed: "Well, how should I deal with guilt?" Toby, softly: "Be more like me." Hee. Jed smiles and almost laughs, and for some reason it's more Martin Sheen and less Jed Bartlet in a way I can't really put my finger on. It's almost as if he broke character and found the line funnier than Jed is supposed to, but it works quite well and is very charming. As Toby grabs his files and asks if there's anything else, Jed ventures, "C.J.'s going to be cool with this, right?" Toby: "C.J.'s the one you're worried about?" Jed replies, "I'm just saying, she knows who the good guys are, right?" Um...that must be Americans, right? Guys in white hats? Governments who occasionally do business with other governments at their convenience, even propping up regimes that are utterly morally bankrupt, while often overlooking violations of human rights? Yeah, we all know who the good guys are. It's crystal clear. Toby assures him she does. He leaves, Jed puts on his glasses, and the camera floats up above him to show him standing on the Presidential Seal area of the carpet, as he asks, "What's ?" The seal in the carpet fades into the shot of the seal in the credits.
Donna enters Josh's office. "Josh?" Josh, deeply absorbed in something or other, replies, "Could I get five minutes without being interrupted by banality?" At that point an aide brings in Abby, still in her wheelchair. Abby: "It's not banality, Josh. It's the boss's wife." Josh stands up and greets her. To Donna, he says, "A little heads-up wouldn't be out of line." Donna says indifferently, "I said 'Josh.'" She leaves. Josh asks what he can do for FLOTUS. She says, "I got a letter from Amy Gardner." Josh was cc'ed on that letter. Abby: "She seems pretty irate." He replies, "Amy Gardner's always irate about something. I wouldn't give it a lot of thought." Turns out Abby happens to agree with her. Josh: "Me too, and I think it deserves a lot of thought." Abby thought he might. Josh: "I was kidding." Abby: "I don't care." Abby says the letter was co-signed by NOW, the Women's Action League, and about ten women's groups, and she has to go to Vienna week. Josh replies carefully, "Honestly, ma'am. Due respect. I think they're overreacting. We're talking about one word." Abby inquires, "Isn't this one word that dramatically alters the effectiveness of the treaty?" Josh isn't sure about that. Abby says that the current draft says "forced prostitution." She wonders, "Excluding all other types of prostitution?" Abby states that Amy says that unless the UN removes the word "forced," it's going to be difficult to prosecute at all. Josh: "You've spoken with her?" Abby has, and wants Josh to do the same. Josh, trying to restrain a sigh: "God...really?" Abby smiles, gestures to her aide to make with the wheelchair, and says, "See? Now you're wishing it'd been banality." Josh: "Yes, I am." She tells him to have a good day as she leaves.
Leo meets with a bunch of suits in the Roosevelt Room. He thanks them for waiting. One guy introduces Leo to Drs. Bedrosian and Califf. The first guy cuts to the chase: a herd of cattle in Ogallala, Nebraska was accidentally given banned feed and quarantined eighteen months ago. Another guy states that one of the cows showed neurological damage: "It was unable to stand. It's called a 'downer cow.'" Another guy says that tissue was sent to U.S. and U.K. labs for testing. The first round of tissue from the tests in Iowa showed a presumptive positive. Leo, with an expression of great concern: "Mad cow?" They say they don't know yet and have to wait for the U.K. results. Leo asks for the worst-case scenario. The first guy replies, "We declare a national state of emergency and a Class One recall on all consumer beef." One of the other guys points out that they've tested 12,000 samples and none has come up positive. Leo wants to know, "Twelve thousand out of how many nationally?" The answer: forty million adult cattle. Leo looks distressed and gets up, saying, "Somebody needs to teach me about this."
C.J. meets with a bunch of staffers in her office, including...Larry? I think. And Carol and Toby and a few other people. C.J. sticks some food in her mouth and asks, "What's ?" They need to respond to someone named Kendall who asserted that their education reauthorization bill has "more pork than a pig-pickin' festival." There are pig-pickin' festivals? Well, it's a big country, I guess. C.J. repeats the phrase, eliciting general amusement, and adds, "More and more I'm in favour of English being the national language." Larry points out that Kendall is pushing for four new schools in his district, one of which is named after him. C.J.: "Thank you, Santa." Toby suggests the following sound bite: "It's pretty hard to get at the pork when the Chairman's hogging the trough." Larry: "And that's why he gets all the great women." Like C.J.? I ask, hope springing eternal. Toby casually says that she better be briefed on the arms sale to Qumar, because the Pentagon leaked it. C.J. looks up, surprised: "Qumar? In the Gulf?" I think it's safe to say that's meant to be the Persian Gulf, and not the Gulf of Mexico. Larry asks if there's another Qumar. Toby says they lease an air base in Qumar, and their lease is up, and Qumar won't renew without an arms package. He asks if C.J.'s writing this down. She says she's not (which Toby can obviously see) and asks when they made an arms deal with Qumar. He doesn't know, and wonders what it matters. C.J.: "What does it matter? What are we selling?" He tells her not to start. She asks again what they are selling. Toby asks a staffer, who reads off the list of weapons and vehicles and the price: $1.5 billion. C.J.: "'Don't start'? What the he --?" Toby gives her a look that is simultaneously questioning and discouraging, if you can imagine that, and since it's Toby, I think you can. She asks if there's anything else. Everyone leaves.
As Toby wanders out (lucky for him, he was closest to the door), he runs into Sam, who declares, "This is how it starts." Toby, who's still carrying the cup of coffee he's had in his hand for the whole show thus far, asks, "What?" Sam replies, "Trouble. This is how trouble starts." Toby asks if this is about the seatbelt thing. Sam says that "contributory negligence in a wrongful death is the tort equivalent of murder." I still don't think I understand why a speechwriter is so constantly involved in policy issues. Also, apparently the term "contributory negligence" is being used incorrectly here, but as I am not a lawyer, I'll leave it at that and let those who are hash it out in the forums. Toby asks, "Aren't lawsuits against the President the tort equivalent of insane?" Sam pours coffee for himself and more for Toby, who cites the example of the guy who's suing POTUS to halt the CIA-sponsored radio transmissions in his bridgework, and the guy who's suing to have the man from the planet Xanadu removed from his front yard. There may be an Olivia Newton-John joke in there somewhere, but it's way too early and I have too much of a headache to see it if there is. Sam thought that was a local case, but Toby says it's federal. Toby mentions the couple suing for all back taxes because taxes are unconstitutional. Sam: "Technically, they are." Toby: "Sam..." Sam: "They're not." Toby mentions the bow tie manufacturer from the garment district who blames the falling market on the fact that POTUS doesn't wear bow ties. Sam says there's a reason the Civil Division warned them about this case: it could break. Sam claims, "One random comment and that's the ball game. Thank you for coming to Dodger Stadium." Toby wonders if Sam thinks murder is going to overtake health care and education on the campaign trail. Sam: "No, you're right, 'cause health care and education are much sexier." Sam says they should come out right now for a national seatbelt law. Toby says, "No, wait, better yet, why doesn't he set up his own checkpoint on I-95?" Sam says that's impractical. Toby barks, "So is twisting national policy over a non-story!" He splits off into his office area. Sam keeps walking, mumbling, "It's not going to be a non-story." He runs into Ginger, who wonders if he is talking to her. As he passes the door to the Oval Office, he says no.
Jed enters from the portico door to Mrs. Landingham's memor -- I mean, "desk." He asks Charlie, "Did the Celtics win last night?" He pronounces it "correctly," which is to say, the way sports fans pronounce the word, with a soft C. Since the word comes from the Greek Keltoi, I have always felt very strongly that it should be pronounced with a hard C. In fact, that's one of the things you can put on my tombstone: "It's Keltic, damn it!" Since I believe Sars will be pinch-hitting (Look! I worked in a sports metaphor!) the editing of this recap and is a much bigger sports fan than I am (well, Benedictine monks are probably bigger sports fans than I am), she'll probably have something to say about all this. ["Only if the Celtics were a baseball team. Good use of 'pinch-hitting,' though." -- Sars] Anyway, Charlie is pleased to report, "No, they got crushed." Jed: "'Kay, when I say 'Did they win,' you can just say yes or no." Charlie: "They got pretty well crushed." Jed asks, "What up?" Well, really he just asks what Charlie is doing. Charlie apologizes, saying he had a few minutes. Jed says, "I'm not on you, I'm just asking." Mentally, he adds, "Because I could be missing an opportunity to share a folksy yarn or pedantic fact or curmudgeonly opinion!" Aw, Jed, you know I love you. I'm just fooling around. Charlie explains that he's making notes for a final in Modern American History: "Consumer Movements in Late Twentieth Century America." Jed declares, "Modern American History sucks." Charlie: "I had a hunch." Jed walks into his office, advising Charlie, "You want to study history, study the Crusades, the fall of the Roman Empire from Theodosius to Justinian." Charlie: "The Visigoths." Jed: "Damn right, the Visigoths. 'Modern History' is another word for television." Charlie: "Yes, sir." Jed asks if there is any way he can help. Charlie declines. Jed persists, claiming to be a master of modern history, and says Charlie can ask him anything. Charlie asks, "What year did we pass the Clean Water Act?" Jed doesn't know. Charlie says okay and leaves as Leo arrives.
C.J. also enters and greets POTUS. Leo tells Jed about the fact that they're waiting to hear from the UK about tests for mad cow. Jed: "Oh man, they got it again?" Leo and C.J. exchange glances; Leo explains that it's a possible U.S. case. Jed looks up with great surprise and concern, and takes off his glasses. Leo explains that they have a presumptive positive, and the British tests will provide definitive results in seventy-two hours. Jed asks if they say anything in the meantime. That's what Leo's there to determine. C.J. thinks they have to say something; she wants to put the Secretary in the Briefing Room with medical experts and cattle experts and have them lay out the facts and "soften up the ground." Leo disagrees: "In three days we'll have our facts straight; we can make a full disclosure." And meanwhile the USDA can trace and check feed logs and herd movement. Leo says they don't know how many herds are going to require quarantine. C.J. says they don't know how many people already know about this. Leo says no one knows. C.J. argues that the rancher knows, the labs in Iowa and England know, and the USDA knows. Leo points out that the Iowa lab is their lab, and the rancher has no interest in spreading the news. POTUS says they have to wait: "The second we say 'positive,' beef futures collapse, and we lose $3.6 billion in beef exports, fast food is deserted, supermarkets pull beef...it's panic." He wants to talk to more people, but decides in the meantime that they should wait. Leo and C.J. thank him and walk toward Leo's office.
Before they're out of the Oval Office, C.J. asks, "Want to see panic?" Leo hushes her gently until he's had the chance to close the door. C.J. repeats her question: "Want to see panic? Let the story break on CNN." Leo thinks they need the time to get some reassuring answers. C.J. states, "I don't know how many more times we can get caught keeping a secret." Leo: "Sometimes that's what we're supposed to do." C.J. accepts this. She starts to leave and then comes back to say, "Listen...not for nothing, but three weeks ago a woman in Qumar was executed for adultery. She didn't need a lawyer 'cause there wasn't any trial. It was her husband's word against hers." Leo acknowledges this. C.J. continues, "Later today I'm going to be announcing that we're selling them tanks and guns." Leo makes a silent gesture of "what do you want from me?" C.J. just says sharply, "Okay," and hustles out. As she walks along the hall, she takes off her glasses and pushes a bit of hair away from her eye with slight annoyance.
After the commercials, the scene opens with the camera on a black-and-white photo of an elderly woman looking slightly pissed. Josh is at the office of the Women's Leadership Coalition, which must be pretty damn well-funded, because this is some swanky office. He glances nervously at the photograph. The receptionist tells him that Amy should be with him shortly. Josh gets up and wanders around to look at the other photographs around the waiting area, all of which feature very strong images of women. He comments, "This is interesting art on the walls. A lot of very strong women who could hurt me." Scared or excited, Josh? I can't tell. The receptionist tosses off, "Only if you provoked them." Josh's nervous smile fades ever so slightly. The receptionist assures him that Amy must be doing something very important or she wouldn't keep Josh waiting. A woman appears in the form of Mary Louise Parker, dressed very fashionably in a black sweater, dark brown straight skirt with a cute little slit, and an eye-catching silver lariat-style necklace, and says, "Special J." Whoa..."Special J?" I can feel the harem freaking. Seems to be some history here. Josh says, "Amy." She says wryly, "Thanks for waiting. I was playing a little Nintendo." Right now I think she's kidding, but as the show wears on I have no trouble believing it. She claims she's kidding and was on a conference call.
As they walk back to her office, she offers: "Coke? Pepsi? Shrimp cocktail?" He declines all of the above. They arrive at her office and exchange the sort of "how've you been" chatter you'd expect. Josh glances at the view out her window as she points to a poster on an easel and asks if he knows what it is. She sits down in her chair, which if I know the slightest thing about interior design (and I like to believe I do) is a Herman Miller Aeron chair, currently retailing for around $700 USD. Remember what I was saying about well-funded? I have to say, I don't know many feminist organizations that spend their money quite so lavishly on items like that. But in case anyone's interested, I'd love one of those chairs for Festivus. Does Amazon sell them? I should put it on my wish list. Hey, I spend at least twelve hours a day at this damn desk. I've got a good chair, but it's no Aeron. ["Word. I'd kill for one of those." -- Sars] Anyway, Josh reads the poster and guesses, "A map of global trafficking in prostitution?" Yup. She asks if he knows who drew it. Josh hazards another guess: "Amerigo Vespucci?" Close. Amy replies, "No, but that's funny, J. It was your State Department." Josh points out that it's her State Department too. Amy: "Yeah, a little more yours than mine." Josh cuts to the chase, complaining that every time Amy writes to FLOTUS, Abby gets into gear because she feels like she's not doing enough for women. I wonder how often Jed is troubled by that same thought. Amy says FLOTUS isn't in fact doing enough for women. Josh asks what she would like. Amy's glad he asked. Josh: "Not half as glad as I am." Amy says that the current draft states that only forced prostitution is sexual exploitation, not other types of prostitution. Josh acknowledges this. She asks, "What about a person who answers an ad for an au pair and ends up working a fifteen-hour shift in a whorehouse where they're held hostage and can never pay off their debt?" Um, how the hell is that not forced prostitution? Before Josh can make much of a reply, she continues, "That's not the worst-case scenario. The worst-case scenario was five days ago when four thirteen-year-old Thai girls were found having hanged themselves in an abandoned house on Stonycrest Lane in Bethesda. Not halfway around the world: Bethesda. There were sheets over the windows, triple locks on the doors, no phones, handcuffs hanging off the bedposts...for the price of a four-slice toaster their parents had sold them to work as babysitters." Again I ask: How is that not forced prostitution? Man, this is something that drives me crazy on this show: the frequent attempts to make good points or create interesting debates citing the wrong examples, particularly when accurate and relevant examples abound. Remember that noise Toby made in "Gone Quiet" when Tawny wouldn't stop citing examples of "shocking" modern art? Insert me making that noise here.
Anyway, although he's less annoyed about it than I am, Special J and I are on the same wavelength: "How is that not forced prostitution?" Amy doesn't really respond to the question, or at least not very well: "I've got a whole floor full of lawyers who...in the last, in the last two years, a hundred thousand -- and by 'women,' I'm including girls who should be playing with Easy-Bake ovens -- a hundred thousand women were brought here in the last two years and forced to work as prostitutes." Easy-Bake ovens? That's the best example of girlhood activity this ardent feminist can summon? Oh, and she still hasn't explained how any of this is not forced prostitution. She asks if Josh knows how many of these cases have been prosecuted. Josh confidently replies, "Not enough." Amy: "Two hundred and fifty. You guys are about to go to Vienna and make it harder, so yeah, I dropped the First Lady a note." She still hasn't explained how removing the word "forced" makes it more difficult, legally or morally or any other way, to prosecute these cases. If she has an argument, she should bring it. Josh suddenly notices some brightly-coloured green and blue and yellow balloon...well, sculptures for lack of a better word, on Amy's credenza. He asks, "What the hell are those?" She asserts, "Those are balloon animals." Josh: "I'm sorry?" Me too. Those are some hopeless "animals." They're completely unrecognizable. She says they're balloon animals, and that she has nephews who like balloon animals so she got someone to teach her. Josh can barely suppress his smirk: "Are they abstract?" She testily points out, "I'm a beginner." Back to the debate, such as it is -- Josh says, "We can't drop the word." Amy wants to know why not. Josh: "Because we're not the only ones living in the world. Prostitution is legal in Germany, Turkey, the Netherlands...and if we alienate these countries..." Last I checked, It's also legal in Canada. Everything else to do with it (soliciting, communicating for the purpose, living off the avails, et cetera) is illegal in Canada, but actually taking money for sex is not. It's theoretically legal, so you need an advanced degree to participate. For that matter, it's also legal in a handful of rural counties in Nevada. It's also, according to my research, legal -- in various forms -- in Costa Rica, Italy, Norway, and Singapore. Okay, I'll stop.
Amy doesn't care: "So they don't sign the treaty." Josh: "The more countries who sign the treaty, the more effective it is." Amy counters, "The more toothless the treaty is, the more toothless it is." Josh says, "That's a permeating syllogism, to be sure." I don't think it really, technically, is a syllogism, but whatever. ["No, it's not the primary definition, but it can also mean 'a specious piece of reasoning,' which seems to fit here." -- Sars] Amy says, "Hey, I'm not just screwing around. The women's vote isn't just half your constituency, it's the entire margin of victory." Josh, smugly: "Who else are you going to vote for?" Ralph Nader and Winona LaDuke, maybe? Amy's clever reply: "I don't know, but in the meantime I don't think you've appointed enough women to the federal bench, so..." Josh: "Amy..." Amy: "Yeah, we'll hold up your other nominations." Josh looks mildly annoyed. "I didn't burn my bras, J. In fact, I like my bras." Huh? Should I even bother seeking the context of this remark? What's this supposed to mean? Never mind that widespread bra-burning is about 99.9 percent media myth -- is she supposed to be proclaiming her moderateness? I honestly do not know. She concludes, "I ring your bell when it's important." A voice in my head is screaming for Josh to get her to explain how obvious cases of forced prostitution are not actually forced prostitution, but I know this show well enough to realize that the scene's almost over and it ain't gonna happen. Josh has had enough of this non-debate, and decides to go. She asks him to get back to him before the end of the day. He says he will. She thanks him sweetly. On his way out, he glances around her walls and mentions, "The art around here scares the hell outta me." Amy: "That's what it's supposed to do." I think he secretly likes it.
Toby-wan meets with the people from the Smithsonian. They introduce themselves as Evan Woodkirk and Mary Klein (and Mary is Shirley from ER -- it's one of the few times I can remember seeing this actor without a surgical cap). While Toby gets himself more coffee, he asks them to tell him why he's talking to them. Evan plays Exposition Fairy: the museum is opening an exhibit marking the sixtieth anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Toby wants to know why veterans are unhappy about it. Evan says that the USF is a very small group, maybe two thousand members, only thirty of whom are going to be attending. Toby points out that they're not attending anymore, but boycotting it. Mary says it won't be any problem to fill those empty seats. Toby says it is a problem since the President is speaking at the opening, and the veterans aren't going to keep their unhappiness quiet, and he doesn't want the President where there are pissed-off veterans. Evan assures him (on no particular basis, mind you) that the veterans have nothing to be concerned about. Toby wants to know what the veterans are going to say when he meets with them. Evan says they'll say they're troubled by the commentary about the propaganda posters. Mary says, "These were fear-inspiring posters. They were incredibly racist." And the commentary says as much. Mary describes one poster called "The Sowers" as portraying the Japanese as "hulking barbarians tossing human skulls onto the ground." Toby wonders about the exhibit entitled "America's Vengeance?" Evan says, "So you've...reviewed the material?" Toby: "'Vengeance' is pretty provocative, don't you think, especially when followed by the burnt contents of a child's lunchbox? Of course I've reviewed the material." At this point, Leo interrupts to tell Toby (privately, in the hall) about the mad cow thing and to tell him to "get with" C.J. on the issue. Toby thinks they should keep it to themselves, as does Leo. He tells Toby that C.J. feels otherwise, and that POTUS wants to hear more.
Sam catches up with Leo to tell him about POTUS being sued. Leo thinks it's the guy with the Planet Zanzibar thing; Sam corrects it to "Xanadu" and further clarifies that he's talking about the seatbelt case. Leo says it's not going to be anything. Sam says the Washington Times has a headline: "Bartlet Accused of Contributory Negligence." Leo: "I didn't think the Washington Times could spell all those words." Sam says it's on page A29, above the fold. Leo: "There's a fold that deep in the paper?" I didn't get this: if something's above the fold in a paper, it's folded horizontally. If the paper's folded at all, aren't all its pages folded? Huh? Sam says, "Look, after three, four, five days it's going to be picked up, by the Post, and the New York Times -- let's be ahead of it." Leo asks how. Sam: "Come out for a national seatbelt law."
Leo: National seatbelt law's never gonna happen. Sam: Why? Leo: What's the most important state in the primaries? Sam: New Hampshire. Leo: What's the most important state in the general? Sam: Michigan. Leo: What's the only state without a mandatory seatbelt law? Sam: New Hampshire. Leo: And where do they make the cars? Sam: Fair enough. Can I explore it? Leo: Knock yourself out. In fact, go ahead and knock yourself out. Sam: Yeah.
Josh returns from his visit to Amazons, Inc. and gripes to Donna. "It's bluster! The appointments aren't going to be held up. At least not by Lady Godiva." The images on my H and U and ? keys are getting worn out. Somebody owes me a new keyboard. Is Lady Godiva supposed to be a feminist paragon? Or just an excuse to refer to bare-breastedness? Donna replies, "Tell me she wasn't bare-breasted, at least outside your imagination." Josh tosses his coat on his chair and says, "Yeah, no, she was, yeah. I'm saying, if she wants to front off, it's not like there's a moral imperative for the White House to get behind what..." "Front off"? Never heard this expression. Can't find it in my reference books. Donna supplies, "Equity..." Josh: "Equity in Insurance Coverage for Contraception or whatever it is the ladies want. More money for sewing notions and whatnot." Well, nobody ever accused Josh of being a Sensitive New-Age Guy. But hey, if I had some new notions, I could sew his yap shut. Donna: "Suffrage, for instance, and the right to smoke." Josh continues his empty threats: "If she wants to throw heat, we could hold off a few months' backing for the Child Support Enforcement Act." Donna says he doesn't want to do that. He says of course not: "I'm a friend of the working mom." Donna: "You want her to have sewing notions." Josh: "I do." How much would I like to see Josh hooked up with three kids and a wife who works outside the home, doing work of equal value to his for about seventy percent of his income, and see just how much better a friend of the working mom (and women in general) that would make him? Donna ventures, "Do you think it's possible there's a broader point?" He quickly dismisses that idea. Then he quickly becomes curious and wonders what Donna means. She points out that leaving in the word "forced" could condone consensual prostitution. I can only wonder why this wasn't a point Amy felt the need to make. Donna thinks it can be spun that way. I hardly think that would take a lot of spinning, but Josh needs convincing. He decides to consider the idea, and asks Donna to check and see if C.J. is in her office.
Toby's still with Mary and Evan. Mary says it's not like the entire exhibit is anti-American. Evan says it's not like any of the exhibit is anti-American. He adds, "I can't believe I have to have this conversation with you, of all people." Toby's not sure what the "of all people" remark means; Evan refers to Toby's perceived consistent support of the NEA. Toby denies this, and says that this is different from the NEA, partly because POTUS is going to be speaking at the opening of this event, which is the only reason Toby's meeting with them at all. He also says something's come up and he needs to move along, if they're done. They are. He asks if he can call them later today. He can.
Josh pops into to see C.J. He announces he just came from seeing Amy Gardner. C.J. asks how it went. Josh: "Well, I showed her who's boss." C.J.: "Who'd it turn out to be?" Josh, hesitantly: "It's...still unclear." Josh asks her about the UN treaty: "If we have to make a to-do about it being forced prostitution, isn't there a chance it can be spun that we're condoning prostitution?" C.J. says that will definitely happen. Josh realizes Amy will make it happen: "Well, this is a whole new thing, then." Toby arrives, saying, "Leo told me." For all those who are always worrying about C.J. being kept out of the loop, notice that she knew about the mad cow thing before any other staffer under Leo. C.J. and Toby drop the mad cow bomb on Josh. After Josh takes it in, he says that since the door's closed, he guesses it's being kept under cover. Toby says that's what they're supposed to talk about. Josh asks what they think. C.J replies, "You know we have an extra $1.5 billion we weren't counting on?" Toby: "What?" C.J.: "There's an extra $1.5 billion. In Qumar, when a woman gets raped, she'll generally get beaten by her husband and sons as a punishment, so at some point we should talk about how to spend the $1.5 billion they're giving us." Toby and Josh say nothing. C.J. sits down and folds her hands and says, "So, should we tell anybody?" I spend the commercials wondering what on God's green earth the money from the arms deal with the mythical country of Qumar has to do with when or if they inform the American public about the threat of BSE in their Whoppers. I fully understand that C.J. wants to express her outrage, but I don't think, given what we know of her character, that she would choose to do it in such an awkward way. It makes about as much sense as me picking up my dry cleaning and giving the clerk a lecture about back-alley abortions, apropos of nothing.
POTUS and Leo are meeting with a bunch of people over the issue of unfunded mandates. Leo's turn to play Exposition Fairy, since I'm fairly sure Jed would know this already: "This is where the federal government forces localities to do stuff but isn't at all interested in paying the bill." Some politician named Segal is upset about the 13,800 hours of work and $176,000 spent by a small town in Virginia on complying with the Americans with Disabilities Act. Jed asks if employees in wheelchairs are supposed to work in the parking lot, and wonders how much it would cost the federal government to amend the Unfunded Mandates Reform Act to cover all unfunded mandates. One staffer believes it would be tens of billions. Jed suggests, "Let's find out for sure and then tell Segal to sit down and shut up." Leo dismisses the meeting. Everyone leaves.
Leo closes the door. POTUS asks Leo to "paint a picture" for him. Leo sits down and says, "We find the source of the problem, which will be the feed. We buy the cattle and we slaughter them." Jed wonders how many. Leo says it would be tens of thousands. Jed says that's just live cattle, and wonders about the beef. Leo says there'd be a major recall, but it's not like they'd need to bother: "Nobody's going to buy beef for a couple of years." Jed: "It's a $150 billion industry. What's the west going to do for an industry?" Manufacture arms for various and sundry totalitarian regimes? Leo says this generation of ranchers would be finished; they'd never get back on their feet. Jed says people have known about mad cow disease for ages, and they're still eating beef in record numbers. May I just interject here that I'm surprised, with Sorkin's love of jargon, scientific references, and interesting and unusual words, that we haven't yet heard the words "Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy" or "Creutzfeld-Jacob Disease"? I'm not complaining, I'm just saying. Leo says it's because it's always been on the other side of the ocean: "Once we announce a positive, steak houses are done. Fast food is done." Jed adds, "And then the corn and soybean growers, right?" Leo says the dominoes don't end on this. Jed: "Any good news?" Leo: "For fishermen." Jed spins a scenario: "So we've got frightened parents, rising food prices, public panic, massive layoffs...and something we've never worried about before: we're wondering when the case is going to happen." As several people have pointed out, this is one of the first few episodes written following September 11th; some have suggested that mad cow is a metaphor for the anthrax attacks and scares. I think it might also just be a metaphor for terrorism in general. In any event, one might normally find this is a bit anvilicious, but after "Isaac and Ishmael," this is reasonably subtle.
Jed continues, "The most costly disruptions..." Leo: "Yeah?" Jed: "...always happen when something we take completely for granted stops working for a minute." Leo: "Yeah." Jed sighs and ends the confab. As they get up, Jed asks if Leo knows when they passed the Clean Water Act." He is chagrined to find that Leo doesn't: "How could you not know that?" Leo replies, "My water's clean, I don't ask questions." Jed: "What did I just say?" Leo says he wasn't really listening. They leave the Oval Office, where Jed runs into Charlie, who's studying, and starts bugging him. He hangs around Charlie's desk, pretending to consult documents, assuring Charlie there's nothing he needs. He is, of course, looking over Charlie's shoulder surreptitiously. Or maybe not so much. He finally says, "You know, Charlie, history can't be reduced to dates and names." Charlie: "Well, I'm pretty sure this final can." Jed: "Naaah. I'm starting you out with a copy of the speech George Perkins Marsh used in 1845 to rouse the agricultural community of Rutland, Vermont. And then you're going to need to study on the word 'ecology' as coined by the German biologist, Ernst Haeckel." Charlie: "Am I being punished for something?" Jed doesn't seem to hear this as he wanders back into his office, calling out, "It's better in the original German, of course, but obviously the translation will be fine." He closes the door. Charlie sighs the word, "Good," in exactly the way I have heard Professor Frink do many times.
Sam meets with two guys about the seatbelt thing. On the way to Sam's office, one says he has a funny joke POTUS can do about telling people not to wear their seatbelts. Sam insists that POTUS never said that. The guy persists, "He should say, 'Maybe I should go back to concealing my health.'" Oh, har. We'll call him Joke Guy. Sam says humourlessly, "That's a good one. Maybe he can use it at the Rotary Club." The other guy says that Josh Lyman shouldn't make jokes about Rotarians: "They're good people." They reach Sam's office. Sam says Josh feels bad about that. Guy Number Two (we'll call him the Rotarian) tells us about the generosity of Rotarians with their time, and Sam says that Josh is going to apologize. The guy also says he and his dad are Rotarians. Sam: "My dad's an Elk." I very much doubt that for some reason. The Rotarian, weakly: "Elks are okay." Sam says he wanted to float the idea of a national seatbelt law: "What's the Democratic Leadership going to say?" Joke Guy says the Democratic Leadership doesn't do damage control for POTUS. Sam thinks it's about a lot more than damage control: "Only 68 percent of drivers are wearing their seat belts; we get that up to 90 percent and we save five thousand lives a year." ["Just a quick sidebar here: I can't BELIEVE the percentage is that low. It takes, literally, three seconds to put a seatbelt on, it's the law in most states, and it could save your life. What's the problem? My parents would not start the car until they'd heard us put ours on; I never ever drive or ride in a car without a seatbelt. Of course, my car doesn't have an airbag because it's older than God so I really need the seatbelt, but that isn't the point. People, really. If you don't wear a seatbelt now, start. Yes, 'in cabs too.' Okay, PSA over." -- Sars] Joke Guy says that if they can get kids to eat their spinach, they'll be as strong as Popeye. The Rotarian says they've done food drives, driver safety, physical fitness...Sam wonders: "Who?" The Rotarian: "The Rotary Club." So we've established that this guy pretty much has a one-track mind. Sam assures this guy -- whose name is Tom, we now find out -- that Josh really is going to apologize. He also says that secondary seatbelt laws don't work; people can only be fined if they're stopped for something else: "Isn't it time for a tough law?" Joke Guy: "To make up for a bonehead comment at a fundraiser?" Tom says the governors don't like it, and calls it "federalism run amok." There's another thing you can put on my tombstone: "It's 'amok,' not 'amuck,' for God's sake!" Sam says governors don't have a vote in Congress. Tom says that congressmen do, and they won't vote for it, either. Sam says okay, and that it's a shorter meeting than he thought it was going to be. Tom and Joke Guy stand up; Tom says, "You won't catch a Rotarian not wearing his seatbelt. An Elk, maybe." Sam says, "Could you grind that axe out in the hall? I need to get some work done here." No, actually he doesn't.
Donna enters Josh's office to give him a message from Leo's office: "The OMB's gonna do a quick report on expanding unfunded mandates and it doesn't mean anything but they're doing it anyway." Josh: "My tax dollars hard at work." Donna plops a pile of files on his desk. She says she'll be at her desk. As she leaves, Josh says, "Say Donna, you've worked as a prostitute..." Donna replies, "Only here." No, she doesn't, but she sure missed a golden opportunity. Which reminds me of one of my favourite T-shirts (which I once saw on a sex trade worker): A picture of Margaret Thatcher with the slogan, "We are all prostitutes." Donna actually just says, "Yeah?" Josh says, "Let's just say." She agrees to play along. He asks, "Why should what you do be against the law?" Donna says that in this country you're not allowed to buy and sell people. Josh says, "You're not selling yourself, you're renting out your body." Well, that's one way of looking at it. Many sex trade workers see it as providing a service, not supplying a receptacle. Donna says "You're not allowed to do that either." Um, hello? It should be against the law because you're not allowed to do it? That's an argument? Josh thinks that's exactly what fashion models do. Donna says that's different. Josh, as the only person in either debate he's had on this so far who seems to be able to keep track of a point, asserts, "It's only different because we say it's different." Word, dude. If I had another week of my life to spend on this subject, I'd write y'all a big old paper on the gobsmacking hypocrisy surrounding sex and particularly sex trade work, but I too have a life of sorts to lead. He continues, "When you get a massage, isn't it just a matter of degrees?" Donna: "Lots of things are just a matter of degrees." Well, that's certainly true. And? Josh: "Wouldn't legalizing prostitution allow women to unionize and get access to social services and health care benefits and get some control over the industry?" Perhaps, although most sex trade activists are pushing for decriminalization of prostitution over legalization. I don't really have time or space here to go into all the fine points, but you've got a computer in front of you. Go Google. (Although watch out for writers who don't seem to understand the difference between legalization and decriminalization.) Take my word for it, most serious prostitution activists are less crazy about the idea of legalization than decriminalization, the primary reason being that legalization would mean the whole thing would be licensed, managed, and orchestrated by the government. Few prostitute activists see this as all that delightful an alternative to the present scheme. ["As my dad likes to say, give something to the federal government to run and you're guaranteed mediocrity." -- Sars] Anyway, Donna says, "You think if you make prostitution legal, then prostitutes are going to suddenly want everyone to know they're prostitutes?" Oy gevalt, people. First of all, this question totally ignores the distinct possibility that either legalization or decriminalization would remove a considerable amount of the stigma associated with sex trade work, a stigma which has two primary parts: the sexual aspect, and the criminal aspect. Second, how does this address Josh's point? Certainly, because of our society's present hang-ups and hypocrisy about sex, a stigma would probably persist. But I doubt it would be so bad as to keep sex trade workers away in droves from benefits, health care, and fair access to methods of legal redress for crimes committed against them, most of which they do not currently enjoy. Josh says, "Hmm." Donna: "What?" Josh: "The rare valid point." Well, valid points are indeed rare in these two debates, but I really don't think that was one of them. Again, despite Josh's arguments being (as far as I am concerned) stronger, the scene is set up so as to seem as though he's been bested by his sparring partner, in this case Donna. She says, "I'll be back on my street corner." And I'll be here in my non-Aeron chair, tearing my hair out.
Toby enters the Mural Room, saying, "Okay, round two. I'm Toby Ziegler. I'll be your referee." The youngest of the three men in the room introduces himself as Barney Lang, National Commander. He introduces the other two gentlemen, who are quite elderly (obviously, since they served in World War II), as Ed Ramsey and Ronald Cruikshank. Hey, Ronald is played by Will Geer -- Grandpa Walton! Wait, nope, it ain't him. But I sure was fooled for a moment, until I remembered that Will Geer died over twenty years ago. I would just like to point out if he was alive, though, Will Geer would be ninety-nine years old -- which I think would make him the oldest actor ever to appear on this show. This is brought to you by the letter L and the number 8. Barney says that Ronald and Ed are regional directors. Toby welcomes them all to the White House. Ronald says he's been before; his unit was invited by Franklin Roosevelt. Ronald points to a chair and informs Toby, "That chair used to be over there." Helluva memory. Probably gingko biloba. Befor
e they start, Barney wants to ask Toby a favour: he's got a veteran buddy, a guy who lost a leg, whose wheelchair is falling apart -- they've been making do with duct tape -- and Medicaid is dragging its feet. (Shouldn't VA be of some help here? ["HA HA HA! Hee hee. 'VA be of some help.' Ohhh, that's a good one." -- Sars]) Toby says he'll make a phone call for him. Barney thanks him. Toby asks Ronald and Ed to tell him the one point they find most offensive and would like to see pulled from the exhibit. Ed says there are several; Toby wants to know what's on the top of the list. Barney interjects, "Sections that have the overreaching message of a vengeful America and a victimized Japan." Toby says you don't want to ignore the effects of the bomb. Ed says they don't want to ignore facts, but in this particular case, they don't agree with the museum's version of the facts. Ed says the museum claims that 63,000 American lives would have been lost if they'd invaded. Behind Toby, C.J. slips quietly into the room, unnoticed by Toby. Ed adds that Marshall told Truman that a ground offensive would take the lives of at least 250,000 people. Toby says there's some evidence of that, but that there are also estimates that say 150,000, and some say 268,000. C.J. pipes up, "There are discrepancies." Toby's surprised: "I didn't see you there." He introduces her. Obviously he's not expecting her, and he asks if she needs anything. She says she just came by to listen.Everyone's still standing. Toby says he wants to have the veterans meet with the people from the Smithsonian, and he'd like to do it today. They're fine with that. Toby tells them to stay by a phone and kind of moves to end the meeting, but C.J. asks if she can interrupt. I already have a feeling that this is not going in a good direction. C.J. mentions to Ed that she understands he fought in the Battle of the Bulge. He describes the moment they beat the Germans on the Western front. C.J. sits down, saying, "That was a hell of a moment." Toby seems puzzled that the meeting is not ending, but rolls with it and sits down with quiet trepidation. Ed says, "I have a granddaughter like you; she's a chemist." C.J. wonders if she can ask them to imagine something. Basically, over their objections that it could never have happened, she asks them to imagine that things had gone differently, that Germany had been able to hang on to France and possibly Italy and certainly been able to defend Germany. Toby is listening, wondering where this is going. C.J. continues, "Now, it's six decades later, and while they didn't conquer Europe, the Nazis exist as a recognized government in some small corner of the European Union." Ed says, "That would never have happened." C.J.: "Really?" Ed says they killed a quarter of his unit and a third of his high school classmates, and they would never have allowed it. C.J. replies with a shrug, "We did it in Cambodia."
Toby springs to life: "C.J., knock it off." He looks very uncomfortable. She ignores him and continues, "You're protesting because you think the Smithsonian isn't paying proper respect to what you and the soldiers of the Tenth Armored, Third Army risked and lost your lives for six decades ago. How would you feel in the hypothetical I just described, if I told you that in my press briefing at the end of the day, I was announcing we were selling tanks, missiles and fighter jets to the Nazis?" The vets are mystified; Toby's pissed. Toby gets up and says, "Excuse me," to the guests, and "Step outside," to C.J. She follows him out, and before he can say more than "Look..." she says, "You know, if I was living in Qumar, I wouldn't be allowed to say 'Shove it up your ass, Toby,' but since I'm not: Shove it up your ass, Toby!" She huffs off down the hall as Toby watches her. Well, I guess during the commercials I will think about the numerous ways in which that was totally inappropriate.
Sam pedeconferences with POTUS, who attempts to make a joke so lame I can't even bring myself to recount it. It has to do with dry cleaners and lawyers. Jed knows it's weak, and suggests there's probably a better joke in there. Sam: "Probably not." They enter the Oval Office as Jed declares, "Doctrine of Sovereign Immunity: you can't sue the king. Brought that over from England." Sam points out that he's not immune to (Sam says "immune from," but "to" just sounds much better here) the court of public opinion. Jed says they forgot to bring that one over. Sam says that the RNC will have a press conference. Jed retorts, "The RNC has a press conference when I sneeze." Sam thinks they need to come out for a strong national seatbelt law. Mainly, I guess, because it's Sam's job now to champion causes that no one else on the staff cares about. Jed says Congress won't pass it. Sam's not saying they have to actually have the law, just come out for it: "It'll end the question of where you stand." Jed says people know where he stands, and if they don't, they can ask him. Sam points out that he was the governor of New Hampshire. Jed says he was for it then, and he didn't do anything about it because nobody wanted it. Sam says C.J. will get asked about it at the 5:00 briefing. Jed's losing patience: "I can't be responsible every time somebody irrationally twists my meaning. People are responsible for themselves." A mighty big word to that. He continues, pointing out that today's cars are safer than ever, and that all that's left is personal behaviour and bad luck: "And I'm not responsible for either one. And Sam, if Mrs. Landingham was here right now, she'd say the exact same thing. You know what I'm saying?" Sam says, "Yes, sir." Jed says, "I don't blame this woman for suing me. I'm not a king. And I'm not sure the law should treat me like one, though certainly for the moment I don't mind. I'm not blaming her: she's got to go someplace with her grief and anger. The ones who should be horsewhipped with a horsewhip are the ones exploiting her grief for political gain and I'm not getting down with those guys." Sam acquiesces. Jed says, "Let Congress pass that law. I'll sign it." Just then, Charlie indicates that Toby and Josh have arrived; Sam leaves and Jed tells Charlie to get Leo.
When Toby and Josh come in, Jed asks, "Isn't there a joke to be had with lawsuits and dry cleaners?" Other than being taken to said cleaners? And what's with the dry cleaning fixation? Jed adds, "I've been working on it all day." Josh, mock-nervously: "You've been working on other stuff though, too, right?" C.J. and Leo arrive. Jed asks when they should tell the public what they know; C.J. argues for right now. Toby says he thinks absolute confirmation has to be the rule when public panic is at stake. Josh asks, "Are we sure there's going to be public panic if we're only saying there's a chance? We think, maybe, usually it's negative..." Toby: "I do. 'Cause we're not talking about sushi: it's hamburgers. And I'm not kidding around. It's these things, the everyday things, the everyday American things, the ninety-nine-cent things, that when you suddenly have to be afraid of them strike at the centre of our equilibrium." You know, for whatever faults this episode has, and opinion on the forums seems sharply if not evenly divided, it's a hell of an improvement over "Isaac and Ishmael" in terms of addressing the aftermath of the terrorist attacks in the United States. I wish they had just gone ahead with the season as planned. It's so much better to have this stuff worked in slowly and in a variety of ways, including metaphorically. Anyway. Leo adds that the beef industry isn't especially in love with Democrats in the first place, and they'll be "killed for causing false panic." C.J. says, "Yeah. What we say now is going to be measured against the facts, the consequences of which will be far worse if we don't say anything and it goes the other way." Toby quickly says, "I disagree." C.J.: "Then pretend for the moment the cow has MS." Um. Everyone looks at her. Toby tosses her a glare and replies, "No, I don't think I will." Jed asks, "Something going on with them?" Leo says, "I think they can hear you. They're standing right in front of you." C.J. sighs, "That was a bad analogy. I apologize. What I meant was, that the public will not forgive a President who withheld information that could have helped them or saved lives. Second, in a crisis, people need to feel like soldiers, not victims. Third, information breeds confidence. Silence breeds fear. That's my argument." And one of the few cogent arguments in the whole episode. Josh and Leo look at Jed. POTUS says, "If it comes from the President..." Toby says it shouldn't come from POTUS; Leo says it shouldn't even come from the White House. Josh says it should come from Health and Human Services. Leo says it should be somebody mid-level, not the Secretary. Jed decides that's what they will do.
Josh meets Amy coming out of her gym. She, of course, does not look particularly sweaty or sloppy. She asks what he's doing there; he says her office told him she was there. As they walk, he says, "Eleanor Roosevelt once made a speech to the U.N. General Assembly saying we should decriminalize prostitution." There's the magic word. Amy's response: "Eleanor Roosevelt was the one who liked hats, right?" Oh, excellent point. But he just kind of gives her a goofy smile and continues: "The Undersecretary for Global Affairs and Regina Pierce are going to sit with our legal advisor at the U.N. and look at some alternative language." She says she heard. They exchange some filler comments like "So" and "Indeed." She suddenly asks, with more of a note of irritation than flirtation: "Are you walking me back to my office?" He suddenly asks, "How is making prostitution illegal not suppressing women's rights?" Her retort: "How is making heroin use illegal not suppressing a heroin user's rights?" Well, I think there are more ways in which those two situations are not analogous than otherwise, but dear God, this is already one of my longest recaps ever and I don't need Sars to hate me forever. ["Girl, please. Take out my asides and it's eight pages." -- Sars] Josh says, "It is, but heroin's bad for you." She says, "So's being a prostitute." Why is this supposed to be so self-evident that she doesn't have to provide proof? There has been formally organized pro-sex trade activism in this continent for almost thirty years, if not more, and no doubt such activists have had an uphill battle to achieve recognition for their goals and views, but it's not exactly a state secret that such groups exist. I suppose it would come as a great shock to Amy and her ilk, but there is significant feminist support for consensual sex trade work. Their voices are almost completely absent from this debate. Josh bursts out, "How am I not supposed to call you a hypocrite when you say the government shouldn't tell women what to do with their bodies?" Amy, smugly: "Exercise some self-control, I guess." As they walk alongside a lovely fountain, she declares, "Prostitution is about the subjugation of women by men for profit." Well, that doesn't really account for what male prostitution, heterosexual or homosexual or any-other-sexual you care to name, is about. Male prostitution is not a tiny, insignificant fraction of all sex trade work, and if prostitution by its nature is so oppressive, shouldn't there be a great hue and cry on behalf of its many male "victims" too? It also fails to account for the fact -- yes, I say fact -- that many sex trade workers have written in books and pamphlets and testified at conferences and in courtrooms that they generally enjoy their work, and that for some of them, there is other than purely financial motive. But all this takes the wind out of Amy's self-righteous sails and we won't hear anything about it.
Anyway, Josh says the profit goes to women. Well, ideally. That's something decriminalization would help with in a big way. Amy says, "In some cases, but I know of no little girl, and neither do you, who says, 'I want to be a prostitute when I grow up.'" Amy really needs to speak to some sex trade workers. I have read accounts from them which state exactly that. She claims they do it because they're forced to by financial circumstances, and dire economic need is a form of coercion. It's certainly the case that sex trade work is one of the most lucrative professions for any woman, particularly with a lack of advanced education, but perhaps instead of fighting consensual prostitution (which I think is a losing battle anyway), Amy's energies and leverage would be better used working for better educational opportunities and wider career options for women. Josh points out that a guy who breaks into his apartment and steals his stereo does it for the same reason. Amy adds, "And he's going to jail." Which is where women and men who participate in consensual sex trade work belong? Josh says it's because he broke into his apartment and stole his stereo, and nobody wants that to happen to them: "But you can't say that about the other thing." Amy: "J..."
Now they're suddenly coming out of the elevator in her building. Josh: "Forget for a second that it's a women's issue. The law isn't a deterrent. Prostitutes advertise in the Yellow Pages." Amy: "J..." Josh: "Aren't we just serving to create more criminals in a criminal environment?" Amy: "Josh. Why did you come here?" He stutters a reply: "To tell you about the thing." Amy: "The U.N.?" She heard. He didn't know. She wonders why he didn't just call. He points out that her office is on the way home. She states it's 5:00, and incredulously wonders if he really goes home at 5:00. We're all incredulous at that idea. Personally, I wonder if he goes home at all. His stereo could have been stolen days ago, and he would have yet to find out about it. Anyway, this is getting a little tortured, as she tries to elicit his obvious ulterior motive. He says he just stopped by. Amy asks in a carefully nonchalant way: "Are you dating your assistant?" Josh says no. (Sorry to disappoint all of you who like to imagine that Josh and Donna are secretly carrying on.) Amy continues, "I heard you might be." Josh: "I'm not." Amy: "She's cute." Josh: "She's my assistant." Thank God for common sense. He may be somewhat emotionally immature, but he's not stupid. Then she asks if he's dating Joey Lucas, saying Joey's not his assistant. Josh knows. Amy says, "You know the thing...with guys like you?" Josh wonders why they're talking about this; Amy claims it's because he stopped by. Josh: "I'm a visible guy." He says people say things and write things about him, and what he does reflects on POTUS. She remarks, "Nice save." Josh: "I didn't make that up." He asks, "What's the thing about guys like me?" They make googly eyes at each other (goofy smiles, tilted heads) and she doesn't seem to take in the question, so he repeats it. She replies, "You want to get hit over the head." She says it like a question, but I'm pretty sure it's meant to be a statement. He says he has to go. These two do have chemistry, and they seem to be at exactly the same maturity level, so they'd probably be a good pair. She says, "See ya," as he walks out.
Outside, Josh is walking away and trying to hail a cab when suddenly he narrowly misses being hit by a water balloon. He looks down, saying, "What the hell?" and then looks up, only to see Amy hanging over the balcony outside her office. She calls out that it was a water balloon. Josh: "What are you, fifteen years old? You almost hit me in the head!" She just stands there while it sinks in to Josh. She waves and goes back into the building. She might want to learn a little bit about PTSD. I mean, maybe he's got it under control, but do you think Donna would ever do something like that? I think not. Josh wanders away, resolving to get Sam to get Ginger to find out if Amy likes him after seventh period.
We hear Carol's voice urging people into their seats in the Briefing Room. We see C.J. walking down the hall, pinning her hair up. She hardly ever wears it up, but I like it. She enters her office to find Nancy McNally waiting for her. Right away, you know this scene is going to be very watchable, if for no other reason than that Allison Janney and Anna Deavere Smith both kick ass into the millennium. C.J. says hi. Nancy doesn't seem to be in a good mood, and cuts right to the chase: "I understand you're troubled by the arms sale? The Nazis were a bad analogy. We're not fighting a war with Qumar." C.J.: "Well...this isn't the point, but we will. Of course we will. Of course we will be fighting a war with Qumar someday and you know it, so...well, at least we'll be familiar with the weapons they're using." Nancy says they need Khalifah Air Base; they refuel there and they keep AWACS radar there. C.J. replies, "We don't need it. It's convenient." She says they've got Turkey, Bahrain, Diego Garcia, and Qumar is just convenient. Nancy acknowledges that it's convenient. C.J.: "They beat women, Nancy. They hate women. The only reason they keep Qumari women alive is to make more Qumari men." Sort of like in China, where the one-child policy and cultural biases for male children result in widespread sex-selective abortion, abandonment, and even infanticide of female children? China, which, because of this, is facing a "nightmarish" male/female population imbalance? China, the same country with which this administration has worried over its relationship, the country the staffers were concerned about alienating when they were trying to help the religious refugees in "Shibboleth"?
Nancy wants to know what C.J. wants her to do about it. C.J.: "How about instead of suggesting that we sell the guns to them, suggesting that we shoot the guns at them?" Well, if the U.S. is going to take military action against misogynist countries for that reason -- and while I sympathize 1000 percent with the impulse, I tend to believe that the master's tools don't dismantle the master's house, and that violence begets violence -- perhaps it better finish cleaning up its own house first. C.J. carries on, getting more emotional and her voice getting louder: "And by the way, not to change the subject, but how are we supposed to have any moral credibility when we talk about gun control, and making sure that guns don't get in the hands of the wrong people? God, Nancy, what the hell are we defining as the 'right' people?" Nancy says it's the real world and they can't isolate their enemies. C.J.: "I know about the real world and I'm not suggesting we isolate them." Nancy: "You're suggesting we eliminate them." C.J. grabs her stuff and says she has a briefing, and walks out.
Nancy follows, saying, "You're suggesting..." C.J.: "I'm not suggesting anything. I don't suggest foreign policy around here." As they walk together, Nancy says, "You are right now." C.J.: "It's the twenty-first century, Nancy. The world's gotten smaller. I don't know how we can tolerate this kind of suffering anymore, particularly when all it does is continue the cycle of anti-American hatred. But that's not the point either." Nancy stops, asking, "What's the point?" C.J. stops and replies, "The point is that apartheid was an East Hampton clambake compared to what we laughingly refer to as the 'life' these women lead." I'm not so sure that isn't a serious overstatement; apartheid was hideous, violent, soul-crushing, and devastating, too. C.J. adds, "And if we had sold M1-A1s to South Africa fifteen years ago, you'd have set the building on fire. Thank God we never needed to refuel at Johannesburg!" Man, you should see the scary expressions on C.J.'s face in the freeze-frames for this scene. Nancy is completely unrattled by all of this, and regards C.J. with her head cocked and a studious expression. She says mildly, "It's a big world, C.J., and everybody has guns, and I'm doing the best I can." C.J. is almost in tears: "They're beating...the women, Nancy." Nancy's said all she's got to say, and I guess she can tell that C.J. isn't going to say anything at this point that she hasn't already heard. She walks away without another word. C.J. puts her hand to her forehead and collects herself before entering the Briefing Room.
She's bright and professional in front of the reporters. She mentions that there are two birthdays today, and they have a cake: "One cake: it's nice to share." She tells them that POTUS will be at the Smithsonian opening, and that there will be other briefings today, including one at the Department of Health and Human Services with the Director of the USDA. She mentions this as casually as possible. C.J. also states that the DOD will be announcing the ten-year renewal of its lease of Khalifah Air Base in Qumar. She betrays no emotion upon making this announcement, and even makes a wee joke: "I understand they've promised to paint and add new carpet." She starts another announcement when she notices Toby watching from the back of the room and breaks off. He quickly puts one hand flat over the middle of his chest and then the other one flat over that; the upper parts of his hand flutter slightly away from his chest and then he puts his hands down again. He makes an even more subtle gesture with his mouth. The whole thing is quite amazing: it seems to be apology, sympathy, sheepishness, and gratitude wrapped up in one. As I have said before, and will no doubt have occasion to say again, Richard Schiff is the master of the small, subtle gesture. She quickly recovers as she watches him and carries on with the press conference, stating that the State Department and the U.N. will be working on the language for the treaty on sexual trafficking. Then she asks, "Who's got questions?"