The Women of Qumar

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."

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 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.

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. Before 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."