Eppur Si Muove

Previously: C.J.'s mysterious Ben finally paid a visit, now that he's not married anymore. Abby dropped the bomb on C.J. that she's going to be volunteering at a free clinic, and offered a reminder that she didn't lose her license so much as take a voluntary hiatus from practicing. C.J. presumably celebrated this wonderful news with an extra-large shot of Pepto.

The title card informs us that the episode is called "Eppur Si Muove," because God knows there's no point in using a straightforward title when you can use one that makes the audience feel inadequate before a line of dialogue is even spoken. We fade in on a dark lab at the Center For Applied Squinting At Stuff By The Glow Of Your Computer Screen, where a scientist we will come to know as Dr. Foy is filling his assistant in on the results of an HPV study. Oh, wait, it's actually the "John Hopkins University Medical Research Lab." You know, that one Medical Research Lab that they have there at Johns Hopkins. The Scruffy Assistant goes to answer the phone, and he soon returns to tell Dr. Foy that Congressman Bentley's office is on the phone about a review of one of Foy's NIH grants. This gets Foy up off the chair and stumbling through the highly cinematic darkness toward the phone. They do love them some dim lighting on this show. Foy puts the guy on speakerphone for plot purposes, and we hear the mysterious Phone Voice begin to impugn the value of the project, which studies HPV in Puerto Rican sex workers. Foy writes a note which he holds up to Scruffy Assistant, and Scruffy Assistant nods and walks off. As the conversation turns political -- is Foy a registered Democrat, blah blah blah -- Scruffy Assistant goes and fetches the fetching young woman hard at work in a different corner of the Darkest Lab Ever, who turns out to be the one and only Ellie Bartlet. Scruffy Assistant tells Ellie that Foy needs her -- probably to hold a flashlight for him. In case you didn't know that this fetching young woman is Ellie Bartlet, there is a slow pan over to her graduation picture with Jed and Abby. The graduation photo, by the way, shows Ellie in a plain black gown and mortarboard, which makes it seem like that should be a graduation no more recent than college, so I'd think Jed should look a bit younger. But I nitpick. Oh, and the guy on the phone demands that Foy tell him who he voted for. Because that's some nuanced political maneuvering. Bring on the exploding cigars!

We move to Toby's office, where he and C.J. are discussing whether this call -- which Ellie has apparently reported -- had anything to do with Ellie herself. After all, Jed never talks about Ellie's work in the lab, and somebody could just be acting assy to scientists in general. I do it all the time; I hate those people, with their Bunsen burners and their test tubes and their discovering how to cure diseases. "Tell me this is nothing to worry about," says C.J.. "This is nothing to worry about," Toby predictably answers. Because Sorkin no longer writes the show, this conversation does not proceed as follows: "Because I would want you to tell me if there was something to worry about." "And I would tell you if there was something to worry about." "But you're telling me there's nothing to worry about." "I am." "Then I won't worry about anything." "As suggested by me, in my now-famous 'there is nothing to worry about' speech." Instead, C.J. just says, "Toby." What fun is that? That's not going to get the script up to four hundred pages, you know, and production isn't going to delay itself. Toby asks which Congressman it was. "Bentley," says C.J.. Toby points out that there are simply too many coincidences for him to believe it's not an attack. "Somebody's out for blood, and they're targeting Ellie Bartlet!" says Toby. Wow, could that line be any more unlikely? "Ellie," maybe, but "Ellie Bartlet"? Whatever. What you have there is a blatant take-me-to-the-credits line, pure hack scripting.

And...credits. Hey, if you're going to be a hack, at least be an accurate hack.

We return to find Carol and C.J. walking down the hall together, Carol all a-bubble about Ben's impending arrival. He'll be in at 1:00, and Carol got "the back table at 1789" (which I had never heard of, but have now educated myself is "Georgetown's Premier Food and Wine Experience," according to its totally unbiased website), and Carol told Ben to wear the painter's pants so that C.J. doesn't jump him, and adds that Ben has a meeting at 3:00. C.J. wearily calls this "nice work." Carol opines that the painter's pants must be pretty bad if they'll keep C.J. from jumping Ben. Inside her office, C.J. finds Toby waiting, and asks if this means he felt better about the Ellie thing after he slept on it. Nope -- he feels worse. I know the feeling. That's what I say about margaritas the day after I drink them. C.J. says that Jed would never send money Ellie's way on purpose, given that he was a big stingy-pants about her allowance when she was growing up. Heh. Toby points out that it's not necessarily that Jed would be rigging the process, but that somebody else was, because they were trying to score points with Jed. Toby then remarks, mildly befuddled, "This conversation would be a whole lot easier were I not fighting my way through a cloud of Obsession." C.J. insists that there's no cloud, and Toby makes a lame "precipitation" joke. Toby agrees to get a breakdown of the Foy funding situation, and C.J. says they can just hope there's been no boost since Ellie started working there. Toby also mentions how much he is not looking forward to discussing this with POTUS, given Jed's notorious fits of temper where his daughters are concerned.

In the cafeteria, Josh is hanging with a buddy, all, "What did you think of the Lawrence opinion?" Wow, look at them all using a real case and everything. To save any unnecessary research into what the opinion actually says, the writers have the guy immediately change the subject by asking Josh if he's "keeping track of the Court these days." But -- but -- he went to law school, he works for the president...why the hell would Josh not be keeping track of the Court? That's stupid. Anyway, Josh says that he is following the Court, "when [he's] not color-coding the president's M&Ms." "Still smarting I had to carry your ass through con law?" the guy asks, by way of establishing that he went to law school with Josh. Clever! I don't know why they don't extend the incredibly helpful title cards and just do a kind of John Madden tele-strator thing where they would draw an arrow pointing at the guy's head and write, "Josh's Friend From Law School." Banter about "strict scrutiny" as a pickup method follows (wow, har har) and we learn that Josh tried to pick up on the woman that this guy later married. But there's no time for expository reminiscing now, because we must move on to the B-plot. On the actual agenda: Georgetown has offered Mr. Josh's Girlfriend the deanship of the law school. "That's great, but...aren't you a judicial nominee for the Sixth Circuit?" says Josh. He agrees that he is, but points out that he has been in that same position for a year. Josh says that Mr. Josh's Girlfriend knew confirmation would be tough, and Mr. J-G points out that it's not the battle he resents -- it's the "gag order." He can't publish anything, and he can't even debate cases with students. Moreover, there's been an oppressive ongoing investigation interfering in his life for the past year. Although, for the second time in the scene, he says "twelve months" instead of a year. Who does that? Josh says in his usual, non-comforting, vaguely fuck-you-ish platitude voice that it takes time. "Come on, the Republicans have been blocking your nominations since Bartlet took office," Mr. J-G explains to the stupid people in the audience. Josh encourages Mr. J-G not to drop out and "close this door." Mr. J-G says he thinks the door was never really open. Josh asks when Georgetown needs an answer, and when Mr. J-G says they have to know by the end of the week, Josh says to give him till then. "To do what?" Mr. J-G asks. Josh: "To...fix it." My favorite part of that scene is that there's a lame-looking flower in the middle of the table between them the entire time that looks like it could squirt water in someone's eye at any moment. I only wish.