Twin Peaks
Episode Eleven

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Mr. Holland's Opus

Hey, um, you guys? Is it me, or is Donna losing weight? BWAH HA HA HA. Ahem. Sorry. Over at the Double R, Our Lady Of The Perpetual Non-Political Fast chats it up obligatorily (is that even a word? All of my MS Word red squiggles were used up in my recapping of botched French phonetics, so I'm pretty much proofreading on the fly here) chats it up with Hank while waiting for her meals (not for her. Oh, no, they're not) for the route. She tells Hank she's having lunch with someone on her route. He replies in an ambiguously evil fashion (and I bother to qualify that WHY, exactly?), asking me to agree with him -- and succeeding -- for the first time ever: "With bedpans and shut-ins, who's to meet?" And while I wasn't entirely aware that "bedpans" was a character description (that IS what he means, right?), I still have to agree with him on the rest of it. But Donna tells him that he wouldn't understand and huffs off. Sucker. But just at this moment, Norma hangs up the phone behind the counter and excitedly informs Hank, "M.T. Wentz is coming to Twin Peaks!" Hank makes like the dumb hillbilly he's so clearly not in his confounded reply, "Empty who?" Norma tut-tuts Hank's lack of knowledge about this man, "the most powerful restaurant critic in the state." Hank in turn tells her that they still have time to pretty the place up before this contrived waste of a forgettable plot arc -- er, I mean "restaurant critic" -- arrives at the diner. Because I so know that the most famous food critic in the state (and even to begin with, what the hell does that mean?) is landing at the Great Northern and heading to the first rusticated, hash-slinging greasy spoon on the map and jotting down comments on last year's copy of his Zagat's Guide: Middle Of Freakin' Nowhere such as "they serve coffee. They do not serve no coffee," just as the case was when my childhood neighborhood was turned upside-down by the arrival of a famous restaurant reviewer who spent an afternoon lingering over the "La Hamburger Avec Fromage Et Pommes Frites" with a tall, cool glass of "La Coca" at the Nautilus Diner in Massapequa, Long Island. Oh, the times we had. Hank runs out of the diner, telling Norma he's going to buy candles and flowers and tablecloths, hilariously (ahem) telling her that they're going to "trip this place out like Christmas on the Fourth of July." And then, ambiguously, evilly, he tells her to call Big Ed and let him know that any strangers coming though town for gas should be pointed in the direction of the Double R. She tells him she will do so. I kind of forgot they even knew each other, but Norma's dour aspect suggests otherwise.

Donna "Faster Than Fast" Hayward and Ed "Grimmer Than" Grimley sip wine at his house in the hills. They decide to drink to Laura, and toast accordingly. And then, because the conversational tactic that is the "segue" has not made its way into the lexicon of the socially bereft shut-in (I don't even know how I can be making fun of him. Toss a PC and a television set into Harold Smith's house and his daily social interactions mirror mine pretty much identically), Harold turns and retrieves a red-covered book (can you see what's coming here?) and comments, "Her diary. Did I tell you I had it?" For those of you in the not know, I quote to you thusly on the origins of this literary masterpiece, and I do so from the most trusted secondary source material I know: my own recaps. And now, ladies and gentlemen, a new low in shameless self-promotion, Djb's musings on The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer, as written in my recap of the pilot episode: "[The book was] written by David Lynch's daughter and sold during the show's brief but unfortunate marketing blitz. It was available at Genovese or your nearest international airport, to be found next to all the soft-core Harlequin novels featuring a pre-I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Butter-commercial Fabio on the cover and containing sentences like 'And Rick was sucking on my nipples and making noises like he was hungry and getting fed, or like he was eating an ice cream that was delicious' (J. Lynch 39).'" Anyway, that's what I wrote. Damn, I'm clever. Harold reads a clip from the book that is not nearly as cool or creepy as the one I picked. Donna suggests that they turn this book over to the police. He does not believe this to be a very good idea. Damn, he's creepy. Drunken mullety hermetic creepy freak. Except for the part just above where I called him "identical" to myself.

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Twin Peaks

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