Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Your Weekly Dose of 24

Well it's Tuesday, and you know perfectly well what that means. It’s time for Rickey to try to cut down on the third person shenanigans and crank out a write up on this week's thrilling episode of "24." So sit back, relax (well, as much as humanly possible while watching this show) and enjoy counting the damnits.

Previously on 24: Thanks to generous contributions from “Nutjob President Weekly,” work on the grandiose Charles Logan Presidential Library has begun. As of right now, the library is going to consist of a bible, a ceremonial beard trimmer, tons of American flags, Martha Logan’s makeup kit, pictures of horses, and Richard Nixon’s corpse. It will be truly awe inspiring.

So did we all enjoy last night’s episode, AKA, forty non-stop action packed minutes of “The Chad Lowe Show”? Truly riveting stuff. Kudos to the writers of “24” who evidently have been hellbent on making it very difficult for Rickey to get excited about the show lately. So let’s skip over all the filler (and sweet merciful jebus was there a lot of it last night) and cut straight to the chase.

First off, let’s tackle the always enjoyable Chloe/Morris drama. Rickey would like to be the first to say: leave poor Morris alone. This is not a man to be interrupted while in the stall of the men’s bathroom. He’s been senselessly tortured with a baseball bat and a power drill. Come on CTU, give the man a whiskey and the blessing to rip off Milo’s goatee with a cheap home waxing kit. Besides, everyone knows that it’s easier to decipher vectors after you’ve had a few drinks.

At the horse ranch for criminal presidents, Charles Logan appears to have found God and become a new person. Kiefer, being more of an Ezekiel 25:17 fan, isn’t buying it at all. So by extension, we the audience aren’t meant to either. For once, can we please get an episode where Jack is actually wrong about something? Just for giggles, you know? Meanwhile, after being alerted to Logan’s re-emergence, Agent Aaron Pierce takes a break from washing Martha Logan’s feet and walks to the garage, flips on some Metallica, and moodily polishes his flamethrower. It’s go time Agent Pierce. For the record, Rickey totally predicted the return of Logan and is now predicting the return of Aaron and Martha, who are now living happily in a condo in Scottsdale. True story folks.

Fortunately, Charles Logan stocks his clothing collection with children’s size suits, just in case Jack Bauer shows up angry and in need of a wardrobe change. And out pops Kiefer looking all dapper and whatnot, ready to single handedly storm the Russian Embassy and get himself shipped off to Siberia in a cargo container at the end of Season 6. Seriously, how many foreign countries does Jack need to commit acts of war against before the UN votes to enact sanctions against Kim, Marilyn, and Josh?

Meanwhile several hundred feet beneath the White House, poor Tom Lennox remains tied to a pipe, without any help or aid from Vigo the Carpathian. After an awful lot of conversation signifying absolutely nothing, Chad Lowe plants a bomb on the presidential podium, arms it, and blows it. The explosion robs Assad of his 72 virgins and leaves Wayne horizontal on the floor, looking only marginally less dignified and in charge than he had been 30 seconds previously. Next week: Vice President Powers Boothe takes the reins of power. To quote Boothe's character, Cy Tolliver from “Deadwood,”

“…And don't the kid in all of us look forward to the new arrival. I still tingle at the bottom of my balls.”

Indeed. And we’re leaving you on that note.

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2 comments:

Adam said...

I loved the throwaway scene with Gredenko when the guy shows up with the Predator drones.

Gredenko: You're late!
Truck Driver: Yeah, I'm late, so what?
Gredenko: Good point.

And then this exchange...

Gredenko: Fuck these American taxpayers... wait 'till we use the VERY DRONES their money paid for on their own stupid taxpaying asses!
Truck Driver: Yes, in Soviet Russia, taxes weren't an issue... wait-

Rickey Henderson said...

In Soviet Russia, car drives you!