This is part of a new series on cooking and cuisine my husband John and I are doing. If you prefer your food blogging straight up with no Star Trek chaser, check out our Posterous blog, Chicken Feet & Clam Chowdah.

I try to cook like this dude. Toolishness ensues.

On the heels of our very successful attempt at making the French fries Anthony Bourdain featured on the “Techniques” episode of No Reservations, John and I decided to try the pasta with red sauce Scott Conant made on that same episode. The results were mixed: The sauce we made was extremely tasty, but the recipe didn’t make nearly enough to coat the amount of pasta it called for. I’m guessing that Conant cooks the way my father-in-law does a lot of the time—without using a recipe or measuring, as he’s so familiar with what goes in each dish he can do it by memory alone. That’s a great trait for a chef, but it doesn’t always translate well when scaling down a recipe for a home kitchen. Sometimes Conant seemed to be describing the way he’d make the dish for restaurant use, making figuring out the proportions a little tricky.

One problem we had, for instance, was that Conant didn’t specify the amount of tomatoes needed during the TV segment, so we turned to the similar-but-not-identical recipe posted on the Travel Channel website, and used the 20 plum tomatoes and 1 pound of pasta that recipe called for.

The technique of blanching the tomatoes and then plunging them in ice water worked well, though I think the tomatoes could have stayed in the boiling water a little longer than the 15 seconds the recipe recommended.

Once in the saucepan, that big pile of tomatoes reduced waaaaay down to about three-quarters of an inch of funky-looking, delicious-smelling tomato sludge that in no way resembled the thick, rich, deep red saucy sauce Conant had going at this point in the recipe. I’m guessing he used a lot more tomatoes than I did. His also looked to have more fluid in them, even though he squeezed them beforehand. Next time we try this, I’d probably double the amount of tomatoes and just take the seeds out without squeezing out the juice to try and get a more fluid consistency.

40 minutes also seems like too long to cook the tomatoes—mine were as soft and pulpy as they were going to get about 20 minutes in (which is what the online recipe recommended anyway).

I infused 2 cups of olive oil with the basil, garlic, and crushed red pepper as shown on the episode. From the TV segment, it was hard to tell how much of that oil Conant put in the tomatoes. It looked like all of it, but that seems like a ton of olive oil unless you’re making a mecha chef-size potful. The online recipe called for 1/3 cup of oil, which sounded a lot more reasonable . (Plus, if I added 2 cups of oil to my tomato sludge, I’d wind up with oil with some tomato bits floating in it.)

My oily tomato sludge

Here I missed an essential step. I combined the tomatoes and the infused olive oil in a sauté pan instead of in the saucepan, and then tried to put as much of the pasta as I could into the saucepan to finish cooking. Only about 2/3 of a pound of pasta would fit in my pan that way, and it was impossible to flip. And, despite the fact that the sauce looked awfully oily, pasta still managed to stick to the bottom of the pan. After rewatching the segment, I found that Conant was finishing the pasta in individual portions, adding only 4 oz. of pasta and 6 oz. of sauce to the sauté pan at a time. D’oh!

The result came out tasting less like ‘pasta with red sauce’ than ‘pasta with an insufficient quantity of deliciously seasoned tomatoes.’ The bulk of the pasta tasted like olive oil with a little hint of flavor, though every so often I’d get an especially tomatoey bite. But those few tomatoey bites were delectable: bright and fresh-tasting, redolent of garlic, basil, and olives, like a burst of Italian sunshine. (And this with anemic April tomatoes, too!) They were enough to convince me that I need to try this recipe again—and get it right this time.

The finished product.

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Review of the ‘Mammals’ episode of

All nature shows anthropomorphize their subjects, often to the degree that they tell us as much about our values and morals as they do about animals. And so it is that Life, the successor to Planet Earth now appearing on the Discovery Channel, tells us an awful lot about Oprah Winfrey’s values and morals.

Winfrey narrates the show and appears to have influenced its content as well, if its ‘girl power’ overtones and fixation on motherhood are any indication. While the show’s visuals are spectacular, its writing is weak, especially when compared to more cerebral nature programs like David Attenborough’s Life of Mammals. Life’s script is light on science and heavy on generalisms. Whereas Attenborough would tell you why an elephant shrew evolved nipples on its front as opposed to its underside (the answer: so that it can feed its young and still remain in a position to sprint off should danger appear),  Winfrey merely  gushes about how the shrew’s “maternal instincts” make it devoted to its babies.

‘Mammals,’ definitely the weakest of the four Life episodes so far, is sometimes so lightweight that its scenes come off not as illuminating segments about animals but as parables. Most of these parables are about motherhood and gender: a scene of a reindeer herd escaping a swarm of mosquitoes, for instance, turns into a cautionary tale about child abduction, as one female loses her baby in the scuffle. “The mother may search for her kid for days,” Winfrey intones over footage of the female bleating in panic, “but she won’t see it again—not alive. Predators have already gotten to the baby.” Hear that, Vixen? You’re a negligent mother. You left your child alone for two seconds, and see what happened?

Then, as if to provide a foil for deadbeat Vixen, we get a series of vignettes about good animal moms: a seal who teaches her calf to swim; an elephant struggling to free her baby from a mud hole (Grandma Elephant—I kid you not—comes by to save the day); a polar bear who (in a scene that tells us nothing new whatsoever about polar bears, but does manage to introduce the specter of global warming) considers fighting off competitors to get her cubs a piece of beached whale meat.

On Wednesdays, we wear tan.

There’s also a scene about rival cliques – I mean, lionesses and hyenas. A starving hyena tries to move in on a carcass some lions are chomping on, with the predictable result that they chase her off. The hyena alerts its pack, who outnumber the lions, run them up a tree, and take the carcass for themselves. A pretty typical scene out on the savannah, you’d think, but Life’s script turns it into something out of Mean Girls. The female gender of the combatants is mentioned prominently; the hyena is described as greedy (“She shouldn’t have tried to eat that,” Winfrey even says, as if chiding the animal for not being sufficiently diet-conscious) and her summoning the pack is construed as revenge.

This silly reduction of animal behavior to mini-morality plays isn’t fair to Life’s videographers, who brought both incredible talent (my husband, no slouch in the photography department himself, was consistently agape at the shots they managed to capture) and grueling hard work to this series. (Thankfully, the other three episodes to air so far aren’t nearly as egregious as ‘Mammals,’ perhaps because it’s harder to see yourself as a fish or a lizard than as a cute meerkat.) And it’s not fair to the viewers who tuned in hoping to learn something about the natural world and only got an Oprah-style lecture about parenting instead.

The creatures featured in Life are a series of marvels. Male stalk-eyed flies ingest air until their heads inflate and their eyes protrude from long stalks, all in order to attract a mate. Pebble toads turn themselves rigid and fall dozens of feet in order to escape predators. A komodo dragon attack a water buffalo and then waits, with unnerving patience, weeks for the creature to die from its poisoned bite.

And the photography is astonishing. The filmmakers pan in close to catch every brilliant bump on a chameleon’s skin, or zoom out to catch wide-angle beauty shots of icebergs floating in an Arctic ocean. They shoot from seemingly impossible angles, at one point filming a pygmy gecko the size of a quarter from below as it skitters over the surface of a pond. In slow motion, and with startling clarity, they show us the dramas that take place over the course of a millisecond: a lizard’s tongue darting out to snare an insect, a “Jesus Christ lizard” sprinting across water, three cheetahs taking down an ostrich.

An elephant shrew, just one of the many cute critters featured in "Life."

Life’s narration, though, doesn’t live up to its visuals. Oprah Winfrey lacks the gravitas of a David Attenborough or a James Earl Jones, and she overemphasizes words and phrases  in a forced and sometimes distracting manner. The content of the narration is also slender—it mainly relies on platitudes about predator and prey and the great circle of life without ever asking the viewer to think deeply or ponder his relationship to the natural world. Instead the script just underscores what’s happening on screen: “Here’s another new animal. Check out the bizarre way it attracts a mate! Hey, it’s kind of like this next animal, which also needs to mate!”

And sometimes, Life can feel like a rehash of Planet Earth’s greatest hits. Instead of great white sharks snapping up seals, there are orcas circling around a crabeater seal; instead of African wild dogs hunting antelopes, shot from a helicopter, there are cheetahs hunting ostriches, also shot from a helicopter.

Life can feel shallow and disjointed at times, but its gorgeous cinematography more than makes up for its weak script. And if it feels like Planet Earth II, well, Planet Earth was awesome, so bring it on. Put Oprah on mute if you must, and sit back and let your mind get boggled.

He throws himself into his dancing with great enthusiasm and no trace of irony whatsoever. It’s pretty awesome. The good stuff starts around 5:20:

So the questionable fashions and “funky” dancing of the 80’s weren’t just limited to the U.S. and Europe — not by a long shot. No, the 80’s left their pastel-and-punk mark even on Red China.

This performance, my husband tells me, launched Fei Xiang’s career, as pop stars were something of a rarity in China back in the 80’s, especially those who danced. Fei Xiang was quite the heartthrob back in the day, and is still active in the music industry. His Wikipedia page, obviously written by a fan, contains such adorable details as his reunion with his grandmother (“When she met her grandson the first time, she was surely surprised by his looks and his height, however there was instant love between them and they accepted everything of each other.”), the change in his appearance over time (“Fei Xiang has greyish blue eyes which won thousands of his fans’ hearts. Although he was pretty fat as a young boy, he is well-built and muscly now as an adult.”), and his return performance in 1997 (“[W]hen Hong Kong came back and was classified as a part of China again, at the congratulations concert he returned to sing in China in public for the first time since he left and entered Broadway. This caused many mature women to remember their youths and their frantic love for him.”). Though the page doesn’t exactly meet Wikipedia’s standards for objectivity, it’s so cute that I kind of hope they leave it up.

In the 90’s, Fei Xiang hit Broadway, appearing in Miss Saigon and (erp!) The Songs of Andrew Lloyd Webber. There are plenty of clips of his performances up on YouTube, including many in English, and I have to say he’s quite the charismatic performer. I especially like his rendition of “Unexpected Song,” which shines despite the poor sound quality of the video:

But while this year had its share of cheesecake, in the form of Megan Fox and the blouse-doffing women of GoDaddy.com, men were the ones who got caricatured into inanity. Advertisers, who for the past few years have been encouraging men to embrace their inner bro, are now telling them to throw in the towel. The fight’s over, guys, they’re saying. The women have won, and all you can do about it is buy yourself a bunch of cool gadgets.

First there was Chrysler’s “Dodge Charger” ad, which features men staring glassy-eyed into the camera as the narrator intones all the things their wives and bosses makes them do. And, in most cases, this ad would have us believe, “wives” and “bosses” are pretty much interchangeable. “I will eat fruit with my breakfast,” the narrator says. “I will sit through two-hour meetings. I will say yes when you want me to say yes. I will carry your lip balm. I will watch your vampire TV shows. I will keep the seat down.” The sole way these pathetic schlubs can retain their masculinity, the ad states, is to buy the car they want to buy, in this case a Dodge Charger.

Then there’s FloTV’s eyeroller, “Injury Report,” in which a guy is mocked for clothes shopping with his girlfriend instead of watching the game. “Change out of that skirt, Jason,” the announcer scolds. How’s Jason to do so? By making a compromise with his girlfriend? By telling her he just plain hates shopping with her, but that there are other things they can do together? No, Jason is advised to take the passive-aggressive way out by buying a miniature TV so he can watch the game wherever he goes! A word to Jason’s girlfriend: Dump him now, or he’ll be watching FloTV at your wedding.

Are men really feeling this emasculated? If so, I don’t think American cars, more TV, and sport-scented body wash are going to help. But most of the guys I know aren’t that defeated. Heck, some of them even enjoy spending time with their wives and girlfriends, and see their jobs and household tasks as responsibilities to live up to, not drains on their vital masculine energy. Back in the day, masculinity used to be defined by responsibility, not buying yourself toys. For a lot of men, it still is, something advertisers need to wake up and realize.

But don’t worry, guys, Dove knows that you still feel “comfortable with your skin” and that you need to celebrate that fact with regular old Dove body wash in a gunmetal gray package Dove for Men! I snark, but the Dove ad actually subtly makes fun of all the “you’re not a REAL MAN unless you do/buy X” commercials out there: It follows a guy from conception to fatherhood through a number of split-second vignettes (climbing the rope in gym class, getting married, mowing the lawn, etc.), while the announcer sings about all the things you’re supposed to accomplish to be a man. “Be tough, be strong, be good at sports,” he says, to the tune of the William Tell Overture. “Don’t show your sensitive side. Go out and have fun with your friends but be a gentleman, too. Check out that noise at night and never be afraid.” The humorous visuals — a nervous husband, armed with a pot, checking out that ‘noise at night,’ a guy getting slapped for ‘not showing his sensitive side’ — subtly poke fun at the list of requirements the narrator sings, and make the point that we’ve seen most of these cliche requirements before, in other ads aimed at men. It’s a fun, self-aware look at how advertisers portray manhood, and it slyly points up the fact that society asks a lot of contradictory things of men. And the relaxed, feel-good tone is much more appealing than that of the insulting Chrysler and FloTV ads.

An Armchair Sociologist’s Field Day

Hulu.com has added a fun feature to its Super Bowl ad videos: you can vote on whether you like each or not, and you can see what other Hulu viewers thought of the ads, too. Hulu also allows you to track the voting on each ad by gender, age group, and location, providing lots of room for speculation. A few observations:

• We’re a nation of saps. The top five ads (at least on 9 PM EST on Monday night) featured a cute kid defending his mother, an international love story (with marriage and baby), more babies, and a dog. Oh, and Betty White getting tackled.
• Men and women chose the same favorite ads, with one glaring exception: Motorola’s Megan Fox-in-a-bathtub ad. Interestingly, a substantial proportion of men disliked this ad, and very few liked the GoDaddy ads at all. Give us more credit! guys seem to be saying.
• And men and women largely disliked the same ads, with the controversial Tim Tebow ad and the annoying Taco Bell and Boost Mobile Shuffle ads coming in among the most hated. The Megan Fox ad was also one of the women’s top 5 disliked. And, giving me hope for the future of this country, one ad everybody detested was the trailer for  that wretched-looking romcom The Backup Plan.

Also Worth Mentioning

• Most memorable ads: Audi, “Green Car.” If Al Gore had been Big Brother, 1984 might have read a lot like Audi’s “Green Car” ad, in which nerdy “Green Police” arrest people for such infractions as failing to compost their fruit peels and requesting plastic bags instead of paper. When the Green Police set up a roadblock, the guy in the “clean diesel”-powered Audi gets to zip right by. At first, this ad seemed counterintuitive: If you drive a hybrid or other green car, you probably worry that other people see you as an eco-Nazi, not that the Green Police are going to bust down your door. The more I thought about it, though, the more sense this ad made. It sends the message that if you buy an Audi, you can absolve yourself of environmental guilt, and safely ignore the Green Police in your life (presumably, your Bobo neighbors or fellow Whole Foods shoppers). The ad’s parody of COPS is pretty funny, too.
• Most memorable ads: In Bridgestone’s “Whale of a Tale,” three guys speed a killer whale to safety, “Free Willy”-style . . . in a station wagon. Two guys pour bottled water over its head to keep it cool, while the driver skids to a stop on a pier, crushing the railings and ejecting the whale into the water. It’s quirky, charming, and it makes the point that Bridgestone tires (supposedly) let you stop on a dime.
• Most memorable ads: Cars.com, “Timothy Richman.” The hero of this ad is a genius who delivers Bengal tiger babies, speaks perfect Italian in junior high, and uses his knowledge of meteorology to rescue a bus full of cheerleaders from a tornado. But, the ad tells us, he’s still nervous about buying a car, so he goes to Cars.com. This ad reassures people that there’s no shame in not knowing much about the car buying process, and does so in a gentle, tongue-in-cheek manner with the spirit of an indie film.
• Worst ads (beside the masculine anxiety ones mentioned above): In “Driven Crazy,” FloTV once again suggests a miniature TV set can solve all your problems. Here a mom ineffectually warns, “Who wants a time out?” as her three kids brat it up in the backseat. One even hits her in the head with a stuffed animal. (Forget time outs; if I had done that to my mom I would have been cleaning for a week!) But does she give them something to read? Shoot them The Look Of Certain Grounding, Or Possibly Death? Actually follow through on her idle threat of a time out? Nah, it’s easier just to shut ‘em up with Spongebob!
• Worst ads: Emerald Nuts and Pop Secret’s spot went for weird for weird’s sake, featuring humans doing dolphin-like tricks for the nuts and popcorn their “trainer” threw. All I could think was, “Wet, chlorine-soaked popcorn. Ew.”
• Worst ads: Vizio, “Forge.” Giant cranes pluck people and objects out of their homes in an ad that evokes an apocalypse in which humanity is enslaved by robots. Even Beyonce looks robotic. Surrender to the machines!
• And, finally, monkeys!

Worst Dressed Golden Globes ‘10

Worst Gown of the Night: Anna Paquin

This dress seems to be encrusted with barnacles. Blingy barnacles, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that it looks like something a six-year-old-girl would make out of rhinestones and glitter. Under the spotlight, it glitzed and shone, which, coupled with the low neckline, make Paquin look a little too Vegas. (In this still picture, though, it’s not that bad, and it does fit her well. See, I told you this was a weak year for snark.)

Biggest Disappointment: (tie) Penelope Cruz and Kate Winslet

Penelope is one of the most reliable stars out there when it comes to looking fabulous on the red carpet. She rarely missteps, and even when she does, as in this odd dress that looks like it was pieced together from three different gowns, she still doesn’t miss the mark by much.

Kate Winslet, on the other hand, has the kind of classically pretty face and curvaceous figure that could make her a fashion icon. But her gown choices are very conservative. She loves the one-shoulder look, but it’s getting a little tired, especially here, in basic black.

Marion Cotillard

I can’t figure out if Cotillard’s slip is showing, or if that bit of lace-trimmed black fabric on her left leg is part of her gown. At either rate, it’s one more conflicting element in a gown that has too much going on.

Diane Kruger

Inglorious Basterds actress Kruger channels her inner Barbie in a foofy pink gown with an out-of-place white bow.

Jayma Mays

I like the bodice of this dress, which looks like something Emma Pillsbury, Mays’s character on Glee, would wear, but I think the skirt was woven by Charlotte the spider. Either that or she’s trying to hypnotize the Hollywood Foreign Press into voting for Glee — well, if so, she was successful. (Go Glee!)

Lea Michele

Lea Michele also seems to be going for Glee character correspondence: this is the kind of thing Rachel Berry would wear while channeling Maria Callas. In real life, though, it’s just an overstuffed, starchy gown that overwhelms the young actress.

Felicity Huffman

The Art Deco collar of this dress is gorgeous. Want. Unfortunately, the pleating and the low-cut opening also compete for the viewer’s attention. An element as beautiful as that collar should be allowed to stand on its own, complemented by a simple skirt and bodice.

Zoe Saldana

The raspberry color of this gown is luscious, but Saldana is overwhelmed by all those ruffles. Too many pleats and flounces threaten to take her into hoedown territory, and the frumpy, layered skirt does nothing for her long, lithe figure.

Christina Aguilera

I can’t look at this dress without thinking that Christina’s right bra cup has popped out. The wire wrapping on the bodice doesn’t work, either: she looks like a Borg ballerina.

Bonus: Christina and Cher!

Xtina and Cher bring some welcome weirdness to a night of bland gowns. Cher is channeling Morticia Addams and, actually, I think it’s kind of awesome. The look works for Cher, whereas on anybody else it would be absolutely ridiculous. It’s even better paired with Christina’s Paris Hilton-in-Ace-bandages getup.

Kristen Bell

At big awards shows, there’s always one actress who mistakes her towel or bathrobe for her gown. This year, it’s Kristen Bell, going for the toga party look in overly-pleated strapless white satin. (Her floral-design collar necklace, though, is adorable.)

Best Dressed Golden Globes ‘10

Gown of the Night: Drew Barrymore

The most stunning gown of the evening belonged to Drew Barrymore, who chose the perfect shade of peach to complement her skin tone. The crystals on the overlay add glamour, while the corset she wears beneath evokes old Hollywood. I’m sure the critics will be divided about the spiky, sparkly ornaments on her shoulder and waist, but without them, in my opinion, this would be just another nice evening gown — they’re daring and blingy enough to take this gown over the top.

Also: pay attention to Barrymore’s sleek updo; you’ll be seeing a lot of it later. Many actresses went for this hairstyle this year, a welcome change from the long messy locks and casual, frizzy updos of previous awards seasons.

Jennifer Garner

The long lines and careful geometry of this dress accentuate Garner’s figure well, and the asymmetrical neckline adds interest without looking forced. In a year where many gowns had ruffles, bows, folds, and other accents-for-the-sake-of-accents randomly stapled onto them, a clean, confident look like this one — where it’s all about the cut — stands out.

Carey Mulligan

The star of An Education, better known to many of us as Kitty from Pride and Prejudice (2005) , wears one of the night’s most interesting dresses. The midnight blue color and classic strapless neckline say ‘glamour,’ while the marbled-looking lace overlay and the ragged hem suggest that this actress has a Gothy streak. (I do want to yank it up a couple of inches, however.) Plus her crystal headband is cute with her pixie cut. Clearly the stylists haven’t been able to shove Mulligan into the ‘generic Hollywood glam’ mold yet, and I hope they never do; her personal style really shows through in this outfit.

Chloe Sevigny

This may well be one of the most divisive looks of the evening: I know many people will say this gown looks like a tornado hit a ruffle factory, but here the ruffles are deployed with purpose. The gown works best when you see it from all sides and notice how the ruffles frame Sevigny both front and back, and how they appear to float about her shoulders without being held up by anything. The lavender shade is also lovely.

Halle Berry

This is definitely a number only Halle Berry could pull off! That low a neckline is usually distracting, but it works on this gown as it’s offset by the tomboyish cap sleeves and almost military-style gold piping. It fits Berry perfectly, and she’s a knockout as always.

Reese Witherspoon

Witherspoon had one of the loveliest gowns of the night: beautifully cut, understated, and in a COLOR. The blue shade really brought out her eyes, and the swoop of the one-shoulder, sweetheart-but-not neckline was pleasing (especially on a night when so many straps seemed tacked onto one-shoulder gowns).

Tina Fey

Fun, flouncy, ’50’s: this Zac Posen number is a great fit for Fey, who loves to rock the ’sexy librarian’ look. The corset-like top and full skirt are flattering, while the pattern hints at Fey’s nerdy image. I do find the shoes a bit too twee, though.

Mo’Nique

The golden color of this dress is a great match for Mo’Nique’s skin tone, and the lush pleats and draping transform her into an old Hollywood bombshell.

Meryl Streep

Trust Meryl to show ‘em how it’s done: Streep somehow manages to look both casual and glam at the same time. The belt and the three-quarter-length sleeves say, ‘What, this old thing?,’ while the hint of shoulder and the red lips say ‘I got TWO nominations in one category. Damn, I’m good.”

Honorable Mention: Kate Hudson

There’s too much going on with this dress for it to work 100%, but the white fabric beautifully shows off the sharp folds and the cut of the bodice.  The way the feathered top stands out from Hudson’s body keeps you looking: it’s more than just another white column dress. Definite points for effort here.

Honorable Mention: Cameron Diaz

Wearing a bright red dress with sleeves is enough in and of itself to get you on this list in a bland year like 2010. Diaz was like a chili pepper thrown into a pot of gruel. There’s something weird about the neckline, and Diaz’s lipstick is too bright, but the color alone is gorgeous, and she gets extra points for pulling off shiny satin that well.

Honorable Mention: Rose Byrne

This may not be the most exciting of dresses, but its grape color is downright drinkable, and the rhinestone floral accents are exquisite.

Christopher Judge does an admirable job portraying this character. Teal’c is very matter-of-fact and stoic much of the time, and doesn’t always get to display the same emotional range that the other characters do. This requires Judge to convey Teal’c’s feelings through very subtle, almost undetectable, facial expressions. He can do an awful lot with just the twitching of a cheek muscle or the raising of an eyebrow.

Teal’c is so self-contained that, when he does break out in a laugh or smile, it’s a little surprising — and usually very funny. It’s hard not to get caught up in his amusement yourself. With that in mind, here’s a little tribute to some of Teal’c’s funniest moments from the first four seasons of SG-1:

And Then, We Can Cast Pearls Before Some Swine

Much like Data, Teal’c has trouble understanding human idioms. In “The Serpent’s Lair,” when SG-1 discovers they can take out two Goa’uld motherships with one explosion, Teal’c proves he’s finally learned one, observing, “We can kill two birds with just one stone!” As with many things Teal’c, the line itself isn’t that funny, it’s the way Christopher Judge delivers it that makes the scene work. Teal’c has the barest hint of a smug smile on his face, as though he’s just so proud of himself for finally figuring out a human cliché, and has been waiting months for the opportunity to use it. I can’t find a screencap that does it justice, but watch the episode and you’ll see what I mean.

Three System Lords Walk Into A Bar . . .

In “Seth,” we learn that, contrary to popular belief, Jaffa do understand the concept of humor, and that their “jokes” resemble the corny ones your great-uncle tells at Thanksgiving dinner. “An Apophis guard, a Horus guard, and a Setesh guard meet on a neutral planet,” Teal’c relates. “It is a tense moment. The Apophis guard’s eyes glow. The Horus guard’s beak glistens. And the Setesh’s guard’s . . . nose drips!” And he busts out laughing, while the rest of SG-1 gives him befuddled looks. The contrast between his unbridled laughter and his team’s discomfiture is priceless. I especially love how Jackson hides his face behind a cup of coffee:

Other fans must love this moment too, considering how often it pops up on YouTube:

The Happiest Guest Ever To Visit A Motel 6

All the time that Teal’c has spent in the service of the Goa’uld has given him a keen appreciation for the little things. Things like Vibra-Beds, for example. In “Point of No Return,” he and O’Neill hide out in a crappy motel, where he bums quarters off O’Neill, fires up the Vibra-Bed, and lies down on it with a huge smile of satisfaction. Sure, Vibra-Beds are an old joke, but Teal’c’s pure happiness at experiencing something so mundane makes it work this time. Perhaps my husband put it best when he said, “Well, Teal’c doesn’t get out much . . .”

The One That Got Away

Something Teal’c definitely doesn’t love? Fishing. When O’Neill drags him along to the ol’ fishin’ hole in British Columbia Minnesota in “The Curse,” Teal’c fails to see the point of casting a rod into some water, over and over, while being eaten alive by mosquitoes. He’s actually relieved when Daniel Jackson calls and offers him a way out (“No, we have caught nothing! . . . . I would be glad to return to the base”), and then is disappointed when O’Neill nixes that suggestion. Judge’s subtle facial expressions hint, to great comic effect, at the frustration lurking beneath Teal’c’s patient exterior. Plus, Teal’c in hats is always funny.

Whack-A-Nerd

In “Window of Opportunity,” Teal’c and O’Neill are stuck in a time loop, reliving the same ten hours over and over again a la Groundhog Day. Eventually, it dawns on them that they can get away with doing just about anything, as no one else will remember their actions once the loop resets itself. So Teal’c finally gets back at the nerdy staffer who keeps bumping into him in the hall (whom he’s already warned, in Worf-like fashion, “Next time I will not be so merciful”), by flinging a door open and crushing him into the wall. Teal’c’s expression of utter satisfaction is hilarious. It’s a moment of pure id: I’m sure we’ve all, at some point, wanted to smack someone who got on our nerves.

And, as a potter, I would be amiss if I did not call this episode out as the one in which O’Neill learns to use the wheel. Somebody on the Stargate staff must be a potter for these scenes to look as accurate as they do – complete with sponges, muddy clay towel, mound of well-wedged clay, and Kemper tools!

(It’s at 1:52:)

I Love The Java Jaffa Jive And It Loves Me

Speaking of id moments, how about “Urgo,” in which Teal’c, under the influence of an alien computer program, drinks an entire pot of coffee straight from the pot? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten up groggy in the morning, gone to Starbucks, and wanted to do just that.

This one’s also on YouTube. For your caffeinated delectation:

He Who Gloats Last . . .

When you’re a big, powerful warrior and the rest of your team is composed of two nerds and one hothead, you know you’ll be the one to save their butts on numerous occasions. That’s got to be gratifying – and all the more so when they’ve just been granted superpowers and one of them has knocked you out in a sparring match (“Upgrades”). O’Neill, Carter, and Jackson apologize in turn to General Hammond for wreaking havoc and going offworld without his permission, and then Teal’c says, with the tiniest possible intimation of smugness, “I have nothing to apologize for.” Judge’s delivery, again, is spot-on: you can tell Teal’c is inwardly gloating, but the only sign is an extra brightness in his eyes and a very small upward turn to the corners of his lips.

In other Teal’c news, dude likes saying, “Indeed.” A lot:

Mary Lynn with two of her capuchin "children"

As I’ve said before, baby monkeys are among the cutest creatures on the planet. In some ways, they’re even cuter than baby humans: they’ve got fur and tails, they make adorable chirping noises, and they can hop around and play a lot sooner than their furless fellow primates can. I can totally see why some people keep them as pets, even though they’re extremely expensive and require care almost 24/7.

But adopting a monkey not as a pet but as a substitute child? That’s borderline crazy, as viewers of the TLC special My Monkey Baby can attest. The program follows three sets of “monkey parents”: a pair of empty nesters who refer to their 18-year-old capuchin, Jessy, as their “daughter”; Mary Lynn, a woman who owns three capuchins and two marmosets; and a young couple adopting a newborn macaque they name Butters. All three, not surprisingly, have suffered trauma or mental illness that has left a void in their lives. Mary Lynn, for instance, had uterine cancer which left her unable to bear children, while Butters’s owner, Jesus, had a vasectomy at age 22 because his painful childhood convinced him he never wanted to have kids of his own.

Jessy serves as a "bridesmaid" in her "mom's" wedding

Perhaps the saddest is Jessy’s “mom.” She is estranged from all six of her grown human children, who rebelled against her, she says, starting when they were teenagers and “wanted to lead their own lives.” The woman purchased Jessy because the monkey is like “a baby that never grows up.” A spoiled baby, at that: Jessy has a wardrobe full of frilly dresses and dozens of toys, and eats pastry, ice cream, and lollipops. It’s not hard to connect the dots: it seems like this woman built her identity around taking care of small, dependent children, and was never able to break out of that role. Jessy now fills the void her children left when they grew into independent people with their own free will.

Jessy's toothlessness is obvious in this photo.

And there’s a second dark side to this story, one My Monkey Baby irresponsibly fails to address. Despite the “do not try this at home”-type disclaimers TLC runs after every commercial break, the program never does adequate justice to the stresses and hardships of monkey ownership. Monkeys are wild animals who, when they reach maturity, can and will bite out of anger or in self-defense.  (One reason Jessy’s “parents” have been able to co-exist with her for so long is that they’ve had all her teeth removed, a practice even more painful and damaging to a monkey than declawing is to a cat.) They’re intelligent, have opposable thumbs, move much faster than humans, and can easily tear furnishings to shreds. Many owners, sadly, grow tired of their pets once they grow past babyhood, and seek to offload or sell them. But sanctuaries for former monkey pets, like Jungle Friends, are few and far between.

There are responsible monkey owners out there, who provide for their pets’ needs and don’t feed them candy or feel compelled to stick dresses on them, but it’s hard to tell if Mary Lynn is one of these, or if Jesus will still want Butters when she looks less like this:

and more like this:

or even this:

By focusing on the “weird factor” and not presenting all sides of the story, I fear, My Monkey Baby may only contribute to the problem of monkeys being used as substitute children.