Dull Mimes
and Other Hazards of Poor Vacation Planning
Episode 15 — Jan 31, 2003
“Mental as Anything”
Dull MimesSo, apparently — and I’m willing to be wrong about this — Farscape is entirely written and produced by guys, right?
Wait, let me check out this episode… written by Mark, directed by Geoff, executive producers Rockne and Brian… yep, pretty much guys, all the way down the line. But you’d know that anyway, because, a) it’s science fiction, so, duh, and b) the crucial romantic-relationship plot points get approximately half a scene every episode. The ratio is basically thirty seconds of emotional content for every eight people shot with ray guns.
Plus, last week’s episode ended with one of the greatest examples of Guy Logic in television history. Crichton told Aeryn that he didn’t love her, and he was breaking up with her — but then he managed to get a few seconds to whisper to her that he was just pretending to break up with her, so that Scorpius wouldn’t hurt her to get to him. Then they started kissing quietly, so Scorpius couldn’t hear.
So, in other words: We’re broken up and we can’t talk about our relationship, but we can still have sex sometimes, right? This might be the one time in the History of Guys when that line actually worked. Dude! (Note to the men of Earth: Do not try this at home. Apparently this line will only work in zero-gravity conditions.)
Anyway, more evidence that Farscape is boy fantasy: After one minute of cuddling — during which Aeryn actually gives him a big-screen TV for Christmas — Crichton goes off with all the guys to Master Katoya’s Mental Arts Training Camp.
The rest of the episode, unfortunately, takes place at the Mental Arts Training Camp. I’ll say that one more time, because it’s crucial that you understand how much Deep Boyness is involved here: Mental. Arts. Training. Camp.
“You have all come to my dwelling to learn,” says Master Katoya, a big-nosed alien guy with split ends and a powder-blue robe. Apparently, no matter where you go in the universe, guys who run karate schools are always totally into themselves. “Your objective is Mental Discipline. To focus your whole mind on a single task is a skill few ever achieve.” This, once again, is a skill that only boys would appreciate. I mean, they’re going to all this trouble to learn how to focus their attention on one single thing, as if guys ever do anything else. Meanwhile, the girls are all simultaneously shopping, having their hair done, solving each other’s personal problems and writing the next Harry Potter book. What’s the matter with boys, anyway?
It gets worse. “The Task Chairs provide access to a Mindscape, where you will compete with an opponent, to the point of great pain.” Yup, we can check a few more things off the Boy Fantasy checklist. Do big-breasted waitresses come along and serve them beer at any point? “Embrace the pain, and you shall succeed. Retreat, and suffer the consequences. If you have any self-doubt” — in other words, if you’re a big femmy lady, I think is the implication here — “then you have eighteen microts to exit, after which your jaxtawi crystal will be activated. Any attempt to leave, and the crystal will bore through your brain.”
Well, okay, that sounds fair, if I attempt to leave, then the crystal will bore through my — wait, WHAT did you say? It’ll bore through my BRAIN? Who the hell signed us up at Dr Kevorkian’s Judo School?
Anyway, all this Mental Discipline jive is just another way to say: We hook you up to a big video game version of Fight Club, where you try to push a sparkly cube at each other with the power of your enormous… um, courage. And to add insult to injury, while this whole irritating contest is going on, the alien Pat Morita guy keeps mincing around, hissing useless advice like “Embrace the Pain!” and “Release your Mind!” It’s basically electroshock therapy, administered by a fortune cookie.
I mean, maybe I’m not boy enough, but as far as I’m concerned, this guy couldn’t teach water how to be wet.
So then, as if being a karate-school teacher isn’t irritating enough, Katoya starts acting like a manipulative psychiatrist with a non-compliant patient.
D’argo: “I’m leaving.”
Katoya: “That won’t provide you with the answers you seek.”
D’argo: “What answers?”
Katoya: “What questions?”
Well, I don’t know, bitch, YOU brought it up! I mean, this right here is why I think the whole Karate-Kid thing is totally aggravating — this kind of pretentious, smug self-absorption, taking the most petulant shallowness and trying to pass it off as uber-wise insight.
And by the way, while I’m on the subject, here’s a message to the boys of the world: TAI CHI IS ENTIRELY MADE UP. Tai chi is as much of an ancient tradition as Ye Olde Colonial Candle Shoppe at the strip mall.
And I don’t care what Keanu Reeves tells you, practicing tai chi does NOT make you look badass and sexy. It makes you look like the world’s dullest mime.
So now I have to sit around for the next hour and watch this self-absorbed zen merchant do his little Matrix impression, like he thinks he’s somebody just because he has a black belt in pulling an imaginary rope. Personally, I blame the boys for this. Boys, go to your rooms.
All I can say is that this is the worst bed and breakfast we have ever been to, and as soon as I get this jaxtawi crystal thing out of my skull, I am going to have a series of long discussions with this guy’s supervisor.
Yeah, I’ll teach you how to embrace pain, Master Katoya. Talk about a Tao of Poo.
by Danny Horn
