CSI: Las Vegas - Malice Station Needs Help

I caught CSI in syndication, having originally missed it in prime time. I'm absolutely hooked on it. A Helgenberger fan since China Beach and a Petersen fan since Manhunter, the show is a breath of fresh air in its intelligent, quirky characters that defy stereotype. Jorja Fox and Robert David Hall have also become faves. Melinda Clarke is interesting as Lady Heather (a writers' play on trendy names? The Heather-ization/Jason-ification Effect?). Grissom witticisms are to die for - I especially enjoy his philosophical summaries at episode's end. (A consideration: actual CSI squads likely aren't this witty.) A comment on set design: the LV morgue cannot be realistic I'm thinking. Its clean lines, tinted glass, dimmed lighting and bright multi-color orbs and jars on back-lit glass shelving might be atypical. But I LIKE it. I just may re-decorate in smoked glass and bright orbs and mount coroners' tools on the walls.

CSI: Las Vegas - Malice Station Needs Help is entirely fictional.

[Grissom and Willows proceed past check-in and concierge stations, through a gauntlet of marble and glass, to the elevators, up and out into a hall.]

Grissom: We have two VICs, a male and a female. Paul and Mary Blundt. Room 310. They checked in last night.

Willows: What’s that smell?

Grissom: Cheap disinfectant?

Willows: It’s like an alternate universe once you cross the elevator threshold.

Grissom: Yeah. Now let’s do it.

[Location: Room 310. Willows and Grissom peruse the scene]

Grissom: Innocents – an older couple come here on vacation to win a few bucks, see a show and eat inexpensive prime rib. Now they’re dead on cheap carpet.

Willows: It’s ugly, too. Worst color scheme I’ve ever seen.

Grissom: It’s all bad, Katherine.

Willows: Yeah. Let’s get trace. It appears that they struggled for breath, choked somehow. The dropped drinking glass – was the woman trying to get to the bathroom for water when she fell?

Grissom: Could be. We might be looking at ingested toxins of some kind. I don’t see human aggression or theft here.

Willows: Yeah. We’ll see what the team devines.

[Grissom and Willows proceed downstairs, through the lobby and towards an exit.]

Grissom: (Reads an employee’s name tag) Um . . .TREVOR. You have an awfully ritzy lobby here. The rooms are Dante’s Inferno. Malice Station can afford concierge service but not effective housekeepers?

Trevor: Yes, sir. Thank you. Have a nice day!

[Location: LV Crime Lab]

Grissom: Take a drive with me, Katherine.

Willows: Where to, boss?

Grissom: St. George. Cal’s giving us cooperation in seeing the Blundt residence.

Willows: Okay, but will we need protective suits?

Grissom: Nuclear tests . . .what were they thinking? Duck and cover, kids! Your desk and school binder will protect you.

[Grissom and Willows proceed east on I-15, taking Exit 6 to N. Bluff Dr.]

Cal: I can’t believe Paul and Mary are dead. They hardly ever went anyplace or took vacations. Now this.

Willows: You could practically eat off these floors. Or drink out of the toilets. They were good housekeepers no doubt.

Grissom: Yeah. Let’s check for prescription meds or other substances. Did they perhaps intentionally or accidentally ingest a slow-acting agent here, before they left for Vegas?

Willows: If they did and if it’s here, we’ll find it.

[Location: LV Morgue]

Al: The decedents have elevated levels of tryptase, which indicates they died during the night of anaphylaxis – an extreme allergic reaction during which the airway constricts. In this case the culprit would be . . . dust mites.

Grissom: Dust mites . . . could the VICs possibly have had compromised immune systems from living in a spotless environment?

Al: Could be. Things in moderation, my friend. Cleanliness in moderation. And how ironic is this? The Blundts survive a cancer hot zone, leave town, and ultimately die in a crappy hotel room because of dust mites?

Grissom: My philosophy of dust if you will . . . dust, what is it? Some ancients – perhaps fetishists - believed it to be magic – bottled it. We attack it with chemicals. In part it’s the cycling of life debris, cells shedding and degrading, to feed innocent creatures 200 microns long. ‘Tis the food chain, my friends. Dust shall always be with us. [Gil arches his brows, makes eye contact with Willows, slightly curls his lips. Scene ends on single violin note]

Fear of the Bogeymen: The Internet! Nudity! Pandemic! More . . .

Yet another alarmist article has hit the media, warning us of the alleged dangers of the internet (people tend to forget that the internet is simply a tool - amongst other tools - all used in a number of ways)! The article refers not to crime, nor violence, but to being exposed to a photograph of male nudity. Traumatized by the image of a penis - I suppose nightmares might ensue. Of course, the person in question didn’t ask to see the photo (perhaps downloading the pesky attachment from an email entitled “Cutest Pet Pics Ever!”). I however imagine that the writer of the article likely grew up in a home with a resident male or two. Perhaps this was a family in denial – reminiscent of a Hayes Code film universe – in which penises didn't exist!

Female breasts: how hypocritical can we be? If said breasts are attached to an entertainer – and/or used in popular media/advertising – the situation mostly raises no issues – unless there is wardrobe malfunction (in which case innocent children are allegedly corrupted!). If the breast in question is dispensing milk in a public place, society can go medieval. So skewed are values that is more acceptable in film scenarios to hack off a breast than to kiss one.

The current Swine Flu concern is reminiscent of the Bush administration Homeland Security Department fanning the flames of human insecurities – remember the color-coded security warnings? There were several bright colors involved as I recall, possibly causing one to awake in the morning pondering “Is it yellow or orange today? Should I go out? Should I stay in?" Mutating viruses are no doubt a cause for concern – but sealing international borders and slaughtering animals seem extreme. Resort to common sense. Wash your hands. Keep your hands off your face. Cover your sneezes. We learned this before first grade, remember?

Vitamin X Prevents Cancer! Vitamin X Causes Cancer! Click here to buy Vitamin X. Oh, the alarmism and informational overload! Is it really necessary to take a plethora of nutritional supplements in order to boost one’s immune system? Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve dropped a lot of vitamins onto the floor, which roll under the fridge. I’m watching for giant mutant cockroaches to crawl out and threaten my dogs.

Now excuse me while I go lock up.

Goode Medicine: A Sitcom That You Likely Won't See

Brad Connor and Heather Corman, two pharmaceutical sales representatives, negotiate the Southern California freeway in a PT Cruiser convertible. They weave in and out of traffic, shadowed by walls of semi-trucks and tall palm trees.

Heather: "Damn, my Lipitor pamphlets just blew away!"

Brad: "You need to keep those packaged."

Heather: "I know, I know, it was an anomaly."

Brad: " 'Anomaly'? Sounds like a new drug. 'Anomaly: take occasionally . . . just because'."

Heather: (sighs) "The company's got to get me a rental, or get my car out of the shop."

Brad: "Like, truly. Sales territory issues. You wear that cheerleader's outfit and seem a bit conspicuous."

Heather: "Remember, Goode Pharmaceuticals recruited me from the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders."

Brad: "Yeah, yeah. They recruited me from the Berkeley croquet team."

Heather: "Let's go pick up lunch for Medical Arts."

Brad: "Right."

#

Brad and Heather take an exit to find a restaurant. Naked human directionals advertise a car wash. They find a drive-through and order turkey sandwiches at the window.

Speaker voice: "Sir, this is a bank."

Brad: "I knew that."

#

Medical Arts Clinic is located next to Back Neck and Shoulder Pain in the Sunrise Center. The building is beige stucco, surrounded by palm trees.

Heather gathers pharmaceutical samples and sandwiches, walks to the entrance and enters the lobby.

Heather: "Is he in?"

Office assistant: "Go on back."

Heather walks down the hall to an empty conference room and enters. She sets up the freebie lunches, walks out and down the hall, connecting with Doctor Fear. She touches his arm, her pompom gently brushing his wrist.

Doctor Fear: "Good morning, Ms. Corman . . . this way, please."

In his office, Doctor Fear takes a seat behind his desk and crosses his hands over his lap. Heather stands across from him.

Heather: "I want to talk to you today about Vivify, the new drug for patients who are on multiple meds. (stretches out arms, shakes pompoms, kicks left then right, repeats)

"ViviFY! ViviFY! Works in seconds! Zaps the fog, starts the brain!

"ViviFY! ViviFY! Lasts for hours! Tweaks the synapses, stops the pain!

"Open the bottle, caress the pill

"Wash it down!

"Vi vi FFFFYYYYYY!" (jumps; performs split).

#

Brad and Heather in car on freeway, yelling, with the top down.

Heather: "Sold him!"

Brad: (sighs) "Yeah."

Heather: "Next stop?"

Brad: (smiles) "Dr. Bronner at Sunset Plaza. We play croquet together."

(Pamphlets litter the freeway)

No pharmaceutical reps were harmed in the creation of this story.

 

Confessions of a Primetime Snob

I've gone through periods of not watching TV for months or longer. I'd lost interest in typical primetime programming and developed Fear of Bad Sitcoms. I tended to not have hope about the quality of premiering series and didn't bother watching. Cable series such as Sopranos, Six Feet Under and Weeds provided entertainment - along with brit crime fare Prime Suspect, Cracker, etc.

Eventually, due to sleeplessness, satellite and syndication, I'm now hooked on CSI. The original CSI is amazing (CSI:NY is good as well, IMO). Petersen / Helgenberger (and Sinise) have long been faves of mine. The technical research, writing and acting are top notch. What an interesting creative team! 

Fur And Loathing

 Pirates of the Third Reich

Go To Hell

The Theory of Everything

petersen trivia
If you haven't seen Michael Mann's Manhunter, check it out!

Does anyone remember the 'new' Twilight Zone series from 1985? There was an episode with William Petersen and Frances McDormand solving a mystery in a small southwestern town. Very good. Looking back, the new TZ had some fantastic writers.

The Fire This Time II

With hot, nasty smoke drifting over the hills and a likely mandatory evacuation decree looming, in panic-attack-mode I ran around the apartment packing a few things - while thinking about what would be left behind. My laptop, disks, and computer accessories were ready to go. I found a couple of photo albums and some personal papers. I thought about books and DVDs, where to begin? I re-parked the car for easy getaway (the bichon and terrier are travel-friendly, crate-trained and go easily into their carriers). I packed clothing and toiletries (being extremely lucky to have time to do such things). 

We did not have to evacuate after all - for now. 1,400 people here did, by quirk of southern location. Firefighters then got a grip on the fire down the way. 

California is thought of by some as 'green' - it is super nurtured desert - its water resources aqueduct-dependent - so that California can be green in its lush landscaping and agribusiness.

California Water History

Chinatown - the film

The Fire This Time

The fire is now a few miles away. I'm getting some things together. Might have to evacuate . . .

11-16-08

So Cal

Somewhere Between Paranoia And Pronoia

Paranoia has its place, can be self-protective - and can be the basis of interesting fictional characters. The concept of paranoia seems more well-known than its polar opposite: the perk and pep of pronoia. Pronoia is the belief that "the universe conspires to shower one with riches and all things wonderful". I've however noticed the universal effluvia coming my way isn't all roses and greenbacks.

Self help gurus and mass psychological training embody the pronoic mindset: that universal secrets magically transform one's life; that belief systems help you get "it" - until you get that there is no "it" to get. Me thinks the universe is showering seminar creators and motivational speakers with green.

I remain . . . somewhere between paranoia and pronoia.

Read a humorous account of my self-help seminar experience here.

Incense & Peppermints: Is Nothing Sacred?

Goodbye patchouli, cedar, orange blossom, sandalwood, et al - do people really need to be breathing such volatile compounds/by-products? Apparently not. It seemed a good way to scent my environment. In retrospect, it seems one might best simply burn the herbs/essences in their natural form vs. stoking up a toxic, manufactured product.

Patchouli: FEMA has it listed! Apparently aging hippies might use it to overpower the citizenry (think Woody Allen in Sleeper overtaking a guard with limburger cheese)! It takes me back to the nineteen-seventies: a burning stick, a scented wash, a dab of oil. Cedar and orange allegedly have cleansing effect (as does sage). Not attracted to most commercial fragrances, nor sweet/flowery essences, I've always loved woods, spices and citrus.

Sigh. Could the pungent smoke plumes be related to my allergies, nausea, dizziness? Or to cancer? I think I'll bake cinnamon instead.