(originally aired October 19, 1997)
Flashback episodes always seem to be a slam dunk for this show. Delving back into the past of our favorite family sheds light on the formation of their characters and how they came to be. Also, seeing them younger is always really cute, especially the case with the Simpson children. When Lisa’s saxophone is accidentally destroyed, Homer and Marge tell the tale of how she came to get the instrument. It’s a story that quickly gets usurped by another one about five-year-old Bart’s early school days. We see that li’l Bart was actually pretty excited about starting school before the institution quickly squashed any hope and spirit he had. It actually is kind of a tragic story, with Bart actually trying hard and actively participating. His mind is still developing, all kids minds develop at different rates, but the bitch teacher belittles this poor child at every turn instead of encouraging him. We see how words can be emotionally damaging to a boy like Bart, and how it can turn him off personal betterment forever. Poor kid.

Even before she even became a middle child, Lisa was getting overlooked, until school psychiatrist J. Loren Pryor notices her exceptional observation and critical thinking skills, and informs her parents that she is a gifted child. I’ve got to say, baby Lisa in “Lisa’s First Word” was pretty damn cute, but three-year-old Lisa is absolutely adorable. Yeardley Smith picks her voice up a bit and gives a great performance (I especially love how she mimics her father’s enthusiastic “Wave of the future!”) Of course, encouraging a gift comes with a high price tag for the local private school (Miss Tillingham’s School for Snotty Girls and Mama’s Boys) which the Simpsons can’t afford. Another possible enrichment option is to get her an instrument to fuel her creative brain, but money is pretty tight for something like that too. At King Toot’s, Lisa finds herself drawn to her soon to be beloved saxamaphone, but seeing its price, Homer must make a choice. He’s been sweating like a pig during the recent heat wave and is in dire need of an air conditioner. Will he splurge on that, or Lisa’s sax? Well, what do you think?

I’ll say my only minor complaint about this episode is that these flashback shows are getting a tad redundant. “I Married Marge” and “And Maggie Makes Three” are both episodes depicting how Homer will always sacrifice his personal happiness for the benefit of his family. The emotional impact is still here, but the third time around, it just isn’t quite as effective. But it’s kind of a theme that exists in the series proper as well: Homer is a man driven by his own selfish impulses, but time and time again he must manage to put them aside for the sake of those he loves most. So, again, a really minor issue with this great episode. The resolution to Bart’s story alleviates some of the sadness, where he finds his niche as a class clown and utters his first immortal catchphrase, “Eat my shorts.” In present day, Homer is out yet another air conditioner to pay for a new saxophone for Lisa, giving us a nice jazz tune to go out on amidst clips of her playing the sax in past episodes. It’s a nice little show, another look into the forgotten years of the Simpson family.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Mere years before Family Guy, All in the Family gets the Simpson treatment, with Homer and Marge singing their version of “Those Were the Days,” (“Disco Duck and Fleetwood Mac / Coming out of my eight track / Michael Jackson still was black / Those were the days!”)
– Nice slam on the WB (“We’re proud to present on the WB, another bad show that no one will see!”) That network never really hit its stride… and now it’s dead. But how could it with such fine programming as the Krusty the Klown Story, starring Fyvush Finkel? We learn he was apparently married to Mia Farrow at one point (“Chan Ho, your mother Mia and I are getting a divorce.” “Chan Ho is over there. I am Chin Ho.” “Whoever you are! Just pass it along, kid!”) Watching this, Homer comments, “What a bad father!” As if on cue, Maggie walks by carrying a power drill. I also love the callback later where to cheer Lisa up, Homer offers to destroy something Maggie loves. Cut to the baby clutching the drill in response.
– Homer sets the stage for our flashback, with a very knowing reference (“The year was 1990. Back then, The Artist Formerly Known As Prince was currently known as Prince. Tracey Ullman was entertaining America with songs, sketches, and crudely drawn filler material. And Bart was eagerly awaiting his first day at school.”)
– Homer tries to instill some words of wisdom onto his son as his father did him, but thinking back, he realizes they may not have been the most helpful (“Homer, you’re dumb as a mule and twice as ugly! If a strange man offers you a ride, I say, take it!” “Lousy traumatic childhood!”)
– Li’l Jimbo with the bunny shirt is ridiculously cute (“I look forward to wailing on all of you!”)
– Sad five-year-old Bart is so heartbreaking. This little kid was so full of promise that was completely dashed to bits. Not even “Curious George and the Ebola Virus” can cheer him up. A disturbing drawing of himself with knives in his back in a thunderstorm reading “SAD” raises Marge’s concerns a bit. The best scene is when she brings it to Homer’s attention. Not looking at the drawing, Homer gives an over-the-top enthusiastic reaction to how wonderful little Bart’s drawing is, which then immediately switches to horror when he actually looks it (“Burn it! Send it to hell!!”)
– I never quite got the Milhouse gay jokes considering his well-established crush on Lisa. I guess it’s commenting on the poor work of the psychologists, perhaps in trying to project themselves onto other kids? I dunno.
– I like Pryor’s advice for Bart (“Bart must learn to be less of an individual, and more a… faceless slug.”)
– The headmaster of the gifted school can’t budge on the price, unless of course they’re a minority group. Homer immediately adapts a (terrible) Spanish accent, but the headmaster isn’t fooled. Homer then shifts to Chinese for some reason, “Aah-so…” Marge’s line to her daughter (“Come on, honey, I guess this is a world you’ll never know”) is pretty discouraging. This is kind of a bummer episode up until the end.
– I like Homer’s vision of what museums are like, him playing foosball with Michelangelo’s David. He beats him and asks who’s next. The figure from Munch’s “The Scream” appears, yelling, “Meeeeeeeee!”
– Homer demands Marge to name one man who’s ever been successful without air conditioning. Marge cites Balzac, to which Homer retorts, “No need for potty mouth just because you can’t think of one.”
– Nice that we see the white Snowball I a few times in this flashback.
– Even Flanders can’t stand for Homer’s blatant thievery, ripping his air conditioner out of the wall and shoddily propping it to his. Homer is quick to defend (“I admit it looks bad, Flanders, but haven’t you heard of ‘let he who is without sin cast the first stone?'”) On cue, li’l Todd Flanders, who is definitely without sin, chucks a rock at Homer (“Got him, dad!”)
– Bart’s teacher is such a bitch (“And the ugly duckling was amazed to realize it had grown into a beautiful swan. So you see children, there is hope for anyone.” “Even me?” “No.”)
– Li’l Milhouse is pretty cute too. I love his unusually astute observation that “the world needs a clown,” inspiring Bart to be the kid he is today.
– The ever observant Lisa counts thirteen pickled eggs and one cockroach in Moe’s jar. A nervous Moe laughs, “Who are you, sweetheart, the health inspector?” The actual inspector is just a little bit down the bar. To cover, Moe offers a free margarita… that has a dirty syringe in it (“Uh, that’s a parasol.”)
– So now King Toot’s isn’t right next to Moe’s, but perhaps they moved sometime between now and the present day. Still run by the same guy though.
– I love the two inscriptions on Lisa’s saxes: “To Lisa: Never Forget Your Daddy Loves D’oh!” and “Dear Lisa: May Your New Saxophone Bring You Years Of D’oh!”
– Apu appears for no reason through the episode and sticks around… for no reason, but I still love it, especially at the very end where he appears exiting the kitchen with a sandwich (“Will you get off my lawn?” “Why don’t you make me?” “Why… oh, I give up.”)

(originally aired September 28, 1997)
This episode is a little bit controversial. And by ‘little bit,’ I mean it’s the most controversial of the entire series. Similar to “Homer’s Enemy,” people often cite this one when talking about the death of the show, how the episode spat in the faces of the fans by disrupting the established canon. I can’t say that I share the vehement hate, but I do have a couple issues with this episode. There’s a lot to talk about here, so let’s blow through the story first: Springfield is shocked at the arrival of Sgt. Seymour Skinner, who our Skinner reveals to be the genuine article. It turns out he’s really Armin Tamzarian, a Capitol City street punk who was sent to the army, where he befriended and developed a deep respect for the sergeant, then upon visiting Springfield to tell Skinner’s mother of his apparent death, assumed his identity for his mother’s sake. With the real Skinner back, Armin realizes he needs to stop pretending and moves back to the city. But Agnes, Edna and the others find they’d rather have the old Skinner back, but coming up with a solution to this issue won’t be so easy. Or they could just tie Sgt. Skinner to the flatbed of a train and send him out of town. Easy enough.

Let’s unravel this story step by step. On the whole, I don’t have an issue with Skinner being an “imposter,” and I don’t think it ruined his character. It made him a little bit richer, actually. Being under the wing of Sgt. Skinner showed him the errors of his past, and in the future as principal, he would push strict obedience so kids wouldn’t end up like he did. And as an orphan with no real life back home, I kind of get why he would want to stay in Springfield as Skinner, to preserve the legacy of a man he felt so highly of. Kind of. Now for what doesn’t make sense. Let’s just say that Agnes is the only living family member Skinner had. Springfield is a multi-generational town, a lot of people tend stick around there, so you’re telling me there’s nobody there that knew Skinner prior to being shipped out who ran into Tamzarian as Skinner and questioned this? Does Skinner sign leases and contracts as Skinner or Tamzarian? What about when he re-enlisted in the army? They must not have taken too kindly for the shenanigans. I’m willing to go half-way with a few of these points, but there’s just so many dangling issues involving a back story twist this major. Ultimately, it’s kind of a hard pill to swallow.

There’s also the issue with the real Skinner, in that we don’t really get to know him all that well. Again, I can sort of understand what they’re going for in the third act. We see the real Skinner in action, and he’s just out of touch enough with the rest of the characters that they’d feel uneasy about him and they’d want the old Skinner back. But what did he do so wrong? As a man who was a POW for decades, he took mild offense to Bart’s warped version of the pledge. And he goes out late and borrows his mother’s car. I guess that’s the point, that the characters are quick to want to get rid of this mild shake-up in their daily lives. The whole story is just so bloated and large that the final act feels rushed. We’re not sure what to make of Sgt. Skinner. He’s certainly not a bad guy, but he’s not all that nice either. When he gets the boot at the very end, you feel kind of bad for him. With someone like Frank Grimes, everything was building to the point of his demise and it fit with the running theme, but here, I’m not 100% clear on what’s being accomplished.

Any fan who hasn’t listened to the commentary for this episode should give it a listen. Writer Ken Keeler gives a vehement defense of it, in response to vicious Internet dwellers who wanted his head after its original airing. He talks about how the point of the episode may have ultimately ended up a little unclear, but it’s supposed to be a meta episode involving a shift in the status quo and the characters responding by sweeping the problem under the rug and pretending it never happened. Now I can’t besmirch Keeler. The man’s written some of the best episodes of Futurama, so he’s pretty skilled with a pen. But I will say if the aim here was to make a meta episode, they certainly kept it to themselves. Everything in the episode is handled so seriously, with dramatic music cues and scenes of serious dialogue. There’s no real wink to the audience. Call back to “Poochie” where Roy shows up to “spice up” the show, but there’s nothing like that here. All in all, it’s a very bizarre episode that misses its intended mark, but not the horribly offensive disaster many make it out to be. Skinner’s backstory may be a bit muddled, but I’d say “Hurricane Neddy” was much more damaging to Flanders than this is to Skinner. A somewhat interesting episode with a few laughs, but definitely bit off more than it could possibly chew in twenty-two minutes.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Nice opening with Skinner and his anal-retentive inspection of the school hallways. Chalmers is quite off-put (“Good lord! The rod up that man’s butt must have a rod up its butt!”)
– It’s kind of sweet at the beginning how Agnes berates Skinner into taking her out (“I’m sick of this house, and I’m sick of you!”) as a ruse to get him to his surprise party. It’s nice to see deep down she cares about her son. Speaking of, a whole other essay could be written on the degree in which she knew if Seymour was her son or not. It’s all a big tangled web.
– Lisa and Ralph tag team a presentation on Skinner’s life and achievements. Ralph brings it home (“When I grow up, I want to be a principal, or a caterpillar. I love you, Principal Skinner!”)
– Narrating his flashback, Tamzarian speaks of how in his lowlife days, it was only a matter of time before he ended up in front of a judge. Then young Armin plows his motorcycle into one (“They gave me a choice. Jail, the army, or apologizing to the judge and the old lady. Of course, if I had known there was a war going on, I probably would’ve apologized.”)
– I like that after Agnes’s dramatic proclamation “I have no son!”, Homer frankly responds, “Look, lady, obviously you have at least one son.”
– Tamzarian announces he’s giving up his position as principal. Chalmers asks the real Skinner if he’s qualified to take over (“It’s been my lifelong ambition. And if a man pretending to be me can do it, well, then, logically, the real me must be far more qualified.” “Good enough.”)
– There’s a nice moment when Tamzarian leaves; he gives Skinner back his pocket watch, noting that his mother’s picture is inside and to take care of her. Skinner responds, “I’ll wind her every day.” I feel like this is a telling line about his character, but I’m not entirely sure if I should take it positively or negatively.
– I like the opening of the third act where the news crew continually irritate Brockman, first in using the incorrect Skinner picture, then inserting the right one upside-down (“Idiots!”)
– Skinner is welcomed back to his home town with open arms, and he is quite pleased (“I must say, in many ways, Springfield really beats the old slave labor camp.”)
– Nice scene with Tamzarian working for Topless Nudes, reading off his script as flatly as possible (“Capital City’s nakedest ladies. They’re not even wearing a smile. Nod suggestively.”)
– The ending is pretty crazy. First, Homer spells out what is seemingly the point of the episode (“So he’s a fraud. I don’t care! His mom doesn’t care! Do any of you care?”) But I dunno, I kinda care. A little. Then Sgt. Skinner shows up and demands he be treated with some respect. Then they tie him down and ride him out of town. It’s just doesn’t feel right, although I do like Judge Snyder’s decree at the end (“And I further decree that everything will be just like it was before all this happened! And no one will ever mention it again… under penalty of torture.”) Skinner claims that he’s going to loosen up a bit, but the town has just made it clear that they must keep the status quo, so that ain’t happening (“From now on, you’re going to see a new Seymour Skinner!” “Oh no we won’t!” “…yes, mother.”)

(originally aired September 24, 1997)
Right at the top of season 9, we have a show we’d see plenty more of in the future: travel episodes. We’ve certainly seen the family venture outside of Springfield in the past, but many times they were tied to a larger story, like “Mr. Lisa Goes to Washington” or “Bart vs. Australia.” The Simpsons trotting the globe would become more a frequent event, almost once a season at some points, featuring isolated set pieces showing how wacky Brazil or Africa or England or wherever is. But enough grimness, this one is actually pretty good, as the Simpsons travel to the Big Apple. The lead-in is pretty fantastic; Moe is forced to instate a designated driver for the night, which ends up being Barney. Turns out it’s the worst possible night, as Moe’s receives a visit from  Duffman, the party hardy company spokesman. I was dying the first time I watched this. Hank Azaria is hysterical as Duffman, such a loud, gregarious character who loves to party down with his favorite distilled alcoholic beverage. With his “Oh Yeah” theme music and cheerleader sidekicks, he’s the ultimate macho mascot for a beer company. Such a booze-fueled fun-packed night of which he cannot partake in drives a sober Barney mad, who drives his buddies home with Homer’s car and isn’t seen again for two months. Homer eventually discovers his car is impounded in New York City, so the family makes a trip there to retrieve it.

The running bit through the episode is Homer’s fear and hatred of the city due to his one bad experience there as a youth, which we see in a glorious aged film flashback. Every bad thing that could possibly happen to young Homer does, scored and timed like a Charlie Chaplin silent film. It’s not exactly clear if he’s exaggerating any of these happenings or not, but I don’t believe so. Stranger things have happened in the Simpsons universe. Begrudgingly returning to the city, Homer warns his family about its many dangers, becoming increasingly more irate and paranoid as the episode goes on. Some may think this is pushing Homer a bit too outlandish, but I don’t think so. It’s like when one bad incident in a place you’ve been to turns you off to that place for good, except in this case, it’s put through the ignorant Homer filter. To him, New York is a town of insane people, and he’s got to get out of there before it taints himself or his family. I personally love how insane it gets in the end. I laugh so hard at the boot scraping off all the metal around the fender, and his personal satisfaction of jackhammering said boot once he’s got it off the car, at the cost of nearly destroying his entire vehicle.

While Homer is having a miserable time, the rest of the family sees the sights of the city. It’s more what we’ve come to expect later with these travel shows. With new material to mine, the writers have a field day, with plenty of great jokes: Marge marveling at lame “landmarks” like Fourth Avenue and Governor’s Island, crazy bums on the subway, Bart warding immigrants away from Ellis Island (“Country’s full!” “Alright, you heard the lady,”) and skinned rabbits in Chinatown. The highlight is when they take in a musical, “Kickin’ It: A Musical Journey Through the Betty Ford Center,” a show-stopping production on how money and fame gives you plenty of legal wiggle room (“I should put you away where you can’t kill or maim us / but this is LA, and you’re rich and famous!”) It’s such a well written number. I’ve seen a fair share of shows on Broadway, and this definitely sounds like it was pulled right out of one. This episode is a nice love letter to New York. With its good and bad representations, it does capture the aura of the city, in an exaggerated Simpsons fashion. It’s a really enjoyable watch, and definitely slides into the “good travel episode” category.

Tidbits and Quotes
– I like seeing Barney walking out of Moe’s back room with a robe brushing his teeth. In later seasons it’s revealed that he lives upstairs, on the second floor that the bar clearly doesn’t have.
– Dan Castellaneta does a great job as Barney here, getting more unhinged as his sober night goes on. I especially love when he hears the faint sounds of “Oh Yeah” in the background, he knows exactly what’s in store (“Oh no… not tonight… not tonight!!“) I also like when the drunk masses are chanting for him to chug his prize beer, he insists he’s the designated driver in a close-up shot of his crazed, sweaty eyes. Later, he expresses his displeasure to his inebriated friends spouting nonsense in the car (“Oh, that’s just drunk talk! Sweet, beautiful drunk talk…”)
– Homer’s homemade car is kind of silly, but I love his devotion to the idea (“Marge, you can stand there finding faults or you can knit me some seat belts.”)
– Lisa reads the note regarding Homer’s impounded car (“If you do not remedy this malparkage within 72 hours, your car will be thrown into the East River at your expense.”)
– Highlights of Homer’s New York flashback include the titles on the porno theater (“The Godfather’s Parts, II”) and the marquee ticker Homer reads (“Crime up 8,000,000 Percent”) before he’s pickpocketed and a bird steals his hot dog.
– The Internet picked up the unfortunate image on the magazine Lisa holds up, New York: $9, with the Twin Towers right next to it acting as “11.” As if this episode needed more unfortunate allusions. I guess I should touch on this point: given the show is centered around Homer waiting at World Trade Center Plaza, this episode was pulled from syndication for a few years following 9/11. It returned mostly intact, though I think they removed the bit with the two guys in the towers yelling back and forth, and the unfortunate line, “They stick all the jerks in Tower 1.”
– Second appearance of Very Tall Man! It’s not the best joke, but it’s great to see him back.
– I love the phone call to the parking violations bureau, with the alternating voices between cheery and gruff (“You will be assessed the full fine, plus a small large lateness fee.”)
– Ah, the classic Klauh Kalesh vendor. Highly quoted in my high school days (“Mountain Dew or crab juice.” “Ewwwwww… I’ll take the crab juice.”) Great performance by Hank Azaria too.
– I don’t think Lisa would be so naive to think the rabbits in the window wouldn’t be dead, but I like Marge’s weak response (“They’re just sleeping, upside down… and inside out…”) Also great is Bart’s hijinks caused at a Chinese vendor (“Chinese fire drill! Serious this time!”)
– Now, that the Twin Towers would only have one working bathroom each on the top floor is really dumb. And what bathroom has a giant window by the urinal where you can look outside? But whatever, I still love the frantic sequence as the ending of our second act, as of course Homer just missed the parking enforcement guy and lets out a “D’oh!” that echoes through the entire city.
– I really love how furious Homer gets as the third act goes on. A highlight is when he turns the radio on, “Everything is Beautiful” plays, and in a rage, he kicks it in, busting it.
– “Kickin’ It” is fantastic, as is the family’s commentary (“When I grow up, I want to be in the Betty Ford Center.” “You better start saving now. It’s very expensive.” “Shhh, they’re strapping down Liza Minelli.”)
– Homer goes pretty nuts at the end, trying to cut off the horse and carriage and getting whipped in the eye. It’s bordering on the crazy insane Homer of later years, but it’s all built to this point and still makes me laugh so I don’t mind. After the day he’s had, it’s understandable that he may not be in his best sorts. Then of course, the end where a twitching Homer drives across the bridge out of town behind a garbage truck, as dirty wrappers and bags of biohazard waste hit him through his smashed windshield (“What a magical city. Can we come back next year, Dad?” “We’ll see, honey… we’ll see…”)

(originally aired May 18, 1997)
Sort of like last season, we had our big flashy episode that felt like the season finale (“Homerpalooza,” “Spin-off Showcase”), but actually there’s one more left, and in both cases, it’s a Lisa episode. We begin with one of Bart’s wacky pranks going horribly awry, creating massive damage city-wide. As a result, Homer and Marge decide to send him to military school to straighten him out. Upon their arrival, the family is shocked to hear that Lisa wants to attend as well;. She’s tired of how interminably slow her public education is and seeks a greater challenge. Now, I guess I can buy this premise. The lynch pin for her is one quick scene where we see the cadets studying poetry, a class that she’s logically intrigued by. But would Lisa really be for, or want to do, any of the war training or obstacle courses? The girl got an F in gym after all. She sought an intellectual challenge at the school, and then we never see any of that stuff. I dunno, it sort of makes sense that Lisa would want to take this stance, but part of it doesn’t sit right with me.

A military school allowing ten-year-olds to wield rocket launchers and other heavy weaponry seems like it should be rife for brutal parody, but most of it kind of takes a backseat to Lisa’s story. She is immediately ostracized from the other cadets for being the only girl in the school. After a round of strict hazing, Bart is accepted into their clique, leaving him torn between being a social outcast and standing by his sister. You do feel bad for poor Lisa. There’s a particularly touching moment when alone in her barracks, Lisa listens to a tape of her mother singing “You Are My Sunshine.” This all leads to our finale featuring the final assessment: the “Eliminator,” a brutal exercise where one must shimmy across an airborne rope forty feet over beds of thorn bushes. Will Lisa be able to do it? Of course she does. The ending reminded me of “The Canine Mutiny,” where it’s all played so dramatically yet we know exactly what’s going to happen and we’re checking our watches until it’s over. Lisa briefly falters and the other cadets cheer for her to drop, then Bart steps up to cheer his sister on, which gives her the strength to finish. Hoorah.

There are a lot of bright spots in this episode though. The beginning field trip to the police station with Chief Wiggum is fantastic, with many great jokes. It also segues into Bart’s prank utilizing the dozens of megaphones, which is kind of ridiculous and cartoonish, but no more so than his shaken up beer can blowing the roof off the house in “So It’s Come to This.” Also fantastic is Willem DeFoe as the Commandant, who gives a great performance and has a fair share of hilarious lines (“Traditionally, the Academy tested these virtues by pitting you against each other in a two-day battle royale. That was prior to 1957, thank you very much, state Supreme Court.”) He gives the character a share of nuance, like his quieted confusion over Lisa wanting to enlist, and the great bit where he stubs his toe at lights out and mutters to himself as he walks out with a limp. There’s a few scattered bits of humor, but a fair share of the back half of the episode felt kind of dry. I remember seeing this one a lot in syndication, so maybe it’s dulled for me. But great episodes stand the test of dozens if not hundreds of reviewings. This one’s just… alright. I guess. It’s alright.

Tidbits and Quotes
– The beginning at the police station is fantastic, particularly of course the museum (aww…) of crime (yaaay!) The first mannequin is of “Johnny Welfare,” a dirty hippie with a joint duct taped onto his mouth. Not disobedient enough? The guitar he’s playing is stolen. And? He’s playing acid rock. And his old lady’s eating a sandwich. A baby sandwich (“She’s got the munchies for a California Cheeseburger.”) A great reference to those horrible urban legends, like where the babysitter gets so high that she mistakes the baby as a pot roast or something and puts that into the oven. Horrifying if true. I also love later that all the banana stickers are all vague representations of actual logos to avert copyrights, and that the children are so impressed by “Gorilla’s Choice.”
– The movies shown to Lisa’s class are fantastic, brought to you by Monotone Films. We catch the tail end of the sand one (unfortunately), but “The Moon of Earth” is hilarious, showing the future colonies of the moon (by 1964) and how you’ll weight considerably less there (“Slow down, tubby! You’re not on the moon yet!”) Miss Hoover took the opportunity during the movie to just bail on class altogether. Upset, Lisa goes to complain about how slow the class is to Skinner, who quickly rebuffs her (“Of course we could make things more challenging, Lisa, but then the stupider students would be in here complaining, furrowing their brows in a vain attempt to understand the situation.”)
– I love Wiggum suggesting behavior-altering drugs to Homer (“How wedded are you to the Bart you know?” “Not very.”) In a few seasons, they’d do that plot anyway.
– Homer’s childishness of throwing rocks at young children is kind of bothersome, but not so much as the fact that he throws a clump of rocks that somehow manage to hit four different kids.
– I love how the Commandant talks about the winds of change, that now there are female motorists and female singers. Progressive!
– All the other cadets seem to be older, like maybe thirteen, fourteen? So what’s with enrolling a ten and eight year old? Kind of bugged me a little bit.
– In her loneliness, Lisa is able to even wipe Grampa out of ridiculous stories talking on the phone. He can’t even pass the buck over to his fellow housemates, especially Jasper (“I’ve already talked to her twenty damn minutes.”)
– I like the bit where Bart uses analogies based off his line of vision (“I’ll just stick by you in secret. Like a sock maker secretly working on a top secret sock that…” “Will you stop looking at your feet?”)
– A really big animation cheat where Lisa’s testing the Eliminator, slips and falls… but hey, she’s on a pulley system Bart has rigged up tied to her waist, one that just magically appeared. Come on, they could have framed the shot so you wouldn’t see that.
– I do like the exchange of the cadets to Bart for cheering on his sister (“We’re going to make your life a living hell for the rest of the semester.” “But, graduation’s in three hours.” “We’d better go change!”)
– The Commandant’s best line is his graduation speech (“The wars of the future will not be fought on the battlefield or at sea. They will be fought in space, or possibly on top of a very tall mountain. In either case, most of the actual fighting will be done by small robots. And as you go forth today remember always your duty is clear: to build and maintain those robots.”)

Season 8 Final Thoughts
I was quite flabbergasted to find that Dead Homers Society cited season 8 as the tipping point of the show’s quality. Absurd. It’s a classic season! Oakley and Weinstein, the people who gave us season 7, the best season! It’s in the Complete Guide to Our Favorite Family book, for cripe’s sake! Seasons 1-8 being flawless classics had just been burned into my brain ever since I’ve been a fan, so I just thought they were exaggerating. Well… maybe not so much. Of course, none of the episodes were bad. There were just things I noticed throughout that either bothered me individually, or felt like smaller versions of things that would get exacerbated in later seasons. Lapses in story, a great number of jokes falling flat, characters acting slightly off, there were scattered problems throughout the season, though none that were that humungous and distracted from each episode. Then of course “Homer’s Enemy,” as I talked about, drew out the template for who we know as “Jerkass Homer.” But for the issues that were present, season 8 is still a tremendous season. I can complain and nitpick all I want, but the fact is that the episodes are still memorable. Homer’s chili pepper freakout. Rex Banner vs. the Beer Baron. Shary Bobbins. Mr. Sparkle. All classic Simpsons material. It’s kind of like seasons 1-7 were bright blue skies beautiful for sailing, and in season 8, the wind got a little blustery and the waves a bit choppier. But now we enter the Mike Scully era, and a storm’s a brewin’. We’re in for the long haul here, folks, but don’t worry, we’ll make it through together. Season 9, here we come…

The Best
“You Only Move Twice,” “A Milhouse Divided,” “Bart After Dark,” “Simpsoncalifragilisticexpiala-D’oh-cious,” “Homer’s Enemy”

The Worst
For the many sorted problems this season, there are only two I can point out for being specifically bad: “Hurricane Neddy” for tainting Flanders’ character, and “The Canine Mutiny” for being terminally boring.

(originally aired May 11, 1997)
“Spin-off! Is there any word more thrilling to the human soul?” Spin-offs are kind of like sequels in that they’re easy-to-green-light productions. It’s an established brand that the audience recognizes, so it requires studio heads to do less work in testing their products. They’re kind of less frequent nowadays (unlike sequels), but they were quite plentiful in the golden age of television. So here, we have three hypothetical Simpsons spin-offs, all aping a different TV show genre and featuring some of our favorite supporting players in different ridiculous scenarios. Troy McClure hosts the fourth-wall breaking show as he did “The 138th Episode Spectacular.” We haven’t heard much from Phil Hartman lately (unfortunately he’s only got a few more appearances left), and it’s such a joy to see him back again. The first show is “Chief Wiggum, P.I.,” a parody of buddy cop shows featuring Wiggum and his new partner Skinner (or “Skinny Boy”) working their new beat in New Orleans. Each one of these segments really do feel like they’re pilots to spin-offs. The first scene is so knowingly expository, with Wiggum talking about why he left Springfield and why Skinner came with, finding out he’d been a Louisiana-bred street punk all along (not as shocking a revelation as what would come three episodes from now, of course). This one doesn’t really get that great until the end, with the absolutely silly chase scene with criminal king pin Big Daddy and his hideout of the stolen governor’s mansion in the middle of the bayou. The cheesy music stings, the commercial break fake-out, the freeze frame ending with credits… the attention to detail on these tropes is fantastic.

Next up is “The Love-Matic Grampa,” where Moe finds his love tester is inhabited by the spirit of Abe Simpson, who apparently must spend his afterlife assisting him with his romantic life. The set-up is kind of My Mother the Car, but it’s more a parody of cheesy bad sitcoms in general, complete with live studio audience laughter, cheering and hooting. We start with a really neat stylized animated opening, sort of like I Dream of Jeannie or The Nanny, showing the stupid backstory that Grampa died at the supermarket and his soul was re-routed on the way up to heaven. Now he must help the incredibly lecherous Moe get a date. The premise is so absolutely ridiculous, but it couldn’t be more perfect as the conceit for a dumb sitcom. Comic situations are a-go as Moe must bring the love tester with him to his date at a fancy restaurant, carting him off to the men’s room, dressed in a tuxedo for some reason. As star of the “original” show, Homer makes a cameo appearance, to massive audience applause, which gives us a wonderfully brutal joke when he cuts the power on the love tester (“That’s the second time he’s pulled the plug on me…”) The skewering of conventions is so great. I love Moe’s smiling shrug to the camera leading to a scene change as Grampa rambles on, a non-verbal “He so crazy!” Of everything, the theme is probably the best part. I love that jingle (“He’ll fill our hearts with looooooooovve.”)

The last segment is my favorite, just because it’s the most incredibly bizarre. “The Simpson Family Smile-Time Variety Hour” is an entertainment extravaganza starring the Simpson family, borrowing heavily from 70s musical variety shows. The most direct inspiration is from The Brady Bunch Variety Hour, where the family plays “themselves,” but one member has been auspiciously replaced. “Lisa” here is a dim, vivacious teenager (“Sophomore prom queen five years running!”) but nobody seems to mind. This element just makes me envision Lisa’s falling out with the real family over this stupid show, a sorted past swept under the rug for the sake of their careers. The show is a collection of purposely horrible comedy sketches and musical numbers, intercut with quick bits from other characters, dubbed the “Springfield Baggy Pants Players.” The cheese factor is ramped up pretty high: the stilted acting, and the sorry lead-ins into sketches (“Have you wondered what we would be like if we were beavers?” “Yes!”) and the 50s diner locale of the “I Want Candy” number, which blends Jasper attempting “Lollipop,” with Smithers in Western chaps doing “Whip It,” a segment where any sliver of doubt of his homosexuality is swiftly eliminated. My favorite bit is at the end of the big number seeing the family members breathing heavily, exhausted but still keeping their big smiles for the audience. Everything about this episode is so absurd, but all three segments are so well crafted, they feel like genuine examples of the genres they’re parodying. It’s a really unique episode. The series has only gone completely meta a few times, but it’s always interesting and entertaining when it does.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Troy McClure is brilliant as the host of course. His best bits are at the beginning when he’s walking and talking and hits a dead end unexpectedly, and his introductions after the commercial breaks: act two opens with him getting caught staring at the chest of one of the Charlie’s Angels statues, and act three has him abandoning his talk with the curator of the Museum of Television.
– “Not long ago, the FOX Network approached the producers of The Simpsons with a simple request: thirty-five new shows to fill a few holes in their programming line-up.” Basically all they got is The X-Files and Melrose Place. Fair enough for the time. King of the Hill had started, but was still in its infancy.
– In a weird way, I’d like to watch all of these proposed shows. A gritty crime drama with a slightly more serious Wiggum and Skinner? Great. A cheesy sitcom with Moe? That’s excellent telvision.
– Another hand wave of unseen backstory is that Wiggum is now divorced (“It’s no cakewalk being a single parent, juggling a career and family like so many juggling balls… two, I suppose.”
– Ralph gets his fair share of gems in so little time (“These rubber pants are hot!” “Look, Big Daddy! It’s Regular Daddy!”)
– Nice cameo of sorts by chef Paul Prodhomme (“I gua-ran-tee!” “Would you stop saying that!”)
– It’s great that Skinner mentions he read about Big Daddy in Parade Magazine, and it’s even better later when the man himself lists the reference on his calling card.
– The alligator attack is so wonderfully stupid, an exaggerated version of the creative animal assassins (“Lucky for you this is just a warning gator.  Next one won’t be corked.”)
– The Simpson family has a brief cameo in Wiggum’s new show (“Chief Wiggum, I can’t wait to hear about all the exciting, sexy adventures you’re sure to have against this colorful backdrop.”)
– I love the ending of “Wiggum, P.I.” and how dumb it is. Big Daddy hurrying to sit in the main office with the chair turned around so he can dramatically turn around, the stupid dialogue (“New Orleans is my town. Nobody going to mess with me. I got interests, and I ain’t talking about stamp collecting, though I do find that extremely interesting,”) and his “Blagh!” as he throws Ralph at Wiggum and escapes out the window. I guess I should give recognition to Gailard Sartain for voicing Big Daddy, he makes the small role very memorable.
– I love the ending of the “Love-Matic Grampa” opening where Moe horns in on the titles, and flicks away an invading cherub.
– The studio audience is in full swing right away (“I’ll have you know I wrote the book on love!” “Yeah, ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’!” [audience ooooooooos!] “Ah, kiss my dish rag.” [audience laughs])
– I love the bit we hear of the start of Grampa’s ramble about how he invented kissing (“It was during World War I, and they were looking for a new way to spread germs…”)
– Moe is not exactly the most romantic guy (“You know what’s great about you, Betty, is you’re letting your looks go gracefully. You’re not all hung up on looking attractive and desirable. It’s just so rare and refreshing.”)
– Kent Brockman’s introduction to the “Smile-Time Variety Hour” (“And now, a family that doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘cancelled'”) may have been cute then, but is depressingly more accurate now.
– I really like all the Laugh-In-style interstitials, especially at the end where they have a few of them all in a row, like they had to cram them all in. The best being the shot of Captain McAlister with his hat raised (by an obvious wire) and steam shooting from his pipe (by an obvious tube system around the pipe). And of course, a poem by Hans Moleman (“I think that I shall never see, these cataracts are blinding me.”)
– I like the sign-off of the show with the family (and Tim Conway) in bed, and Marge’s seemingly signature line, “We’re like this all the time!”
– Nice nod to the fall of The Flintstones in Ozmodiar, a parody of the Great Gazoo, the weird little great alien that appeared toward the end of the series.