“Seigenthaler was a man who was a newspaper reporter, a newspaper publisher, worked with Robert Kennedy, had a long and distinguished career. Somebody put in an entry saying that he was suspected of shooting John F. Kennedy. Seigenthaler found out about it. Seigenthaler for some reason was pissed.

“Seigenthaler did not do what Wikipedians had done from time immemorial. He did not go onto Wikipedia and start editing, and join the big ball of fun. He went and published an article in USA Today, he took it out of town, and talked about this.

“This broke Wikipedia. This broke Wikipedia deep, hard and fast, because while you may look at Wikipedia from the outside as being this way, it is inside an organisation. This broke Wikipedia.”

Undoubtedly, by now most of the insiders in Daria fandom are left scratching their heads and saying, “What the hell is going on here? E.A. Smith walking away from the PPMB? Roentgen pulling all of his posts (come August)? Something about some thread being edited by somebody ... somewhere ... hell, I can’t keep up!”

To unknot this tangled Web skein requires referring to people I’d rather not refer to. These attention whores love seeing their names in print anyway. I’ll simply not mention the names, so that they’ll miss the vicarious thrill of seeing their names on the printed screen.

Rather, this is the story about the end of a message board. Which, unfortunately, is the Sheep’s Fluff Message Board, a board I formerly frequented as Roentgen. Yep. That was me, too. I mean ... Jesus. You didn’t get it? The fact that “Roentgen” is just an anagram of “not (CINC)green”?

(I would have made the best Batman villain ever, but all the great gimmicks had been taken by that time. Gotham property prices are also through the roof, and you can get mugged five times on the same block.)

Initially, the Sheep’s Fluff Message Board (if I recall correctly) was designed to sort of be the home away from home for people who didn’t get along with the board moderation at the PPMB, for various reasons. It would be the only place where adult materials could actually be posted. Finally, there would be a “Flame Wars” forum where people could let off steam about various issues.

Under Thea Zara’s adminship, the board flourished, virtually becoming a second home to the disaffected Daria fans. For once, porn, in all its sticky glory, had a place where it could be safe. There was sort of a “renaissance of porn works” initially at the SFMB, and it seemed that things were going great on that side of the universe.

However, a few things happened which sort of unhooked the hold that SFMB had on fandom at one time. I’ll mention the forces which would eventually lead to the SFMB’s decline as a co-equal to the PPMB:

• The initial popularity of the SFMB. Oddly enough, the SFMB’s hold as a unique place began to fade with its very popularity. When PPMB regulars began to mingle with SFMB regulars, they would occasionally bump into those who only knew of the SFMB and not the PPMB. Those SFMB newbies were soon dragged over to the PPMB.

The first thought, undoubtedly, of the new arrivals was: “Hey, except for porn, the PPMB has everything I want in a message board!” After a while, it became simpler to go to one place instead of two. You began visiting a place frequently, then infrequently, and then you wonder, “Hey, what the fuck happened to that place we used to go to?”

• The departure of Thea Zara from active moderation. The board never recovered from the loss of her calming influence. Deref is a nice man, and he does all that he can — but I doubt that he can separate his personal relationships from his duties as a moderator. As a moderator, you have to put your foot down, and, if necessary, piss off your friends. I don’t think Deref is capable of doing that.

Good man. Salt of the earth. Bad moderator. Those three properties are not contradictory.

• Flame Wars. Initially, Flame Wars was meant as a place to vent about, well, anyone who bothered you. The idea, initially, was that Flame Wars posts were not to get too personal, except in a jocular way where the people posting there gave as good as they got.

However, something started to happen at Flame Wars. What happened is actually rather hard to explain, and whether it would have happened sooner or later — if not for the bipolar personalities inhabiting the place — will be a matter of conjecture. My own theory, however, is that it would have happened eventually, even if Thea Zara kept a tight rein on the place.

Talking with another fan (who has very wisely stayed out of the dispute), this fan mentioned that (s)he had been on another message board, which also had areas set aside for snarky, flamey discussion. However, setting aside an area for flames and anger is like packing radioactive material in a small, densely packed container. All it takes is the slightest match, and you get fission and radioactive fallout.

The cheapening of discourse eventually spills out into the rest of the fandom. It’s as if there was a bar full of a few belligerent assholes who say, “We should kill that guy down the street,” and before you know it, there’s a pitchfork-wielding mob walking out in wait for the poor sap. It’s the worst of the mob mentality.

However, SFMB could have survived all three of those things, even the third thing, sort of crawling forward like a wounded duck. It’s the fourth thing that will eventually doom it as a message board.

• Lack of content. Frankly, there is no content on SFMB. No original content, anyway, except for pornography, and 95 percent of the fandom just isn’t interested in pornography. Or, at least, not Daria pornography, for the same reasons that they don’t read Yogi Bear pornography, because it’s just not their personal kink. They might have healthy sex lives, but they don’t want to read about Daria in the buff.

Which means that the only real content on SFMB has a very limited audience. True, the work of The Great Saiyaman is great, but I don’t know of anything I’m reading there that I just couldn’t get anywhere else.

Like it or not — content is king. Someone once said, “The most important thing about fandom is the formation of relationships with other people.” Yes, but that’s not what brings one to the fandom. What brings one to the fandom is content. Reading stories about Daria, discussing Daria, and in general, glorifying all that is Our Heroine.

Relationships feed off of that — one finds like-minded people — but really, good people can be found on any chat board.

And without content, that’s what SFMB is: the “porn and slambook” chatboard. The stories I’ve seen at SFMB are usually those mirrored from somewhere else, there only so that those who, for whatever reason, wish to limit their surfing experience to SFMB can read the latest fanfic. Most of those threads have very few page views, because most people are reading those stories at PPMB.

In the end, SFMB will end up like the Rubber Room — a small group of people chatting with each other, and very little about Daria.

I know for a fact that the two malefactors in this brouhaha can’t create content. One never created content in her life. She wouldn’t know content if it bit her on the ass. I mean, if you want to hang around with a psycho, you can have fun doing that but there are psychos on every chat room in the land.

The other malefactor hasn’t written or created anything in years. As far as the active fandom is concerned, she faded away years and years ago.

“But, CINCGREEN,” you ask (they always ask that), “why don’t you join in the big ball of fun at Flame Wars?”

I refer you to the Seigenthaler issue up above. The Wikipedians assumed that that’s what Seigenthaler would do — meet them at their ground, and join in the wonderful editing flame wars, where they would hold all the institutional cards. No. He sued them for libel. That’s when Wikipedia realized the fun was over.

It wasn’t suing that was Seigenthaler’s triumph. It was the fact that the Wikipedians figured that Seigenthaler would be forced to play their game. But he didn’t. He did an end run around them. “Rules? Your rules? I play by my own rules.” They gave him lemons, and he made a Cadillac. Masterful hacking.

“Okay, I get that,” you might ask, “but why yank all of your stuff off of SFMB?”

Well, if I don’t agree with how Deref is moderating the SFMB, and if I think that he’s enabling the worst elements there, then why would I eat up all of his bandwidth, which he has to pay for out of his own pocket, with my little curious tales? It’s sort of like having to accept a collect call from a guy who wants to chew you out — not only does the man say uncomplimentary things, but he makes you pay for the privilege. And I thought that was rather unfair to Deref. (Hey, all that space can now be used for — Flame Wars! Whoopee!)

Like it or not, there are two groups of people in any fandom. Those who create, and those who enjoy the creations. Those groups, whatever you might believe, are not equal. The second group exists because of the first. Sooner or later, everyone comes up against this iron law, this great conundrum.

The health of a fandom is directly related to how much new content is being created. The reason Daria fandom is in decline (in some quarters) is because of the lack of new content. And the way to reverse this trend is to get up off one’s hindquarters, to write, and to draw.

Labels: Essays, Fandom

Time to add some belated content. June 16, 1997 was the 10th anniversary of the airing of “Too Cute.” If you didn’t remember, you’re not alone — most people have been trying to forget “Too Cute” since it aired.

“Too Cute” was the brainchild of writer Larry Doyle. He would only end up writing one Daria episode, and it would not be the best one, by a long shot. Larry Doyle then moved on to write a few episodes of The Simpsons — not any of the really good episodes, but rather the “second half,” post-peak episodes. After his television work, he has settled on contributing to The New Yorker and Esquire and will soon have a novel made into a film.

You can find out just about everything Larry Doyle is doing here. (Oddly enough, among his many credits, he did not list “Too Cute.” I suppose even he knows it isn’t anything he’d want on his résumé.)

But first, the long and painful recap ... I’ll skip the B-plot and get to the meat and potatoes.

The second scene of “Too Cute” begins with Sandi telling a story to Joey, Jeffy, and Jamie. Sandi finishes her tale of triumph, but the boys want to hear the part about Quinn. When Sandi tells them that Quinn isn’t in the story, they ask Sandi if she could retell the story and put Quinn in it! (Cue to the look of extreme annoyance on Sandi.)

Quinn shows up, but Sandi’s not interested in speaking to Quinn. They are both distracted by hubbub regarding one of the girls at school, Brooke, who appears to have gotten a nose job of Michael-Jackson-esque proportions. The girls “oooh” and “aaah” over Brooke’s new nasal look. Brooke mentions that the nose job was performed by a Dr. Shar, who is supposedly “the best.”

Brooke asks Quinn her opinion, and Quinn says that Brooke’s nosehack is “cute.” Brooke, however, expected something superlative, and Sandi takes the chance to engineer an argument with Quinn, implying that Quinn’s remark was insincere. The argument doesn’t come to a conclusion until Sandi notices Daria and Jane nearby.

Sandi calls Daria over to get the opinion of an “average person.” Tiffany asks Daria if she thinks Brooke’s nose is cute. Brooke looks very hopeful that Daria will say something nice, but Daria’s only comment is “Don’t worry. It’ll grow out.”

Segue to the Morgendorffers at dinner. Undoubtedly, Quinn has brought up the topic of plastic surgery. Helen is against it, although she complains of a double standard, in that professional women are expected to be attractive. Jake is willing to agree with anything if it will get him out of an argument. Quinn, however, thinks her nose has “imperfections” and goes up to her room to obsessively tinker with her face.

Quinn, however, doesn’t plan on letting the matter rest. Feigning sickness, she has the school nurse call Daria out of Mrs. Barch’s class to help escort Quinn home. But Quinn doesn’t plan on going home ... she plans on seeing the esteemed Dr. Shar. She’s called Daria in for escort duty because Daria can be expected to give her honest opinion.

Quinn believes that the rest of the Fashion Club has gone to see Dr. Shar, and wonders why they went without her. (Daria can’t figure it out, since in her opinion, the Fashion Club all have noses like Quinn’s, anyhow.)

The two make it to Dr. Shar’s office and arrive just as the doctor is giving some advice to a patient who claims she can’t breathe through her nose. (The advice is for the patient to breathe through her mouth.) Dr. Shar is ...

... well, she’s a plastic surgery disaster. Bleached hair, permanent tan, cheekbones that could cut through an aluminum can, lips meant for a cow, artificial rackage. She speaks with the accent of a Southern belle and has the eternally sunny attitude to match.

Quinn asks Dr. Shar if she needs a nose job, but Dr. Shar won’t hear of it. “Oh, honey, I wouldn’t touch it ... it would be a crime against nature, and an ethics violation Dr. Shar just doesn’t need right now!”

Instead, Dr. Shar gives Quinn a hard-sell on new cheekbones. With the aid of some computer modeling, Dr. Shar shows that Quinn could be “too cute!” for just six thousand dollars. (The finished result looks absolutely nothing like Quinn, and more in line with the trainwreck Dr. Shar represents.)

Daria makes some cynical comments, and Dr. Shar proposes to give Daria a turn. Despite Daria’s protests, Daria’s picture is mapped into the computer model, Dr. Shar makes the supposed “improvements,” and we finally see that with twenty thousand dollars, Daria can be transformed into ... Quinn.

Dr. Shar tells Daria that she thinks Daria is giving up on herself. She gives Daria a box and tells her to open it when she has free time. On the return bus ride, Quinn bemoans that it will cost six thousand dollars to “fix” her, while Daria finds out that the gift Dr. Shar gave her was a pair of “Pre-Implant Temporary Bust Augmentations — For Evaluation Purposes Only.” In short ... practice boobs.

Quinn returns to school only to find that the Fashion Club are all wearing bandages over their noses — they’ve obviously been to see Dr. Shar. Sandi sarcastically claims that the reason the Fashion Club excluded Quinn was that Quinn was obviously not “shallow” — implying that Quinn considers herself better than her peers — and therefore wouldn’t need the company of supposedly shallow people like the Fashion Club.

The four girls then take notice of the arriving Brooke. It seems that Brooke has had another visit with Dr. Shar, who had performed liposuction to Brooke’s waist and added collagen to her lips. Brooke has now become “super cute.” When Brooke asks if she can join the Fashion Club, Sandi exclaims to Brooke that they might have an opening ... soon.

Jane and Daria meet at Daria’s locker. Jane asks Daria, “Show me your boobs,” but finds the plastic implants rather unimpressive. Upchuck walks by and asks what’s in the box. Daria lets him handle the “merchandise” and then tells him that the plastic sacs are breast implants. Upchuck is skeeved out and flees the scene.

Quinn then tells Daria that she has a plan. Daria will tell her parents that Dr. Shar said she needs human growth hormone. Helen and Jake will pay for the hormone therapy, but instead, Dr. Shar will take the money and perform surgery on Quinn.

Daria declines, leaving Quinn to figure out how to raise the money. Quinn attempts to raise the money by asking for donations, but her attempts are in vain — no one is going to pay six thousand dollars for Quinn’s plastic surgery.

Daria finally tells her sister that Quinn doesn’t need any kind of plastic surgery. “You’ve got the kind of looks that make other girls mentally ill. So stop it. You don’t need any plastic surgery. You’re perfect.” Quinn’s response: “Why do I bother talking to you?”

However, the Fashion Club girls come running by, hanging onto their bandages. As we learn later at the Morgendorffer dinner table, Brooke had a “nasal relapse” — her new nose caved in and all the collagen in her lips moved down to her lower lip, according to the Lawndale High School rumor hotline.

Brooke now looks “less cute than she did before,” and it doesn’t appear that Brooke will be joining the Fashion Club any time soon. Daria dryly states that everyone must be very upset about it. Quinn affirms that the Fashion Club is like a “built-in support group” for each other, and everything is back to normal.

There’s probably more than one Daria fan who has “Too Cute” listed on his or her “ten worst episodes” list. I can name several major flaws off the top of my head rather quickly:

• Poor art direction. Particularly in the backgrounds, which become particularly lazy when Daria and Quinn walk through the RxPlex. The backgrounds look as if they’ve been drawn by a particularly talented sixth grader. (Who knows, maybe the regular animators took a break and some middle schooler got into the studio?)

• Uninteresting new characters. Dr. Shar has to do a lot of heavy lifting in this episode, but she’s about as interesting as Claude and Romanica — more of an over-the-top stereotype than any kind of fascinating character. Shar’s appearance, in particular, is more appropriate for a horror movie than a comedy, and you wonder why Quinn (or anyone) would ever want to have her do plastic surgery. (I’d be afraid of ending up with extra parts.)

Part of the work to make Dr. Shar shine as a character has to be done by the voice actor, and Tracy Lee Bell gives it her all. One could almost imagine Shar as a Southern sorority girl before her med school days, as Bell gives her a genteel Southern accent. I thought Bell did fine work. She, however, suffered from the curse of “Too Cute,” as her only other known voice work anywhere else to date was for the episode “Lucky Strike.”

• A dumb B-plot. The B-plot wasn’t mentioned in the recap because it didn’t deserve a mention. Under the direction of Mrs. Barch, Kevin is required to wear prosthetic makeup to give him a horrible appearance. He then surveys the reactions of passers-by, and they are obviously horrified. Aside from moving Mrs. Barch one notch up the man-hating-harridan scale, this plot is a real time-waster.

• A crappy ending. The A-plot — Quinn’s struggle with the threat to her popularity — comes to a screeching halt with a deus ex machina of the worst kind. Brooke’s surgery goes wrong and she’s no longer cute. Even though Quinn figures that the Fashion Club should at least send Brooke flowers, Quinn appears more relieved than concerned. In fact, Quinn comes off more conceited than ever, and nothing really changes.

• Daria on the sidelines. Daria is given nothing to do. Jane is given even less to do, and Jane’s work in this episode is primarily to react to Daria as narrator.

Daria follows Quinn to Dr. Shar’s for the ostensible reason that Daria will tell Quinn the God’s-honest truth. However, when Daria makes a personal sacrifice and tells Quinn that she’s beautiful (by high-school standards) ... Quinn rebuffs her. It only makes Daria seem even more ineffectual.

• An unlikable main character. In this case, the main character is Quinn. This is Season One Quinn, the stupid Quinn, the fashion-and-popularity obsessed Quinn, the “Daria-is-my-cousin” Quinn. The only good way this episode could end is if Quinn gets her comeuppance from Daria. (They finally get it right in “Monster.”)

However, it appears we’re supposed to sympathize with Quinn. Sandi treats Quinn rather badly ... but wouldn’t you think Quinn deserves it, looking at just the last eight episodes? Quinn treats Daria badly too, blowing off her advice. Furthermore, Quinn’s desperate attempt to raise money for surgery just makes her look dumb. Compared to the theoretically more insightful Quinn, the post-“IIFY” Quinn, the post-“Lucky Strike” Quinn, this one is an embarrassment.

If we’re not supposed to sympathize with Quinn, we still get no reward, because Daria doesn’t do anything to right the situation. Only God sets things right in the end with a nasal relapse, so Quinn never learns anything.

My wife had one comment about this episode — which she had never seen since it first aired. “Boy, this is bad.” There’s really nothing else to say. No. There is. I’ll say it again. “Boy, is this bad.”

“Too Cute” will be known for one good thing: the emergence of “Evil Sandi.” The Sandi Griffin of the other episodes — of “Esteemsters,” “The Invitation,” “Malled” — wasn’t much more than a contemporary of Quinn. The Fashion Club were just a bunch of indistinguishable girls who hung around Quinn.

Larry Doyle, whether on his own or under Eichler’s direction, finally gives Sandi some personality, turning her into what would be called a “mean girl,” a person who uses her popularity to make other people’s lives miserable. It works, because many of us knew girls just like that in high school.

The show needed Evil Sandi. Not only is there a plot device that can be used to make life more difficult for the super-popular Quinn, but Evil Sandi is the first sign that the Fashion Club will be given personalities of their own (Two-Faced Tiffany and Neurotic Stacy). The only drawback would be that fan-fiction writers would make Sandi truly evil, evil at levels of cartoon supervillainy. (Maybe the fanfic character should be called “Evil Sand[h]i.”)

The argument could be made that Daria is neither as attractive nor as busty as fans would like to make her out to be, if one argues from this episode. A man in Dr. Shar’s waiting room thinks that Daria is in dire need of plastic surgery. Furthermore, Dr. Shar gives Daria some take-home bust implants, implying that Daria might be a bit underdeveloped. The remark about “human growth hormone” implies that Daria is short for her age.

And what kind of surgery did the Fashion Club members get from Dr. Shar? Are they wearing bandages over surgery, or just to hide their noses? I can’t figure that out.

Only a few good lines in this one:

Guy (complaining to receptionist at Dr. Shar’s): Hey, wait! We were here first! (sees Daria) Oh, whoa! Emergency! I understand!

Tiffany: It’s Brooke’s new nose. Isn’t it cute?
(Brooke looks hopeful, waiting for Daria’s response)
Daria: Don’t worry ... it’ll grow out.

Daria: You don’t need surgery, Quinn. (sighs) I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, and I’ll deny I ever said it, but there’s nothing wrong with you. Physically.

Jane: Oh, Daria. Don’t be shy. Show me your boobs.
(Daria shows Jane the box containing the silicone implants.)
Jane: Hmm. Why did I think this would be more interesting?

Labels: Doyle, Essays, Too Cute

For several weeks, MTV had taken Daria off the air, leaving the nascent fandom with only seven episodes to obsessively watch over and over again until the tape broke. On June 9, 1997, the eighth episode of Daria was aired, “Pinch Sitter,” and new episodes would continue week by week until the first season was finally over.

My initial goal in watching these shows was to plot the slow progress of the characters, tropes, and detail of the Daria universe from episode to episode. This involved a self-imposed restriction: namely, not to refer to episodes that took place after the most recently-reviewed episode.

However, “Pinch Sitter” is so tempting in that respect that I’ll be breaking that rule after the recap, and write about what people thought it was about, and why it might be a more important episode than one might think when one looks at the episodes that followed it.

A quick (HA!) recap ...

The show begins with Mr. DeMartino giving a lecture on the massacre at Jonestown. After a few jokes, he tells the class that he expects each member of the class to write an essay about a cult.

Quinn, who doesn’t have the “cult” assignment, has other goals — namely, to try to find someone who will take over her weekend baby-sitting commitment. She tries sweet-talking a young man named Ronnie into taking over, but Ronnie concludes that Quinn has no intention of ever going out with him, and Quinn tells him, without malice, that no, she doesn’t. She plans on going out with Skylar Feldman, whose family has a boat.

Ronnie tells Quinn that she can forget him taking over and she should ask “her sister” to babysit, as Daria doesn’t look like she’ll be having busy weekends any time soon. (This proves the Fashion Club members aren’t the only people at LHS who know that Quinn is Daria’s sister.)

Daria and Quinn discuss the prospective deal for Daria to babysit. Even though Daria “didn’t like kids when [she] was a kid,” the prospect of $6 an hour (Quinn later adds a $2-per-hour bonus) and time to write her essay is tempting. However, she’s opposed as a matter of principle to helping Quinn out with anything.

Helen, however, walks by and reminds the girls that the Morgendorffers are hosting a “couples’ night” with a “focus on teens” — and she expects both Daria and Quinn to be there. Quinn bails out because she has the “commitment” of a scheduled date with Skylar Feldman. This leaves Daria, but Daria also bails out because she has a “commitment” ... to babysit. Daria has clearly chosen the lesser of two evils.

Helen has found out that Daria will be babysitting for the Guptys — a family that usually calls Quinn as their primary babysitter. Helen feels that Quinn has broken a commitment, but Quinn complains that she accidentally “overbooked.” Helen offers to help Quinn get her time-management skills under control with a visit to time management expert Deena Decker.

Daria chats with the Guptys on the phone. After the pleasant but odd conversation, Daria imposes a $10 surcharge if she has to spend more than 15 minutes with them. Quinn, who probably knows the Guptys very well, thinks that’s fair.

Helen and Quinn show up in Deena Decker’s office. Helen and Quinn each are asked to state their list of priorities.

Helen:
1) Spend more time with the family
2) Break through firm’s glass ceiling
3) Beat Carly Fishbeck in the library board election
4) Get spice back into marriage

After Quinn states her embarrassment, Helen changes this last to “Window treatments for living room.” After Helen learns from Deena that one must be honest, she moves “Get spice back into marriage” to number one.

Quinn:
1) Dating
2) Shopping
3) Bouncy hair
4) School

Quinn is given her own personal planner. Once she finds out that it comes in coral with matching makeup accessories, she feels she can be “attractive, popular, and organized.”

Everyone goes their own way. Quinn is busy recording the bonus points for Skylar’s expensive car on her Teen Life Runner. Daria, armed with some babysitting tips from Jane, is ready to face the inevitable. Jake wishes that he could go babysit, dreading the upcoming couples’ night and its enforced sensitivity.

When Daria reaches the Gupty house, she finds that the interior and exterior are decorated with the sort of brick-a-brack from Reader’s Digest. Lauren Gupty asks Daria to wait in the living room until the Guptys are ready to leave.

While waiting, Daria flashes back to the times when someone had to babysit Daria and Quinn. The flashback scenes show:

• Daria throwing a fit because Quinn is crying and isn’t being “punished.”
• Daria and Quinn fighting on the floor, exchanging “brain” and “brat” as insults.
• Daria informing her babysitter’s boyfriend that the babysitter stuffs her bra. Quinn informs him that she’ll be ready to date ... in four years.

The Guptys finally come downstairs and introduce Daria to their “little monsters,” Tad and Tricia. They appear to be sweet, well-behaved kids. The Guptys inform Daria of their schedule for the night’s activities. The schedule is broken into fifteen-minute blocks, with such activities as “discuss current events,” “snack,” and “post-snack flossing.”

After the parents leave, Daria informs Tad and Tricia they can drop “the act.” This merely confuses them, as their abnormally good behavior doesn’t appear to be an act. Daria makes the decision to turn on the TV, but not only have all channels except for “The Forecast Channel” been locked out, the kids almost robotically recite “Commercials are bad” and “Commercials lie” whenever a commercial comes on.

While Quinn is evaluating Skylar in her planner at Chez Pierre without his knowledge, Daria deals with the sometimes-robotic, other times sickeningly sweet Gupty children. When the two kids sing a sappy self-esteem song to the tune of a worn-out record, Daria is at her wit’s end and invites the kids to play “Cemetery” — a game Jane had told Daria about if she ever ran out of things to do.

Daria waits for Jane, but Jane must wait for her ride from Trent, which leaves Daria to deal with the kids again. Tad and Tricia tell Daria that they always do what adults tell them to do. Daria asks the children what they would do if two different adults gave them contradictory advice, and the question reduces Tad to tears.

By the time Jane arrives, Daria has consented to letting the Gupty kids braid her hair — truly, it must be a major concession for Daria. Jane has no problem dealing with the Gupty kids, as unlike Daria, Jane has practical baby-sitting experience.

The Guptys ask Daria and Jane to read them a bedtime story, but all Daria or Jane can find are politically correct children’s materials and books like Mr. Potty Goes to Town.

However, there are some classic children’s tales available. Daria and Jane put their ... uh ... spin on the endings of these stories. The kids like the altered stories better, and after Daria and Jane share important information with them (such as that no one will ever ask to see your “permanent record” when you are an adult), Tad and Tricia are astounded at how smart Daria and Jane are.

“Gee, Mom and Dad never told us that people can think for themselves,” says Tricia. She, however, asks Daria and Jane that if it is true that adults can lie, how do they know that Daria and Jane aren’t liars? “You don’t ... and that’s the greatest lesson of all,” says Daria.

After Jane figures out how to unlock the channels on the Gupty TV, Daria and Jane prepare for Sick, Sad World viewing — only to have Tad and Tricia come bounding down to watch. “Just don’t tell your parents we let you stay up late,” says Daria. “Do we look stupid or something?” answers Tad. Clearly, Tad and Tricia have learned a lot from Daria and Jane.

At the Morgendorffer house, Skylar asks Quinn when they will be able to date again. Skylar is suspicious of Quinn’s note-taking, and after grabbing the planner, finds that Quinn has already scheduled her breakup with Skylar in September — because there is another boy who has a ski house.

The Guptys return, happy that Daria had no trouble with the kids. Daria turns her babysitting experience into an essay on mind-control deprogramming, and gets high marks from Mr. DeMartino. Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Gupty find out that Tad and Tricia have changed the lyrics to their self-esteem song ... and they find that they don’t know their kids as well as they thought they did ...

Over the previous seven episodes, Daria had been written as a “Bugs Bunny” type character. One who basically would like nothing better than to be left alone, but forces disturb her tranquility, so Daria makes sure to set things straight in the end.

This is probably the first episode of a truly pro-active Daria. Unlike previous episodes, Daria was actually given a legitimate choice (so to speak) — she could have attended couples' therapy night, or could have babysat. Not much of a choice, but at least she was not being compelled to choose one outcome over another one.

This is also the first episode of the “Babe in the Woods” trope. This occurs when a character meets another character who doesn’t seem to have any practical knowledge about ... well ... anything. The second character is completely clueless, and the first character resolves to set the second character straight about modern life. Shows like Mork and Mindy, Taxi, and Perfect Strangers used this trope over and over again.

Daria finds Tad and Tricia’s sheltered life rather disturbing, until the end, where Daria and Jane make the deliberate choice to “deprogram” the kids. Tad and Tricia are given a bit of street smarts by Daria and Jane, and a bit of sassmouth at the end, and this change in them is portrayed as a change for the better.

Up to this point in the series, we really don’t know what Daria stands for. We know what she doesn’t like, but only with “This Year’s Model” did we get any impression that Daria had any core beliefs of her own.

Fans, however, seemed to draw the wrong lesson from “Pinch Sitter.” They came to believe that Daria was an advocate of subversion of the status quo, a person who wanted everyone else to be as cynical and suspicious of authority as she was.

Most of the early fanfic reflected that, with Daria in opposition to something that was too “normal” — say a prom, or a dance, or some sort of school competition — and working actively to undo it or destroy it because it displeased her.

How fans got the conclusion from “Pinch Sitter” that Daria was some sort of anarchist — a person who is in opposition to authority because it is authority — is unknown. But that conclusion seemed to fit the pattern of the “Daria Triumphant” fan fiction of the first two seasons, and, oddly enough, might have cemented Daria’s popularity with the fans.

Daria was now a combination of misanthrope and crusader, and what was worse, she could put on and take off these roles whenever it seemed convenient for the writer.

“I am cool, and that is it, and everyone else is full of” ... shit. A motto used for humor at the end of the episode, but unfortunately, too many fans took it seriously. It could have been the motto of much of early Daria fanfiction, and, unfortunately, it became the personal motto of some of the fans in early fandom.

As it turned out, this was the second episode written by Anne Bernstein. It’s a funny episode, and it has a lot of funny lines, but it never explores any consequences of this change in Tad and Tricia’s behavior.

I suppose it was a smart thing for Ms. Bernstein to end the episode where it was ended. I don’t think it would have been that funny for the viewers to see the Gupty parents take away the record player and ground the kids for a week for being potty mouths. (Also notice that Daria is never asked by the Guptys to come back and babysit again over the next fifty-nine episodes.)

Indeed, it’s not an episode as complex and as rich as “The Invitation,” the first episode written by Ms. Bernstein. The only enlightening parts of the episode were a look back into the relationship between Daria and Quinn — a relationship that had apparently always been acrimonious — and a look at Daria’s complete inability (at first) to deal with or understand children. Her discomfort at the Guptys’ is palpable.

Part of the problem with the episode was the choice to end it with some kind of moral. The danger in ending an episode with a moral when there is no obvious moral to be found is that a writer might choose the wrong moral — and the fans picked up the wrong moral and ran with it for two years.

It would have been a much stronger and more realistic episode if, like “The Invitation,” the episode ended with no moral, just a wacky story about Daria’s bizarre experience in babysitting the Gupty children. (The punchline could have been that the Guptys wanted Daria back!)

... And now we look back, using the knowledge of future episodes to examine this particular episode.

My first comment is that Lester and Lauren Gupty are not malicious parents. They might be overly protective, and a bit misguided, but one gets the sense that they love their children and care for them. One also gets the sense that this feeling is reciprocated, and that neither Tad nor Tricia hate their parents in any way or resent them for their overprotectiveness.

Further proof is that Daria writers Sam Johnson and Chris Marcil dust off the “Babe in the Woods” trope and use it again in “The New Kid.” Once again, we have a character that seems clueless of the world around him — in this case, the character is Ted DeWitt-Clinton.

However, Ted’s parents are not just overprotective, but actively paranoid about the dangers of the outside world, believing that the Beatles and chewing gum have the power to lead their sweet, innocent Ted to become a corporate sellout and a Tool of the Machine™.(It’s kind of odd that Daria isn’t as willing to “subvert Ted’s paradigm” as she was willing to “deprogram” the Guptys.)

I’ll even play Devil’s Advocate: How in the fuck was it Daria’s business to do what she did with the Gupty kids? The Guptys never asked Daria for their help in child rearing. The Guptys could argue that Daria seems like a miserable, distrustful, and unfriendly person at heart ... so why do Tad and Tricia need Daria’s philosophical advice?

We can argue about that later, but the fact is that Tad and Tricia are only about six or seven years old. They’re not that capable of making adult decisions, and Daria and Jane’s misguided attempt to help might lead Tad and Tricia to implicitly distrust authority figures that might have their best interests at heart.

At some level, Tad and Tricia need protection from the outside world, and the only real argument is how much protection they need. Do they need to be turned into cynics when they still believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny? (Or perhaps, in the case of the Guptys, when they still believe in the Kwanzaabot?)

When I saw this episode with my wife, she suggested another motive for Daria in doing what she did — jealousy. Yes, the Guptys are overprotective. But they also love their kids and probably have a great deal of involvement in their children’s lives.

Whereas Daria has, till this point, been the victim of parental neglect. For most of Daria’s youth (“Boxing Daria”), Jake had been the breadwinner and primarily an absentee figure in the children’s lives. Now, the roles are reversed, and Helen is the breadwinner and workaholic mom. For most of Daria’s and Quinn’s lives, either one or both parents have simply not taken part in building Daria and Quinn as people.

Jake has paid the heavier price. Now that he is a “consultant” (a lousy one who makes no money), you would think he has all the free time in the world to get to know his kids. The problem is, his kids are now teenagers and he’s been absent for so long that he can’t connect. (“Cat’s in the Cradle” cues up in the background.)

He doesn’t even know the most essential information about Daria or Quinn, and now prefers to hide from any sort of conflict that might illustrate just how absent a figure he’s been. Or he prefers to drown his sorrows in a martini and ruminate as to how his own absent and emotionally abusive father destroyed him.

Helen still tries to be an influence in the lives of Quinn and Daria, although “Psycho Therapy” implies that she’s essentially given up on Quinn. But she’s like Jake — she really doesn’t know how to relate to them, except professionally at first, when she rides to the rescue like Custer’s cavalry on horseback to provide use of a legal threat to Ms. Li in “Arts ’n’ Crass.”

Only later in the series does the relationship between Helen and Daria reach the point where Daria doesn’t automatically assume the worst of Helen.

As for Jane, her parents have been absent in the truest sense of the term — physically absent. Amanda and Vincent are essentially self-centered hippies who, for all of their cant about peace and togetherness, see no problem with hiking to Iceland and literally abandoning their own children like feral cats who can take care of themselves.

Jane’s parents simply lack any sense of responsibility, and this ethos has filtered down to all of the Lane children in one way or another, with Jane being the only child who has a chance to escape it.

So maybe there is a tinge of jealousy — or, if not, a tinge of sadness and regret — in Daria and Jane. It’s an interesting thought, that Daria and Jane might be hurting more than helping.

The story of the back relationship between Daria and her parents is much more interesting than the story being told in “Pinch Sitter.” Indeed, the “B story” of Quinn’s time-management skills falls flat. One suspects that it’s a prop that’s used to hide the weaknesses of the “A story,” but only serves to illustrate those weaknesses all the more clearly.

This is the first (and only) appearance of Skylar Feldman, who was pressed into the role of “Figure of Menace” in Martin Pollard’s “Sins of the Past.” To this day, Skylar is still seen as some fundamentally bad person ... although from what I can see, his only sin was that he was even more conceited than Quinn is.

Of course, in terms of the lines and dialogue, “Pinch Sitter” is one of the funniest Daria episodes ...

Ronnie: You want me to take over your baby-sitting job?
I’m not sure, Quinn.
Quinn: Please?Just this once? You’re the only person I can
trust to do this, Ronnie. I can tell by your eyes ...
Ronnie: Really?
Quinn: Yeah! They’re so ... sincere!
Ronnie: Well ...
Quinn: And your face, it’s very ... honest! You’re so nice,
and dependable, and ...
Ronnie: “Nice”? “Sincere”? ... You’re never gonna go out
with me, are you?
Quinn: ... No.

Jane: Hey, there’s Quinn with one of her many admirers.
Daria: She’s well liked among classmates of both sexes,
and yet, strangely, she turns my stomach.

Ronnie: Skylar Feldman?
Quinn: His family has a boat! It’s almost summer!
Ronnie: Yeah, right. Ask him to baby-sit for you.

Quinn: But I didn’t mean to double-book. It’s hard to keep
track of dates when you’re attractive and popular!
Helen: I can’t have another fiasco like last Saturday night.
Think of how it must have felt when those three boys all
showed up here at the same time!
Quinn: It felt great!

Jake: Hey, Daria, where are you going? It’s couples therapy night!
Daria: Baby-sitting job, Dad.
Jake (to himself): ... wish I had a baby-sitting job ...

Daria: Your parents put one of those lock-out things on here,
didn’t they? All I’m getting is “The Forecast Channel” ...
Tad and Tricia: Yay! The five-day report!

Quinn: Oh, Skylar, you’re number one in my book ... by
fourteen points!

Tricia: Sugar is bad.
Tad: Sugar rots your teeth.
Tricia: Sugar makes you hyper.
Tad: Hitler ate sugar.

Jane: “All hail, Pippi Longstocking!” Hey, Trent, come look at this!

Lauren: I just love the new picture in your living room!
Daria: You were at my house?
Lauren: Yes, and we had a breakthrough tonight ... your father cried!

Mr. DeMartino: Brittany, although your topic — “The Cult of Abs” — was an intriguing one ...

Labels: Bernstein, Essays, Pinch Sitter

I’ll make an assessment, falling short of an outright prediction: The Daria [fandom] Wiki, newly adorned with a spiffy logo showing Our Heroine, has potential.

That potential, unfortunately, is for it to become the most divisive element in what’s left of the fandom. I wasn’t around to see most of the earlier battles first-hand, but I’ve read many of the words in their wake by now, and I’ve seen their like in other fandoms.

From what I’ve gathered, battles over this wiki may rival “Trent vs. Tom,” “Shippers vs. Dramatists,” and, yes, even “Everyone vs. CINCGREEN.”

I’ve not been much of a fan of wikis, either in theory or in practice. I said so directly to Jimmy (Jimbo) Wales, the man who put the Big Kahuna of wikis, Wikipedia, on the map. He and I corresponded for several years, both privately and, through an individualist-oriented list, in public.

When the idea of Wikipedia was broached, it tried to take up a potent notion from free-market economists, that of a spontaneous or emerging order. Many elements of our lives end up being organized not by someone being in control, but by millions of individual choices interacting to produce a larger phenomenon. “By human action, but not by human design.” Marketplaces, languages, and most scientific interplay all tend to function this way.

Jimbo thought that an encyclopedia could be assembled this way — by setting only the broadest of ground rules, creating a foundation for funding, and letting millions of contributors write on what interested them or what they were trained to do. With everyone being able to edit every page.

I saw this as being highly dubious, and said so. It suggested that not merely a workable set of interactions, but a reference work of considerable authority, could be created by millions of edits that had no standards applied to them. It ignored that even in an emerging order, parts of it would only become stable by human design and guidance. That’s why, even though language is “alive,” dictionaries are still published to record and frame usage.

Jimbo thought my concerns were excessive, and proceeded with it all nonetheless. I have to say, now, that we both ended up being correct, in different ways. Wikipedia has pulled in many knowledgeable people, despite their work often not standing for long as they’ve written it — often at considerable effort.

On the other hand, an intricate apparatus of rules and procedures has grown up by mutual consent, making it much less spontaneous in its organization. Order has indeed been emerging, often painfully slowly.

What has fueled an enterprise of that size, though, has been that it’s tried to cover nearly everything, in an audacious way that hasn’t been seen in nearly 250 years, since the height of the Enlightenment and the French “encyclopedists.”

And the Wikipedia project has drawn on vast numbers of participants from every walk of life. That’s usually diluted personal enthusiasms from skewing vast portions of it one way or the other.

Dariadom, sadly, doesn’t have millions in it. It probably never even had thousands. It has a few hundred, by now, if that, all with passion for one series. And such a project is weakened, and personal conflicts magnified, if it’s ruled by enthusiasms.

I’d say the most daunting weakness of the Fandom Wiki, thus far, is quite simple. Everyone involved knows each other. That is, outside of the wiki. Few do, by contrast, at Wikipedia, where pretty much all that one can be is what one posts.

Here, though, all the participants have longer or shorter connections elsewhere, mostly over fanworks, but also through general discussions. Those provide an illusion, a common and seductive one on the Net: We often assume that we know all about others’ contexts and scope of knowledge. Well, we don’t.

Those who share a more abstract interest, in tussling over a Wikipedia entry and its nuances, have more of an incentive to stick to the facts. Especially when the object of their struggle is a third party, event, institution, historical fact, scientific issue, or public figure.

Those who share an enthusiasm, as with Dariafen, have glosses from their passions and personal interactions to add to the mix. And the subject matter involves other human beings more directly, not as third parties. Those factors make it far harder to be objective.

The wiki is too personal, in more than one sense. Some who’ve described themselves have gone on at nearly absurd lengths. Others are loath to edit such pages. Their subjects are known from elsewhere, and sparred with on message boards, and why would such edits be made, if they would endanger other relationships?

On the other hand, some are quite ready to classify others into categories that they see as being appropriate, ignoring that others are, indeed, more than what they post. Trying to create something “objective” tramples on the richness of viewpoint and nuance that is often readily available.

I’ll give my own example. The entry at the DFW describing me was initially set up by someone else, who not only noted (some of) the facts of what I’ve done in Dariadom, but also felt compelled to add some categorizing. I was, supposedly, a “fan-fiction prescriptivist” and a “controversial figure.”

Well, I demur on both points, and for different reasons. I’ve sought definitions and contrasts in fan fiction, trying to get a handle on what starts to diverge in excess from the original material, not to “prescribe” what others should do, but to make a stab at paying proper respect to the original creators.

And as to “controversy,” I find that difficult to measure. Anyone with pointed or unsheathed opinions, especially about art, is going to have others who aren’t pleased with them. To say that personal pique is the same as principled disagreement makes no sense. Controversy, as such, also measures someone by how others react to them, not by what he or she says.

I removed such categorizing. I didn’t want it, and I placed a statement on the “talk” portion of the page about me that said so. (That’s not the same as the personal page which exists from having registered as a member of the wiki project. I posted it there, though, as well, for reference.)

The category-building around other people has proceeded vigorously, though. Not everyone seems to mind. Where this spills over into weakening the project is where “edit wars” go on, especially involving personal descriptions.

One such war is raging at the moment over Stacy, the character, and her partisan Starmeshelion. Too many of the words, changes, and reversions are made because some have a general revulsion to Stars’ particular enthusiasm. He wants to highlight shades of opinion that he sees as distinct, and others are removing them or making them appear less important.

Why, though, are they doing so? Is this from being genuinely concerned that a discussion of Stacy is going astray? Is it from being frustrated or annoyed with Stars for his concerns or wording, or for his demeanor elsewhere? It’s difficult to separate these issues.

You can’t easily create a reference work with a “neutral point of view,” or even make a stab at it, when personal assessments are ground into the mixture. Either in citing others’ takes — or what one thinks are others’ takes — on a subject. Or in ruling out discussion aspects because someone else’s enthusiasm is annoying. That’s why detached, neutral editors and writers exist.

Nobody, though, is detached at this Fandom Wiki. Too much is bound up with every major player having commented on, joked with, beta-read for, or battled with the other players in other forums.

It makes for a fun “club,” or, as one DFWer said at the PPMB, “All the cool kids are there.” Yet the push toward a reference work heightens the battles, and risks blowing up personal differences beyond their real importance.

I’d hope this doesn’t come true, but for now, I see too much potential for real, complex, living people to be hurt by what others want to do to describe them, or to put them in verbal boxes, at this wiki.

Nobody who doesn’t share the enthusiasm for the series is present, or is likely to even visit ... just the “cool kids.” I’d say that objectivity requires more than a few who aren’t passionate, if only to drive by and say, “You’re being too personal here.” Or, for that matter, “You really need to clean up your grammar and spelling.”

It’s a paradox: A tool for insiders may be made better only by being shaped, in part, by outsiders.

We’ll see what happens. I wish the project well, but more to the point, I want to see the fans taking part in it remaining civil with one another.

Labels: DariaWiki, Essays, Fandom

On one of the message boards, one of the posters wrote:

Hell, bring it up. Just another long-standing example of how it’s becoming less and less fun being in Daria fandom. There’s the occasional fanfic, but aside from a burst of posts over the past couple of weeks. ... This was supposed to be about having fun.

Combine that with Martin Pollard’s decision to no longer update Outpost Daria, and the question in the header comes to mind: Is Daria fandom less “fun” than it used to be?

The approach of a sophist might be: Define fun. Such an approach doesn’t go anywhere, as “fun” is an essential idea, one that can only be defined by words that already mean close to the same thing as “fun”: “enjoyable,” “pleasurable,” “amusing.” I suppose the question we’re asking is really a question made up of other questions:

1: Are the people as nice as they used to be?
2: Are the stories better?
3: Is the discussion more interesting?
4: Does the general atmosphere promote pleasantness?
(And is “pleasantness” a real word?)

So let’s take these one at a time:

1: Are the people as nice as they used to be? I chuckle at that one. Frankly, I’ve never known the people in Daria fandom to be particularly nice at all. That’s not particularly a problem. Some people just like to argue, and some people take great pleasure in being assholes.

I mean, face it. Our object of worship is a cynical, sarcastic teenage girl who pretty much rejects any concept of “niceness.” You might get a “Hi” out of Daria if you seem particularly smart, and don’t say anything that could be construed as stupid.

That might be a big problem in Daria fandom — it attracts people who are drawn to its anti-social character, people who are themselves anti-social, or people who see themselves in real life as being opposed to some outer authority.

I remember when Daria fandom used to be much nastier than it is today. There was a lot of “clueless newbie” abuse and the Masters of Fandom had formed very tight cliques — and they weren’t averse to making the “argument from authority,” either. What was the worst part of it all is that most of those same people patted themselves on their back about how much nicer and kinder they were than other real-life people! (Despite, of course, bragging about how sarcastic they were during some real-life situation or another.)

Face it — today, Daria fandom is a quantum leap nicer. The administrators at PPMB generally make an effort to be nice to people — no matter how new, how clueless, or how obnoxious those people might be. The more egregious offenders have left of their own accord (and in some rare cases, been driven out). People who wouldn’t have been tolerated for three message-board posts in the old fandom are encouraged in the new one. (Sometimes, sadly encouraged.)

If you have a beef with one particular überfan, well, that might not make your experience pleasant. Generally, however, I claim that Daria fandom is a nicer place than it used to be.

2: Are the stories better? The stories are better, definitely. I think, however, that we’re seeing a general movement away from fan-fiction writing, and that is not better.

I’m to blame for part of this. In the old days, people would just submit any old turd to fanfiction.net, stuff that was barely spell-checked, much less beta-read. There was a whole lot of fanfic out there. A whole lot of it wasn’t good, but there was a freedom of expression not seen in today’s fandom, a willingness to throw any old crap out there and see if it sticks.

After a while, however, I’ve noticed (and contributed to) a decreased tolerance for bad fan fiction. It’s not as if there’s an army of CINCGREENs out there saying, “Boy, that story you just wrote was a frozen shitsicle.” Rather, the old fandom was more of a Special Olympics — “Everyone gets a prize for bad fanfic!” You could write anything and get ten people praising you for how great it was. (Then again, I’m sure people were just glad to see fanfic of any kind.)

Today, I’ve seen some fanfic not get any comments at all, either at PPMB or at fanfiction.net. Were those stories bad? I don’t know, but there’s no ego-boosting going on. This has good consequences, but it also has bad consequences.

Frankly, people want to be recognized for their work, else they wouldn’t write fan fiction at all. There has to be some way to say, “I acknowledge your work, and I’m glad you wrote it — I just don’t think it’s as good as it could be.” (But try posting that, and see what reception you get.)

Furthermore, people like E.A. Smith and The Bug Guy and The Angst Guy might have also had an inadvertently detrimental effect on fan fiction. The Angst Guy, for example, ruthlessly edits his work and always has it beta-read. He brings his skills as a professional writer to the task, and the quality of his work clearly shows.

The results are works that are so polished that they might intimidate a beginning writer. “I’m not going to be able to write something as good as ‘Darkness’ or the ‘Love’s Labours Trilogy,’ so why should I try?”

I don’t know how to solve this problem. I don’t know if there’s any solution. Maybe I simply ought to do as Kara Wild once suggested, and start reviewing fan fiction again, so at least the fandom will be talking about fan fiction as opposed to talking about other scattered interests. (Of the six forums on PPMB, only two are devoted to fanac.)

3: Is the discussion more interesting? I think the discussion is more or less the same. It’s worse in some ways, better in others.

I’ll explain. If you’ve been kicking around fandom as long as I have, it seems that everything has been “talked out.” Everything has been debated to death. “Where is Lawndale?” “Are Daria and Jane gay?” “Why did Daria kiss Tom?”

All of this stuff has been asked and answered and asked and answered, to the point where some of the more obsessive fans (i.e., most of us) feel that the “text” of Daria has been examined to the nth degree. Most fans have already formed strong opinions on certain canon matters, and it would take a very persuasive argument to budge us from those positions.

On the other hand, side discussion is more interesting because I think the people are, well, smarter now than they were in the past. The people who were in fandom in 1999 are eight years wiser and just a little bit smarter.

Furthermore, the fans that moved in afterwards were real intellectuals, and not just poseurs — the newcomers were people well-versed in medicine, or politics, or philosophy, or the arts. You couldn’t just get away with flimsy arguments on certain topics, because there was someone who could quote chapter and verse at you. When reading these arguments, one did not get the sense one was being lectured to. Rather, one could “learn something new every day.”

So is the discussion more interesting now than it was in 1998? That depends. What do you want to talk about?

4: Does the general atmosphere promote pleasantness? Note that this is a different question than “Are the people nice?” You can have nice people in a bad atmosphere. People make up part of the atmosphere, but not all of it.

For some reason, I want to say, “No, it really doesn’t.” It’s simply an initial impression. There’s nothing truly vibrant out there in Dariadom.

I believe one of the reasons is that we have downgraded Daria fan art to a subgenre. Fan art is tucked away more than it is out in the open. There’s an absence of an aesthetic. The format of the PPMB is dull gray. The format of the SFMB is blue-on-black eye-strain-o-vision.

I don’t have a really good answer to question 4. Maybe you do.

Labels: Essays, Fandom

Sometime at around 11 pm Eastern Standard Time, Martin Pollard, webmaster of Outpost Daria, told the assembled fandom (or at least, that part of it that assembled at the PPMB) that he would no longer be updating Outpost Daria. It was not so much of a “Boy, I don’t really want to do Outpost Daria anymore” post but a sort of a “So long, Mac — I’m getting away from it all” message.

Chat rooms immediately erupted in wild accusations, with friendships broken as fast as someone could type a frowny-face emoticon. There was wailing and gnashing of teeth on the message boards.

Long-time fans like E.A. Smith suddenly began randomly picking fights with passersby on the street like a crazed jackal, the skin of his victims neatly wedged underneath his sharpened fingernails, as he roamed the streets in a caffeine-fueled frenzy. They had to call the tranquilizer gun in for Richard Lobinske, who at the last report was holding off police with a flit gun filled with DDT, his clothes in tatters, cackling like a madman on acid ...

Okay. That’s a bit of hyperbole. Nothing like that happened, although it would have been much more interesting if it did. The mood seems to be like that of a man who has been told he has terminal cancer — everyone thinking, “What other bad news am I going to get? Wife leaving me? Dog humping my daughter? Bush doesn’t leave in 2009?”

Before I wax about the greatness of Outpost Daria, let’s get the hedgehog out from under the bush. Martin Pollard and I have not ... uh ... gotten along, to put it mildly. For the longest time, I didn’t like Martin, and I’m sure Martin didn’t like me.

I also don’t know exactly how we stand now. I think we have a better appreciation for each other’s accomplishments — this comes with age, when you realize that you treated the most trivial of stuff like it was the most important thing in the world, which, of course, it was at the time.

So I’ll get my parting shots out of the way before I talk about the good stuff and this new crisis in fandom. I thought Martin frankly could be a real dick towards new fans (he has mellowed out a bit over the years, though). I still don’t like “Sins of the Past,” but I suspect that Martin probably didn’t mean for anyone to interpret it the way I noticeably did, so, no, Martin is not a secret rapist.

I thought his picking and choosing of “Featured Authors” was the most pretentious thing on Earth, but he changed even that, putting Thomas Mikkelsen in the Martin Hall of Fame and opening the whole process up to fan input. And since he pulled back from his involvement in day-to-day PPMB chat, I can’t even nag him for throwing his weight around (figuratively) in chatroom arguments. (My wife, however, still has not forgiven Mr. Pollard. C’est la vie.)

My damnation of Martin was that he was a BNF — a Big Name Fan, with all the good and the bad that entails. My focus was on the bad, but now, let’s focus on the good.

I’ve said for the longest time that you can never be a self-proclaimed BNF, as BNF-hood is thrust upon you, and Martin was definitely big name as a fan. Hell, it’s hard to even imagine a Daria fandom without Martin taking an active role in it, and my mind boggles at the prospect.

Outpost Daria was the ultimate fan shop. Always had been, even when I started lurking about the fandom in 1999/2000. Part of this is because Martin is one of the few fans who have been involved since the very beginning, the veteran of a thousand fannish wars.

When other fans’ sites went down, such as alt.lawndale, who was there to pick up the slack? Martin was.

When the Lawndale Commons message board went down, who was there to provide an alternative message board, which was the Outpost Daria message board? Martin was.

When Outpost Daria was “Foxed,” a lesser man might have just said, “Fuck it, I’m getting out of here.” Martin didn’t. He hung in there and saw it out till the end.

When fans needed to know something important or juicy, who got the word out on the message boards? At alt.tv.daria (when it was still one of the first fan stops)? Who got the word out in the #daria+ chat room? Martin did.

In short, if service to the fandom over the years could be measured in Girl Scout badges, Martin would probably have to wear a badge-covered suit instead of a sash. And the odd part is that these aren’t just mindless superlatives. The record speaks for itself.

This is why Martin is a BNF in the good sense of the term. The fandom, frankly, would not be the way the way it is today, might not have even survived, without the tireless work of Martin and others like him. And to hear that Martin is abandoning the post is sad — but face it. Martin has reached the stature where he doesn’t owe anyone any explanation. He can just say, “I’m leaving, you’re going to have to work out these issues on your own. I’ve done enough for fandom, thank you.”

And what issues? Think about this. The scripts. The fan art. The fan fiction, most of which is probably the only record of any fannish activity before 2000. Some of that stuff is irreplaceable. Granted that a lot of it is probably not worth reading, but how’re we gonna know if it isn’t there to look at? Hell, in five years, people might be saying, “Michelle who?” “Invisigoth who?” “Thomas who?”

I’m chuckling, thinking about the massive pain in the ass it’s going to be to copy and store the contents of the site. Right now, fans are praying that Martin will turn over the contents and the domain name to someone else, ’cause if he don’t, then someone is going to have to bite the bullet and, you know ... actually ... do something, instead of just talking about doing something. (I hear Eccles has volunteered his site. “Poor blighter,” as WWII pilots might have said.)

Well, they call it “crunch time” in football. Let’s see if anyone actually steps up and takes on the mantle of being the Number One Daria website, or if people just sit about and watch Outpost Daria blow away like dust in the wind.

Because without a channel actively showing Daria, and without a premier fan site, all we’re left with is the PPMB. Either this generation of fans is going to step up to the mike and throw down, or the fandom is going to go under, collapsing under the weight of its own apathy.

(“But, CINCGREEN,” you say, “how come you don’t step up, huh?” You’ve gotta be kidding. I’m hitting middle age, and running an Outpost-Daria-like site is a full-time job, with no pay, and fans biting your ankles because you posted their fic in Times New Roman instead of Arial. I want my ankles kept clean. Let some young stud or studette step up and do the job.)

So what brought this ugly mess on? Of course, I gotta speak out, because the words are already being said in other places. Might as well get the shameful mess out in the open.

Apparently, at some point, Martin decided to host the Kara Wild/Glenn Eichler interviews on his website. Kara wanted those interviews removed from Martin’s website. Kara stated that those interviews belonged to her, and they would pretty much be the exclusive property of DVDaria. She told him that he was being a very bad person for not removing those interviews post-haste.

From what I can tell, several things happened after that:

a) Martin packed it in,
b) Martin has not removed the interviews (this might not be true, as I can’t find them on the site), but
c) Martin removed all of Kara’s fics.

Martin ain’t saying nothing. But you can draw your own conclusions.

Now, I’ll be up front with you. If I had been in Kara’s shoes ... I would have just friggin’ let it go. I mean, really ... how many fans do you think were going to find those interviews on DVDaria? Maybe three, tops. Hell, I don’t even visit DVDaria but once in a blue moon. MTV ain’t putting out those DVDs soon, and MTV has frankly turned its back on us. You might as well replace the site with a four-word blurb, “DVDs ain’t out yet.”

If the interviews had stayed on Outpost Daria, at least people would have seen them. Dunno. Tough call if I’m in Kara’s shoes, but I’d probably just overlook it, unless Martin had somehow claimed that he was the one doing the interviewing.

Was Kara in the right to ask Martin to do that? From what I understand, yes. (And please, let’s not chat about copyrights and fanworks and trademarks and Acuff vs. Rose because it makes my ass hurt. As far as I’m concerned, we’re all thieves. The minute I wrote down the name “Daria Morgendorffer,” I committed a crime, possibly in Albania.)

Was Martin in the right to do what he did? Yeah, ’cause it was his site, dumbass. He pays the electric bills, so let’s not get pissed when he flips the switch. Hey, he’s even agreed to keep the lights on till December. Then, he releases the hounds. He could have just left without a “by your leave” and everyone would be sitting with their thumbs up their asses, wondering what to do next.

However, I don’t think it was a dignified way to go out. Not at all. Kara was a jerk taking a private manner public. If she was going to go after Martin’s jibblies, she should have just said, on the PPMB, “Look, please take all of my stuff off your site, and now. Gracias.” If people wanted to know why, it should have been a matter for private messaging. Not “I’ve asked you three times, and if you don’t do it ... well, I’ll ask you again, and really loudly!”

Martin was a jerk by, in effect, taking his ball and going home. Maybe ... oh hell, I don’t know, maybe both sides could get together, and ... oh ... I don’t know ... apologize! (“But I’m in the right! But I’m in the right and GOD AND MAN MUST KNOW THAT I’M IN THE RIGHT!” — the motto of every fandom, everywhere.)

All right. I, CINCGREEN, have officially become the voice of reason of Daria fandom. You’ve finally broken me. God, I hate you all. “When the gates of Hell are full, the dead will walk the earth, and CINCGREEN will be the voice of reason, and Lynn Cullen will walk the land, without let or hindrance.” *

Anyway, as Cypress Hill wisely said, “I ain’t going out like that, I ain’t going out like that.” And Martin ... well, he shouldn’a gone out like that. It besmirches his legend. But, as I said before, Martin has reached the stature where he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation.

So shine on, you crazy diamond. I’ve battled you many a day, and like Patton saluted Rommel, I salute you and thank you for at least nine or ten years of service to this fandom. I hope your health improves, and ... well, Martin, you know what they say ... “You don’t leave fandom, fandom leaves you.”

So ... if fandom hasn’t quite left you yet, don’t give up the keys to Outpost Daria so soon. I think even I would be glad to see you back.

But if Outpost Daria in 2008 becomes the home of “the cutest baby pictures you ever saw,” well, don’t say you weren’t warned.

___
* Canadibrit has released a new ep of “The Look-Alike Series.” Man. Outpost Daria going under. New “TLAS” fic. “Set the wayback machine, Mr. Peabody, we’re going back to 1999 ...!”

Labels: Essays, Fandom, Sites

Today is April 14, 2007, and we mark the 10th anniversary of the initial airing of “The Lab Brat,” a Season One episode of Daria. It is probably one of the funnier episodes of the series, and has no greater goal than to be a funny episode. We don’t learn much that is new about the characters in Daria, but their strengths and weaknesses are played to their best effect in a very funny script.

Peggy Nicoll would go on to write several Daria episodes. Her previous television experience was writing an episode for Sweet Valley High and several episodes of Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.

She would write 10 episodes in all, co-write both Daria movies, and write The Daria Database, the companion book to Anne Bernstein’s The Daria Diaries. Unfortunately, aside from the “movie” Bratz: Rock Angelz, Ms. Nicoll seems not to have worked since then.

As it would also turn out, “The Lab Brat” would be the last new Daria episode until June 1997. Daria fans would have to wait almost two months to see the final part of Season One.

The story starts with the introduction of the science teacher at Lawndale High, Mrs. Barch, whose husband left the household after 22 years and left her with a lot of anger to express — most of it against the male students at Lawndale.

Mrs. Barch asks for the definition of the psychological concept of reinforcement. Daria goes on one of her funnier extended riffs with a hilarious example. It appears that Daria has become very comfortable now, when asked a question, to fill the empty space of those moments when the rest of the class won’t come up with an answer.

Something impresses Mrs. Barch — either Daria’s willingness to answer or the twisted nature of that answer. As a result, Barch pairs Daria with Kevin for a lab project to illustrate the nature of reinforcement. Brittany protests, as Kevin and Brittany have been lab partners for a long time. The singleton Brittany is therefore paired with Upchuck, who looks forward to having the attention of Lawndale’s chesty cheerleader.

At the local pizza place, Daria complains to Jane about having to work with Kevin. Jane thinks having Kevin as a partner is great — “Next best thing to working alone” — but Kevin likes mazes. Daria undoubtedly fears that Kevin will add unwanted input. But after Kevin asks for the project to be done at the Morgendorffers’, as his cable is out, Daria has an idea that should keep Kevin at arm’s length.

In the Morgendorffer household, Helen feigns interest in the school projects of Daria and Quinn. Daria quickly dopes out that Helen doesn’t care, but Helen’s interest is piqued when she finds out that Daria and Kevin have been paired. Helen hopes that Kevin will come to invite Daria into his circle of popularity — and now Quinn’s interest is piqued!

Just at that moment, Kevin arrives. Daria distracts Kevin — perhaps permanently — by showing Kevin that “The Pigskin Channel” is available. As Kevin settles down to watch his gridiron heroes — leaving Daria alone to get some work done — Quinn tries to attract Kevin by paying him lots of attention. But when Quinn tries to get Kevin to reciprocate — when she tries to manipulate him the same way she manipulates her other dates — Kevin is clueless.

Quinn: Kevin, if you want a soda or anything, there’s some
in the fridge. I know I’m kind of thirsty.
Kevin: Thanks, babe. Could you, like, put some ice in it?

Meanwhile, at Casa Ruttheimer, Brittany arrives in her finest “Spy vs. Spy” wear, lest anyone recognize her. Upchuck enjoys being partnered with Brittany — and then hands her woodworking tools, telling her that she’ll be doing her share of the work. If she doesn’t, he’ll tell all of LHS that they’re dating.

When Brittany scoffs at such blackmail, Upchuck pulls out bigger guns — a picture of Brittany and a bare-chested young man sitting in the back of a convertible. He’s Sam Stack, the quarterback of Oakwood, Lawndale’s rival school. (Brittany had broken up with Kevin the week that she went out with Sam.) In order to keep Upchuck from showing Kevin the photo, Brittany will have to be Upchuck’s “slave” and serve as his go-fer and maid-of-all-service (well, not all service).

Quinn keeps plying her charms, but Kevin has the Pigskin Channel and doesn’t even notice her. When Brittany comes by for a visit — drenched, as Upchuck had her cleaning his fish tank — Quinn tells Brittany that Kevin is deep at work with Daria and cuts the conversation short, closing the door on Brittany. Clearly, with Brittany around, Quinn has no chance of making Kevin a “K” to match her other Three Js.

Kevin visits Daria’s progress in the garage. Daria hates the interruption, Quinn comes by with a cake to tempt Kevin, and then Brittany arrives! Kevin claims that he’s been hard at work, but Brittany doesn’t buy it, and when Kevin can’t explain this project at which he’s been so hard at work to Brittany, Brittany comes to the conclusion that both Daria and Quinn are conspiring to take Kevin away from her!

At the pizza place, Brittany confronts Daria, telling her she’s ready to fight for Kevin. When Kevin is more interested in his science project than in Brittany — he looks forward to his Pigskin Channel viewings — Brittany is supremely frustrated. Her frustration increases as the Three Js come on to first Daria (because maybe Kevin knows something they don’t), then Quinn (because Quinn is Quinn) while Brittany can’t get their attention.

Brittany is convinced that she is competing against two girls for Kevin’s love. When Jodie jokingly suggests that Brittany’s little brother would have to wear a skirt for Brittany to compete, Brittany comes up with a devious solution to her plan.

Telling Quinn the lie that Kevin wanted Brittany to bring something to the garage, Brittany gains access to Daria’s maze-navigating mouse. Stealing the mouse, she puts it in the “care” of her evil little brother.

Daria tells Kevin that the two of them are in danger of failing the lab project, now that the mouse is gone. Daria has found evidence of what might have happened — a bear-shaped jar of honey that Brittany swapped for the mouse. (Upchuck will only eat honey from bear-shaped jars, as Brittany learned to her chagrin.) Brittany then arrives at the garage, and Daria comes to the obvious conclusion about the mouse’s fate.

She tells Brittany that without the mouse, Kevin and Daria will have to do a make-up project ... a very long make-up project that will be sure to keep Kevin at Daria’s house for a long time. Brittany is then forced to admit to Daria and Kevin that she was the one that stole the mouse. Daria offers Brittany a deal — the mouse in exchange for Kevin. (Each believes they got the better of the deal.)

Brittany returns the mouse, but it’s obvious that the mouse has been traumatized by Brittany’s brother. It refuses to run the maze, curling up in a fetal position. To Quinn’s chagrin, Brittany manages to get Kevin away from the Morgendorffers. As the Taylor residence now has the Pigskin Channel, Kevin is just as happy to be with Brittany as anyone else with cable.

In Mrs. Barch’s class, Charles and Brittany present their maze. However, Upchuck forgot to teach Brittany anything about the project, and when Barch’s queries to Brittany yield unsatisfactory answers, both Upchuck and Brittany get a failing grade.

Daria changes the focus of her project from the tale of a mouse taught to run a maze to what happens when a mouse receives fear as his only reinforcement. Drawing an example that parallels Barch’s hatred of all men, Daria gets an “A” — and Kevin gets a “D.”

To Kevin, the project has been a success! He tells Daria that he’s having a big party with a lot of cool people. As Daria’s face presents hopeful optimism, he asks Daria ... if Quinn can make it to the party.

Part of the reason this episode works so well is that Daria is at her creative and sarcastic best. It’s one of the first episodes of the Daria of “Daria Triumphant,” the Daria for which no obstacle remains an obstacle for long.

Daria is not only comfortable answering questions in class, but can quickly come with answers that serve her overall goals — usually the goal of leaving others uncomfortable. Daria manages to build her maze without (much) interference from Kevin, manages to figure out what happened to her missing mouse, and even with the project seemingly ruined, Daria saves it with a presentation that subtly appeals to Mrs. Barch’s misandry.

Daria is at the top of her game here, and even though she’s still an outcast at Lawndale, she’s much more in control of events than vice versa.

The episode also marks the first appearance of Janet Barch. It’s a pity that they matched up Barch with Mr. O’Neill, a character who never has been funny and probably never will be. Before the “I-hate-all-men-everywhere” shtick became tiresome, Barch is actually very funny in this episode, not so over the top as she is in future episodes.

(Question: Is this the only funny episode in which Barch has added to the humor instead of subtracted from it?)

Oddly enough, Jane is not just a second banana, but a third banana in this episode. Aside from some framing scenes, Jane is little used in “The Lab Brat,” basically to react to whatever Daria says and to occasionally add a provocative comment of her own.

As Jane was later developed into an intriguing character of her own — I think Jane could have supported a series — it is very difficult to see her in the role of Daria’s coat-holder. I don’t know if this is a failure, as Daria and Jane don’t need to be linked together in every episode — indeed, Jane isn’t even in Mrs. Barch’s class, and therefore couldn’t be Daria’s lab partner. It is very odd to see, however, given the closeness of Daria and Jane’s relationship as explored in later episodes.

But this episode wasn’t going to be used to explore the deepest hidden desires of characters, or the strength of relationships, or to make a point. Its only point was to be funny, and Peggy Nicoll hit the ball out of the park with her first attempt. The next episode — “Pinch Sitter” — would be a similar fan favorite ... but Daria fans would have to learn that patience was a virtue.

Random thoughts:

• It looks like Quinn has a talent we’ve forgotten to recognize — skill as a cook! Somehow, Quinn is able to whip up a steak for Kevin. The cake that Kevin was presented might have been store-bought, but there’s no way to fake a steak. And if Quinn can make a steak, is a cake really out of her range? (Then again, she might have learned from careful observation of her father.)

• My wife asked a question: Is Kevin onto Quinn? She suggested that Kevin’s cluelessness might be a psychological mechanism. He knows what Quinn’s asking of him, but he doesn’t want to turned into one of Quinn’s gift-bearing admirers, so he plays clueless. Then again, I think that’s giving Kevin too much credit.

• Where did this rumor come from that Kevin was dating Daria and Quinn? Brittany confronts Kevin with the news that the rumor exists during a scene near the lockers. It could have come from any number of sources, most likely from Brittany sharing a confidence with a friend, who then told ten friends, etc. Or Daria could have shared the rumor to set up getting rid of Brittany. Or Quinn could have told Sandi about Brittany’s wrong conclusion, and Sandi spread it all over the school. It just goes to show — rumor travels fast in any high school.

• Daria looks seriously hopeful that Kevin will invite her to his party at the end of the episode. Her eyes become wide, her head tilts, and a hint of anticipation comes into her voice, only for her to be cruelly shot down. I suspect that Daria would have turned down the invite, politely, but would have been secretly thrilled. At least it would have shown that Kevin would have appreciated the hard work Daria did. A pity that didn’t happen.

• Favorite quotes:

Helen: Daria, please tell me about the project.
Daria: It’s about how behavior is affected by positive or negative
reinforcement.
Helen: Sounds super.
Daria: Like ... say, you have a friend who responds to everything
you say with, “That’s great!” This insincere reply is the same
whether you saved a life or killed a bug, and thus becomes
“negative reinforcement,” causing you to withdraw from that
person or persons.
Helen: Wow. That’s fantastic!

Brittany: So, like, what have you been doing all night?
Kevin: Um ... working.
Brittany: Wow, this really looks complicated. Kevin ... you’re so smart. Explain it to me.
Kevin: Uh ... well, see, there’s this path. Wait ... hey. Oh,
there’s two paths. Cool!

Brittany: Ooh! Can you believe Daria’s trying to take Kevin
away from me?
Jodie: I can’t believe anyone would try to take Kevin away
from you.

Kevin: Babe!
Daria: This is all very touching. Brittany, a deal. The mouse
for Kevin.
Brittany: Deal.
(Both shake hands and think: “Sucker.”)
Kevin: Daria, I can still come over and watch the Pigskin
Channel, right?
(Both girls think: “Jerk!”)

Labels: Essays, Nicoll, The Lab Brat

Looking back on “This Year’s Model” — or even finding anything relevant to say about it, regarding the plot or its characters — is difficult because this episode leaves so little impact on the viewer. After I finished watching it again in honor of its 10th anniversary, I wondered if the running time was somehow shorter compared to the rest of the Season One episodes.

“This Year’s Model” was written by Laura Kightlinger and Glenn Eichler. Even though Kightlinger would move on to write six episodes of Will and Grace, she is known more for being a comedy performer than a writer. At the time of the episode, her only writing experience was sketch comedy writing for Saturday Night Live.

She had never written a beginning-to-end television script or a screenplay, and Eichler’s co-writing credit most likely exists for one of two reasons. Either she needed Eichler’s guidance in completing her first full script, or more likely, the script needed extensive revision, to the point that Eichler deserved a writing credit. This would be the only Daria episode that Kightlinger would write.

To recall the plot: The show begins with a pointless scene in Daria’s room where Daria and Jane watch a commercial for an encyclopedia — one whose articles are written by a supermodel. (This scene could have been abandoned, as the title of the episode alone makes the subject matter clear.)

Two visitors arrive at Mr. O’Neill’s class, led in by the principal, Ms. Li. The male is Claude, and the female is Romonica DeGregory, two representatives from an agency that seems to take various names throughout the episode, all variations on “Amazon Modeling Agency.”

Brittany is very happy, figuring they must be there because of the letter she sent to them. Claude and Romonica make it clear that they are searching for modeling talent, with the winner to receive a national contract.

Daria and Jane each make the point to Ms. Li that the aims of modeling aren’t exactly aligned with the aims of education. Daria states that modeling is entirely about being judged by one’s appearance, and that a model’s popularity depends on the whims of popular fashion.

Daria and Jane finally learn that Ms. Li is more motivated by financial renumeration — the swimming pool needs bullet-proof skylights — than any educational benefits from Amazon’s arrival.

At the cafeteria, Daria and Jane find that Jodie has skipped lunch and they accuse her of being caught up in the dream of becoming a model. Jodie complains that Daria is “against everything” and that the class is voluntary. Daria retorts that by Jodie’s argument, strippers should be allowed to come to recruit at the school as well, provided attendance at stripping lessons is also voluntary.

Both Claude and Romonica show up unexpectedly at Mrs. Bennett’s class. By now, Brittany is wearing a shoulder-to-knees trenchcoat, and when Claude and Romonica take notice of Brittany, they ask her to model for them.

Brittany is wearing an haute couture dress underneath the coat and walks for the two, who silently indicate to each other that Brittany doesn’t measure up, being too busty. However, Claude and Romonica effusively compliment Brittany (“Wonderful!” “Astonishing!”) and search the room for new talent.

They center on two potential targets. Jane holds off Claude’s and Romonica’s interest by drawing them on notebook paper as two vultures circling a potential meal. When Claude focuses on Daria’s “waif-like figure” and asks her to take off her glasses, she declines, stating that she needs them to identify scam artists.

Daria shares her concerns with Helen and Jake, who know Daria feels strongly about the matter. They know because Daria has violated her “unwritten rule” (see the essay on “The Invitation”) and upset the balance of power by the mere act of telling her parents. Quinn, however, enters the room with what she thinks is good news — she’s been invited to attend Claude’s and Romonica’s modeling class!

The phone rings. Romonica is on the phone to talk with Helen. She tells Helen that Quinn has that “special something” that most other girls don’t have, and emphasizes that the classes are free.

Quinn, still thinking that she isn’t going to the class after the poor initial reception to the idea from Helen, leaps in after Helen and Romonica stop talking. She claims that Helen has always said that Quinn can be whatever she wants to be, and clearly, this is something very big for Quinn.

Helen reluctantly gives in, if only for the one class. She then swings a deal with Daria to observe the class and monitor Quinn. (The deal: Helen cannot bring up redecorating Daria’s room — the padded room of the schizophrenic relative of the previous owners — for an entire year.) As it turns out, Daria had planned on attending anyway, as there is great “potential for the total humiliation of Quinn.”

As Daria and Jane sit in the school auditorium and watch Quinn on stage, Trent shows up. Daria and Jane ask why he’s there, and Trent states — not very convincingly — that as he plans on being a rock star, he needs to get used to being around models.

As Brittany bemoans her fate of having to sit with the “losers” in the auditorium, Quinn, Sandi, Stacy, Tiffany, and a large red-haired girl (chosen as “a decoy” by Claude and Romonica) strut their stuff.

Quinn is very good at interpreting the directions. However, Claude and Romonica create an exercise where the girls must rub the chests of “virile” young men in a romantic way. The Three Js are called to help, and Kevin is noticed in the auditorium and asked to help as well, immediately abandoning a sobbing Brittany. The boys take off their shirts and get to work, but Ms. Li shows up and the class comes to a crashing halt.

Quinn is convinced that she’ll win the contest, but Helen is not so sure. As the school is assembled in the auditorium to hear who will win the modeling contract, a group of men dressed in army fatigues and military wear interrupt the assembly. It is General Buck Conroy from Brutal Mercenary magazine, ready to tell the assembled the joys of being a killer for hire.

When Ms. Li protests their intrusion, Conroy shows Ms. Li not only the letter she supposedly sent him, but the accompanying fee. And then the press show up. (Ba-rump-bum.)

Ms. Li can provide little defense to the press — after all, if she allowed Amazon to recruit, then why wouldn’t she allow Brutal Mercenary? Claude and Romonica are banned from school grounds.

At home, Quinn believes that she would have won the contract if all this hadn’t happened. Daria then happily points out an article in the local paper where it is announced that Amazon has signed a Lawndale student to a national contract — Kevin Thompson.

As Daria, safely in her room, destroys her copy of Brutal Mercenary magazine — indicating that she was the force behind the arrival of General Conroy and his mercenaries — Kevin is being verbally abused by Claude and Romonica during an underwear shoot. Clearly, he’s not doing very well as a model.

Part of the problem with “This Year’s Model” is that Daria and Jane — the stars of the show — are shoved off the stage, moved from a proactive role to an observing role. At the beginning of the episode they are watching television, and they will remain in this passive role almost to the very end.

Daria at least remains true to her standoffish self. Daria doesn’t like the arrival of Claude and Romonica, and has probably judged them accurately as “scam artists,” but doesn’t go out of her way to lead a massive protest. As long as she’s not involved, she’s happy, and she only observes the modeling because there’s the faint chance that her hated sister Quinn might do something foolish.

But with Daria out of the way, the episode must be carried on the back of lesser — far lesser — characters. Claude and Romonica take the stage, and they are both the stereotypes of what people in the modeling industry were thought to be like in 1997.

Both are flamboyant, both are dressed in visually arresting (or assaulting) fashions, everything is tres chic to them, they are catty, they are dishonest, and they enjoy making grand spectacles of themselves. We can only be glad that America’s Next Top Model was not on the air until 2003, or we would have been given bad imitations of Tyra Banks and Janice Dickinson.

The problem is that neither of them is very funny, either separately or together. They are a bad Saturday Night Live sketch. Daria and Jane quickly fend off these two annoyances, but we are stuck with them for the length of the episode.

With Daria’s principle of non-involvement running at full power, other, lesser characters have to fill the spaces. For example, Quinn, who by this time was still not much more than Daria’s sisterly nemesis. And of course, Kevin and Brittany, of whom the less is said the better.

A general rule of Daria episodes is: Don’t bother watching episodes, like “A Tree Grows in Lawndale,” which try to develop stereotypical characters — they never work. “This Year’s Model” not only proves the rule, it doesn’t even do much with the characters it’s given, for comedic purposes or otherwise.

Furthermore, Helen is very angry with Jake and it’s the first time we truly experience Helen’s wrath in any episode. Helen is virtually screaming at Jake — “Do you hear anything that goes on here?!?” — and Jake frankly doesn’t know how to defend himself, wanting nothing more than to be left alone.

Helen’s irritation with Jake stops being funny after a while, and when it does, you begin speculating who’s to blame for the sorry state of communication in the Morgendorffer household ... Helen or Jake?

This episode is the first sign that this shtick, taken too far, can be troublesome. It’s a good thing that the Helen/Jake dynamic is further explored in later episodes. In “This Year’s Model,” however, it’s more verbal abuse than it is humor.

As a side note, Trent’s arrival at Lawndale High is a bit unsettling. Why is he there? The natural conclusion is that he’s there to look at the cute high school girls — although Quinn and her Fashion Club peers are freshmen, and Trent is in his early twenties.

Not that it’s a sin to look at pretty girls, but you wonder if Trent’s interest in Daria is due to the fact that he can’t pick up girls his own age. If Trent is to be the boy that Daria develops a crush on, wouldn’t someone as smart as Daria be asking herself some questions?

Even Trent seems embarrassed to be there. Maybe he read the script.

The ending is unsatisfying. Really, if Daria detests Quinn so much, it should be a win-win situation — either Quinn loses the competition and is crushed, or wins it and is out of Daria’s hair. But Daria somehow acts as the deus ex machina, finally bringing an end to Claude’s and Romonica’s reign of ... uh ... inconvenience.

Why does Daria have all this concern now? One could argue that she was really worried about Quinn falling under the influence of these two dimwits, but nothing in the episode conveys that.

It also leaves a bunch of unanswered questions, as Hermes Conrad might say ...

• Did Daria spend her own money? That fee looked like a check. It must be a money order, because where would Daria get an anonymous check?

• Did Daria need to steal official LHS stationery?

• Is copying Ms. Li’s name a crime?

• Didn’t General Conroy have any suspicions? Why would he show up unannounced without at least doing some basic reconnaissance? Did Daria call him up pretending to be Ms. Li? Did ...

Oh, forget it. None of these unanswered questions are worth asking, or answering. “This Year’s Model” was one of the first real bumps on the road, right next to “College Bored.”

It was just a episode with broadly sketched characters, none of whom can draw a laugh, while Daria sits in the background, somewhere, reading. Clearly, this episode needed more Daria. Thankfully, the next two episodes of Daria would be among the funniest.

Random thoughts:

• When I talked my essay over with my wife, she gave me a different perspective. As to whether or not Amazon was on the up and up, she said, “Of course Amazon is a scam!”

She compared Amazon to the Barbizon Modeling School. There are still Barbizon agencies at various places in the United States. Their old slogan was “Be a model, or just look like one!” One used to find their advertisements in Seventeen, Glamour, or Mademoiselle.

If you could somehow afford their classes, that was where they got you hooked. The classes were expensive, and then you could pay for a special class in how to apply makeup, and then pay for portfolio pictures, etc., etc.

However, Barbizon was not a modeling agency. They couldn’t place you on a runway, either in Milan, or for that matter, in Macon. Young deluded kids pay thousands of dollars and have nothing to show for it. This is why my wife concluded that Daria went out of her way, not only to reveal Ms. Li’s own “mercenary” behavior, but also to strike back at a place like Amazon/Barbizon.

My argument is that I doubt a lot of the young people watching in the late 1990s, or even in the 2000s on The N, would even know who or what Barbizon is. This is the problem when twenty- and thirty-somethings are trying to write a show for high school teens.

• Even though being a model was just one of many of Brittany’s most important dreams ever, at least she put enough thought in it to come up with a model name, “Blue.” Last Wednesday, the models of America’s Next Top Model were asked to come up with a new name for themselves as a challenge. (See: Twiggy.) Unfortunately, none of them picked “Blue.”

• A pattern is evident in Daria’s and Jane’s confrontations with authority. Daria will devastatingly point out the flaws in the opposition's argument, while Jane will bring up other related points that might paint a shocking picture. Daria likes unsettling authority, but Jane likes watching it squirm.

• When the Fashion Club is holding hands in this episode, waiting in anticipation of learning who will get the contract, Tiffany is missing. Did she fall short?

• Stacy finally gets a name, as Romonica calls her by name in the auditorium. Sandi was first named as a character in the previous episode, “Malled.” Tiffany still doesn’t have a name, but will have one by the end of the first season.

• The only good lines of the episode:

Quinn: You don’t get it. I’m writing a poem about what a great model I’d be. I’m going to recite it for Claude and Romonica. (clears throat) “A model’s what I’d like to be / Looking good comes naturally / Da da da da, da da, me.”

(Jane refers to Brittany’s characterization of the observers as losers, and Kevin is called to the auditorium floor by Claude and Romonica, abandoning a distraught Brittany)
Jane: Don’t be sad. He’s with the winners now.

Labels: Eichler, Essays, Kightlinger, This Year's Model