Everybody Tuck Your Pants Into Your Socks
If I had to choose a favorite episode of The Simpsons, ever, I would have to choose the one that came on last night at 10pm. This is not a spur-of-the-moment call; I made up my mind on this a while back, and I have witnesses. It's titled "Homer's Enemy," a.k. by my circle of friends a. "the Grimey episode." It really highlights some of the lovable aspects of Homer by contrasting him with a very un-Homer-like character, Frank Grimes (or Grimey, as he likes to be called). The episode is also a fable whose moral is, I think, particularly poignant for this universe and those who dwell within it.
The fable is not original; it's essentially the same story as Amadeus, the 1984 movie directed by Milos Foreman. Both tales feature a character who is spoiled rotten, who gets everything handed to him, who leads a life that is at best carefree and at worst selfish and immoral - and in these stories, this character is the hero. The villain is a hard-working do-gooder who plays by the rules and is rewarded with a mediocre lot in life (something that, for those of us who have one, can feel like a fate worse than death).
In the Grimey episode, the hero is Homer. The writers of The Simpsons took a slightly different angle on how well-off the Simpson family is for this episode; they are usually portrayed as lower-middle class, a family of five supported by a single blue-collar wage earner. They are a few rungs lower, economically and socially, than their neighbors, the Flanderses, who attend church religiously and have a rumpus room for a basement, replete with pool table and draught beer. For this episode, the creators, without directly contradicting anything that came before (to my knowledge), highlight what the Simpsons have going for them: two cars in the garage, a daughter with an IQ of 156, a colorful, cozy house, and Homer, whose job, it is stressed, is the plant safety inspector. Not exactly grunt work. Add to this the subplot, in which Bart purchases, for $1 at an auction, a derelict factory downtown - never mind it is deserted except for rats; Bart is introduced to Grimes as Homer's son, who owns a factory downtown. This, during a visit to Homer's home, which Homer has ill-advisedly arranged under the notion that Grimey's budding hatred of Homer will subside when he sees what a perfect person Homer is. Lobster boiling in the background, Grimey's temper boils over. He chastises Homer for being "what's wrong with America," and denounces him as a fraud. Granted, he is addressing the man who has, in the past few days, stolen Grimey's special diatetic lunch ("the bag was clearly marked"); put Grimey's already-tenuous new position at the plant in jeopardy by reporting to Mr. Burns that the acid-burned hole in the wall was indeed Grimey's doing, neglecting to mention that Grimey slapped the acid beaker out of Homer's hand as he was about to mistake it for a cup of coffee; and worst, nicknamed Grimes Grimey, which he most certainly does not like to be called.
In Amadeus, the hero is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the genius composer. Mozart struggles to make a living, but it doesn't appear to bother him. He marries a charming girl and attracts people in droves to his brilliant operas. He is a precocious young composer, and quickly draws the ire of the story's villain, Salieri. Salieri is a successful composer in the Austrian king's court, but one doomed to be forgotten. Early in the movie, Salieri is an old man in an asylum, hopelessly trying to get a young priest to remember any of his recently-popular compositions. The priest is oblivious until Salieri plays Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, which he, of course, didn't write.
Grimey is a man who has slaved away his entire life for the chance to work where Homer got a job by showing up the day the plant opened. Salieri prays that God will allow him to become His composer; he even vows chastity. Amadeus has an affair with the soprano whom Salieri chastely adores, and writes The Magic Flute about it.
Each villain plots his nemesis's downfall. Salieri anonymously funds the ailing Mozart's composition of the Requiem mass, using his standing in the Austrian music scene to assure that it is the only work Mozart is able to find, and demanding he continue at such a pace as to drive him to a pauper's grave. It is the immortal beauty of Mozart's music, including this Requiem, that gives him the final victory over the mediocre, and of course also many centuries-dead, Salieri. Grimey tricks Homer into entering a Build Your Own Power Plant contest by removing the parts of an announcement that indicate the contest is for children. Although the overachieving Martin Prince's really-working model power plant is far superior to Homer's in design, Homer's addition of fins and a racing stripe to the current power plant wins Mr. Burns's heart, and Homer takes first prize. Grimey hasn't humiliated Homer by having him lose to a child in front of his coworkers; Homer, as Lenny puts it, "beat their brains out," and is adored even more.
So the moral of the stories is: karma is often impossibly absent from our lives. Some people work hard and behave themselves, only to die of stomach cancer at 27. Some people seem to be complete wastes of time but make seven-figure salaries and die, happy in their beds, with three-figure ages. I believe that things tend to go and come around, and that some keys to living a happy life are to be kind, to forgive, and to eat right, but one must admit that there are no sure things in life. Although these are fictional stories, we must admit we know of people whose just deserts are nowhere to be found.
After Texas Tech's football team defeated Oklahoma's last season, in a mild upset, a Tech player said that his team managed to beat OU because, in part, "God looks after His own." Were I an Oklahoma player I would certainly have taken exception to that remark. But as an obscure blogger, I am simply relieved that Tech won! Under the player's reasoning, his losing would have meant he wasn't one of God's own. Of course, the player probably didn't mean to say that God favored Tech over OU. But I have to wonder, of those athletes who thank God for delivering them a victory, do they curse God after a defeat? Of course not: I'm sure they see the experience as God teaching them humility or something like that. But my point, and the point of the Grimey episode and Amadeus, is that everyday experience is poor evidence that our lives' events are rewards for righteousness and punishments for sin. God may exist, but our experience shows he doesn't care which team kicks the winning field goal. The bad guys win too often. Yes, you can explain it in terms of God working in mysterious ways, but it is far simpler to explain it in terms of God not intervening at all. Perhaps all will be settled in the hereafter, but Grimey and Salieri (and OU) will just have to wait.
But maybe it's a bit more complicated than that. Why are the righteous portrayed, convincingly, as villains, after all? Anybody who has tried to write a piece of music half as good as Mozart's 25th symphony has to sympathize with Salieri, just as anybody who has been passed up for promotion by a moron coworker must feel for Grimey. And yet, is a weird kind of justice still served? Does God punish people for being whining assholes? Do these villains do more than whine: do they obsess over some goal they've taken it upon themselves to view as the end-all be-all of existence? Are they too pathetic to understand that life will not be a magical paradise if this goal is reached? Do they really think life is constant ecstasy for an overweight oaf and a penniless runt?
The fable is not original; it's essentially the same story as Amadeus, the 1984 movie directed by Milos Foreman. Both tales feature a character who is spoiled rotten, who gets everything handed to him, who leads a life that is at best carefree and at worst selfish and immoral - and in these stories, this character is the hero. The villain is a hard-working do-gooder who plays by the rules and is rewarded with a mediocre lot in life (something that, for those of us who have one, can feel like a fate worse than death).
In the Grimey episode, the hero is Homer. The writers of The Simpsons took a slightly different angle on how well-off the Simpson family is for this episode; they are usually portrayed as lower-middle class, a family of five supported by a single blue-collar wage earner. They are a few rungs lower, economically and socially, than their neighbors, the Flanderses, who attend church religiously and have a rumpus room for a basement, replete with pool table and draught beer. For this episode, the creators, without directly contradicting anything that came before (to my knowledge), highlight what the Simpsons have going for them: two cars in the garage, a daughter with an IQ of 156, a colorful, cozy house, and Homer, whose job, it is stressed, is the plant safety inspector. Not exactly grunt work. Add to this the subplot, in which Bart purchases, for $1 at an auction, a derelict factory downtown - never mind it is deserted except for rats; Bart is introduced to Grimes as Homer's son, who owns a factory downtown. This, during a visit to Homer's home, which Homer has ill-advisedly arranged under the notion that Grimey's budding hatred of Homer will subside when he sees what a perfect person Homer is. Lobster boiling in the background, Grimey's temper boils over. He chastises Homer for being "what's wrong with America," and denounces him as a fraud. Granted, he is addressing the man who has, in the past few days, stolen Grimey's special diatetic lunch ("the bag was clearly marked"); put Grimey's already-tenuous new position at the plant in jeopardy by reporting to Mr. Burns that the acid-burned hole in the wall was indeed Grimey's doing, neglecting to mention that Grimey slapped the acid beaker out of Homer's hand as he was about to mistake it for a cup of coffee; and worst, nicknamed Grimes Grimey, which he most certainly does not like to be called.
In Amadeus, the hero is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the genius composer. Mozart struggles to make a living, but it doesn't appear to bother him. He marries a charming girl and attracts people in droves to his brilliant operas. He is a precocious young composer, and quickly draws the ire of the story's villain, Salieri. Salieri is a successful composer in the Austrian king's court, but one doomed to be forgotten. Early in the movie, Salieri is an old man in an asylum, hopelessly trying to get a young priest to remember any of his recently-popular compositions. The priest is oblivious until Salieri plays Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, which he, of course, didn't write.
Grimey is a man who has slaved away his entire life for the chance to work where Homer got a job by showing up the day the plant opened. Salieri prays that God will allow him to become His composer; he even vows chastity. Amadeus has an affair with the soprano whom Salieri chastely adores, and writes The Magic Flute about it.
Each villain plots his nemesis's downfall. Salieri anonymously funds the ailing Mozart's composition of the Requiem mass, using his standing in the Austrian music scene to assure that it is the only work Mozart is able to find, and demanding he continue at such a pace as to drive him to a pauper's grave. It is the immortal beauty of Mozart's music, including this Requiem, that gives him the final victory over the mediocre, and of course also many centuries-dead, Salieri. Grimey tricks Homer into entering a Build Your Own Power Plant contest by removing the parts of an announcement that indicate the contest is for children. Although the overachieving Martin Prince's really-working model power plant is far superior to Homer's in design, Homer's addition of fins and a racing stripe to the current power plant wins Mr. Burns's heart, and Homer takes first prize. Grimey hasn't humiliated Homer by having him lose to a child in front of his coworkers; Homer, as Lenny puts it, "beat their brains out," and is adored even more.
So the moral of the stories is: karma is often impossibly absent from our lives. Some people work hard and behave themselves, only to die of stomach cancer at 27. Some people seem to be complete wastes of time but make seven-figure salaries and die, happy in their beds, with three-figure ages. I believe that things tend to go and come around, and that some keys to living a happy life are to be kind, to forgive, and to eat right, but one must admit that there are no sure things in life. Although these are fictional stories, we must admit we know of people whose just deserts are nowhere to be found.
After Texas Tech's football team defeated Oklahoma's last season, in a mild upset, a Tech player said that his team managed to beat OU because, in part, "God looks after His own." Were I an Oklahoma player I would certainly have taken exception to that remark. But as an obscure blogger, I am simply relieved that Tech won! Under the player's reasoning, his losing would have meant he wasn't one of God's own. Of course, the player probably didn't mean to say that God favored Tech over OU. But I have to wonder, of those athletes who thank God for delivering them a victory, do they curse God after a defeat? Of course not: I'm sure they see the experience as God teaching them humility or something like that. But my point, and the point of the Grimey episode and Amadeus, is that everyday experience is poor evidence that our lives' events are rewards for righteousness and punishments for sin. God may exist, but our experience shows he doesn't care which team kicks the winning field goal. The bad guys win too often. Yes, you can explain it in terms of God working in mysterious ways, but it is far simpler to explain it in terms of God not intervening at all. Perhaps all will be settled in the hereafter, but Grimey and Salieri (and OU) will just have to wait.
But maybe it's a bit more complicated than that. Why are the righteous portrayed, convincingly, as villains, after all? Anybody who has tried to write a piece of music half as good as Mozart's 25th symphony has to sympathize with Salieri, just as anybody who has been passed up for promotion by a moron coworker must feel for Grimey. And yet, is a weird kind of justice still served? Does God punish people for being whining assholes? Do these villains do more than whine: do they obsess over some goal they've taken it upon themselves to view as the end-all be-all of existence? Are they too pathetic to understand that life will not be a magical paradise if this goal is reached? Do they really think life is constant ecstasy for an overweight oaf and a penniless runt?
posted by john at
3:04 PM
1 Comments:
"[SNORE] Marge, change the channel!" ... In all seriousness, I appreciate your post here. Homer's Enemy is my favorite Simpsons episode as well. One thing that stands in the way of my believing is the claim by many religious folks that God intervenes and that x must have happened "for a reason".
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