Thoughts on Variations on Relations:

I love me some mythology. Those of you who read along with my increasingly-insane ramblings on Lost already know this about me. When it comes to matters mythological/theological/philosophical I can get a little long-winded, and a lot crazy.  But to me, that’s a large part of the fun. Why write about television shows unless you’re going to bring your interests with you when you do so? A lot of reviews/revisitings consist of a dutiful recitation of the plot (“So then this happened, and it was cool, and then this happened, and it was most non-triumphant…”) and little else. If you’re spending time reading my ramblings (1) thank you, and (2) you want/deserve something more substantive than that.

So let’s get substantive, sort of.

The episode begins by dropping us back into Owl Cave, where Cooper, Truman, Andy and Hawk have returned after having previously discovered some kind of secret penis lever. They get a good look at the rather elaborate mural on the wall, and so do we. And what we see is, frankly, pretty baffling. But not totally baffling. Let’s take a look at the mural and see what we can see:

Take note of the circle of trees featured on the left hand side of the mural. Notice any similarities to another “circle” portrayed earlier in the show?

As I noted, waaaaaaay back in the column for Season 1, episode 2, the circle of candles that surrounds this mound (glimpsed in Cooper’s first vision, just after Bob and Mike speak) is a perfect mirror of the circle of trees that we see here in the mural. Twelve candles, twelve trees. The tree circle also makes a second appearance during this episode, popping up on Windom Earle’s ambiguous computer/satellite device. Not only does this mirror image reinforce the show’s earlier interest in/evocation of ritual, it also recalls the series’ near-obsession with circles and with circular imagery. Cooper’s ring, the “perfect circle” of Mike and Bob’s partnership, the circle of candles around a circular mound, the circle of trees, the circle of men who gather on the night that Bob’s host is finally discovered…

In addition to the circle, I also make out a conspicuous fire symbol, connecting to the poem recited by Bob and Mike (“Fire, walk with me/Fire walk with me”), as well as two humanoid figures; one tall, one small. Alien and human being? Adult and child? Shaman and tribesman? We leave Cooper & Co. directly after this imagery, but Peaks’ mythology continues to unravel for us immediately, as Windom Earle speechifies at length on the two Lodges that have slowly come to the forefront of the show’s story:

Earle: “Once upon a time, there was a place of great goodness called the White Lodge. Fawns gamboled there amidst happy laughing spirits. The sounds of innocence and laughter filled the air. When it rained it rained sweet nectar that paralyzed the heart with the desire to live one’s life in truth and beauty. Generally speaking, a ghastly place reeking of virtue’s sour smell, engorged with the whispered prayers of kneeling mothers, mewling newborns, and fools young and old compelled to do good without reason. But, I am pleased to note, our story does not end in this place of saccharine excess. For there is another place, its opposite, of almost unimaginable power, chock full of dark forces and vicious secrets. No prayers dare penetrate this frightful maw. Spirits there care not for good deeds and priestly invocations. They are as like to rip the muscle from our bones as greet you with a happy g’day. And, if harnessed, these spirits, this hidden land of unmuffled screams and broken hearts, will offer up a power so vast that its bearer might reorder the earth itself to his liking. This place I speak of is known as the Black Lodge. And I intend to find it.”

That’s a great speech. Sure, it’s a little purple, and sure, it’s pretty expository, but it’s (in this writer’s humble opinion) really good, really exciting exposition. Earle’s description of the White Lodge paints it as something out of a fairy tale, right down to the de rigueur opening words “Once upon a time.” Earle’s words also paint the White Lodge as something lost and gone from us, and the Black Lodge as something very much present and vital: there was a place of great goodness, there is another place. Whether or not this choice of words was intentional on the part of the writers, whether or not the White Lodge exists in the present, or in the past alone, the effect of Earle’s speech is to create the image of the White Lodge as a kind of lost Camelot – a place of harmony and joy and fraternity, a place not unlike Cooper’s idealized view of the town of Twin Peaks – a “brief, shining moment” that is now legend. In contrast, the Black Lodge exists (in Earle’s speech at any rate) in the here and now. And through this speech we learn that it is a “real” place, a physical location that can be found. Earle’s goals – previously assumed to revolve around vengeance against Cooper – are revealed as far more ambitious in scope. Earle wants to locate the Black Lodge and somehow harness its power. I’m a sucker for stories where mad men seek out items/places of ancient power/evil, and so Peaks’ sudden turn toward Indiana Jones territory presses all the right buttons for me as a viewer.

By the way: that’s Ted Raimi (brother of director Sam Raimi) playing the role of the stoner/metalhead who has followed Windom Earle to his creepy cabin on the promise of some brewskis. Raimi’s pretty terrible in the role – a caricature of a caricature – but his fate at the end of this episode is memorable. So, y’know, points for that.

Pete: “It’s a puzzle box.”

So it turns out that the creepy black box given to Catherine by Thomas Eckhardt’s creepy black lingerie-wearing sexual assassin is a puzzle box – one that’s coded via a series of zodiac symbols and moon phases. WHY is it coded this way? Who the heck knows. But I’ve got a theory (one that I’m sure is a common one), and since the show’s ending shortly I’ll float part of it out here now:

The mystical/extraterrestrial gumbo that is Twin Peaks’ mythology seems based, at least in part, on planets and on planetary alignments. Thus the zodiac and the phases of the moon. It’s also based, to some extent, on alchemy, which counts seven “planetary metals” among its elements, represented by zodiac symbology. Note that one of these symbols – the symbol for Jupiter – pops up again in this episode.

I’ll have (much) more to say on this point just a little further down the line.

Bobby continues to confuse the everlovin’ heck outta me. First he’s Shelly’s bold protector/provider/co-conspirator in insurance fraud. Then he’s taking a shot at being upwardly-mobile, and drops Shelly like a bad habit. Then he’s back at her door seemingly that night, professing devotion and fending off FrankenLeo. Then he’s off again, flirting with Audrey, and re-dropping Shelly. Now he’s once again scheming with her to get the money from the Miss Twin Peaks competition and kissing her, and basically WTF? Shelly, to her credit, seems like she’s pretty much over Bobby and his schemes. Given the utterly-bizarre yet strangely-affecting chemistry between her and Gordon Cole, I’m glad to see that.

Just as Twin Peaks seems to be building a good head of steam and returning to the elements that made it compelling television, Lana Milford pops back up again. I have zero interest in this character, or in her weird magnetic power over what seems like every man ever. I have no idea why I should care about her, or her petulant need to be crowned Miss Twin Peaks. I would very much like Lana Milford to wander off and ne’er darken our doorsteps again.

….please?

Luckily, Lana Milford’s a speed bump. After that brief, pointless interlude we return to the larger story that’s unfolding, as Cooper sets a date with Annie and discovers that Shelly has received an anonymous Shelley poem. This information clearly disturbs him, and we quickly learn that Cooper had sent that same poem to Caroline before she died. Cooper, starting to rediscover the fact that he’s a damn good law man, recognizes the handwriting and identifies it as Leo Johnson’s. To quote Corky St. Clair (badly) quoting Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: “I think that the elements, as Dr. Watson said to Sherlock, are coming together, sir.”

Major Briggs: “Deputy Brennan? As I remember, the line you are drawing should proceed downward, not across.”

Major Briggs continues to suggest his importance to the show’s mythological/mystical elements as he corrects Andy’s reconstruction of the Owl Cave mural, indicating that the Major has seen the mural before – indeed, he comments that he has dreamed it, or seen it, but cannot recall where. I presume that this is connected to his lost memories of abduction, and that he may have borne witness to the mural during that time period. And Cooper, in turn, continues to regain his zen detective abilities with gratifying speed, noting that “Logic dictates these investigations remain separate entities. But recent developments suggest otherwise.” We are veering away from the arguably humdrum, pedestrian investigations of the past few episodes and back into the realm of intuition and magic. And I, for one, could not be happier. Briggs agrees to access the classified Blue Book files on behalf of Cooper and his investigation, but only after considering “certain moral judgments.” It’s assertions like this one that make Briggs my second favorite character on the show. In addition to being a sucker for mad men hunting down forbidden power/secrets, I’m also a sucker for untarnished nobility. Characters like Dale Cooper and Major Briggs represent ideals that I, personally, find both admirable and inspirational. They are unabashed champions of decency and honor, and those qualities need champions. Evil is everywhere in Twin Peaks – the show would not be the (largely) compelling, long-lasting curiosity that it remains to this day were it not for the show’s unblinking focus on and exploration of Evil and corruption. Cooper and Briggs sharpen the sting of the Evil in Twin Peaks by presenting us with Evil’s polar opposite – unalloyed Good. Without their presence and conviction, the powerful portrayal of Evil that we’ve witnessed would not, I don’t think, be nearly as powerful.

And as for what’s up with the hooded figure that appears in this episode, recalling the shadowed figure that abducted Briggs? No idea. Note that the Owl Cave map is featured in his silhouette, and that this becomes a field of stars as the camera draws closer to him/her/it, again connecting the “mystic” and the cosmic. Also note that the stylized 4 featured on the map is the alchemical symbol for tin, the planetary metal dominated by Jupiter. I’ve brought Jupiter up before:

“Jupiter represents essentially the realization in a human being that alone he is normally unable to meet the harsh challenges of life on an earth teeming with potential enemies and dangers, but that by cooperating with his fellow men he can handle successfully the problems of existence. ‘In union there is strength,’ is Jupiter’s motto; and union here has a very extensive meaning. From union an organized society comes forth; from union also, at a more psychological level, is born the religious sense, and all forms of culture and art, all social institutions — and first of all, language and the various kinds of symbols and myths on which religion, culture and political states were founded.” – Dan Rudhyar, The Planets and Their Symbols

I brought it up again in talking about the Diary of Laura Palmer:

That said, there are interesting/spooky sections to the text, and I think it’s interesting to note here that Laura’s cat was named Jupiter – a detail that may remind you of the quote I posted in last week’s column about that planet.

I’ll go into Jupiter’s potential symbolic significance soon.

Ben: “Sometimes the urge to do bad is nearly overpowering.”

I continue to enjoy Ben Horne’s exploration of what it means to be “good,” and his seeming self-awareness in the process of trying to redeem himself. Watching as he deals with Dick Tremayne and extends generosity to a sycophant is kinda inspiring in its own way. Also, it’s funny.

Earle: “Think of all the hapless sinners, wondering where their soul’s destination lies? Think of the prayers and the doubt, the gut-sucking fear that visits late at night. And for what? To gain the answer to a simple question: ‘Where will my spirit wake? What life am I given after my life?’ This grave question has plagued man’s sorry conscience for eons. And you, lucky boy, have the answer… now.”

I may not think much of Ted Raimi’s stoner/meathead, but I think the world of Earle’s speech here, and the merciless way in which he kills Raimi with a well-placed arrow. Earle’s words strike primal paydirt, and serve as a kind of commentary on the show’s larger preoccupations and (sadly truncated) future ambitions. Had Twin Peaks continued, I think that this speech would have provided a handy road map for where the show was ultimately headed – an exploration of metaphysical proportions.

Catherine: “I think early in her life she must have learned the lesson that she could survive by being what other people wanted to see. Showing them that. It was probably something she had no choice about. And I think that eventually became the largest truth in her life. In time even she no longer knew who she truly was. She, I don’t know quite how to say this … she lost her … center. What was left of her private self she may never have shown anyone.”

Now, see, this just plain aggravates me. Catherine’s referring to Josie here, and everything she’s said about Josie is genuinely interesting to me. So why didn’t the show choose to dramatize any of this? Or were Josie’s confusing/contradictory actions on the show meant to dramatize this kind of identity crisis? If so, I consider it a spectacular failure.

Annie: “I want to come back to the world. I was so frightened for so long. Of everything. Of life. I thought I’d be safe there. Everybody here thought I was nuts. And when I think about it, it was such a weird nineteenth century thing to do. To think I could remove myself, as if that could stop the noise in my head, when the problem was me. It was always in me.”

And that, to put it plainly, might just be one of the central, defining thematic through lines of Twin Peaks: The festering darkness in the human heart. While I take some issue with the speed of Cooper and Annie’s courtship, I have to say that I’m enjoying it. McLachlan does starry-eyed very well, and while Graham’s performance is workmanlike at best, she’s not as flat and as affectless as she’s seemed in other roles. Sure, this relationship in no way captures the natural chemistry of the Cooper/Audrey flirtation, but there’s an essential sweetness at the core here that’s difficult not to like.

Gordon Cole: “Poor kid acts like he never saw a kiss before. WATCH CLOSELY, SON. IT GOES LIKE THIS.”

I have to say: I thought watching David Lynch kiss Madchen Amick would be a lot more viscerally disturbing than it actually was. In actuality it was pretty darn sweet. The fact that Bobby stands by and watches in disbelief as Cole and Shelly share a tender moment is icing on the cake. I am now hoping for a full-on Cole/Shelly romantic subplot that I know I will never get to see. Damn you, ABC!

On another note: I’ll come right out and say it: I love Ian Buchanan. Why isn’t this guy a supporting actor in a ton of comedies? He’s got killer delivery and sly timing and despite emerging during the worst section of this show he’s remained consistently entertaining to me. Yes, Dick Tremayne’s wine tasting adds nothing whatsoever to the show in terms of importance or dramatic heft, but unlike, say, Lana Milford, Tremayne is actually funny. I see that Buchanan was a cast member on “It’s Garry Shandling’s Show” and I’m not surprised, just disappointed that we haven’t seen him pop up more frequently as a funnyman.

Cooper: “The Hindus say love is the ladder to heaven.”

Cooper and John Justice Wheeler share a brief conversation on love and suffering, and it’s odd to see the two men – one Audrey’s G-man crush, the other her entrepreneurial paramour – discussing their respective heart-flutterings with each other, unaware of their respective histories. Zane hasn’t had a lot of interesting stuff to do on the show thus far, so it’s no big disappointment to learn that he’ll apparently be leaving shortly thanks to a mysterious missive from Brazil. As for Cooper’s line, it’s got a weight to it that makes me want to connect it to the show’s larger themes/mythology. I think I’ll have the opportunity to do that next week.

Truman: “We thought at first it might be a bomb. We don’t exactly have a bomb squad. It’s weird.”

Yes it is, Harry. This episode comes to a close as Cooper, Truman, Andy, Hawk and the rest of the Twin Peaks Sherriff’s Department discover Windom Earle’s newest victim. Ted Raimi, dead-by-arrow, has been left at the town’s gazebo encased in an enormous paper mache Chess pawn. Hanging from the surface is a sign which reads “Next time it will be someone you know.” Do we need the giant chess piece for this to be effective/spooky? No we do not. It’s pretty ridiculous, frankly. But I find myself not caring too much, because Twin Peaks has started to wake up, and the ride’s getting fun again.

Only 3 episodes left! Join me next Friday for the final two regular episodes, The Path To The Black Lodge and Miss Twin Peaks, and in two weeks for the series finale, Beyond Life And Death (you don’t want to miss that one). I’ll watch Fire Walk With Me, the Twin Peaks prequel film, the week after that, and then it’ll be time to cast your votes again. What will we watch next? If you’re curious, the list of candidates is here. Have a show you’d like to add? Let me know in the comments!

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On The Wings Of Love & Variations On Relations (Twin Peaks S2, eps. 18 & 19)

Cooper: “Harry, I have no idea where this will lead us. But I have a definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange.”

After several episodes of relative tedium Twin Peaks suddenly rallied this week, turning out two enjoyably idiosyncratic installments that advance the show’s mythology, play on the quirks of the characters in a more organic, more satisfying manner than has been typical of late, and deliver both genuine laughs and genuine intrigue. These episodes reminded me of how much fun this show can be when it’s pitched at just the right ultrasonic oddball frequency. There’s still little of the creeping dread and Zen weirdness that Lynch’s directorial hand lent to the proceedings but this still feels more like than the other post-Leland installments. On The Wings Of Love sees a return to Cooper in conspicuous FBI gear, tape recorded missives to Diane (a ritual that ceased some time ago, and one that Cooper’s character practically requires – his natural self-reflection and cockeyed observations finding a perfect outlet/signifier in his tapes), Gordon Cole’s return to town, and a reflowering of Cooper’s bizarro confidence and zen detective determination. There are still stretches that feel labored/unnecessary/dull, but to be honest, that’s always been the case on this show. The first season’s Mill plot was largely banal as far as I’m concerned. As Twin Peaks approaches it’s enforced ending its returning to its roots, getting back to the good stuff just in time for the Big Finale (and oh, that finale…I cannot wait to write about it/talk about it with all of you).

Thoughts on On The Wings Of Love:

So apparently Eckhardt’s female assistant got half-naked and crawled into bed with Truman at the end of the last episode so that she could (A) apply an unidentified, but presumably hallucinogenic, substance to both of their lips so that (B) she would be mistaken for the now-entombed-in-furniture Josie Packard so that (C) she could suggestively caress and get all sexy/ rapey on Truman before (D) suddenly attempting to garrote him. For those of you not already familiar with the term: to “garrote” someone is to strangle ‘em real good with rope/wire.

Now, just WHY this woman would feel the need/desire to drug both Truman AND herself (!…?), then engage in some short, kinky foreplay prior to her attempt to murderize him is completely and utterly beyond me. Perhaps the whole “putting a pillow over someone’s face” thing is, like, totally played out in Assassin-Fashion circles (can you say “Assassin Fashion circles” three times fast? I sure can’t). Regardless, Truman showcases the absolute lack of potential misogyny on this show by proceeding to PUNCH THIS WOMAN IN THE FACE until she slumps back, unconscious on the couch wearing nothing but her absolutely-appropriate-for-close-quarters-combat lingerie.

John Justice Wheeler and Audrey Horne’s subsequent conversation about how “If you bring a hammer, you better bring nails” seems like a ninth-grader’s idea of witty sensual banter.

Cooper: “‘Project Blue Book.’ How could he have been working on that?”

Gordon Cole returns to Twin Peaks in person for the first time since the David Lynch-directed Lonely Souls, and it’s as if Lynch’s reappearance jumpstarts the show again. The episode starts out in the same bewilderingly lackadaisical manner as the past few episodes, but then Cole shows up and the tumblers start clicking into place: Coop gets his gun and badge back. Cherry pie is ecstatically-enthused over. Diane regains her invisible place in the audio firmament. Coop starts making cheery, daft pronouncements. The Sherriff’s Department engages in deliberative silences. Twin Peaks has begun at last to feel a bit more like Twin Peaks. That essential “feeling” combined with the expanding Black Lodge/Blue Book/Owl Cave mythology creates a fun, frothy atmosphere and a renewed sense that all of this is actually going somewhere. Learning that Windom Earle was somehow involved in Project Blue Book – the same top secret project that Major Briggs has worked on – cinches the plot threads tighter together, draws things a little more neatly into some kind of focus for us. If Earle worked on the same project as the Major, assumedly he was privy to some of the same secrets. And that means that Earle may be aware of the existence of the White Lodge, and perhaps the importance of Cooper in whatever greater-than-Chess game is being played out with human lives and souls amidst the pines in Twin Peaks. That ponderous pontification is verified in the next episode. Which is cool.

Also fun: Earle’s method of bugging the Sherriff’s Department via Bonsai tree, giving Lynch-as-Cole a perfectly good excuse to shout “BANZAI! BAAAAANZAAAAI!” Cole’s pitch-perfect, sincere declaration that “BREAKFAST IS A GOOD IDEA!” Heck, pretty much anything to do with in-person Lynch-as-Cole is fun.

Is it possible that Ben Horne is Donna Hayward’s father? That seems to be the direction the show is tacking toward. It’s obvious from this episode’s events that Horne and Donna’s mother had a romantic past, and while this wouldn’t ordinarily be the sort of plot line to draw my interest, Richard Beymer’s work as Horne is particularly strong lately. It’s very possible that by the end of the series we’ll learn that this new attitude toward life is a scam of some kind, but for the time being I’m taking Horne at his word. Watching him struggle with “goodness” is interesting, and Beymer plays that struggle well. Adding to my interest is the way in which Doc Hayward reacts to Donna’s growing suspicion; it’s clear that he’s helping to harbor this particular secret, but it’s not at all clear why. Where are they going with this? Will we find out before the show ends?

There are some lines of dialogue I admire simply because they’re well-crafted/witty. “A steak so rare you could sell it at Tiffany’s” is one of those lines.

Cole: “EXCUSE ME, WHILE I TRY MY HAND AT A LITTLE COUNTER ESPERANTO.”

Gordon Cole sets eyes on Shelly Johnson at the Double R Diner and its love at first sight. In what’s definitely, for me, the most unexpected development of these episodes Cole romances Shelly with curiously adorable determination. It seems that Shelly’s voice is somehow pitched so that Cole can hear her with perfect clarity, and Lynch-as-Cole sells the wonder of that discovery with boyish sincerity. The entirety of the Double R Diner scene – Cole and Shelly’s conversation, Cooper and Truman’s discussion about the bird outside the window, even the banter between Annie, Cooper and Truman (“What’s good for a hangover,” Truman asks. “Teetotalling and prayer,” Annie responds.) – is good stuff. Twin Peaks gets a little more of its soul back here, and its pretty great to see the show starting to rouse itself. The scene even calls back to Cooper and Truman’s early Season 1 dialogue in the Diner, in which Cooper instinctively saw that Truman was in love with Josie. This time it’s Truman who sees that Cooper is in love, and that subtle reversal is a nice grace note here, even if Cooper’s head-over-heels routine feels kinda rushed.

Cooper: “What’s Owl Cave?”

Cooper has been drawing what he says are doodles of the Major and the Log Lady’s bizarro tattoos, except that’s not what he’s doodling – not really. Sure, the tattoo that looks like the Twin Peaks mountain range is the same, but Cooper has taken the radiation symbol-esque design that was branded on the Major and turned it into a linked chain of diamonds that runs from north to south. No explanation for this change in symbol is ever given, and I find that odd. Nitpicking aside, it’s this doodle that causes Annie to remark that the drawing looks like “the one in Owl Cave.” And it’s this remark that leads to a further expansion of the show’s still-intriguing mythology. According to Truman, Owl Cave is located in “old Indian territory,” and is “supposed to be sacred ground.” Coop and Truman make the decision to investigate Owl Cave (is it just me, or does that sound like the plot of a Scooby Doo cartoon?), and we see that investigation bear fruit by the end of the episode.

So basically, the mythology of Twin Peaks at this point consists of some combination of (largely fictional) Native American belief, UFO lore and mysticism/magic. Sounds good to me. Deeply weird and ungainly and possibly eventually deflating, sure, but for now? I say bring on the Native American Alien magicians.

James (V.O.): “Dear Donna. You were right. I had to go.”

Donna was speaking for all of us, James. She was speaking for every last one of us. Donna gets a post card from boring ol’ James during this episode, and it’s good to get a reminder of his existence if only so that we’re also reminded that it is so, so good to have him gone.

Ben: “I am filled to the brim with goodness. Like a Christmas tree all lit up inside me. But at the end of the day, when I look in the mirror, I have to face the fact that I don’t really know how to be good.”

What about you? Do you know how to be good? That’s a simple question without simple answers, and I love that has dipped its toe into those waters, using Ben Horne to investigate, however tongue-in-cheek, the notion of living out the concept of “goodness.” Watching as Horne switches from cigars to raw carrots, as he wrestles with the conspicuously-new idea of being good for goodness’ sake as if puzzling out some exotic unfamiliar language, is genuinely entertaining to me. The notion of “goodness” needs to be defined within the parameters of the show if we’re going to measure it against the notion of Evil as presented in Twin Peaks – as undying, unstopping. Is good similarly expansive? Similarly vast and all-infusing? Are Love and Fear equal opposites? Or is Fear larger and more potent than Love? These are questions that the show is wrestling with on a number of levels. Much more on this n a week or so.

Cooper: “Two symbols combined into a larger whole. But for what purpose?”

As a follower of Tibetan history and Buddhist technique, Cooper shouldn’t really need to ask this question. The answer ought to be obvious to him: These symbols, while seemingly disparate, augment and enhance each other. Each gives the other meaning through its own existence. Without the “mountain” tattoo the “diamond” tattoo would be an empty symbol, and vice versa. The same, it can and has and will be argued, can be said about the forces of Good and Evil. We know that the Black Lodge is the “shadow self” of the White Lodge, and we know that shadows can’t exist without light. It’s arguable that Lost’s “two sides, one light, one dark” motif, and its obsession with Others was at least partially inspired by the ways in which Twin Peaks plays with duality on multiple levels.

And speaking of duality, there’s plenty of it present in the conversation that Cooper and Annie have while they’re at the bar of the Great Northern. To wit:

Cooper: “It’s all new to you. Everything.”
Annie: “I feel constantly amazed … stunned. Music, people. The way they laugh and talk. Some of them so clearly in love. It’s like a foreign language to me. I know just enough of the words to realize how little I understand.
Cooper: “I’d like to see the world through your eyes.”

My question and Annie’s question are one and the same: “Why?” We’ve already seen, many times and in many ways, how Cooper views the world of Twin Peaks with the bright, curious eyes of a newborn. Does he not recognize this about himself? Is this sloppy writing on the part of the episode’s scribes? Or is it an illustration of Cooper’s eagerness to experience life as fully as possible? No matter which way you slice it, Annie’s fresh eyes are a mirror of Cooper’s own expansive, childlike view of things.

The episode ends with the sight of Windom Earle entering the Owl Cave and discovering the strange (penis-esque) lever sticking from the diamond-shaped opening in the cave’s wall. Earle proceeds to give the lever a happy ending, which results in an earth-shaking orgas – err…I mean, it results in the wall of the cave falling away to reveal an enormous, enigmatic mural.

VARY YOUR RELATIONS…AFTER THE PAGE BREAK!