Mark Lee hosts with Pete Fenzel and Jordan Stokes to overthink the allegory of the Simpsons anniversary episode, the last twenty years of the show, and why Disco Stu can’t have his own episode.

Want new episodes of the Overthinking It Podcast to download automatically? Subscribe
in iTunes! (Or grab the podcast RSS feed directly.)

Tell us what you think! Leave a comment, use the contact form, email us or call 20-EAT-LOG-01—that’s
(203) 285-6401.

Download Episode 80 (MP3)

"Mmm...macroeconomics"

[Special thanks to Stokes for coming up with the concept for this D'OHverthinking It post. - Lee]

It’s often said that the Simpsons are intended to be an iconic representation of typical lower-middle class Americans. The father works a semi-skilled blue collar job, and they own a home and two cars, but they’re always a little short on money, and their financial problems have often been used as major and minor plot points in the series.

But “The Simpsons” is an episodic TV show–that is, plot elements typically don’t carry over into future episodes. Granted, there are some exceptions (the death of Maude Flanders being a notable one), but for the most part, problems that arise in one episode are resolved in that episode, and that’s that.

The same holds true for the Simpsons’ financial problems. Someone in the family (usually Homer, but often Marge) makes an unsound financial decision, pays the consequences of that decision for the duration of the episode, and is finally saved from that situation through implausible but humorous plot devices. Problem solved. Subsequent episodes may mention other specific or general financial difficulties, but never the lasting ramifications of past mistakes or hardships.

Sounds familiar? Like how for the last twenty years, consumers and individuals kept borrowing money to solve problems until the credit stopped flowing?

[Enjoy this D'OHverthinking It guest post from Trevor Seigler]

There’s an entire school of debate about which is better, The Simpsons or Family Guy. In my mind, it’s no contest; Homer and his yellow-skinned brood smoke the competition when it comes to comedy that comes from plots and not hilarious-yet-distracting cutaway gags. But the ultimate triumph of Groening and company comes from one simple fact: you have no clue where Springfield is.

[Enjoy this D'OHverthinking It guest post from Chris Morgan!]

We all have a touchstone in our lives. The one thing we hold closest to our hearts. The one thing we can always rely on. For some it’s family or religion. For others it’s bees (apiarists mostly). For me, it’s The Simpsons. As far as I am concerned it is the most glorious thing mankind has ever accomplished, and you can take all your airplanes, polio vaccines, and wheels and jump in a lake if you disagree. On December 17th, the show celebrated its 20th anniversary. There have been 450 episodes, and I have seen every single one of them.

Of course, people have been complaining about the show for years. Cries of “Worst episode ever” have been heard for so long, they were able to deal with it in “The Itchy and Scratchy and Poochie” episode (my personal favorite) and that was all the way back in season eight when the show was still fantastic. I have never been one who likes to bemoan the show. If anything, I am a Simpsons apologist. Yet even I must admit the show is a mere shadow of what it used to be. In fact, I don’t even really look forward to new episodes anymore. I merely sit down in front of my TV (or my internets, more often) and hope for the best. I no longer love the show, but I cannot bring myself to leave them. You know, like most marriages.

In fact, and I it depresses me to even have to say this, but last season me and the show had our lowest moment; I couldn’t make it through the full episode. It was just too bad. It was the episode “Double, Double, Boy in Trouble” in which Bart meets his exact double who, get this, comes from a rich family! Hilarity didn’t ensue, soul crushing did. I made it through leprechaun jockeys. I made it through raccoon families that look like the Simpsons. I couldn’t make it through this.

This is not a parody either, really. It's a... what is the word. Fiasco?

Man.  Writing about The Simpsons is hard.  Even though I’m still a fan, when I sit down to try to talk about the series, I find myself asking, “which series?”  It’s been around for so long… the show itself has changed, and I’ve changed, so the way I relate to the show has changed a LOT.  Trying to talk about all twenty years at once doesn’t even really seem possible.  Note that I’m not one of those people who says that it used to be good and then jumped the shark.  It’s just different now. (And it’s not just one before-and-after difference either.  I can think of at least three or four different phases in the show’s development — or rather, in the development of my relationship to the show?)

I cannot for the life of me figure out a way to celebrate or analyze their 20th season.  So instead I’ll just use The Simpsons as a jumping off point to talk about musical parodies, which have been much on our minds of late.

That’s right: embiggen.  What?  It’s a perfectly cromulent word.  I have it here right in my Scrabble dictionary in between “d’oh” and “kwijibo.”  And if you don’t like it, I’ll call you a craptacular, cheese-eating surrender monkey.  (Or your non-union Mexican equivalent.)

Okay, so we know that The Simpsons has hit the big time language-wise, what with words like “meh,” “yoink,” and “d’oh” entering the dictionary and sayings like “I, for one, welcome our insect overlords” and “worst episode ever” entering the popular lexicon.  These words and phrases still have power, and they’re still funny—after all, if they weren’t, the memes wouldn’t continue living on in blog posts, YouTube videos, and YTMND… things.

But I think we’re due for some new* Simpsons-related bon mots, don’t you?  So I’ve scoured Simpsons episodes and episode guides for the top ten useful words and sayings that need to find their way back into our lives.

*And by “new,” of course, I mean old: all of these words and saying come from The Simpsons’ first through eighth seasons—you know, the good ones.

In honor of the upcoming 20th Anniversary of the premiere of The Simpsons, Overthinking It is devoting this entire week to a look at how America’s Favorite Family has transformed the cultural landscape. Welcome to D’OHverthinking It!

Shana Mlawski gives us ten more additions to your Simpsons vocabulary. Good ol’ rock; nothing beats that.

Jordan Stokes takes us on a tour of Simpsons musical parody over the years. If you were ever curious about the chord changes in “Dr. Zaius,” Stokes is your man.

From the guest writers, Chris Morgan guides us through the rising complexity of Springfield in his post Purple Monkey Dishwasher, and Trevor Siegler finds that he is in a Springfield, USA State of Mind.

Stay logged on for some excellent guest posts, additional Simpsons content and a very special Simpsons-related podcast on Monday morning, right after the anniversary special.

[This week's Think Tank is inspired by an article in the New York Times describing fans' fixation with one of the most famous pieces of furniture in fiction, Captain Kirk's chair from the original Star Trek TV series. The Overthinking It writers offer their own choices for the greatest furniture in fiction--vote for your favorite at the end of the article, and suggest your own in the comments.]

Superman’s Bed (Superman II)
by Belinkie

I’m not talking about the bed Clark Kent has in his Metropolis apartment. That bed is probably utterly uninteresting. Nice hard mattress, plain white sheets, maybe boxes of sweaters stored underneath. But the bed in the Fortress of Solitude is pretty fascinating.

The Fortress grows from a single Kryptonian crystal in the first Superman film, and until the midpoint of Superman II, we have no reason to believe there’s anything in there that’s not a crystal. “Minimalist” is a good word for it. In fact, they joke about this earlier in the film, when Lex Luthor sets foot in Superman’s inner sanctum. ”It has everything!” he exclaims in wonder. ”Not everything,” Miss Tessmacher grumbles. Lex sighs. “Why didn’t you go before we left?” ”That was two days ago.” (POSSIBLE ISSUE TO OVERTHINK LATER: What are the odds that Lex made it from Metropolis to the North Pole in only two days, traveling largely by balloon?)

The Fortress has definite grandeur, but it is short on creature comforts. Or is it? Because in the middle of Superman II, we suddenly see the Man of Steel and Lois snuggling in a vast expanse of silvery fabric.

I suppose Superman could have lugged a bed up there from the Metropolis Crate and Barrel. But the weird shiny fabric suggests suggests this bed came with the fortress. This is a traditional Kryptonian bed. And it drives me crazy, because we never really get a look at it beyond a couple closeup shots. Is it a rectangle, or the shape of the Superman emblem? Is it 20 feet wide? Is that fabric some sort of alien material that breaths like cotton but insulates like wool?

And if the Fortress of Solitude has a freakin’ bed, then what else does it have? A night table? A dresser? A microwave? You know, despite Miss Tessmacher’s earlier grumbling, I’m going to assume that the Fortress actually does have a bathroom. Because even if Superman himself doesn’t pee, or has some sort of super bladder that can hold it for months, I doubt he’d take Lois to an igloo with no plumbing for their first date.

In last Sunday’s episode of The Simpsons (which I still watch), Moe falls in love with a woman on the internet. From her picture, she looks like a knockout. So he invites her to meet him at the bar:

Then we get twenty minutes of midget jokes. (The best is when Luigi the Italian restauranteur meets her and says, “Oh Moe, she’s a-beautiful! But so far away!”) But all through the episode I was thinking, “Haven’t I already seen a story about an internet romance where the woman turns out to be a midget?” Finally, I remembered: it was back in the heyday of Boston Legal. Here’s Mr. Denny Crane, waiting for his date:

And if you watched to the end of that clip, you saw a truly unfortunate commercial juxtaposition.

Now, this Boston Legal episode aired in late 2006, less than three years ago. This isn’t ancient history. You’re telling me that no one at Fox noticed when the Simpsons writers came up with the same plot? Then again, it’s possible that they knew about the similarity, and decided to do it anyway. The Simpsons take is obviously a lot different than the David E. Kelly take, so maybe it’s not such a big deal.

What do you think? Is this sloppy of The Simpsons, or am I just being a nitpicky Comic Book Guy?

[Warning: Spoilers for the fourth Futurama movie.]

I was lucky enough to join Mr. Wrather at the sneak preview screening of Futurama: Into the Wild Green Yonder at this year’s NYC Comiccon.  I found the plot somewhat hard to follow (although, possibly, that was part of the point), and the first third, which involves Bender dating the Robot Mafia Don’s girl, was completely irrelevant to the rest of the film.  Each individual bit, however, was pretty funny–much funnier than the first two Futurama movies, in my opinion.  Overall, though, I still found it inferior to any old Futurama episode running on Comedy Central.

But OTI isn’t a reviewing site; it’s an Overthinking site.  And Overthink I shall.  But I’ll do it below the fold so you can avoid tainting your brain with the spoilers I must reveal.  If you’ve seen the movie or don’t mind being spoiled, read on, Macduff.