S2, E37: "Eugene Goes Bad" / "What's Opera, Arnold?"

"Eugene Goes Bad"

Eugene is showing Arnold and Gerald (don't those two ever hang out with anyone else for a change?) his Arnold Schwarzenegger fandom: The Abdicator. The Abdicator? What kind of name for a superhero is that? To abdicate is to not do what you're supposed to. It's like calling a TV villain "The Altruist." Certainly no kid is going to be looking up "abdicate" in the dictionary, so I guess I can let this slide for now. Oh... I get it. Very sneaky, writers. I see where this is going now.

The next morning, there just happens to be a live recording of an episode of The Abdicator. And right in the middle of Hillwood, too. How convenient! Anyway, this Abdicator guy is all sorts of nerdy. One of his lines right before taking a swing at the bad guy is that he protects all citizens, regardless of race, religion, or political jibber-jabber. Is that supposed to be a side PSA to the viewers of the show, or a shoehorned message to us?

I knew Danny Zuko was a bad boy, but I didn't think he was a bad guy.

So, right before the Abdiwhatever knocks the villain clear on his ass, the director brings in the stuntman. Eugene is confused. Basically, this whole ritual is a reminder to us that Hollywood actors are all fake and don't do their own stunts. And then the actor who plays The Abdicator starts whining and being a real asshole because he wants his snacks. Again, this is a reminder to us that not only are actors bitch wimps who can't even punch a guy, but they also use their fame and money to stomp around like a primadonna. Eugene is so furious that he crosses into the set and yells at Arnie for being a bitch-ass wimp (I wonder if someone on the set of this show had a bad experience with Arnold Schwarzenegger because from what I know, he's actually a really nice guy).

Also, I can't stop laughing at that little army of Abdicators on their lunch break. It's adorable to me for some reason.

Arnie makes a fair point through all of Eugene's belittling--he's not really a hero; it's just a role he plays. I can understand Eugene being upset, but to act like an ass to the guy who acts like an ass himself is just doing no one favors. So, Eugene gives up his smiley, upbeat ways to turn to the darkside. Because his "hero" is a fake. What a weenie.

Back at home, Eugene goes through the stereotypical "bad boy" makeover--throwing out all his shit with The Abdicator's face painted on it, donning a black leather jacket, gelling his hair, inserting a toothpick in his mouth so it hangs out the side. If he starts singing "Grease Lightning," his transformation will officially be complete.

The next day at school, Eugene does "bad boy" things like pulling the fire alarm and talking back to Wartz... who does nothing. Typical Wartz. Ooh, and he litters too. So bad! This really isn't bad boy behavior. Eugene's just being a little brat. Remember Frankie G? Of course you do--he was a stereotypical bad boy as well, but his behavior was more rooted in his personality.

 And then there's this kid here who looks so disappointed in Eugene. He will be important to the episode later.

Sometime later, Arnold approaches Eugene and tells him he's changed. Wow, Arnold, you certainly are the perceptive one, aren't you? What tipped you off? If someone needs to be told straight-out Eugene has changed, they must be riding the short bus.

At least Eugene doesn't try to claim he hasn't changed. 

So this is Spot. He used to look up to Eugene as a hero he could "emulate," an example of what he might be when he grows up. Who the hell writes this dialogue? Honestly? Have they never heard a seven-year-old speak? 

This is the kind of kid whose parents started pushing calculus on when he was three.

As wrong as this sounds, I kind of like this bad version of Eugene. I don't know why. Maybe because it suits him, kind of as a middle finger to the world for all the times it's screwed him over. And it kind of works: he's been less clumsy since turning bad. Less clumsy.

We cut back to our good ole Arnie, who was so upset by Eugene calling him out on his fakeness that he couldn't sleep, and even looked up the word "abdicate" in the dictionary, distraught over its actual meaning. Damn, get a grip. But it's nice that he cares so much, considering kids need a hero to look up to. But why a super hero? As they say, not all heroes wear capes... or tights.

And then he goes for a walk to think about his role in life.

Eugene thinks no one cares about him, which we learn is the real reason he's so "bad." So, wait--does he think this all the time? Is this why he latched onto this guy like a facehugger? If it's true that Eugene feels so unloved, that's a whole other issue altogether. I mean, we know Helga has a family that doesn't care for her as much as they do for Olga, and she puts on a nasty persona to push people away, including Arnold.

What exactly goes on in Eugene's household?

Spot goes out past his bedtime because now he's bad. And he somehow ends up dangling off the edge of a fire escape. How the hell does that even happen? Eugene tries to rescue him, because "everyone needs a hero." So I guess that "bad boy" phase is over, huh?

Eugene slips and hangs from the edge by his jacket. Of course he does. Arnie hears them screaming for help and rescues them. Damn. If he hadn't left his limo and been on that very street, both of them would have fallen and died. Perfect timing!

So... how did Spot's parents not hear their seven-year-old kid crying for help? Such negligence. No wonder why this kid looks up to Eugene. My God... is this like Inception?

Everyone is safe now, and that's all that matters. Now, go get some sleep, kid.

"I'm supposed to be in bed by 8:30, right after my favorite show, "Yo Earnest!" - Spot

"What's Opera, Arnold?"

Why is Mr. Packenham escorting Mr. Simmons' class on a field trip? Did Mr. Simmons end up in the hospital from a yoga-related injury? And also, why does the name Packenham sound vaguely sexual?

Jokes aside, the class is on a field trip to the opera, and no one is happy about it. They moan and groan and make fun of the different operas that people put so much hard work into. Mr. Packenham tries to keep an upbeat attitude about the wonders of the classics, though I bet in his mind he's imagining stabbing each and every one of those kids with the spear in the poster.

Today, the class will be seeing Carmen, a tale of power and faithful love--basically a love triangle with our leading lady, a handsome chap, and a bull fighter. All of a sudden, the class is riled up to see this, though I don't see how a Shakespeare-like love story is any less boring to them. Mr. Packenham struggles to word the plot of Carmen into something G-rated, which makes me wonder why he's taking them to see this in the first place. But the whole thing is sung in French, so I guess it doesn't really matter.

Everyone goes inside as the show is about to begin. Helga does one of her famous soliloquies, and then spots Ruth in the distance. Why is Ruth on this field trip? I thought this was just Arnold's class. Whatever. Helga wonders what she's doing wrong that Arnold fails to fall into her arms, but then basically tells us why by shoving an usher off-screen while getting to her seat. Bitch.

I must say, this is one beautiful arena. I'm a huge lover of classical architecture, so I'm impressed by all the little details:

That chandelier is gorgeous.

The show begins, and almost immediately, Arnold falls asleep. He dreams that Gerald is a tenor singer, I believe (I could be wrong), and Harold is Pagliacci, the sad clown from the poster outside the opera house. 

After Harold "Pagliacci" runs offstage, Arnold is transported to the set of Carmen where his friends and classmates are all immersed into the set of Carmen. Now, keep in mind, I've never seen the opera, and I'm just going by what I know of it already. Ruth, as Carmen, comes out in traditional Spanish clothing trying to give Arnold a boner by being so damn charming... I'm sorry, did I say charming? She talks about her hair. 

What happened? I thought Arnold didn't like Ruth anymore after realizing she was an airhead. I guess they needed someone to play Arnold's love interest, so maybe the writers want us to forget about the Valentine's Day episode. 

The chorus plays wingman, encouraging Arnold to introduce himself and ask Ruth to dance. Unlike the real world, where Ruth thought Arnold was a busboy, Ruth takes great interest in Arnold here. Maybe she likes his hair. Or his cape. Hey, it's Arnold's dream.

Speaking of the real world, Helga wakes Arnold up for snoring as loud as a truck. Bahahaha!

Act One is over, and then Helga falls asleep. In Helga's version of Carmen, she flies down on the back of a pegasus as a viking and insults Ruth in front of Arnold.

And the best moment in the episode:

"How could you do that, football heeeeeeeead?"
"FOOTBALL HEAD!"
"FOOTBALL HEAD!"

Helga uses her golden magic slingshot to catapult Ruth--I mean drop her under the stage onto a plush floor--and steals Arnold so he can join her on her band of gypsies. 

Right when everything is going perfectly, the handsome and sexy Curly "Escamillo the torador" comes along and steals Helga's heart. Wait, why would Helga dream of Curly as anything other but a psychotic freak?

Though I must say, he is a fantastic singer. And I love how he manages to fit a round vase over Arnold's head. 

Curly showers Helga with gifts, including a ring. Arnold gets angry, and then challenges Curly to a fight with rubber safety swords. Helga loves the attention Arnold is finally giving her. Too bad it's still only in her dreams.

And you know what else? Even in her dreams, she can't get Brainy to stop breathing down her neck. Oh, I would have loved to see him play Escamillo.

Arnold shoves the rubber sword in Curly's armpit, and he's dead.

Helga is finally about to get her kiss from Arnold, but an earthquake strikes the stage and the scene goes black. Helga wakes up, practically in Gerald's lap. I love the realization that neither of them have been paying any attention to their surroundings to have ended up in this awkward situation.

Unfortunately for Helga, her fantasy ended too soon. Awww. Perhaps if you stop being such a bully, Arnold will notice you the way you want him to.

Lessons Learned From These Episodes: everyone needs a hero; if you go out after bedtime, you might die; opera can be fun

S2, E36: "Coach Wittenberg" / "Four-Eyed Jack"

"Coach Wittenberg"

Arnold and Gerald need a new bowling coach for the upcoming bowling tournament (because it's no a tournament unless kids from Arnold's class tag along!), and Coach Douchebag--ahem, I mean Coach Wittenberg--is the only clean-record adult they can find. Coach Wittenberg, eh? I suppose since he Tucker isn't around to absorb his father's abusive behavior, he must resort to yelling at a mop bucket when things don't go his way.

We learn that Coach Wittenberg has been fired from three other coaching gigs since coaching basketball, so his wife, Tish, has kicked him out of their house until he can get a real job. And so he is here--yelling at inanimate objects in a dirty bowling alley bathroom. Hey, a job is a job, but when you can't even mop a floor correctly, perhaps the issue is you.

Who else wants to bet that Coach Wittenberg was once a promising, talented high school student who got lazy, dropped out, fell into major debt, and is now using the concept of winning to gauge his quality of life?

So, who else but Arnold asks the guy who got fired from four coaching jobs to be the coach for their bowling team? A gorilla from the local zoo would be a better coach.

On this team, named the Zephyrs (cool name!) is Arnold, Gerald, Harold, Rhonda, and Eugene. Why is Rhonda here? Is it just for the sake of a girl on the team? And why not use another minor character like Sheena or Nadine instead? Whatever. After a few rounds, it's clear that everyone sucks ass at bowling, so the only way Coach knows how to dole out any kind of instruction is to make everyone do push-ups.

Naturally, everyone hates Coach Wittenberg's "coaching" so they ask Arnold to fire him. What the fuck is he, their messenger boy? If the other kids hate him so much, why don't they talk to him? Arnold has taken so much pity on Coach Wittenberg's failed attempts to instill teamwork and skill into children, so he says he can convince Coach to lighten up on the yelling and physical punishments. I wonder if Coach even knows how to bowl himself; we never see him demonstrate proper techniques once.

Arnold goes to Coach's house, and my God... I know this is just a cartoon, but if a kid went to his coach's house, while he's in his bedroom, in his underwear, that's a straight-up pedophilia lawsuit waiting to happen. Like, seriously, couldn't they have talked in the kitchen? And couldn't Coach have put on some pants?

Judging by the sink next to the bed, I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say this is a studio apartment.

Arnold tells Coach to be more sensitive to the kids' lack of skill and use some "psychology." Coach is so desperate to not be fired, so he hangs onto Arnold's every word and promises to do as he says. Is Coach Wittenberg even being paid to do this?

The next day during practice, Coach instructs Eugene to think of his favorite food while bowling so he can take his mind off winning. For some reason, it works.

"Strained beets... strained beets..." - Eugene

Does that mean if I think of lamb gyros and TGIFriday's Jack Daniel's burger, I can become a master bowler as well? Hot damn, sign me up for a league!

Of course, it's hinted that this technique isn't for everyone, specifically Rhonda who doesn't think bowling is cool. Coach conveniently whips out a teen magazine highlighting celebrities and musicians who bowl, so that peaks Rhonda's interest, making her a fantastic bowler as well. What the hell kind of techniques are these? How is this happening? No tips on aiming, no posture techniques... just bounce off their personalities, and they'll bowl better? No wonder this guy is a shit coach. Despite it actually working, what is this supposed to teach? Be sensitive and people will do better? Again, one extreme to the other.

Everyone's been doing great. Coach is confident they'll do well during the tournament, that is until Coach Wittenberg's wife and her team walk in. What?!

When was it established that Tish had her own team of tots? Or did Tish just find five girls who wanted to bowl and said, "Hmm... maybe I should humiliate my husband while he's still down. Yeah, that'll boost his confidence." What a bitch. These two are perfect for each other.

Helga leads the squad, and her team is dam good. So good that Coach Wittenberg is now scared that his team will lose, because at least Tish's team learned actual bowling techniques.

But Goddamn, with scores of 435 vs 421, Wittenberg's team isn't doing all that bad. And for a bunch of kids getting strike after strike after strike, that's something I'd expect to see on Good Morning America. Professional bowlers don't even score this well. What's Coach Wittenberg getting so heated about? Oh, right... this is the man who's obsessed with winning. If Tucker was here, Coach would probably be making everyone pass the ball to him.

Still, because Tish's team is doing better, Coach gets pissed and starts yelling at everyone again, making everyone nervous and making them do worse.

Coach says they have to win, otherwise he's not a good coach. Arnold says he is a good coach because he has instilled confidence and "potentiality" and other big words that make me question who in the hell finalized this script because even nine-year-old monks like Arnold don't talk like that.

Eugene gets a 6/7 split, a very difficult position to achieve a spare from. Coach reverts to Arnold's sensitive coaching methods, helping Eugene think of strained beets like before. Eugene gets the spare, and naturally, Wittenberg's team wins by a single point.

Tish and Coach Wittenberg make up that night or so, and then at the local burger joint, Coach joins Tish in her car and they engage in some greasy make-up sex. Huh... perhaps this is why Coach is so obsessed with winning--it's the only way he knows how to turn his wife on.

"Four-Eyed Jack"

Arnold and Gerald are having a sleepover, and find a pair of coke-bottle glasses inside a box of books.

Grandpa comes in with some milk and cookies, notices the glasses, and tells the tale of Four-Eyed Jack, a homebody who once lived in the boarding house basement who was always experimenting with beans.

One night, Four-Eyed Jack's pressure cooker exploded and he died, leaving his spirit behind to haunt the boarding house until his glasses were found.

So, instead of Grandpa letting the kids sleep peacefully, he forever corrupts their minds by telling them that the boarding house is haunted by a blind ghost who smells like beans.

Arnold drags Gerald on a ghost hunt after hearing some bumps and thumps in the walls, leading them to run into Oskar in another fight with Suzie. Arnold tells Oskar about Four-Eyed Jack, but Oskar doesn't believe in ghosts because he's not superstitious.

"What do you mean you're not superstitious? You keep a horseshoe in your pants."
"Don't mock my family's traditions. A-heh-heh-heh."

They hear gargling noises from behind Ernie's door, so they go ton investigate. Ernie tells Arnold not to mess with spirits otherwise they'll do scary shit to him. Then, Ernie listens a bit closer and thinks he heard noises coming from the basement, so they all go to investigate. Why do these adults care to play ghost hunt with Arnold and Gerald? Do they have nothing better to do?

They find Mr. Hyunh gargling in the basement kitchen after a lengthy build-up to his silhouette in the dark. And then the sky turns red and blows in these papers in a strange poltergeist formation. Why this happens, I do not know. But I do know that it's freaky as fuck, but no one else seems to think so.

And yet Mr. Hyunh gargling is scarier than a supernatural sight like this. Bull. Shit.

Gerald is still skeptical, complaining throughout the entire episode that he doesn't believe in ghosts. If this was a horror movie, he would definitely die first. Why? First, the black guy almost always dies first. Second, the monsters always go for the non-believers first as a warning to those who are pissing their pants in fear that there most definitely is something out there trying to get them.

The boarders follow moaning noises into a closet with a secret hallway behind it.

They make a note that the hallway has this awful, putrid smell, and I guess we're supposed to believe it's the smell of old beans from Four-Eyed Jack's experiments of the past. All this build-up leads to the discovery of a gorgeous, secret downstairs bathroom, and Grandpa who just took a massive shit following his raspberry dessert. I guess that explains the smell.

"Never eat raspberries, boys." - Grandpa

So, the secret is out. Damn, Grandpa is such an ass for keeping this bathroom a secret while providing the boarders who pay rent one tiny bathroom that's falling apart. So, is there a Four-Eyed Jack? Well, he apparently appears in the middle of the night to retrieve his glasses and scare the shit out of Gerald.

"Um, boo." - Four-Eyed Jack

Lessons Learned From These Episodes: being sensitive will help you win; it's not about winning or losing--doing your best and being a great coach is what matters; no more ghost hunting if you want clean underwear; never eat raspberries

S2, E35: "Hall Monitor" / "Harold's Bar Mitzvah"

"Hall Monitor"

Warning: In this episode, you will be confronted with one of the most common morals you will ever see in children's television: just be yourself. It is actually one of the worst "morals" you could ever learn, and this episode inadvertently demonstrates why. 


It's Helga's last day as dictator of the halls, and everyone is kissing the ground, thanking the gods for allowing them to finally be free to walk on the left side and drink from the water fountains for more than three sips.

Mussolini would be proud.

Principal Wartz holds a congratulatory assembly in the auditorium for Helga's month (?!) of service as hall monitor, which is absolutely asinine. She didn't serve in the military--all she did was roam the halls and yell at people for minor infractions--that's hardly worth a "Good job, kid." I'd hate to see how Wartz congratulates people for earning straight "A"s on their report cards.

Alas, it is now time for the monthly hall monitor to select the new monitor for the month. Wait, what?! Doesn't that mean someone essentially volunteered Helga to be the hall monitor for the month? Who the hell did that?

Anyway, she selects Phoebe, and everyone silently makes a collective sigh of relief--finally someone they can walk all over. Of course, Phoebe isn't pleased one bit about this new hire.

The next morning, Helga gives a rightfully-skeptical Phoebe a pep-talk about her new job--it actually works, and Phoebe even gets a little excited about being hall monitor. That is, until she actually has to  be the hall monitor.

Phoebe is getting pushed around, knocked down, shoved aside, and ignored--all ironically as Helga walks Phoebe to class telling her how she has to stand up for herself. And while it's absolutely true, it definitely won't be easy.

"A first-grader stepped on my glasses... and I was still wearing them." - Phoebe

See, Phoebe reminds me a lot of myself. A lot. If I were to be hall monitor, this is exactly how it would play out for me. Kids scare me. They have no boundaries, no ounce of respect, and no consideration for authority. I wouldn't make a good babysitter for that reason, not sure I'd make a good parent, and when it comes to older kids and adults I'm the exact same way. Pushed around, knocked down, and ignored. I'm terrified of making my voice loud enough to be heard. So, I sympathize with Phoebe.

Then again, Helga is absolutely right--how would Phoebe get through life by being a doormat? She has to learn to stand up for herself, otherwise she won't succeed in life. And that inspires Phoebe to allow Helga to help her be more assertive.

The training is quick, and it's not very extensive. Basically, Phoebe just needs to learn how to yell.

The next morning, Phoebe tells Sid off (very politely) when he shoves her to get to his locker. Damn, what does he have against Phoebe? Sid almost tells Phoebe to fuck off, but then he sees Helga coming up behind Phoebe and backs off, much to Phoebe's delight. Though Phoebe believes she did it all on her own, it's enough to give Phoebe a nice confidence boost to continue being hall monitor.

Maybe a bit too much confidence, though...

Field Marshal Phoebe, as Arnold dubs her, is surprisingly even tougher than Helga, and appears to have gotten taller over the course of the short time she's been pounding the halls. I wonder if that's supposed to be metaphorical.

Though if one thing is truly annoying me this episode, it's Gerald. First, he complained about Helga being too bitchy, then he was reveling in how easy life in the halls would be wit Phoebe, and now he's complaining that Phoebe used to be a "nice, quiet girl." While he does have a right to complain, I just find him annoying this episode for some reason. Like, God forbid the halls are orderly. And God forbid Phoebe toughens up. I get that she's over the top, but does no one buy Helga notice that this tough attitude, again, albeit overdone, is actually good for Phoebe? If she tones down just a little, her confidence will be right where it should be, and she will no longer be a doormat.

Perhaps I can take a few lessons from the Field Marshal herself.

You would think Phoebe has gone completely off-the-wall, especially when Gerald lists off his detention slips, but when Helga cuts the lunch line for dibs on the last tapioca pudding, Phoebe nails her with a detention, much to everyone's shock and awe.

Helga truly believed she was above the law (like many, but not all, of our police officers), but Phoebe just schooled Helga in equality. You do the crime, you do time. It's completely justified--no one should be given special privileges just because they are associated with the "law." And if it wasn't for Helga, Phoebe would have never even thought about slapping that fated paper in Helga's hands.

In detention, we realize that Phoebe is worse than Helga ever was, but Phoebe is only this power-hungry because people never gave her any respect before. All the kids, and Helga, want the old Phoebe back--the old Phoebe who let other people boss her around and step all over her. Essentially, that's what the other kids want, even if they give cockamamie reasons like, "We want the old Phoebe who would lend out pencils and eat the crust off our sandwiches," not another Helga.

But why? Why can't she do all that while still being assertive? All those kids just want to get out of detention--they don't give a shit about Phoebe's lack of confidence. Why does it have to be all or nothing? Phoebe doesn't have to go back to being the quiet little mouse like she was. Why can't she just meet everyone down the middle--be more assertive, but not too much, and be kind? She can still be her quiet self, but just more assertive so that she has the confidence to tell off people who are treating her like shit.

Every kids' show does this moral so incorrectly it's not even funny. It's basically teaching kids that they shouldn't change an ounce of their personality, even if it's hurting them in the long run, for the benefit of other people. In the beginning of the episode, Helga was telling Phoebe that being so quiet and forgiving will hurt her chances of being successful. Successful in what? Getting a job, going on a date, being caught up in a fight... anything, really. And Helga is absolutely right. So where is that lesson here?

Phoebe says she doesn't want to be a bossy control freak just to gain respect from other people, and in a side comment, Helga rhetorically asks, "Who would?" in reference to herself. As we know, Helga doesn't have any respect from her family, and puts up this tough exterior in order to gain authoritative respect from other people--not personal respect, which are two completely different things. Phoebe is doing the exact same thing as Helga has been doing all her life. So why, may I ask, is it okay for Helga to be a bossy bitch, but not Phoebe? Because Helga is being "herself."

This is the reason why "just be yourself" is a shit moral. A a better version of this moral should be, "Never stop improving." Yes, that's the motto to Lowe's. And it's a great motto. Houses don't get better by just sitting there. You have to rip the rusty pipes and faulty wiring out and install brand new ones in--ones that work better and are more efficient. The house may never be perfect, but it will be marginally improved. Here's my moral for you guys:

Improve yourself, even if it means changing aspects of your personality that are stopping you from being your best self.

Of course, instead of Phoebe learning how to be more confident, she just dethrones herself and returns to her old ways. Fuck self-improvement! Just be yourself, even if your personality hurts you, and people will respect you! It's one of the biggest crocks of shit "morals" that people could ever learn.

And you know what? Phoebe being herself is what causes everyone to sneak out of detention--even Arnold the Saint. Yeah, it's that bad.

So, yeah, sorry for getting all moral on you guys, but---no. I'm not sorry. This is something that needs to be heard loud and clear because it's super important. Imagine how many opportunities and chances have been wasted in our generation alone just because people were told to "be themselves."

Hopefully in the future this vague, awful message will be eradicated from TV.




"Harold's Bar Mitzvah"

Ah, another Harold episode! This time, he's taking the path to manhood by preparing for his upcoming Bar Mitzvah.

Harold is about to go into the synagogue for his lessons but gets sidetracked by a game of ball. He barely gets to throw once before Rabbi Goldberg pops open the door and tells Harold to get his ass inside to learn more Hebrew.

The kids pick up Harold's Torah and blatantly insult Judaism and everything it stands for because apparently, these kids have never seen or heard of it in their lives.

"What's Harold doing, learning Chinese?" - Gerald

Okay, no. These kids live in the city--the whitest city on TV, mind you. I refuse to believe they have never heard of Judaism. And being that Hillwood is based off of Brooklyn, Seattle, and Portland (especially Brooklyn, which has one of the largest Jewish communities outside of Israel), there is no excuse for their ignorance. Perhaps Mr. Simmons ought to start teaching world cultures and religions and fewer meditation techniques to cleanse the soul.

Rabbi Goldberg struggles to prevent himself from blowing his top when stressing the importance of Harold's Bar Mitzvah that's taking place this Saturday, especially since Harold's Hebrew is rusty and he doesn't seem all that committed.

Rabbi gives Harold some background information about Judaism (which is really directed to us), and about what it means to be a man.

If a boy is head of the household by age 13, perhaps teenagers have a point when they say they can "do what [they] want."

The main point Rabbi is trying to drive home here is that Harold is now responsible for his actions, as part of being a man is righteousness, charity, and prayer--and Rabbi doesn't believe Harold is ready for said responsibilities. But Harold assures him that he will be.

After Harold gets out, he invites his friends to his Bar Mitzvah (rather, he tells them that they're coming or else), and tells them to get him a rad present. Again, he assures everyone that he's not at all nervous about becoming a man, but Harold's sleepless nights say otherwise. Perhaps if he had practiced a little bit more, he would be fine.

That night, Harold has a nightmare about all the responsibilities he would have had in ancient times, like feeding camels water. Naturally, Harold complains that he just wants to party and have fun. His friends appear on the backs of camels, all dressed in clothing of ancient Jerusalem. Helga is still in her normal clothes, of course. I like that, even in Harold's nightmare, Helga still sticks out and refuses to go along with the theme. It would be hilarious if Helga wore that same dress to her wedding... or to her own funeral.

The jug of water becomes bigger and heavier, symbolizing the weight of all the responsibilities Harold is going to have being too much for him to handle. And thus, he is crushed by it.

Come on, Harold. Be a man!

Okay, okay, in a way, I feel for Harold--he's still technically just a kid, and this isn't ancient times where thirteen-year-old boys would be prepared to take on manual labor of this degree. On the other hand, Harold needs to suck it up and be responsible for once, for the sake of his religion and his family.

Saturday morning comes along, and it's time to leave for the synagogue. Even during one of the most conservative events one could attend, the animators still cannot resist showing off Harold's belly button for no reason other than to reiterate the fact that he is fat.

Harold can't go through with this, so he packs a suitcase and runs away. Well, that certainly isn't extreme.

He runs into Arnold on the street, and tells of his plans to escape to Elk Island to live on his own so he won't have to be a "man" and take on responsibilities he's not ready for. Not to be a smart ass, but wouldn't living on your own include hunting for your own food, building your own shelter, and doing things yourself--taking on personal responsibilities to survive?

Arnold tries to convince Harold to rethink his decision, but to no avail.

In the midst of this plan, Harold encounters a mother looking for her little boy, Danny, and then a moment later, a little kid looking for his mother. At first, he tells each of them to fuck off so he can catch a bus to the harbor, but then decides to reunite the kid with his mother.

"What's your mom look like?"
"She's tall and has... hair."

The woman and son are eternally grateful that Harold reunited them, but Harold's like, "Whatever."

Harold then decides to get a popsicle, all while Rabbi Goldberg and Harold's friends and family wait (im)patiently for him to arrive. I know in this universe, kids are allowed to travel to China by themselves and back, but why aren't Harold's parents freaking out about where their son is? Do they not care that he's late? Do they not wonder if he got hit by a bus or got mugged or kidnapped by a masked man? What shitty parents.

Right as Harold is about to take a bite, he notices two snot-nosed brats fighting over a popsicle. Arnold the Saint suggests that they both split it in half, but the kids snub him. Another bus comes, and Harold can't stand to see the kids arguing over a popsicle, so he regretfully gives them his. Wow!

On the bus, some punk kid with nothing better to do starts teasing Harold and his suit.

The punk kid is about to beat Harold's face in, again, for no reason, and tells him to say his prayers, so that's what Harold does--literally. The strange words scare the punk kid away, which is the biggest cop out I have ever seen from this show. "He's saying strange words, so now I'm scared of him." WTF?!?! It's not like Harold was summoning demons--or maybe that's what the punk kid thought he was doing. (For those of you who know Hebrew, what was Harold saying? I'm curious.)

Harold and Arnold reach the docks, but it's only once Harold is climbing into the boat, Arnold reminds Harold that he is ready to be a man--he has put forth righteousness (when he reunited the mother with her son), charity (when he gave his popsicle to the snotty kid), and prayer (scaring the punk kid away). Harold is surprised at all of his good deeds, but is still going to Elk Island. Arnold shrugs, leaves, and tells him that he's going to Harold's Bar Mitzvah whether Harold is there or not. Hmm, that's like the equivalent of a mother telling her kid she's walking out of the store and leaving the kid in there by himself.

Meanwhile, it's been probably an hour or so since Harold was supposed to be at the synagogue, and Rabbi Goldberg is dancing around the fact that he's very disappointed in Harold. Again, why is no one not trying to look for him? This isn't the 2000s where Harold could text that he's "running late." Sure, Arnold probably got there and covered for Harold, but even then, his family would ask why he just left Harold at the docks. It just doesn't make any sense.

Rabbi is about to ask everyone to leave, apologizing with a nice slice of challah bread and wine, but then, Harold shows up. Yay!

Harold reads his prayers "beautifully," and then the party begins.

It turns out Harold never made it to Elk Island because he was ironically too young to rent a canoe (pffffft!), so I guess the next best thing was to go to the synagogue and become a man.

I wonder if the canoe guy would have let Harold rent a canoe after he read the Torah...

Lessons Learned From These Episodes: be yourself, even if your personality is stunting your confidence and self esteem; don't change, damnit, be yourself!; if you're Jewish and you turn 13 (or 12 if you're female), you have responsibilities to be a good person; you can't rent a canoe if you're under the boating age