Northern Exposure, Season 4

Chris:
Recent events have set me to ponder in that ontological riddle: life, is it random or systematic? Today I opted for the systematic approach--algebraic, if you will; an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Like most human beings I'm just trying to make sense of things. I don't know if I accomplished that, I--I don't know if anybody can. You know, Isaac Newton, he thought that the universe functioned like clockwork...like a well-oiled machine. That's a comforting vision; it's neat, orderly, predictable. But it's a vision that's pretty much been shot to pieces by relativity and quantum mechanics--all the other bugaboos of 20th century physics... The universe is a weird place. We break our teeth developing theories, equations, and systems...where's it all leave us? "A system is like the tail of truth. But truth is like a lizard: it leaves its tail in your fingers and runs away knowing full well it will grow a new one in the twinkling." I don't know...what're you gonna do? Maybe next time I'll get a blockhead Harley...1340 CCs... Anybody out there lookin' to unload one, gimme a call, huh?

Chris:
Who is Chris Stevens? Who are any of us? Are we one person fixed at birth or do we grow like a snow ball coming down the mountainside of life? Or can we change? Shed our skin? The caterpillar becomes the butterfly, leaving the remains of his former self behind. I look at my yearbook photo, class 81, and I wonder who that stranger is. Damn if I know, maybe that's the point, maybe we are not supposed to know, maybe that's what this earthly joyride is all about. Like Robert Frost said "We dance around the ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows."

Ed:
Pete…I think you should know that I'm…I'm…I'm…I'm…I'm…

Pete:
You're what, Ed?

Ed:
Uh, kind of thirsty.

Joel:
You're right. You've got yourself a regular looney bin here. It's absolutely incredible that you survived. I guess you're made of something.

Elizabeth Stowe:
Poor Jane, always getting the fuzzy end of the lollipop.

Elizabeth Stowe:
Jeffy, why the sour puss?

Pearl McCaffrey:
Stephi left Jeffy.

Elizabeth Stowe:
Stephi left Jeffy?

Eunice McCaffrey:
She forgot her mittens.

Elizabeth Stowe:
Oh. Remind me to send her a thank-you note.

Joel:
I'll be in my office should a patient choose to darken our door.

Chris:
They say it's an ill wind that bloweth no man to good. I think our own Dr. Joel Fleischman will attest to that. For those of you who missed it, Maggie scored a one round decision over Dr. Fleischman last night. Right jab to the old honker. Pow! T.K.O. What better sign that the coho winds are once again upon us… My advice this year, don't fight them, embrace them. Know your enemy.

Mike:
Sometimes, Maggie, you just have to go for it. Grab for the gusto. Go for the plunge…

Bernard:
Continuous unremitting darkness has been known to send some people into an emotional tailspin, so the management here at KBHR radio suggests locking away the firearms. The desire to stick that 45 between the teeth can get pretty strong at times, so why invite temptation?

Chris:
I know it's short notice, but the bride-to-be is pushing for a quickie. Medical emergency. Nope, it's not what you're thinking. Anyway, I know a couple of us have been down the aisle with these people before, maybe this time, they'll make it to the altar. We'll keep our collective fingers crossed.

Ed:
Thanks for showing me the outside of your house, Maurice. I especially enjoyed the imaginary flower garden.

Chris:
Maurice J. Minnifield, our generous host, friend, and employer. I'm sure I join everyone in saying thank you for these very fine eats and drinks. You are a real American. You're an ex-marine and astronaut, you are America. You're rich, you're rapacious, you're progress without a conscience, paving everything in its path. You're 5% of the earth's population, yet consuming 25% of the earth's natural resources. You pay a lot of taxes, you do a lot of charity work--most of it is tax deductible, but your heart is in the right place. One thing's for certain, you have impeccable taste in the booze.

Joel:
You need nine guys on a field to play baseball and ten jews in a room to say kaddish.

Shelly:
Take it from me, H. You, me and the rug rat - it's going to be better than Superbowl Sunday.

Shelly:
My nips are as big as double-drop chocolate cookies.

Chris:
What is it about genus arboretum that socks us in the figurative solar plexus? We see a logging truck go cruising down the road, stacked with a bunch of those fresh-cut giants, we feel like we lost a brother. Next thing you know, we're in The Brick, we're flopping money down on the bar. Wood. We're under a roof. Wood. We're walking the floors. Wood. Grabbing a pool cue. That's wood. Our friends in the forest carry a set of luggage from the mythical baggage carousel. Tree of life, tree of knowledge, family tree, Budda's Bodhi tree. Page one of life, in the beginning. Genesis 3:22. Adam and Eve. They're kicking back in the garden of Eden and boom, they get an eviction notice. Why is that? "Lest they should also take of the tree of life, eat and live forever." A definitive Yahweh no-no. Be good to yourself Cicely, go out and plant a wet one on a tree.