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CBS's The Mentalist Continues to Reveal How Caesar Invented Christianity

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The most recent two episodes of The Mentalist are great for all they reveal about history and the direction the show is going in. And I’m now very very certain that the next new episode, to air on Thursday, November 9th, and titled “Jolly Red Elf“ is going to be about Patrick Jane confirming that Kristina knew his father, Alex Jane, the man behind the serial killer identity of Red John. Or maybe they'll drag it all out even longer...

In last week's rerun of a season two episode, Redline, the female murder victim has, as always, a first name that is closely related to the myth and facts surrounding Julia Caesaris, Julius Caesar’s infamous daughter, who bore him two sons and worked in cons as far reaching as Cleopatra VII and the Virgin Mary.

Her name, Liselle, has been chosen because, when split into two parts, it consists of Lis from “Fleur-de-Lis”, which itself means Flower of Louis, which secretly refers to Julia as the Flower (or lover) of Lucius (her son and half-brother, yuck, I know).

At the same time, “elle” means “she” in French, thus reinforcing that one has to look to the French meaning of Lis rather than the English connection to Elizabeth, which itself must mean something like God Save the Royal House with a sly reference to Julia and her family being responsible for a bunch of inbred, mixed-breed bluebloods successfully taking over Europe even though anyone with a heart would much rather the original native “gentle giants”, the Neanderthals, had just been allowed to keep on doing what they were doing for over a hundred thousand years, living peacefully and simply in their god-given territory, despite ice ages and melting glaciers making things somewhat tricky.

So the dead woman is Julia.

And the car company is called Zenith - let’s say the best, the most important, or at least the one that thinks it’s the most important (selling a third car to a rich person isn’t actually as important as selling one good reliable cheap car to a single parent trying to do a good job raising their kids by hand).

The guy who’s in charge of the car place has Caesar-gray hair, as do so many in-charge older males on the Mentalist, is slightly balding, has medium eyes with a big nose which the more honest Julius Caesar statues clearly show. He also has a fully entitled, regal bearing. And he’s not exactly upset about the woman having been killed. He wants to know when the police will be done and they can reopen. Patrick Jane seems to know all too well what sort of things go on in an environment where people are pitted against each other in desperate and dirty competition. I can’t imagine being raised in a family of criminal con-artists who have to look like psychic saints is a warm and fuzzy experience.

This guy in charge also resembles Caesar in that he probably wasn’t upset after he himself killed his daughter Julia, because he wanted her dead, and wanted to get on with squeezing the natives of Europe for as much taxes as they’d pay if his two sons were playing their wise and loyal and very British kings, Cassivelaunus and Lud. But the glitch in his plans was that his two con-artist sons had enough sense to know they didn’t want to be caught cheating the Britons. The Jews had simply demanded the Romans put Jesus to death when they realized he was a Roman fake, but the Britons would have no doubt slaughtered the two all by themselves, and fast. So they tried to shove their dad off their cases, and it took Lucius ten years but he finally succeeded at killing his father and freeing the Roman Empire from his tyranny. Too bad old dad changed the will and put in that creep Octavius when he found out what Lucius was planning. Ever had someone in your life who was such an annoying and mean-spirited jerk that you wanted to kill yourself just to get away from them, let along be able to figure out a plan that would actually stomp out such an unkillable cockroach? I have. It was awful. In the end I found the best cure, as long as I could grit my teeth and bear it, was to treat him with so much ooey-gooey love that he had something of an allergic reaction and fled. Also I got very good at dissecting and analyzing his strategies, and learned how to talk fast enough and loud enough to force him to hear what I was saying about what he was doing. Also had a shooing-away effect on him. I think that’s why Patrick Jane has taken so long to figure out just how imbedded into his daily life his father has really succeeded at being. Patrick just gives himself the mental escape of pretending he’s free, joyful, and untouched at moments by his sick and cruel father. And that’s why he hasn’t really grasped, or is just beginning to, that as long as he’s obsessed with Red John, he’ll allow his father’s obsession with him to hold them in an unholy tango.

At the car place, a Gaius-character suggests that Julia couldn’t have succeeded at cons if she hadn’t used sex, “her beauty”. It’s well-known that Cleopatra was ugly but extremely seductive. One of her successful businesses was a cosmetics company and another was a cement company, if I’ve understood the veiled history correctly. But once she was drugged, lobotomied, or otherwise mentally disabled and shipped off to a tower in foggy Britain, she just had her pretty dresses and a lot of damp sunless weather to make her hair curly and her skin pale. Hence the look of Mary Magdalene. (The Virgin Mary is more from when she was a teen mom with beauty products and styling aids.)

A key early event in the episode is when Lisbon finally decides to tell Rigsby and VanPelt she’s reporting their romantic relationship, and one of them will be transferred out of the office according to the rules. Symbolically, this is Julia telling Julia and her son Gaius that they can no longer be in the tower together because they’ve started sleeping together. That makes no choice if Julia was the one to seduce Gaius. They can get away with a lot of vagaries as they build the characters because, for one, the events are 2000 years old, and two, Julia was said to be brain affected at the time. She may well have seduced him and had her split personality break up with him repeatedly. The change came when Lucius didn’t just sleep with his mother, but try to help her regain her sanity.

At the least, the show is suggesting that someone report that Gaius was doing his mom, and so he was transferred out of the tower, and Lucius was sent in to guard her, instead. All of this was so Julius Caesar had some sort of insurance against his daughter-lover-mate producing anymore heirs. She must have been in her thirties at least, to have two sons in their twenties, and after Lucius had spent all that time in the bible lands. Well, maybe the bible idea of Mary being thirteen when she has Jesus is right. Being as Gaius is older, well, he might only be Lucius’ half-brother if was born to one of the other Julia’s in the Caesar family, or she had him when she was twelve. Who knows? It’s all ick, ick, ick, but on account of the whole world having so much religion, government, celebrity, and entertainment based on these people, I’m going to keep going over and over the gory details til I get somewhere at bringing the whole mess down.

As the episode trips along, we see that Lisbon is grumpy about having given them heck, but still has to work on solving crimes. She and Jane end up at the chaotic apartment of the dead woman’s boyfriend, who several times in the episode is made to look like Jesus fresh off the cross, but with fashionable clothes and shorter hair.

The Jesus-figure is shirtless and smashing up a guitar. He has shaggy brown hair and a Jesus beard. Says he’s sad. Is obviously distraught and dramatic. A little fun-making at Jesus, Lucius, and Patrick Jane all being so “haunted” and “gifted”, compared to the simpler, more easy-going Gaius/Rigsby/carguy/Walter Mashburn?

Jane says it’s also guilt and self pity and a tingle of excitement. Jane also says he must be a good musician because Liselle wouldn’t have loved a bad musician, as she had good taste.

The conversation with this Lucius/Jesus is a chance for the show to tell us more about what Julia did once she was no longer in a royal palace in Egypt or Rome, but stuck in a foggy tower in Britain, or tromping all the way to Scotland and France while pregnant (yep, that’s the real time she had to travel while pregnant with a handsome young man who wasn’t exactly her husband and father of the baby in the normal sense). Julia must have done some form of “WORK” catering to rich egomaniacs and receiving gifts to support the whole enterprise of Lucius and Gaius as British kings spreading Christianity. I guess that’s why they call her a whore, Mary Magdalene, I guess. Like the car guy suggested, she wasn’t only relying on her brain to succeed.

The valuable black and white photo on the wall impresses Jane with how much it’s worth. I tried to google what it’s called, if it’s a real photo, but couldn’t find it. Anyway, the man says Liselle said they’d use it to pay for their wedding. I don’t even know if these shows can agree on whether Julia and Lucius were in love at all, had a wedding, or what. They sure have a lot of movies and tv shows to fill up with all the possibilities.

Now, the episode before this rerun, two weeks ago, called Red Moon, was VERY important.

I literally rewound the tape a bit too far today and so got rewatching a scene from Red Moon, in which Patrick Jane reveals that an honest-seeming and supposedly grieving young firefighter is actually the one who killed his own girlfriend and a number of policemen.

And I realized that I couldn’t put my finger on who the firefighter represented. He was built like a Gaius, tall and broad-shouldered, with a shield-shaped face. Yet he had slightly beady Jesus-eyes (he can also have very large Egyptian eyes, conveniently) and a long thin straight nose. But he also had Caesar bangs and was the murderer of the young woman symbolizing Julia. So maybe a young Caesar, or just a young man representing Caesar because they needed him young for the larger timeline he has to fit into? (Sometimes a female character represents Caesar.) So I replayed the conversation over and over, waiting for the pieces to fall into place, as they always do, now that I’m so overly familiar with the tale of Julius Caesar and his three kids, and finally it struck me that the exchange wasn’t describing anything historic, but rather that actual things they were talking about!

The reasons for killing. And how killers respond when questioned. I’m not talking about the random and isolated killers these shows lead us to assume all killers are, I’m talking about the bloodline princes who are raised to do anything at all to further the goals of the Atlantean Cult that secretly runs the world. Even ugly things.

So one by one, here’s what the discussion covers, between the investigator trying to get to the truth, and a killer trying to hide it or at least escape from punishment, even if it means shooting someone just because they’re smart enough to figure him out.

“There’s only one way you can be so sure of [someone else’s] innocence. It was you who killed [all the victims].”

Good point. Only the person who commits a crime can really know that no one else did it and that no one is fooling them into thinking someone did or didn’t do it. Therefore, the most knowledgeable group in the world is the group responsible for ALL THE CRIMES in the world. They can’t be conned, because they know and do all the cons, and anyone else who gives them a little competition is going to be either hired or killed. So, right there is a good reminder that no one knows as much about the truth as a criminal, as counter-intuitive as that may be to those of us raised to believe wisdom comes solely through age, spirituality, and totally passive acceptance. Wrongo-bongo.

The killer replies, “You’re nuts.”

Strategy number one. The Atlantean Cult always begins by saying their accusers are nuts, crazy, insane, not right in the head. The Church of Scientology, which seems to be the church of seeing if followers will believe science fiction is real and a fact, is the absolute pro at this, even though it only took me a few months to notice that Atlantean and Alien are rather similar words, so I don’t know why Tom Cruise can’t figure it out. In the same vein, Martian and Martin are quite close, and that’s because both refer to someone who is a follower of Mars, the god of war that was the Roman Empire’s patron saint. See, the whole big deal of shows like the Mentalist is how clever they were to switch from Roman Warriors to Roman Catholic Crusaders. That makes for just way more opportunity to put a clever spin on your motives and act like you’re the good guy, when you’ve got “saints and apostles” to back you up from behind (or whatever that Eurythmics song “Missionary Man” says).

And the fake psychic in this show refers to it also, Ellis Mars, meaning “My God is Lord of the Romans”.

But before I get to him, I was saying that they call their accusers crazy. First. It actually works a lot of the time. We’ve been trained to be very scared of being crazy. They make sure of that, by showing us all the time that “sane” people are liked and successful, and when people go crazy they get locked up and tend to lose everything. But what is crazy really? Having more options in what you choose to do? Speaking to voices in your mind who can tell you anything in the universe without the limits of physical information-gathering? Or being so out of touch with reality you don’t care what the Atlantean Brotherhood or anyone else says or does, so you just do what you like and go wherever it takes you, and don’t pay taxes, which is all they really want. Well, that and more victims to torture and fool in order to make themselves feel clever. Rather than the genetic experiments they really are, bred to have no feelings, no conscience, and no awareness of love.

Next, in reply to the charge that he’s nuts, Patrick Jane calls Todd the firefighter a “garden-variety psychopath”, implying that people who are good at killing are very common, like little flowers that grow on every street of every town. I agree. The Atlantean Brotherhood seems to be in a lot of places, watching everything. Especially now that people are chatting and thinking via electronic devices...

But the thing that confuses Jane is why Todd started killing police a couple years earlier. By talking it out and watching Todd’s reaction carefully, he thinks he’ll figure it out. He has a few guesses, but Todd just shakes his head and says he doesn’t see the “big picture”. And boy, does he ever not get it this time.

Todd is smiling as Jane tries to figure this out. And his smile, I’m now convinced, is because Todd knows the big picture very well. What Jane isn’t guessing, simply because it’s just, well, too horrifying for Jane to even figure out, is that his father, Alex Jane, or Red John, has become so obsessed with tormenting and controlling Patrick, and so skilled at manipulating people and situations, and using technology to do it (that’s why Patrick never commented on the “he is man” writing on the wall and said that now he realized Red John was far more powerful than he’d realized - every kid thinks his parent is a bit pathetic or slow to pick up on new technology, and embarrassed at the things their parent keeps repeating over and over). Patrick hasn’t fathomed, until the end of this episode, that his father hasn’t just become a serial killer himself, he’s been training or tricking people into becoming serial murderers just on the chance that Patrick can somehow be lured into investigating one of their murders. That means that, like, twenty people a year are being killed for the sake of Jane’s father saying, Look at me, Patrick. Look over her. Look at me. Ha ha, killed three cops and MADE YOU LOOK.

So the smile on Todd’s face is because he’s being amused by how well Alex Jane really has outwitted his clever son, who is very clever indeed. Despite the little clues, Patrick is still underestimating how far his father has gone, for years, to gain control over his thoughts and actions. The second fake psychic who his father has sent in to get close to him or just annoy him, Ellis Mars (and Kristina Frye was the first, also serving as an early Christian Church metaphor/Virgin Mary), is the thing that finally makes Patrick realize he’s not just being paranoid and it’s not just a coincidence. The weird thing has been how Kristina hasn’t been shown or mentioned since she was found in a strange statue-like state, only speaking to Jane when he pretended she was a spirit he was summoning in a seance, thus symbolizing her transformation into a self-believing Our Lady of Answering Prayers. So maybe now that his father has put a second annoying psychic into his life, Jane will finally go visit Kristina. Once this happens, we have Lucius arriving at the tower in Britain to take over from his brother in guarding his mother. But what does he find? (Thanks to both The Mentalist and "Brothers and Sisters" for educating me on all the sordid details, along with a half-dozen movies I’ve watched in the past year.)

Patrick Jane, as Lucius, will have to discover that his mother is mentally very not well. She doesn’t know who he is, maybe, or doesn’t know who others are but does know him. He will also find out that she was sleeping with his brother, but that won’t really work with this particular storyline unless Walter Mashburn has been working part-time as a mental ward guard. He will comfort her physically, and that will start to help her get her brain back in working order. I guess they could have her reveal, then, once she started reentering reality, that not only did Red John abduct her and massively hypnotize or drug her into a Madonna-stupor, but he’s her father or step-father, making her and Jane brother and sister in some way. The quote I read last week of Bruno Heller saying someone close to Jane was going to turn out to be something shockingly different than what we thought, well, my money is on Kristina both admitting she was trained to be a fake psychic by him, maybe, but her natural abilities took over (remember this is partly a PR move to keep us believing Julia and Lucius really were magical, spiritual people, in case a whole bunch of Christians figure out, by googling me, perhaps?, that they were the models for Jesus and Mary), and that she knew him as a girl, maybe as her father or step-father or adoptive father or something that will at the very least SUGGEST that Patrick Jane and Kristina are brother and sister. Gosh, I just realized something awful. With Patrick’s father being a wandering carnie and con artist, what if Lisbon and VanPelt are also his children from his wanderings? Ick. Yet sometimes I wish I was in the position to film a parody of the Mentalist.

So when, at the end of the episode, Todd lies close to death but did, somewhere deep inside himself, want to tell or warn Patrick how serious the situation with his father has become, he said the first line of his father’s favorite poem, “Tiger, tiger.” Horrifying Jane to finally realize that since he joined the CBI to help catch killers while staying in the loop about Red John the moment he struck, his father has, among other things, managed to force a nice young firefighter, with a gentle father and a “saint” for a mother, to become a serial killer using carefully planned details that will hopefully catch Jane’s attention and curiosity. (This is sort of an act of back-engineering Jesus.) Once he announced he would help with this case, the goofy Ellis Mars showed up, doing what is basically an impersonation of Jane. But what if it was also a family resemblance? They have basically the same facial features, same “proper” accent, same preference for suits, same confidence in their ability to quickly and subtly hypnotize people they’re talking to. When Jane does a double-take, is it because he vaguely recognizes the face of an uncle, perhaps? Or just someone Alex Jane hand-selected for his resemblance to himself and Jane? By repeating the words Kristina said to him when first meeting him and sparring with him, and whatever was on the business card, Jane was definitely nearing the awful but obvious conclusion. That his life for the past few years has been a construct put in place to manipulate him. And hey! that’s what modern reality is for all of us non-insider humans (for the insiders even worse, actually).

Remember, this is a show in which Bruno Heller writes and casts his characters for their resemblance to Roman citizens 2000 years ago. William Blake is like a sportscaster commenting on it last weekend, if you think about it.

“Who was it that made you this way?” Jane asks, mirroring the question in the Tiger poem, did the hand that made wonderful Jesus make terrible Cleopatra too? The creepy thing is, of course, that the answer is Alex Jane, same monster who made you too, buddy.

But when Todd answered Jane’s question by telling him he didn’t understand him, Jane gets a bit touchy and lists off what he has figured out. Here we get a primer as to the reasons killers kill people other than their targeted or purposeful victims, just because it’s hard not to get caught when you’re a killer killing all the time.

“You killed [your girlfriend] because she was getting too clingy, she was asking too many questions about your other life, she bugged you.” I take it this is such a common problem that we don’t have to go assuming Bruno Heller or Simon Baker are actually killers who find it difficult to have longterm relationships. No, I think they just pick lovers from within the family, who are comfortable with the whole Bonny and Clyde angle. This character being a hired killer doing the ugly bidding of a serial killer, but not having the brains to pick a girlfriend who will understand and help him, rather than freak if she finds out, is pandering and patronizing. See, I used to buy all this crap, and I’m still a little BITTER about it.

Jane guesses another victim was killed because he figured out a clue and asked the seemingly innocent killer about it. So he had to be killed to hide the clue. This must also happen a lot. And if you’re a killer already...

Then Jane says that the killings weren’t timed to the moon for implied romantic or mystical reasons, but were timed to his girlfriend’s grandfather getting a check and getting drunk, giving Todd a perfect alibi. This is also a very important point for chronic killers, making sure they have alibis, that lovely little guarantee you’ll look innocent because so and so seems innocent too and will say where you were so that you couldn’t have possibly been somewhere else, specifically the place where the killing happened, when it happened. Anything can be faked, alibis, ten thousand years of supposed history, genuine charm...

It’s sad for the Atlanteans that reality leaves so many clues. I’m sure they’ve tried to solve that little problem. Becoming the experts at reading the clues is a genius move, because then they can misread the clues to their own murders and get paid for doing so!

“The whole big picture, the reason, you’ll never me, it would blow your mind...”

This is Todd’s way of telling Patrick that his father is behind everything. Just like the Atlanteans are behind everything. Yes, it sure did blow my mind. And I was what could loosely be called a highly-intelligent, highly-educated person. Nothing like finding out the 20th century was a sham run by greedy and alexithymic idiots.

Jane is shown standing by a car looking overwhelmed, trying to let go of terrible tension, and move on to the next phase involved in killing his father, Red John.

Then Todd is shown glimpsing his face in a distorting mirror in a jail room of some sort. This refers to the poem that’s coming up, about a thing that is beautiful and gentle, but in its evil twin or its distorted reflection or just in its flip side, is horrible and disgusting. The man therefore has a conscience, along with whatever inside of him made him go along with what Red John wanted him to do, if anyone could resist him, which I have the bad feeling this show is going to argue nobody could. (Hey, here’s an idea, Bruno Heller. Let’s make the game real, and you can publicly state that you can corrupt me to work for the Atlantean Brotherhood as a hired pen in six months or less, and I’ll try to resist becoming a soulless slime.) His father was a cop, so maybe he attracted Red John’s attention because his father had prosecuted Alex Jane for fraud years ago? And so Red John, angry at a gentle cop married to a woman who was a saint, set out to turn their dutiful son into a creepy killer, just for kicks? (Again, sort of back-engineering Jesus into Lucius.) Kind of makes sense with the theme of the show. And so now Todd’s looking less confident, and considering that maybe he should help Patrick Jane stop his father rather than leaving Jane unaware as to how much destruction Alex is doing just to manipulate him.

But, when Jane finally agrees to go down and hear his “secret”, the man has burst into flames. Did Red John hear him somehow, and realize he was going to spoil the whole ruse, reveal too much without clues and clever riddles to make it oh so entertaining? (Once a Mason, always a Mason.) So Red John got to him and burst him into flames before Jane could get there to hear his secret.

Wait, I just finally figured out the whole flames thing. I’ve been wondering if Julia really set her father Julius Caesar on fire, because Lisbeth does it in the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo books, and the other night I saw creepy Kevin Spacey in that movie with squeaky Helen Hunt and icky Haley Joel Osment, and Kevin Spacey had burn scars all over his face, and Helen Hunt seemed to want to end up with him and they were all reformed into good Christians by Haley’s idea that they should all be nice to each other. But, whether Julius Caesar really had burn scars on his face from his rebellious daughter setting him on fire at some point (I’m sure she scratched him or poisoned him a bit at least), there is OF COURSE the symbolism of the Phoenix bird, which suddenly bursts into flame, is born out of the ashes, then lives for another 500 or 600 years before doing it again, which, I learned pretty early on, is the symbol for how the clever Atlanteans pretend they haven’t been ruling the world ever since about 6000 BC, by moving house and letting some thugs burn down the last place. Or arranging fake wars to pretend one group of Atlanteans were massacred and another has taken over. I mean, come on, they’ve got the same character (jerks), the same meanings to their names (red, father, spear, victor) each time, and, frankly, the same big noses and bug eyes each time. So by having a young Caesar burst into flames shows, symbolically, that Caesar was just fine with the idea of dismantling Rome and renewing it as a much more clever con, Christianity. Ppfff, why did that one take so long to get?

Then Jane is sitting with Todd in the hospital, the way someone who feels a deep duty does. Even though it’s not likely he’ll live or talk, he’s still sitting with the unconscious burn victim who tried to shoot him just hours before. Because once Jane has seen someone become the victim of a killer, especially a victim of his father, he becomes loyal to them. And once he knows someone’s burdened with terrible secrets, especially that his father used among other tricks sexual weirdness to manipulate them, he becomes their angel of tenderness.

And then, when the man, just before dying, does utter the words, “Tiger, tiger”, referring to a poem written by a man hundreds of years ago who was obviously privy to all the alchemist and monarchist and Marsist secrets of the modernish world (he showed a giant hideous dragon just waiting to devour newborn babies - I agree. The dragon is hideous. And it’s name is the Atlantean Brotherhood Cult. So get out of the house now, Simon Baker, NOW), we have all the parts coming together, the horror of horrors for the Mentalist to realize the extent of his father’s obsession and murderousness extending into far flung crime sprees (no matter how sick and horrendous they have Patrick Jane’s life turn out to be, it really doesn’t hold a candle to Lucius’ place in history on the horror scale) and the ever-present fascination with how the Caesar family could make so many delicious characters. It’s kind of like they were some proto-Vaudevillean family, like the Gumm family who spawned Judy Garland and wishes about rainbows, only to turn it around and frighten us to death with Liza Minella hopped up on meds and unable to stop caterwalling and attending ill-fated weddings with plastic-surgery-addicted pedophiles.

The rerun that played last week was a helpful handful of clues, but more than that it was a total confirmation that logic is not the most important thing about this show. Because why would two men who are complete strangers just suddenly start acting like brothers and taking long walks on beaches while discussing their inner qualities which just happen to be the well-known qualities of two brothers named Gaius and Lucius Caesar? That the episode is about super-expensive cars (which are, I’ve slowly come to accept, a key symbol of the chariot-driven world of the Romans and Egyptians) and the cut-throat world of car salesmen who sell such costly cars, and introduces the character of Walter Mashburn, a wealthy but bored, fun-loving and curious businessman who takes to Jane like a duck to water.

There’s also TWO other parallel storylines about Gaius, who people inside the Atlantean Brotherhood really seem to feel a need to pin down accurately before getting onto the more showy Lucius, who played Jesus, banged his mother, had a kid with her, then killed his father for killing her. Then worked on the whole idea of Christianity as a way to conquer all of Europe for his sick little family dynasty.

But Gaius, well, he was the old brother, the first in line for the throne, who turned out to be more brawn that brains, who wasn’t so clever or driven, and who ended up dead, killed by his own father for something he didn’t even do! We can all relate to getting heck from our parents when we’re innocent (or guilty). It sucks.

You know, even Charles M. Shultz wrote the comic strip Peanuts to honor Gaius. As a lovable loser, who is outwitted by his spiritually far wiser younger brother, symbolized by Linus, who couldn’t actually be his brother because that would reveal the other theme of the strip, incest. Lucy is the bossy Cleopatra version of Julia, while Sally is the adoring blonde child-bride-to-daddy version of Julia. And together they’re obsessed with Linus, and ignore Charlie Brown, except when they need something. And that’s Gaius’ role in history. Second fiddle to his younger brother, a con-artist with the same training as him but who ends up the world’s most famous saint, while Gaius just ends up dead for something he didn’t do. Well, to be fair, it seems to always be implied that he was banging his crazy mom in the tower there too, but she dropped him for the more charming Lucius, who took the pony home and made a child out of the sick mess, known as the Holy grail. Heck, Hitler and all the knights of the round table went hunting for the thing, while people just look at Peanuts to laugh at what a miserable loser Charlie Brown is. I can almost understand why insiders obsess over the story of the Caesar family drama. It seems to contain many things that many of us can relate to. Or maybe they’ve just made up those bits to keep us watching the plays, shows, video games, award-winning films, updating the scenarios to match the current mode.

In truth, Lucius and Gaius were both probably guys that none of us would stand or understand. Let’s say you hopped into a time machine, went back to 60 BC or so, kidnapped them, spent a year teaching them English or learning Latin, and then really picked their brains. I know a man, quite well, who was raised in a European country with an absolute certainty in his superiority. It was stunning to see, when I was raised to think I’m crazy crap and inferior to Americans. And I got tired of listening to his go on and on about how certain he was in everything he did. No self-doubt. No wiggle room for considering he might just be a jerk.

“Why does everyone else get to have a normal life?” This is what Jane rather light-heartedly admits to feeling sometimes, in conversation with fellow child-incest victim, Theresa Lisbon. (See? Lis, again, in combo with a French word!)

Not long after, Jane and Lisbon meet Walter Mashburn, who despite being kind of flaky and fun, seems to be able to read Lisbon and Jane very well. When Walter realizes they think he’s a murder suspect, he enjoys that for a change. Someone is thinking of him as a menacing threat. Rather than as Charlie Brown.

I’ve seen pictures of Gaius as Cassivelaunas, and he’s certainly drawn as brawny and frighteningly vikingish. Yet there’s that account in Strabo, was it?, about how well-spoken he was, seemingly having been educated in the schools of Athens or something. This was a native Briton king he was describing, by the way...

Anyway, the three levels of story about Gaius in this episode are:

The car saleswoman, shrewd and rich, with the cool dramatic musician boyfriend, with one of the salesmen portraying Gaius to their Julia and Lucius. This is a clever way to imply the age difference between Julia and Lucius, on account of Julia having given birth to Lucius as her second living child. She’s the high-powered business woman, he’s more like a teenager trying to get a band going.

And there’s a Caesar figure both in the guy who runs the car place, and in the customer who hired Jesus to steal back the fancy car his wife stole from him and held incriminating evidence and blah blah blah. Both have identical hair, faces, and ages.I think the point is to say that Caesar had some secrets, and if they ever come out, they’re going to wreck the whole “I conquered Europe fair and square” con. AND he forced Lucius into playing Jesus and early Christian preachers, and Jesus crashed and burned on the first task, but ended up off the hook for any wrongdoing in the second. This is all represented in the show, I just don’t have the paper to go over each symbolic bit in full detail. Or it’s the patience I lack. For the first dozen articles I was trying to convince myself... The Jesus guy, though, has a good name. By calling him Jeff Sparhawk, they’re referencing Nennius disguising himself as a Golden Shoemaker. Or something like that.

The second is Rigsby and Grace bickering about what to do now that they’re in trouble for having a relationship at work. It doesn’t go well. They’re that kind of couple who have some gently pulling chemistry, but once there’s a problem, they just seem to self-destruct in a kind of fizzly way. So by the time Lisbon finally tells them she won’t report them as long as they act like they’re not lovers at work, they’re snapping fine, fine, because they can’t stand each other already.

The third Gaius is Walter Mashburn. Who, as he strolls along a beach in Britain, sums up Patrick Jane’s abilities and feelings with a strangely familiar knowledge of him while also slightly putting him down as “just” relying on certain tricks and so on, like big brothers do when they resent the star-quality of a younger sibling.

He also says he had a wife who was into all that spiritual stuff. This refers to his contempt for the mystical stuff Cleopatra was into and Lucius followed, which we also learned about in the episode about a young woman witch and her teenage boy follower who had an older brother who was a football player, and there father looked like Caesar and beat everyone up. Really, could I REALLY have not spotted these patterns on my own without being guided to learn about this whole Hail Caesar racket? I think I just didn’t care. I knew shows followed formulas. I just didn’t know they were all following a formula which revealed Christianity to be a Roman hoax.

Here’s the laundry list of Gaius characteristics the show tells us, word for word:

He thinks of Lucius as a charlatan (fake, trickster, con artist).

He mocks that Lucius is on this “hopeless quest for redemption, battling evil and injustice.” (ie, inventing Christianity to replace Rome - I take it Gaius wasn’t one of the family members who thought it was a good idea, because he’s more:)

hates being ignored

also cunning
hates to lose

will do anything for a thrill

is an admirer of Julia, but is rejected, hung up on

Okay, there, that’s enough. The only person my writing probably makes sense to are the insiders who encode the scripts.

BUT, let’s see if I can convince someone, somewhere, that there is a VERY BIG CON going on, and it’s in our religions, in our tv shows, in our thoughts and minds and feelings.

But they can’t get into your soul.

The Jesus character, near the end, says he killed Liselle with his selfishness. (Lucius left Julia in France once she was safely hidden with their child, and he went back to work in Britain. She got bored with France and headed back to Rome, may have married her grandfather or even Caesar himself, who then killed her once and for all, no resurrection included.) Jeff Sparhawk, the shoemaker,  wanted to take care of her, and because of that took a terrible risk to do something criminal in hopes of a big payoff. The real murderer, on the show I mean, was the number two salesman, who killed her just to improve his ranking at the dealership. But remember, the dealership represents the Roman warrior ethic, and Jane makes some comment about how number two always tries harder. So he’s saying that yes, Lucius really was “responsible” for Julia’s death, in getting her pregnant and thus making their father want to kill her, and then hiding her in France but leaving her to be tempted by her own royal discontentment to return to the family palaces in Rome. Gosh, that woman abandoned a lot of children. Or had sex with them. It’s like Oprah and Jerry Springer and even old Donahue couldn’t handle the scandal with their combined power, if the Caesar family ever decided to come out in public and confess. Come to think of it, are talkshows just an acting out of the whole drama? That’s right, I noticed this one family on Oprah one day, and they were totally cast as Lucius and Julia, and totally Atlantean, and had had three children murdered, and blah blah blah, boo hoo hoo. Oh, I just want to wring these people’s necks for making such a mess of the world.

Well, we’ll see on the Thursday after next if my decoding powers have predicted what will happen on the Mentalist. The problem is the glacial pace with which they get around to actually affecting the main cast. Meanwhile they whiz through the whole story twice with each little murder. I don’t actually have much hope. I think it went the way of the dodo once I found out what a scam all that faith, hope, and charity garbage was. Now I just feel depression, determination, and disgust.

They’ll never again convince me Jesus was a saint, and certainly not his mother or his brother or father. They all seem like overly entitled pigs to me, because all anyone really is entitled to is a free ride on planet earth, end of story.

(Next week is another rerun, Red Herring. I just cheated and read a plot summary, and oh my, they actually use the name Julia!!! And there's a pregnancy, a secret pregnancy!!! Woohoo!!!)


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