The
Big Bang Theory Season Two: Sheldon Speak
Sheldon Cooper continues to exhibit his distinctive wit
and worldly perspective in the second season of the CBS comedy The
Big Bang Theory. While classic one-liners continue to be a staple
of Sheldon Speak, longer soliloquies that play to character’s
tremendous intelligence and ego are mixed into the season as well. But
just like season one, the best dialogue centers on discourses involving
science fiction and comic books.
In an early
episode, for example, Sheldon refers to fellow scientist Leslie Winkle
as his arch enemy: “The Dr. Doom to my Mr. Fantastic. The Dr.
Octopus to my Spider-Man. The Dr. Sivana to my Captain Marvel. You know,
it’s amazing how many super villains have advanced degrees. Graduate
schools should probably do a better job of screening those people out.”
Other sci-fi
observations include:
“I
couldn’t become Green Lantern unless I was chosen by the Guardians
of Oa, but given enough start-up capital and adequate research facility,
I could be Batman.”
“It’s
my pre-packed disaster evacuation bag. It’s recommended by the
Department of Homeland Security. And Sarah Connor.”
“You
know how I know we’re not in The Matrix? If we were,
the food would be better.”
“I’m
sorry, but I’m not going to watch The Clone Wars TV series
until I’ve seen The Clone Wars movie. I prefer to let
George Lucas disappoint me in the order he intended.”
“I
see no large upcoming expenditures unless they develop an affordable
technology to fuse my skeleton with adamantium like Wolverine.”
“I’ve
given the matter some thought and I think I’d be willing to be
a house pet to a race of super intelligent aliens. The learning opportunities
would be abundant. Additionally, I like having my belly scratched.”
“The
Japanese, they’re doing some wonderful work with artificial intelligence.
Now you combine that with some animatronics from the imagineers over
at Disney, next thing you know we’re playing Halo with a multi-lingual
Abraham Lincoln.”
“If
Sky Net actually did exist in the future, a perfect way to infiltrate
and destroy mankind would be to send Terminators back posing as actors
who have played Terminators in popular films and television series,
lulling us into a false sense of security.”
Perhaps
the most popular contribution of season two is Sheldon’s reinterpretation
of the game “rock-paper-scissors,” which he reinvents as
“Rock Paper Scissors Lizard Spock.”
“It’s
very simple,” he explains. “Scissors cuts paper. Paper covers
rock. Rock crushes lizard, lizard poisons Spock. Spock smashes scissors,
scissors decapitates lizard, lizard eats paper, paper disproves Spock,
Spock vaporizes rock. And as it always has, rock crushes scissors.”
Although
not as scientifically-diverse as in season one, Sheldon still rattles
off his fair share of one-liners in season two.
“For
the record, it could kill us to meet new people. They could be murders
or the carriers of unusual pathogens.”
“A
fear of heights is illogical. Fear of falling, on the other hand, is
prudent and evolutionary.”
“A
tremendous accomplishment would be if the planetary body he discovered
were plummeting to Earth and he exploded it with his mind.”
“The
problem is not solved. If your head had been accidentally amputated
and we transplanted a dog’s head in its place, would that be problem
solved?”
“I’m
a published theoretical physicist with two doctorates and an IQ which
cannot be accurately measured by normal tests. How much scarcer could
I be?”
“I’d
rather have a blow fly lay eggs and hatch larvae in my auditory canal.”
“I’m
in such a good mood I’m actually finding your tenuous grasp of
the English language folksy and charming today.”
“Would
you like some advice? Then this is the perfect time to launch a blog
with an interactive comments section.”
“I
believe the appropriate metaphor here involves a river of excrement
and a Native American water vessel without any means of propulsion.”
And when
neighbor Penny shows an inability to follow his instructions, Sheldon
comments, “Personal robots cannot get here soon enough.”
To call
Sheldon Cooper “unique” is a gross understatement. During
season two, he tells the following story about his childhood that puts
that uniqueness in perspective:
“When
I was eight, a Montgomery Ward delivery van ran over our family cat,
Lucky. While others mourned Lucky, I realized his untimely demise provided
me with the opportunity to replace him with something more suited to
my pet needs. A faithful companion that I could snuggle with at night
yet would be capable of killing on telepathic command. I wanted a Griffin.
Half eagle, half lion. I was studying recombinant DNA technology and
I was confident I could create one but my parents were unwilling to
secure the necessary eagle eggs and lion semen. Of course my sister
got swimming lessons when she wanted them.”
Futhermore,
Sheldon often has difficulty comprehending every day tasks, such as
driving.
“This
first question makes no sense,” he tells the clerk when applying
for a learner’s permit. “‘How many car lengths should
you leave in front of you when driving?’ There’s no possible
way to answer that. A car length is not a standardized unit of measure.
Question two: ‘When are roadways most slippery?’ Now there
are three answers, none of which are correct. The correct answer is
when covered by a film of liquid sufficient to reduce the coefficient
static friction between the tire and the road to essentially zero but
not so deep as to introduce a new source of friction.”
In the
end, Sheldon gives up on learning to drive. “Have you ever wondered
why my little toes and lateral incisors are significantly smaller than
the average for someone my size?” he asks roommate Leonard. “Those
are indicators that I am farther along the evolutionary scale than the
average human. I’m not going to go so far as to say that I represent
a distinct new stage in humankind. A homo-novus, if you will. No, that’s
for anthropologists to decide. But I am convinced that the reason I
cannot not master the plebian task of driving is because I’m not
meant to. I’m meant for greater things, like unraveling the mysteries
of the universe, not determining when it’s safe to pass a stopped
school bus on a country road.”
Sheldon’s
ego is front-and-center throughout season two, especially when he greets
the latest incoming class of graduate students. “Looking out at
your fresh, young faces, I remember when I too was deciding my academic
future as a lowly graduate student,” he tells them. “Of
course, I was fourteen and I’d already achieved more than most
of you could ever hope to despite my nine o’clock bedtime. Now,
there may be one or two of you in this room who has what it takes to
succeed in theoretical physics, although it’s more likely you’ll
spend your scientific careers teaching fifth graders how to make paper-machete
volcanoes with baking soda lava. In short, anyone who told you that
you would some day be able to make any significant contributions to
physics played a cruel trick on you, a cruel trick indeed. Any questions?”
That ego
also blooms when he meets real-life physicist George Smoot. “You
won the Nobel Prize, what, three years ago?” Sheldon asks him.
“You must deal with a whole lot of ‘what has Smoot done
lately.’ My thought is, we continue my research as a team—you
know, Cooper-Smoot, alphabetical—and when we win the Nobel Prize,
you’ll be back on top.”
Smoot simply
replies, “With all due respect, Dr. Cooper, are you on crack?”
Despite
these numerous additions to Sheldon Speak, the best line of season two
actually belongs to Leonard Hofstadter when he makes the following observation
about his inimitable roommate: “The guy’s one lab accident
away from being a super villain.”
Anthony
Letizia (February 8, 2010)
