So if you know me at all, you likely know that Twin Peaks is one of my favourite things in the world.
Twin Peaks first aired in spring 1990 when I was seven. We got started a few episodes in–my memory is foggy but I know Aunt Judy had told Mum about it and when a couple of episodes were on (I swear we were staying at a hotel with Dad at the time because I remember it on the TV there to this day) and the immortal words were uttered: “Who killed Laura Palmer?” I was supposed to be asleep, probably, but I watched it. Later I think we borrowed the show on tape from Judy, and when they re-aired the first season prior to the second, we faithfully recorded each one. I remember Mum and Aunt Judy talking endlessly about the wtf of it and who killed Laura Palmer, trying to piece together Cooper’s dream (when, really, this is David Lynch we’re talking about–there is no piecing it together).
I was obsessed.
With everything about it.
Granted, yeah, it had lots of mature subject matter for a seven-year-old. Molestation/rape, a serial killer, prostitution, etc. Most of that I didn’t fully grasp at that age.
But Agent Cooper.
AGENT COOPER, YOU GUYS.
Special Agent Dale Cooper was the perfect man (still is, as far as I’m concerned). My first TV crush, predating Jonathan Brandis by several years. He was my hero. Brilliant, kind, honorable, funny, handsome, and one of the most unique, best written characters on TV, breathed to life perfectly by the one and only Kyle MacLachlan (WHO WISHED ME HAPPY BIRTHDAY–yes, because I asked him to, shut up). For years I was determined I was going to be an FBI agent, not realizing, um, that’s not a Canada thing.
Only Agent Cooper could make me endure the killer Bob week to week, who terrifies me to this day.
When y’all eventually get to read Solomon’s Seal and meet West, true fact: he was named after Cooper (Dale West).
Twin Peaks was also my first early-cancellation heartbreak, long before Wonderfalls, Firefly, Miracles, Hannibal, etc. I’ll talk a little more about my memories of the last episode airing when I get to it during my re-watch.
Re-watch, you say? Oh yes.
— Skyla Dawn Cameron (@skyladawn) September 29, 2015
I got a PS3 at last, and next to a couple of games I immediately wanted the Twin Peaks Entire Mystery set because MANY DELETED SCENES from Fire Walk with Me, despite already having the DVD boxset. Look, it’s this and Buffy, okay? These are my things. Since I very rarely have blog content anymore (Oblivion is kicking my ass, so no book updates, and I just don’t care about anything enough to rant or whatever), I might blog recaps/reviews and you can play along at home if you like. Netflix US has the complete Twin Peaks series if you don’t have it. If you don’t want to play along, that’s cool too. But there’s a broader thing I want to talk about here. Everything’s getting rebooted/new seasons/etc. Nostalgia reigns. It’s making a lot of people happy to get more X-Files (David Duchovny, why don’t you love me?), and Heroes, and whatever else is coming. And then there’s the usual bunch of snarky people quipping in with, “Who cares? I don’t care about this thing that you like so now I’m going to loudly shit on it.” Hey, you know how I’m a raging bitch and yet you never catch me bitching when people get excited about sports championship things, even though I don’t like sports? That’s because their enjoyment doesn’t cause me any harm. It’s a thing that makes them excited and a lot of people have shitty lives, so if this is something that brings them joy, I am happy for them. Last year, I was really sick. Really. Sick. This-could-be-cancer-or-something-else-terminal sick that took six months to be diagnosed. Six months of growing to believe I was dying. Six months of thinking they would never figure it out and I’d feel like that forever. I was in bed most of the time without the energy to walk, rapidly losing weight, and nothing brought me joy (although binge-watching Scandal helped). And then this happened:
Followed by this confirmation:
— David Lynch (@DAVID_LYNCH) October 6, 2014
I kid you not, my immediate reaction was: I NEED TO LIVE. SOMEONE NEEDS TO FIX ME SO I CAN LIVE TO SEE THIS. COOPER IS STILL IN THE BLACK LODGE, WE NEED TO GET HIM OUT.
This is the power of fiction and art, whether television or books or whatever. When things are really dark for someone, it can be the one spark of hope that keeps them going and gives them something to look forward to. Twin Peaks S3 is still a thing I look forward to. Sometimes it’s that “By god, I will LIVE to see Agent Cooper and Audrey again” that gives me the extra push when I need it.
So find the thing you love and keep loving it.
If this is a thing you love, or might want to love with me, you can watch along at home. I’m doing a few online courses at the moment (Forensic Psychology! Egypt! Living with Psychosis! Why did I think three at the same time was a good idea?), plus there’s work and stuff, so I don’t have a real schedule here but I’ve got thirty episodes to watch, plus the movie, and for an added bonus I’ll do the Dual Spires episode of Psych as well. (If I’m up to the nightmares, I could re-read The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer while I’m at it.) Barring a disaster, I’ll try to watch an episode or two a week on Friday nights (EST). If you want to watch too, whenever, tweet me your reactions for the lulz. I’ll hashtag #FireWalkwithSkyla.
I was going to start “when things quiet down” around here, but, you know, that’s never going to happen. So I’ve got some (decaf) coffee and cherry pie and fuck it, I’m starting this evening. I’ll be on Twitter, and I’m not the type who tweets every three seconds, so hopefully it won’t be annoying as fuck. Then I’ll post a review/recap on the blog sometime before the next episode.
For now I leave you with my favourite Julee Cruise song.