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Whatever fleeting impulse had me queue up this classic (and for the record that ought to have been, “I go through the same thing at parties like this every weekend”—I distinctly recall the nerve this awkward finale struck at 3 or 4 o’clock in the morning after returning from one), it still makes me laugh.Tina Fey may titillate my dreams with platonic rewards, but her show has become a cast of predictable caricatures, a fate that probably befalls every ongoing production; Parks & Rec is next, and Community’s well on its way, if not already there. Come to think of it, Abed’s disassociative identity does remind me of Being There’s Chauncey Gardiner, played by Peter “Hrundi V. Bakshi” Sellers himself.

…Well, not really, and I don’t remember enough of the details to back up the claim, but I did “wake up” from where I had been sleeping no less than six times in succession (as many as ten, though after a while I must’ve tired of starting over the same way after each commercial in Star Trek: the Next Generation’s “Cause and Effect” and drifted off to other scenarios). No evidence of Nolan’s ingenious layering, but as demonstrated before, the effect is to realize you’re dreaming with the second or third and just have at it, such as the Groundhog Day-inspired “Window of Opportunity” episode of Stargate SG-1.

You’d expect it to happen more often, but it doesn’t: I followed up last night’s live-from-New York episode of 30 Rock—and not the awful second installment of the BBC’s new Sherlock that ended my evening… 2009, and cultural awareness hasn’t improved since The Talons of Weng-Chiang—with a dream featuring the cast of characters, myself of course among them. The details are so many tears in the rain, but I seem to recall being a lowly staff writer seeking Liz Lemon for recognition or otherwise and mistaking Alec Baldwin’s character’s last name as Geiss (his deceased mentor) at first before eventually addressing him as Mr. Donaghy. It was one of those typical frustrating affairs where I’d try and find someone who just refuses to be found, or get somewhere and even backtracking won’t return me to the same place. Either way, nothing nearly as good as Internet favorite-for-Superman role Jon Hamm’s “Please, I’m so tired!” line:

Will says women just aren’t funny, and if they try to be, they’re lesbians. Maybe there’s some sociobiological reasoning that making people laugh is an aggressive leadership quality, or that the one requires the other, which might explain Ms. Fey’s ambiguous glamor. Note that the 1-900-OKFACE clip is linked in the comments.

Tide’s turning again, this time away from 30 Rock, which hasn’t been doing it for me lately, back to the Office producers and their newer work on Parks & Recreation. (Modern Family on the night before is good, too.) I dreamed that I was part of a similar documentary crew, except we were returning to the show years later, to witness the changes at the company since. We walked through the warehouse first, much larger than Dunder Mifflin’s—turns out it was Spectrum’s, as the entourage escorting us included leather-jacketed Frank, Ben and their usual cadre of bankers a-courtin’. Jim and Pam had either moved on, or their fate left for surprise. We made our way to the small office up front, which everyone knew was now fully manned by Chinese. Further evidence that this was the future, people walked there through a holographic wall. It was squalid, in terrible disarray with only a single frumpy clerical worker appearing from a closet-like restroom; in fact, there was no distinction between toilet and desk. No receptionist, either, following the new practical standards from the East.

30 Rock continues to delight. (That exact phrasing from an old post I linked to just this week.) Last night’s embarrassment for Liz mines my own history in a scary way.

Has effectively replaced The Office for my Thursday night laughs. The tide’s finally turned against capitalism and overcompensated management like Michael Scott to put an end his 15-year tenure (fortunately only a third televised), which, while not the least bit funny, was well enough performed by Mr. Carrell. Quitting was his last act of incompetence, and this coming from someone who would know.

Dunno how long NBC’ll keep it up, but not too shabby a first whole episode. Never mind the 2-fer political progressives in the cast; for me, of course, it was the reunion of three from Night Court’s. Markie Post is 58 and looks great. Didn’t John Larroquette’s Dan Fielding once say to her as (a then pregnant) Christine Sullivan, “Do those get any bigger?!” And here I still can’t recite a single line from a Supreme Court case.