Closet Theist: House, MD

The eponymous character of “House” recurrently, vehemently rants about religion and faith.

Nothing a little Oxycontin won’t fix
The bad doctor’s atheism is so adamant we perceive the doubt in it. Occasionally an episode pits him against a “miracle” that thwarts his wizardry, giving us a glimpse into his tortured, brilliant heart; a small, satisfying insight into the limits of empirical logic. We like seeing his cynical god-like façade peeled back and the possibility of an upper-case God being suggested.

House’s unspoken gift and dirty secret is intuition. On strict percentages, there’s a one in a trillion chance of him consistently zeroing in among near-infinite causalities to find a cure every damn show. There’s always that tinkling music moment when he connects disparate, inspired puzzle parts.

The breakthrough is always the supra-logic of intuition. It’s his shadow ally, his unacknowledged partner, it’s his M.O. and S.O. It attends him faithfully, but while he’ll own to Vicodin addiction, he’d sooner shoot his piano than admit dependence upon something so ineffable as a higher power. That could lead to eleven other steps; that could lead to liberation from his addiction, that could result in the show being lame.

House is cool because he is lame on his own resolute terms. God love him.