Insanely long-winded explanation coming right up...
**
Hmm. Sounds a little weird just explaining stuff, maybe I'd better interview myself instead. 
(Insanity. One of the wonderful parts of being me. 
)
I was walking in the neighborhood yesterday and unexpectedly ran into myself. 
I was utterly polite. I even said excuse me, but I was too angry at myself to excuse such scandalous behavior. (Gosh, that sounds weird. I wonder why. )
"Where the ____ have you been?" I asked myself furiously. 
I was a little affronted at my own anger. "China, actually."
"For the entire summer!?" I waited for myself to cool down.
"Yep," I replied. "Well, I went to Singapore and Thailand too."
"What in the world were you doing for the entire summer, anyway?"
"Oh, different things. Practicing Chinese, traveling... you know, the usual stuff when you're halfway across the world."
"But why didn't you write?" I asked myself demandingly.
"Internet's a bit hard to come by. Plus, I was too busy seeing things like the Terracotta Warriors and the Great Wall of China." I didn't add that it was extremely exhausting to talk to myself so extensively.
"Well, you're just a regular old show-off, aren't you?" I huffed.
"Definitely," I teased.
By that point, I was cooled down enough to talk to myself civilly. 
"So were you there during the Olympics?"
"Some of it. The rest of the time I was on a cruise on the Yangtze River."
"That's just too unfair."
"If you say so. Half the time I was just begging for the lady advertising in Chinese to let us breathe for five minutes. When we were on the main boat, it was fine though."
"Still, most people don't ever get to do that anyway."
"We had a few horror stories, too, even though we were in first c.lass One German guy got bit on his toe by a mouse."
"No way, dude!"
"Way, dude. Middle of the night, too. He had to wake up and disenfect it."
"What'd the cabin crew say?"
"The lady in charge seemed to think the mice were necessary. She said something about being able to tell if there were earthquakes and things with the mice... it was total baloney."
"You went to the Great Wall, too, didn't you?"
"Yeah. Not the cool part with rides up to the top and slides coming down in Badaling, though. Couldn't go there because it was closed off 'because of the Olympics.' But I still climbed up to the highest point I could see from the bottom."
"That must've been a workout."
"Yep. Crazy humid out there."
"And the Terracotta Warriors? What were they like?"
"Well, there's a lot of remolding going on. A bunch of the warriors got crushed after the First Emperor died. Torched, too. But they've got a lot done, and they get more done every year. They have a surround sound video now, too, which wasn't there when my Dad went. It's really cool, projected on all sides of the circular room. It's especially nice during the war parts. They aren't colored, though, they've buried all of the ones that had color because they have no way of preserving them yet. And obviously you can't walk alongside them. There's just a path around the big dome."
"Did you get to see any Olympic games?"
"I watched the opening on television. A lot of the fireworks were computer-generated, and there's a part where a girl lip-sings. The fireworks weren't live, either. There was a sort of pre-show before. I guess you can't control live television. Oh, and we went to a couple of soccer games too. USA v. Nigeria and Argentina v. Serbia. Lots of cheering for Serbia, and only two rows in one section were cheering for Argentina. I was rebellious every so often and cheered for Argentina. I mean, there was some serious booing every time Argentina had the ball. They still won though. 
People were leaving 20 minutes early just because Serbia wasn't winning. It was a bit strange."
"Well, you'd better start writing! You've been putting it off long enough, slacker."
"On it."
**
Hmm. That's got to go on my list as one of the craziest, nonsensical things I've ever written. And now I'm bored, because real life is really pretty dull.
Well, however half-baked of an explanation that was, you now know everything and can now pester me with a million questions. (Or not.)
In case you want to read an actual interview, here's one I found on a forum somewhere. I like this one because it features RSL, and since it's not particularly professional, we get some fresh answers vs. regular revamped lines. From June, but still nice.
And now, it is time to stop procrastinating and get going on that Holmes stuff.
Let's start with the language parallel.
Both Conan Doyle and the House writers love to put little subtle language references in their writing to teach us more about the characters.
For example, we have the House references.
One of the first references we had was in "Humpty Dumpty" when House is "forced" to ask the question, "Donde trabajo su hijo los sabados por la noche?" It's very simple, it just means, "Where does your son work on Saturdays?" It's not even rehearsed terribly well, it's a bit rough, but the point they're trying to illustrate about the character is written in the next couple of lines.
Cuddy: Why didn't you say you spoke Spanish?
House: Well, because, she'd want to talk to me.
House, as we well know by now, doesn't like talking to patient's families, because they're obviously panicked and incoherent, which makes them not fun to deal with. In fact, he tends to avoid patients in general, so these few simple lines point out this characteristic in a way that no English sentences could, at least not so clearly. And that's the beauty of language references. Yes, they can be hard to understand, but they tell us things about the characters that would be really hard to convey otherwise.
The next one that comes to mind wasn't spoken by House, but does add an element of humor as well as subtle character investigation.
House: Super. In three months when you need a refill, take a bus to a free clinic. Don't wait around hoping for mom to get another sniffle. (Turns to the mother). Not the sharpest chopstick in the drawer, is she?
Mandarin Woman: Nali, Nali.
( ) Knowing a little Mandarin myself, I can say that "Nali, Nali" means "You flatter me." (It's a polite reply to a compliment.)
But knowing what it means, now, doesn't make it any funnier. Sorry. Maybe watching the Youtube video might do it, but somehow I doubt it. Jokes just aren't funny after they're explained, at least, not usually. But it had my dad and I almost falling off our chairs.
So what does this tell us about our character? This scene sort of "foreshadows" what's coming next. There's a lot of subtle subtext going on there. First of all, House is sending the message that, "Duh, kid, this isn't going to work." Second of all, he's saying, "OK, fine, you can make your own mistakes, but don't come crying to me later."
Well, what do you know, the kid does come crying later, claiming that House prescribed the wrong pills. Which, obviously, our acerbic doctor isn't going to take, because that means more conflict. It's much easier to give the kid a taste of her own medicine and claim that she's pregnant, then subtly escape out of the room.
So what does this tell us about our character? It tells us that this is a character who will stand up for himself when he is in the right, but who also avoids conflict whenever possible. There's a constant contradiction that runs in that sort of personality, which makes the character interesting.
Finally, we have another example in Season 4. (There are others, but for the sake of time, let's stick with these three.) We are presented with a Jewish episode with a lot of conflict between House and Amber fighting over Wilson. 
(Funny then and somewhat painful now that Amber's dead. 
)
Taken (no, borrowed, borrowed is a better term ) from a Livejournal transcript:
[Wilson's Office. Night. At his desk, Wilson buttons his sleeve, when the door opens. House stands at the door-jamb.]
GREG HOUSE: [sucks in air] I've decided you could do worse than a female proxy for me.
[His message given, he closes the door and walks off. Wilson stands transfixed.]
CUT TO:
[PPTH Lobby. Day. The elevator door opens and House, on his way out, limps towards the door. Behind him, Wilson comes bounding down the stairs.]
JAMES WILSON: So you're going to acknowledge that people can change?
GREG HOUSE: No.
JAMES WILSON: You think I've changed or Amber's changed?
GREG HOUSE: Nope.
[House stops at the Nurse Station to look at something.]
JAMES WILSON: [pointing at House] Then you've changed.
GREG HOUSE: If you do change, can it be the part of you that chases me down halls, trying to change me?
[House resumes walking, Wilson accompanying him.]
JAMES WILSON: [flabbergasted] Do you know what this means?
GREG HOUSE: That you made one good dating choice. The fabric of the space/time continuum could unravel.
[House and Wilson walk out the hospital doors into the cold night. They stand outside.]
JAMES WILSON: My world could expand. I could form a long-term connection that isn't with you. And since you put the darkest possible construction on everything, you could end up losing a friend. You've thought of all this.
[House doesn't answer.]
JAMES WILSON: And yet you're going along with it. [shivers a bit] Are you being... self-sacrificing?
GREG HOUSE: I'll sacrifice... a lab rat. I'll sacrifice a fly. I'll sacrifice two hundred on a mudder at Monmouth Park. I don't sacrifice self.
[Wilson nods.]
GREG HOUSE: Shabbat Shalom, Wilson.
[He walks off.]
JAMES WILSON: Shabbat Shalom, House.
[With a wide smile, Wilson turns to walk back inside.]
Hmm. Shabbat Shalom. What in the world does that mean? Well, actually, it means "Good Sabbath." (Thank goodness for Google. ) In Jewish, obviously.
Somewhat odd that an atheistic character would wish a friend a good sabbath, isn't it?
So what does this tell us? That it's Saturday, for one, and that House has a massive amount of trivia crammed in his head.
Also that Wilson is probably an inactive Jew, since he's not technically supposed to work on Saturdays. (But, hey, correct me if I'm wrong. I'm not going to go through every article about Jewish sabbaths on the web.)
Random unrelated fact: the 'internet' is the hardware. The WWW is what you surf.
But there's got to be some sort of explanation for our atheistic character doing this, doesn't there? Maybe it's a sign of respect. Maybe it's saying, "I don't always hamper you on religion, and I won't constantly bug you about Amber either. But that doesn't mean I won't challenge you every so often." Who knows?
On to Holmes references before you sew me for mental distress.
"And I," said Holmes, "shall see what I can learn from Mrs. Bernstone and from the Indian servant, who, Mr. Thaddeus tells me, sleeps in the next garret. Then I shall study the great Jones's methods and listen to his not too delicate sarcasms.
"'Wir sind gewohnt dass die Menschen verhohnen was sie nicht verstehen.'
"Goethe is always pithy."
"Wir sind gewohnt dass die Menschen verhohnen was sie nicht verstehen:"
We are accustomed to those who scoff at what they do not understand.
Context: Holmes and Watson have just endured a rather lengthy (and inaccurate) description of Athelney Jones' thoughts on a crime they are investigating.
Here we see Holmes' frustration with Jones arresting everyone in the house for no logical reason and refusing to take his methods seriously. Holmes seems to quote a lot from Goethe, remarking that he is to the point, and he is also well up on his literature. He also takes a stab at Jones, saying he "shall study his great methods," as if he is the student and Jones is the teacher. This reveals a subtle character weakness: Holmes' impatience with ignorance.
"…See here, Captain Crocker, we'll do this in due form of law. You are the prisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, and I never met a man who was more eminently fitted to represent one. I am the judge. Now, gentleman of the jury, you have heard the evidence. Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?"
"Not guilty, my lord," said I.
"Vox populi, vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Crocker. So long as the law does not find some other victim you are safe from me. Come back to this lady in a year, and may her future and yours justify us in the judgment which we have pronounced this night!"
"Vox populi, vox dei."
The voice of the people is the voice of God.
Context: Holmes has just listened to the story of one 'Captian Crocker.' As on other occasions, he has decided that the man's actions do not justify turning him over to the law. Of course, he finds the most dramatized way of expressing this. And of course, we love it.
"…If the case has had no other effect, it, at least, brings out in the most striking manner the efficiency of our detective police force, and will serve as a lesson to all foreigners that they will do wisely to settle their feuds at home, and not to carry them on to British soil. It is an open secret that the credit of this smart capture belongs entirely to the well-known Scotland Yard officials, Messrs. Lestrade and Gregson. The man was apprehended, it appears, in the rooms of a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who has himself, as an amateur, shown some talent in the detective line and who, with such instructors, may hope in time to attain to some degree of their skill. It is expected that a testimonial of some sort will be presented to the two officers as a fitting recognition of their services."
"Didn't I tell you so when we started?" cried Sherlock Holmes with a laugh. "That's the result of all our Study in Scarlet: to get them a testimonial!"
"Never mind," I answered; "I have all the facts in my journal, and the public shall know them. In the meantime you must make yourself contented by the consciousness of success, like the Roman miser--
"Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo
Ipse domi simul ac nummos contemplar in arca."
The public hisses at me, but I applaud myself in my own house, and simultaneously contemplate the money in my chest.
Context: An odd case: here, we find Watson comforting Holmes in his own language, figuratively speaking. Kind of like Wilson limping around with House…
And one final one, because I've just pasted this into a Word document and it's
currently six pages long. (*looks sheepish*). "Strange," said I, "how terms of what in another man I should call laziness alternate with your fits of splendid energy and vigour."
"Yes," he answered, "there are in me the makings of a very fine loafer, and also of a pretty spry sort of a fellow. I often think of those lines of old Goethe:
"Schade, daß die Natur nur einen Mensch aus dir schuf, Denn zum würdigen Mann war und zum Schelmen der Stoff."
Nature, alas, made only one being of you, Although there was material for a good man and a rouge.
Context: I'll let you figure that one out.
-Signing off.