I started listening to "The Eleventh Hour". The party laughing in delight when they figure out they're in a time loop is one of my favorite parts of the whole podcast so far.

But who will play the sax? Have they been getting paid all these years for their pay-or-play contracts? Do they have to replace the bologna in their slacks regularly?

Like this?

More like Lyin' King!

Not that it mattered much (beyond explaining the style of some of the humor), but the whole conceit of the original was that the Warner brothers and their sister had been locked up in the studio water tower since the 1930s. No reason they can't come back after awhile away.

I watched Black Orpheus. It's kind of a controversial movie (thanks Obama!) and I can understand the unease with the sort of tourist-eye view of idealized poverty it presents. I think the problems might be ameliorated a little by the mythic story and, intriguingly, as the film embraces the mythic, unreal side of the…

Oh good. There's an argument about Bernie Sanders on a UKS review.

I tend to forget about it for a few months and then go back and cherrypick the ones that sound the most interesting.

I've also been listening to this archive of Bob Dylan's Theme Time Radio Hour, but that probably doesn't really count as a podcast.

https://c1.staticflickr.com…

I occasionally listen to: My Brother, My Brother, and Me; The Adventure Zone (by the same brothers with their dad); In Our Time (depending on subject); Arsecast; and I've just recently started The Handsome Rambler (Hannibal Buress).

He can't go for that! No. No can do.

Holding was good, but I was really pleased for Mertesacker and impressed with how he played, especially given the tough season he's had.

A climacteric year?

*Insert (Bacon?) quote about some books being meant to be chewed and digested, instead of tasted – which is, I think, more about different books rewarding different ways of reading, not the truism that some books are better than others.*

"Time has tapped me on the shoulder and said, 'You can no longer enjoy the smell of the grass, the sun on your face as you bear down on the opposition's goal, the adrenaline consuming you, the joy of celebrating.' It's not easy to turn out the light. I'm afraid. It's not the same fear you feel when you're standing in…

Alright. I'm about to go to bed and read (probably The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana by Umberto Eco, but I might go for something non-fiction instead). Pretty exciting stuff.

Thank you for your service.

Not to mention all the "Que, Linda?/Que linda!" jokes people could make if she ever took Spanish.

He's the hawk-eye and Holding does his running for him.