Better luck in moving to Maine. In Colorado, everyone's got that cloud now, it's harder to develop a real distinguishable, signature cloud.

And if you aren't going to listen to me tell you so, I'll just shout you down. Cuz temperament.

Yeah, I don't understand why people keep responding as if this is the entirety of your music collection, as opposed to just the shit you have on cd on a specific shelf. Which you keep restating.

Huh. I always assumed Tapes n Tapes were from Boston, but I guess that's just cuz they name check Harvard Square in "Insistor." Plus, they get it right when they say it holds all inane.

I suppose I don't wholly disagree, but there's also some high social commentary in there that elevates the soap opera material beyond its origins. Like a lot of Dickens, it suffers from the publishing model at the time, the serial publications, the pay-by-the-word contracts.

In the context of the narrative, it's not the fact that she's a woman that makes her a "bitch," it's her position of power, which renders even her best of intentions oppressive. The story is a near-perfect representation of institutionalized oppression (no pun intended). While the characters lay blame at Ratched's…

Are you implying that Great Expectations is a junk book?

To be fair, No Country was pretty much written to be turned into a movie, so the book has a half-baked, unrealized potential quality to it.

Mila Kunish sounds like the name of a pastry.

To be fair, the government actually was after him. To be even more fair, LSD has a tendency to inspire paranoid fantasies.

The Pranksters were a group of people dedicated to disseminating acid amongst the population, and they flirted with borderline domestic terrorism a lot of the time to do so. They were self-aware and somewhat deliberate, or as deliberate as a group of people under the constant say of a powerful hallucinogen could be.…

That creates influence within the subreddits, probably, but that's not the same thing as creating voters.

"Even Max would admit?" I think he'd gleefully trot that out, what with all the shitty presumptive judgment and the implication that liking him is a status thing.

I don't know that you could chortle silently. I think you're head might explode from the pressure.

The thing about zines is that anybody can make them. Got a shitty printer running low on ink? Got a stapler that always seems to bend one end of the staple backwards? How about some grainy art that might be a swat team behind riot shields, might be a picture of your grandmother eating a cracker?

And just because I like focusing on particulars, I'm not sure that Badlands counts as a period piece. Sure, it was set in 59 and released in 73, but the time of the setting isn't especially crucial to the narrative. It's not ABOUT 1959, per se, not in the way that LA Confidential is ABOUT mid-century LA.

I'd damn sure eat those Skittles if I had a reliable means of testing each one of them before I put them in my mouth.

I think this is a great response that articulates a great many of the nuances implicit in the situation. I'd like to note here, though, that we're talking about people whose job it is to step into characters they don't necessarily understand form their lives outside of acting. The range here runs from a person who has…

Black lips >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> any of this shit.

Grief makes otherwise sane people do crazy things, like grasp at the straws of elaborate schemes that allow them to blame someone for their grief. Anything to avoid having to confront the fact that the world is an amoral, destructive place.