My most fondly hated memory of the unplugged Layla is a TV ad for that album, and when playing a bit from that song it showed him leaning back in slow-mo and his best guitar face, as if to say, "Behold, the FEEL! He's a FEEL player!" Goddammit I hate Clapton's shit

I didn't even know there were lyrics beyond the song titles. I don't think they really need them. Song title comes in, and the work's done.

One thing I didn't like though - and there were a few things, but this one's sticking out - the payoff to Tony's relationship with the kid. For the most part, I really liked these scenes; there are a lot of ways to screw this up and the movie dodges most of them. But the final payoff…Tony basically says thanks by…

What's this about sex with Rebecca Hall?

I dug it a lot. It came with similar baggage and opportunities as The Dark Knight Rises, and beat it out a bit - with the charms you'd expect, but some surprises as well.

Almost as hot as I am.

Speaking as a guy with adopted sibs - eew.

I'm willing to bet that finding people willing to be in your human centipede in a Human Centipede movie is harder and more expensive than most casting done in this genre.

I've never heard of this guy, but I do recall If Lucy Fell being greeted with a lot of derision.

Unless they'd been turned into salamanders first.

Eh, I guess it is…seems like it's been around forever.

I dunno…post-CSI, it seems like you can show just about anything post-mortem.

"What if *I* wanted to stop the ship?"

Yeah, I'm iffy about the idea of Kickstarter - especially when pitched by well-connected people who should already know how to get money out of real investors - because it asks from you like you're an investor, but rewards you like you're a very buyer-beware customer.

Samsquanch?

As much as Bigfoot doesn't exist, a whole lot of otherwise seemingly functional adults seem to want it to so much that they're willing to give their bullshit detectors a day off in a way they wouldn't with, say, Ogopogo.

That was Six Feet Under. You are thinking of Cop Rock.

I maintain that the image of Jason impaling David Cronenberg is the quintessential image of late-90's horror.

Actually, wait. Stop. You know what? It really didn't. I got into Imogen Heap independently, but found out later she had this other project which had that cool song that was the only thing I really remembered positively about Garden State. Yay!

Eh…it got me into Imogen Heap.