Judging by the pacifiers and pigtails of my memory, they don't usually have warriors, either.

George Miller is old, I'd guess is what's up with that.

I won't lie. I just wept a bit. I'm thinking over all this man's gifts to us, which I've long loved, and seeing for the first time the total expansive extent of how eclectic and unpredictable and wonderful they really were. What a total treasure. All our love to your family, Mr. Demme. We join them in missing you like…

People all loved it. Timberlake is a fantastic performer and as soulful a guy as you could ever fairly hope for in pop extravaganza. Count, do you ever fucking let up or have balanced things to say? Am I just always catching you on bad days?

Some other time, I'd like to hear more on your read of SotL.

Better get that shit taken care of. They get too bold, they'll chew the tildes right off your vowels.

Really dark moles involve charring the seeds from dried chiles until they're ash and tossing that in with the other 4,398 mole ingredients.

Quite. You can't trust the new friends because you never know if they just want your glow, and the old friends can't trust you because of (enter any number of ways your glow has queered things).

They pronounce it that way. My sense is that in Britain and Australia 'quay' is still the word for a wharf or boat promontory. Anyone?

Delightful. Thank you. (In case anyone's not up on this part, from 1066 until the Wars of the Roses, Normans ran England and pumped a shit-ton of French into the language. It didn't so much borrow as adapt and hide; French was the official court and business language for three centuries. If this is universal…

I've always felt that 'cay' and 'quay' were two words we could've done better with differentiating.

People I've watched go through it also say the converse about themselves: that they despair of ever making another friend they can trust after they become famous.

I find you guys' dismissal of this film as derivative to be…derivative. Pines had different DNA, where people and families in the spotlight are only fractured, struggling (mostly in vain) to connect, show love, find a path forward, mend their conscience. The Coen Brothers mostly live in a different universe entirely,…

If that's bad I never want to be good. I loved it. Also, I am anti-meh when it comes to…anything, really, but especially cycles of poverty, brotherhood, friendship, the things that make a land both intensely inspiring and brutally difficult to live in, and saucy waitresses.

It is a constant problem. Working parallel to this industry, I know a lot of its newer members and have watched them become famous. It's usually pretty dark. The ones troubled by it do things like recruit their friends to bring other normal people—interesting and soulful ones, with theology degrees or nonprofit…

You recognize the surname, right?

It still feels weird that we'll have no Black Widow movie. I know plenty of ink…uh, pixels…done been spilt on the subject already. But damn. I had to run screaming from Lady Murderer Genius or whatever that Luc Besson bullshit was, but I can't go see a whole movie of Black Widow rocking that queasy, psychologically…

Madcap
Longshot
Ditto on fucking Mojo
and of course
SLYDE.

This seems like an excellent time to correct for comics' bad habits and embrace time. Iron Man gets old. Steve Rogers stays sad and retires. The Hulk has to be spaced. New blood takes over in a changing world.

I lived my entire life never knowing what Perfect Strangers was. And now this.