Oof. Remember when Clive Owen was a going concern? I miss those days

I kinda hear you on that. As much as I love Liv, and Liv on brains, they seem to be leaning reaaaal hard into the Occupation Is Your Life, caricature approach to the brains, whereas earlier they'd be more in line with the actual person behind them. But I suppose that makes us killjoys for noticing

You mean, The Fatman?

Alien$. A Jim Cameron Joint.

Somewhere between Comically Gay and Rip Taylor, eh? [CHARLES NELSON REILLY WAGGLES GLASSES SUGGESTIVELY, AUDIENCE HOOTS]

Pardon me, but there's also an ICE PLANET, a WOODSY FORREST PLANET, and LAVA PLANET. Basically, half a Super Mario World.

Where does Charles Nelson Reilly fit onto this spectrum?

Sadly, probably not anymore

Extra-Strength Gay. The kind of gay your pharmacist can't sell you without a note from your doctor

Oh, man I love Dave Wallace. Such a chill cat.

FESTEN, BABY, FESTEN!

This guy gets it.

Oh good, they do get into Sheriff Truman looks different. I had wondered.

BUS LIFE.

"Also, while it appears to be the same song, the drums seem slightly higher in the mix, particularly the cymbals, which is undoubtedly a suggestion that we pay attention to symbols themselves, or perhaps they just wanted a little more rhythm."

Cute, but not really my point. My point is that Shadow Moon is a silly name for a thinly sketched protagonist, particularly one created by an author praised for creativity. When it comes to Gaiman, I'm agnostic: I've read his stuff (Sandman, American Gods, Coraline) and liked it, but never quite saw why people went so…

I don't think anyone's contesting that Moon is a surname. They're contesting the fact that naming your otherwise personality free and nondescript main character "Shadow Moon" is laughable, made moreso by the fact that the author's fans will praise his creativity to the high heavens. It's one step removed from naming a…

What was your reaction when you realized it wasn't?

UNIVERSAL UNIVERSE WAS RIGHT THERE, GUYS. C'MON.

The only unbelievable thing about this article is the idea that the AV Club has a copy desk. I imagine it off to the side of the main office, in a dark and cobweb-strewn corner, manned entirely by skeletons slumped over old Smith-Corona typewriters.