"Hey Veena, you know what would really put your show over the top, I mean beyond the red herrings people can't get enough of? No closure at the end of the season! I know, I know, but you can trust the Weiner. Seriously, just think about it."

Jason Alexander has a really lost weight. Good for him.

Obsessing about maple syrup is one of those awesome things in that the second you realize "wow, you're actually serious - there's no punchline coming" is the same as when you realize "no conversation with you will ever ultimately prove to be of any value."

When what they're told always boils down to "Your prejudices and knee-jerk reactions are actually 100% correct, you smart, sexy thang" what else do you expect?

I assume you'd be issued kneepads and snakebite kits at the entrance.

But done in a dickish way, so the meta-lesson is "Tough many dicks… or not enough?" And of course the only sane answer is "many, many more dicks." I mean, the message never seems to be "just chill out, dude - it ain't no thing" as opposed to "ha-ha, take that suckers" - which is just fighting splooge with splooge.

Utopias always fail because if they didn't, why are we all putting up with all this crap? We need stories of failed ambition to make sure our lack of ambition and tolerance for nonsense and injustice to seem not only tolerable, but, somehow, noble. Chicken soup for the coward, as it were.

Most of what I know of these guys was from Please Kill Me, and man, did they come across as banal, narcissistic assholes. I mean, I sort of assume all successful artists are like that, but you got the feeling that going to a party and having Lou Reed there was cool in principle, but not because you actually had any…

No big deal. Old people always have a good sense of humor about these things.

Eh, if there's a dumptruck of money to be had, and my agent can successfully argue that it'd be way, way smaller without me, I'm gonna get as much of it as I can. Or would you rather it go to the hooker-and-blow budgets of the production companies and networks? Though granted, those are the kinds of people in this…

I guess, but "they're all wrong (but I won't admit to any specifics against my side)" has been a staple of the right-wing talking-point book for so long it's hard not to see that as right-leaning. Not to say there aren't people who hate both parties, but I've just seen so many republicans who, when cornered with…

I always get her mixed up with Amanda Pays. Who also has no future in broadcast television.

"Songs inspired by" are the best, as they can't even find an excuse to play them over the end credits (much less shoehorn them into the movie), but somehow are supposed to be part of the film. I need my official film-stamp of approval before I like something - what if I'm wrong!?!

So it's like the female version of teenage boys who like "tough" girls who kick ass and talk like guys and are into sports and stuff. You've reached that point where you feel an attraction to the opposite sex, but it's still pretty scary, so all you really want is them to be "officially" not-my-gender, but not really…

Yeah. Now that it's clear AMC has no idea what it's doing and just got lucky with the finding of MM/BB, they need to stop trying to be HBO's middleclass basic-cable nephew and just go for broke. More hookers! Way more hookers! And maybe some time-travelling robots, a cyborg President Taft and some Kaiser-created CHUDs…

They always win. That's the whole reason that people go into the industry in the first place.

If my middle named was "Safron" and was, like now, male, my life would be defined by an omnidirectional, all-consuming rage. At least I'd like to think so. But I guess purveyor of wincing, twee-for-ugly-people middlebrow crap would be a close second.

I hope they explain more in the show, because I'm struggling to find how "I heard a crazy man say the pres was gonna get whacked and a few hours later, he was!" leads one to a fantastic fortune.

Well, they're the only ones left in this country willing to learn math. Sure, the results can get a little pointless and weird, but soon we'll be taking anything we can get.

We also would have accepted "… but I bet that, along that road, in the most depressing motel imaginable, there's a place where…"