I just picked up Dream River by Bill Callahan and it is absolutely blowing me away.

Speaking of platforming games that were stuck in a weird place somewhere between 2D and 3D, did anyone ever play Bug for the Sega Saturn? I'm sure it's aged absolutely horribly, but it was the first 3D game that I ever saw or played in person, which meant that it absolutely blew my mind, and thus has a special place…

Real men turned off auto-aim. You learned to aim deftly with the C-buttons, or you forsook your right to head shots. Anyone who would attempt to leave on auto-aim was probably also the kind of honorless scum who looked on other people's screens, and were ostracized by the rest of the slumber party.

Also you can't save your game, but maybe if you're lucky we'll give a 50 character password that you'll forget to write down.

I'm not a huge fan of Goldeneye, but I love the follow-up, Perfect Dark, which I think has aged a bit better. They did an HD remaster of the game, but it controls with two analogue sticks, which for me, makes it an entirely different game. I'm probably the only curmudgeon left in the world who thinks that FPS games…

But Huey Lewis thinks he's hip!

Ha. I actually love Invisible Cities.

That made me gag.

Speaking of bizarre fever dreams, I'm fighting some virus right now, and last night I dreamed that I logged into an online dating program, and instead of women, I was matched with historical cities important to the Silk Road. I was upset because I wanted Byzantium and Venice, but they both blocked me. Ctesiphon sent…

It's probably rooted in a passing reference to evil desert spirits in Isaiah 34 where lilit are described as being like screech owls.

Also, we're the ones that actually know how to make bourbon.

And yet, I feel I could easily mock the shit out your attempts to make a proper mint julep.

That's not entirely fair to David Brooks. The other good thing about him is that he's not Ross Douthat.

Even though I got absolutely tired of everyone jumping over themselves to proclaim this article as somehow worse than every other David Brooks article by about 7:45 this morning, I have to say, this was some absolutely prime O'neal, and probably my favorite thing he's done in our post-StarWipe universe.

Wait, is it happening this weekend?

This weekend I'm playing grieve over the death of the family dog we got when I was 13. My dad just texted me half an hour ago that he's gone. I turn 29 next month, and it kind of feels like the last piece of my childhood just died. I'll probably play a bunch of Super Castlevania IV and Diddy Kong Racing, because…

I didn't read a ton of new comics this year, but I thought Matt Kindt's Ether was pretty special.

Featuring Ian Anderson as The Spaniard.

The only story I have comparable to this is that one of my friends, known only as Monotone Pete, was broken up with when his girlfriend started crying in the middle of a Burger King, and when he asked why, she said, "I hate the way you eat."

If fucking Eric Clapton kills Keith Richards, I'm gonna be really pissed.