So, as my wise father told me, being an old fart has its rewards: you only vaguely hear of the newest hot-shit-that's-just-shit and are spared the problem of despising it, or the youth who listen/watch/read it.

The greatest strength of this band can be seen in the unusual amounts of pussianity and flat-footedness in the slurring here at AVC. 
Generally, I get regular laughs from the wild-'n-crazy mob here, whatever I think of the band, but not one funny yet, at least by the leg-lifting dawgs here.

Two bad choices: Brazil and In the Realm of the Senses, but those were with my friend's girlfriends, so I had no real plans for doing anything romantic anyway.

Despite the horror of their conception, the Monkees really were pretty god, and the TV show was something special for a kid like me to watch on Saturday mornings - a veritable gateway drug to weirdnesses of more profound kinds.

"Ellington realizes the Howling Man…"

I'm a huge fan of lots of Stat work, but the problem has become that the discussion now is ONLY about "value" and talks, literally 98% of the time, about nothing but MONEY.
I don't give the smallest crap Babe Ruth ever took about his salary and its proportional win value.  In fact, the whole basis of WAR has come to be…

I'm not a fan, but it is sad enough news anyway.

I especially go for Haruki Murakami female characters, picking Midori Kobayashi's vunerable kookiness slightly over Naoko's doomed and never-to-be-realized-a-second-time beauty,

As good an argument against the "Christian" "God" as Bin Laden was against Allah.

Simon who?

I dout there is anything more embarrassing to me, as an American, than what my fellow Americans think is biting humor about the French.

The regular editorial failures at AVC are one of the more annoying, if small, flaws this enjoyable site has, so I must laud getting "Just deserts" correct in this one.

May Rod Serling appear beside you, introducing the TZ episode where you, Herman Cain, will receive the lessons you require.  And the twist you have earned.

Stein was the kid who polished Mull's boots with his nose,  So, credit where credit is due.

I had no idea what a "Ben Stein" was, so I checked the dictionary and it had a picture of a badly wiped, dessicated, diseased asshole.

Glad to see other people noticed what I did.  I really do like this film now.

The review of IQ84 is entirely bullshit, actually.  It's a greatly enjoyable novel in translation, and I suspect I will enjoy it much better in Japanese the second time as well.

The movie improves greatly on repeated viewings, but that's a lot to ask the AVC crowd, who really do, despite their many, many charms and often valuable insights, run in a very tight, American pack: even when their opinions are "split," they are split about the flavor of vanilla they prefer as often as they are…

Actually, I'm listening to Book 2 at this moment.  It was weak Murakami in Japanese, and the English loses a bit more, but it's still pulling me along easily. It reminds me of "Hard-Boiled Wonderland…" when its at its most pretentious, but veers near to "Wind-up Bird…" - which I love, despite its now endearing flaws -…

It confused me as a kid that they had to basically smother the little tree Charlie Brown chooses, by filching Snoopy's prizewinning display no less, in order to make it a "proper" Xmas tree.
And the Linus speech bored me even the first time I heard it, which was the year this was first shown on TV, although it doesn't…