I loved the bit in Geldof's autobiography where he's talking about how self-indulgent the lyrics are.

Well, someone has to miss that miserable bastard, I guess.

I figure that that's one of the reasons why much if not most of Waters' post-Floyd career has been in staging performances of The Wall with various musicians in various venues. (The other being that Waters really can't write music for shit by himself.)

As someone who loved The Wall—even the sloppy, self-indulgent, navel-gazing bits—I was hugely disappointed to buy The Final Cut, wondering if the Floyd were going to try to top their last effort, and instead got a so-so Roger Waters solo album.

In that respect, British schools are little different from American schools, which (even in the progressive '70s, when you had all sorts of new-wave educational theories being tested out), each school (I went to several) was guaranteed to have its petty, power-tripping tyrant teacher that all the kids were scared of.

For the budget that Green Lantern had, you could probably film the entire Mass Effect trilogy, including hiring a writer to come up with a decent ending.

And by "DC" we probably mean "Geoff Johns." Lots of people were Monday-morning quarterbacking the failure of the film, and one of the main schools of thought was that there are far more people that know Green Lantern as John Stewart—thanks to the Justice League Unlimited cartoon—than Hal Jordan, because the audience…

As with most dumb decisions involving Green Lantern (and, really, much of DC Comics), the answer is "Geoff Johns." I'd like to believe that someone else will have some say in the potential reboot, in which case JOHN STEWART THE ROCK FUCK YEAH.

Griefsex at the wake. Rednecks so out of their minds on sorrow, meth and oxy that they have sex with anyone and anything, resulting in three pregnancies and one very sticky ATV.

At first glance, I thought that the black velvet collar of his jacket was the tail of a mullet. Then I started listening to "Yo Cousin Vinny" and realized that Joe Pesci with a mullet was not the worst thing imaginable, oh no.

The problem is that sex is inherently ridiculous (the positions, the O-faces, the fact that it's mostly done with pee-pees), and ridiculousness is often mistaken for funny.

@avclub-13721622e3398c1f3c2583f0aa52174d:disqus : "Dick in a Box" insta-forgives any number of musical and thespianic sins.

"Hey Jude" was just the dress rehearsal for "Isn't It a Pity." And the copyright owners for "She's So Fine" should have paid Harrison money for improving their song when he rewrote it as "My Sweet Lord".

Don't feel bad—he was going to go up on someone else's nickel (there was some sort of documentary deal, apparently to record him going where no superannuated boy band alumnus had gone before), but it fell through and he had to give his spacesuit back.

Ugh. There's someone who I'd never hoped to read about again.

It's true, we have video evidence. (How sad is it when the guy parodying you on a sketch comedy show is a better dancer?)

I've always thought that most of the songs on Thriller were the same hook repeated ad infinitum; the main exception was "Billie Jean", maybe the best song that MJ ever did (and, interestingly, the song that almost didn't make the album precisely because of its non-formulaic nature).

You really want the right mix of soluble and insoluble fiber. You get the proportions right, it's like a Zamboni for your colon.

The funny thing is that Walter White really starts out seeming like Hal on a Very Special Episode of MitM (hapless, kind of emasculated dad who finds out that he has cancer), and instead of some wacky scheme to raise money for the kids' college fund that snowballs into disaster and ends up with Hal finding out that…

Yes please! (Speaking of plausible American accents, I played Mass Effect 2 before watching Chuck, and if I'd closed my eyes I couldn't have told that it was the same actress.)