I am the chair of the Rabbit Studies Department at Harvard University, an the first-ever Lagomorph Envoy to the United Nations. I speak rabbit fluently. My wife is a rabbit.

"who among them will play the Irishman?"

Squandered potential clearly plays a big role in these worst-of lists, since there are plenty of utterly incompetent films made every year about which you can say very little. In that sense, from the AV Club's perspective, a worst-of list isn't really a worst-of list, but a "movies that went horribly awry" list.

Conqueror.

Sleigh Bells, yes. Also, I happened to like the new New Pornographers album.

Huh. I didn't really know Assange had a shtick to parody. All I know about the man himself is that he seems to do a lot of posing with an envelope that says "WIKILEAKS" on it. That, and the rape charges.

Let's get a ruling from William Safire.

You know what's really fucking tiresome? Anyone who uses the word "hipster" for any reason at all, ever.

There's room in America's twelve-year-old heart for one genuinely talented pop parodist, and Weird Al is That One. It helps that he doesn't just do parodies, though. Some of his best songs are Weird Al originals, and his polka medleys are a whole other type of awesome.

Write about the rich. Write about the poor. Who gives a fuck? Just don't write badly.

It's a win / win for any kind of writer when his material is adapted for film or TV. If the adaptation sucks ass, his readers will blame Hollywood. If the adaptation is awesome, it must be because the source material was awesome in the first place. Meanwhile the formerly poor and struggling writer gets to pay off his…

Carmen Sandiego.

Whether you know it or not, you're trying to get us all to remember the girl with a pickle phobia. And Maury had his staff bring out plate after plate heaped with pickles, while the girl first tried to run offstage, and then she just cowered and whimpered.

Doesn't Maury do all the deformed children episodes?

I've heard that ballet dancers are quite slender.

I thought Rabin was ZMF.

Difference is, Ferrell is going to be dragged kicking and screaming into unhilarity. If he scored an art talk at the 92nd Street Y, he'd be sweating and shouting and jiggling his belly flab within about 15 minutes.

The quality of loathsomeness goes like this, in descending order:

David O. Russell could do a good Pynchon adaptation, I think.

Robert Downey, Jr is NOT how I imagined Sportello. Maybe my picture of him was spoiled by The Big Lebowski, though.