"No Love Lost" indeed.

Wheaton.  Wil Wheaton.

Wheaton.  Wil Wheaton.

You inevitably jizz all over your copy until you need a new one, too?

You inevitably jizz all over your copy until you need a new one, too?

What Nathan's telling us is that this is an autobiography.

What Nathan's telling us is that this is an autobiography.

This is worth it just to have two HBO patriarchs (Gandolfini & Jenkins) together at last.

This is worth it just to have two HBO patriarchs (Gandolfini & Jenkins) together at last.

It takes some balls to oppose gay marriage and still perform in musical theater.

It takes some balls to oppose gay marriage and still perform in musical theater.

It's interesting that there's sort of a through line between Herzog's depiction of nature versus Malick's; I don't necessarily feel like Malick takes a blissful perspective (despite the lingering beauty of his individual shots), but that his films focus on a level so macro that everything ultimately is neutral — yet…

It's interesting that there's sort of a through line between Herzog's depiction of nature versus Malick's; I don't necessarily feel like Malick takes a blissful perspective (despite the lingering beauty of his individual shots), but that his films focus on a level so macro that everything ultimately is neutral — yet…

Be thankful the majority is written with self-conscious wit.  If you want "I'm gonna beat off" comments, there's always Ain't It Cool News, where you're lucky if a headline ends with only one exclamation mark.

Be thankful the majority is written with self-conscious wit.  If you want "I'm gonna beat off" comments, there's always Ain't It Cool News, where you're lucky if a headline ends with only one exclamation mark.

Well I always got a good pull out of Dollhouse.

Well I always got a good pull out of Dollhouse.

My freshman college crush was all about the Smiths, which rocked my conservative upbrought self (who's sense of rebelling in the early aughts was listening to Pink Floyd and watching nothing but Hitchcock and Ford films).

My freshman college crush was all about the Smiths, which rocked my conservative upbrought self (who's sense of rebelling in the early aughts was listening to Pink Floyd and watching nothing but Hitchcock and Ford films).

So you prefer Klaatu's version over the utter camp bizarrity (yes, a made up word) of the Carpenters?  Taste must applaud, but I'm also deeply fascinated by earnest pop trainwrecks.