In the Newsflesh series, zombies are the result of an unfortunate melding of two genetically engineered viruses that ensure the living no longer contract everything from the common cold to cancer but zombify if they die or come in contact with blood or the virus spontaneously amplifies. The books are seriously flawed,…

After I had cataract surgery, I realized I’d now be much more functional during a zomabie apocalypse than when I had my extremely thick glasses. It woould be w, ay easier to find some readers than to get my difficult prescription filled.

Fucking zombies—how do they work?

Those Satanists sure had a damn fine choir.

The Ms. Mead who was torched was the flesh-and-blood model.

I concede that he does an okay job when he’s short-haired and vulnerable. Maybe the long-haired wig exerts a malign influence on his talent.

It was a fun little self-aware bit of fan service.

“Tear jerking” is better.

He’s a presenter now? I know him only as an actor. 

Michael’s real dad loves him, though. That’s got to be a comfort to the boy.

I enjoyed that OMEN reference during the human sacrifice. Then I was rolling my eyes at how easily and cleanly Mr. LaVey yanked out that heart. The blood vessels looked liked they’d been sliced with a scalpel.

“Starving and humiliating the Sanctuary seems stupidly shortsighted.” But it worked so well in Germany post-WWI! 

I find WARLOCK era Julian Sands much more attractive. And, mediocre actor though he was/is, better than the piece of wood playing Michael.

Eve and Villanelle remind me of those crazy kids Luther and Alice.

Her. Or, better, she.

I thought that surprising act of kindness was annoying and out of character.

I can’t think of any cake that would cause food poisoning if microwaved straight from the freezer, but, given the alcohol content of fruitcake, it would be especially safe.

And she would’ve been a great Doctor. 

Yup, that annoyed me. “Oh, no, the pretty psycho killer has stolen my phone and now can find the guy I just left in a safe house. Let me run to my boss’s house to let her know.” Don’t get me wrong--I have no problems with extreme suspension of my disbelief. This just asked me to do a little too much hoisting.

I thought she said “least.” Guess I misheard.