I have the name of another Death Eater: BARTY CROUCH! . . . Junior.

Alexander Doniphan was an underrated historical personage. Not only did he stop the quasi-judicial murder of Joseph Smith, but he also defended Smith and his followers in court, which risked his own life. He later became the US's most skillful general, albeit in the land grab known as the Mexican War, wrote New…

Slaughter, Rinse, Repeat.

My Pal Pol

You like me on Facebook! You really like me on Facebook!

She's Dolores Umbridge 2.0, in maniacally self-satisfied and clench-jawed service to He-Who-Should-Not-Have-Been-Elected. She'd give anything to be able to carve the words "I must not print fake news" into a reporter's forearm with a sharp quill pen.

They've shipped Dali's corpse to the set of the Maury Povich Show for the final DNA announcement.

I'm a sucker for 50's rock and roll sax solos, and the joyful stuttering solo in the Del-Vikings' "Come Go With Me" is one of the very best.

He puts his pants on just like the rest of you — one leg at a time. Except, once his pants are on, he makes gold records.

That was easily my first choice too. That solo is so freaking intense and intricate, and makes the song a complete classic. I attended a panel showing of "Monterey Pop" with Eric Burdon there, and as a bonus, they showed the proto-video of the song made by the Animals for "Pop Gear" where you can see Alan Price,…

I was going to mention that sax solo in Sh-Boom too. That ascending intro is so stylish, and the whole thing just so perfectly matches the elegance of the vocals.

My TiVo isn't working; guess I'll just daguerreotype the series.

That copy of Infinite Jest is barely singed. Turn it up to 551, rookie!

Now all OJ has to do is find a big hayfield up near Buxton. It's got a long rock wall with a big oak tree at the north end. At the base of that wall, he'll find a rock that has no earthly business in a Maine hayfield. Piece of black, volcanic glass.

Tim Meadows captured that perfectly on SNL. One of my all-time favorite SNL cast impressions.

Oliver Stonehenge was built by aliens with the help of the CIA.

I love Eddie Izzard's bit about the workers who had to drag the stones great distances to the building site:

That tended to understate the hugeness of the object.

Wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe.

The problem with capers are, like pickle relish and Miracle Whip, they leave their foul taste behind even after you scrub your entree like it's going into pre-op.