I keep coming back to this thread, and maybe it’s because this is an outlet to process the trauma, whether we can bear to watch the documentary coverage or not. I certainly won’t forget, but I can understand the need for the historical record, I guess, to impress it upon subsequent generations, and to trace the…

I cautiously...recommend? that word isn’t really right...the book “Here is New York: A Democracy of Photographs,” which grew out of a storefront exhibit in Manhattan in the days after 9/11, where people just hung up physical prints of their photos, professional or random snapshots, of the towers and the city before,…

Yeah, I graduated college into a recession in ‘92, which seemed gloomy at the time...but I can only pity the Kids Today and hope they’ll at least feed me occasionally at the old retirement castle.

And there is a gift shop. I can’t say I partook, as my actual living memories are plentiful and can’t be represented in a…

I’ve been to the September 11 Museum in New York; it was kind of a horrific privilege, in that the place is as moving and tasteful and absolutely devastating as you could expect, and I’m grateful to have seen it and never want to go again. But my most vivid memory of the museum itself is of a section where footage of…

Just popping in to say I had this on a K-Tel-esque “Novelty Gold Hits” album as a kid, and have not thought of it in probably 40+ years, so...thanks. I guess?

Additional evidence of my age is that I couldn’t see a goddamn thing in most of the cave sequences. Somebody turn on a light!

I don’t know how they do it, but both Bell and Danson open up those evil cackles to reveal what seem to be EXTRA TEETH in that instant. Like a fair dozen more than humans typically have. They’re performing their own special effect, no CGI needed. Damn geniuses.

I buy white chocolate just so it makes it to the trick-or-treaters, rather than my ample ass. 

So I’m not sure why she’s not grown up enough to understand that.

Not mine, but one of the greatest things I ever witnessed: it was the peak of Christmas shopping season, and my mom, sis and I hit the local mall. After some cutthroat shopping, we met at a coffee stand somewhere in the middle to recover a bit, and somehow found an open table in the melee.

A kid maybe 11 or 12, at the…

I loved S1 madly, and so am struggling to temper my disappointment with “Infamy” thus far. If anything, rather than clamoring for the monster, I want this thing to slow down MORE. The story of the internment is so rich and morally repugnant already, there’s plenty of horror to go around even without a scary demon…

I’ll admit to having this as a very abstract goal when I was 10 or 12, though I pinned it vaguely to some accomplishment or other: I would write a magnificent novel! Or win an Olympic gold medal in figure skating! Or be plucked from understudy obscurity to perform the lead in a play that, I hasten to note, I was not…

Nice. I sent my sister one for her Not!UAM graduation a couple years ago. She was mystified at first, and her eventual scream of comprehension remains one of the highlights of our entire relationship. :D

Jason’s achievement--doing a dirt-bike wheelie through an entire Waffle House--was the one that I kept repeating to myself to remember. A beautiful sentence pileup of Florida garbage. 

When I lived in a third-floor walkup, I’d usually buzz the delivery person in and meet them halfway, on the landing. But I’m realizing now that this was before Uber Eats, Postmates, or smartphones, so I might as well have been accepting pizzas or potstickers delivered by horse and buggy. 

In thinking about it a bit, I’m realizing that the montage #2 served a completely different purpose than (beautiful, heartrending) montage #1. The Jimmy/Kim montage marked time and showed their lives diverging. The Germans’ montage showed the tedious sameness of their days, month after month, digging a hole, stuck…

I saw the stage production of “War Horse”—went in ready to roll my eyes, and then broke down and sobbed like a little child through the climax and all the way back to the car. So the idea of a stage production of Pullman both thrills me and makes me anticipate being a weeping wreck. Y...aaay?
I hope the BBC production…

“I see your boy doesn’t like pickles.” One of my favorite sketches of all time, too.
When Obama was first elected and we were all berserk with hope, a friend texted me: “And maybe now Tina Fey can resurrect Phil Hartman and cast him on 3o Rock.” And I legit gasped and burst into tears at the idea—what they could have…

I whisper-gasped WHAT THE FUCK at that second tumbling pass, out loud at work, so this checks out. 

DJ Riz has torn my heart in half three separate times already, just with his in-between patter. No work has been accomplished by me, today. 

Every single time I see Michelle Yeoh, I imagine a thought balloon over her head: “ALSO I JUMPED A MOTORCYCLE ONTO THE TOP OF A MOVING TRAIN, BITCHES.” I mean, I’d put that on every resume ever, regardless of role/job/circumstance. She is THE SHIT and I love her.