Both shows suffer from Stephen Spielberg's peculiar aesthetic: at bottom, all stories are about mall people hanging at the mall.

This is what we call a Texas Corn Dog.

Stephen King has issues with endings, but he's actually a pretty damn good writer.

The Years of Rice and Salt sucked Moon rocks. After that abomination, Kim Stanley Robinson is no longer on my default buy list. It was like reading a Wes Anderson movie.

Basically, you're trying to talk yourself into being a prude. Or out of being one. It isn't quite clear.

Please.

It's a good thing he still has the monkey toes.

The magic of English is that if you see a word you like, just start using it. If enough people follow your lead, it becomes English. See? You don't need to invent a word. Just start using the ones you've already identified.

I do hope you're able to see the fellatio on the Giger album cover.

I tried to sneak a reference to Jabberwocky ("What I tell you three times is true") into a paper but it got forced out. David Mermin has a fabulous and hilarious essay called "Boojums all the way through" ( in book of the same name) about his efforts to get "boojum" accepted by Physical Review as a legitimate…

Um. Parsecs are not a time unit.

Correction: All too often, police are simply ignorant.

SyFy doesn't want to spend any money on any show without a ghost hunter or a wrestler.

Max Headroom?

You're an idiot.

I don't see it and I've never seen it.

You keep saying "Falwell" when you mean "Bakker."

When I see the words "fiat money," I know what I'm about to see is bullshit.