Hey, there's no "I" in Diabetes. Well OK, there's one "I" in Diabetes, but that "I" isn't you.

Actually, he was paid to not come up with any more ideas.

Do they call Deacon the Ubber Schvartze?

Well, if I may pontificate briefly, I believe that fiction satisfies an innate human need to comprehend our environments, to be comfortable with the world. But the world, apparently, is an infinitely unknowable, enigmatic mystery which puckishly defies all our feeble attempts to know or tame her, and so we desperately…

I don't judge anybody's worth as a fellow human being simply by his or her personal beliefs, I do, however, condemn religious institutions and the preposterously ridiculous systems of thought which they propagate and enforce.

I was getting all soft and mushy myself but then I flashed on my years working in a local bar/grille and I remembered all the times of having to "escort out" overly drunken alcoholic fools - young and old - and being made to fear for my health and life that the demented souses might have a gun or a knife or even a…

I'm not prepared to rule on this just yet. Lemme see what Nick does about regrowing his mustache and then we'll reconvene.

So, is Coach going to die to be replaced bu a white fool named Woody? That would be… um, something.

The nooks and crannies are his special little songs and his love of picture puzzles.

Why does it take Mr. Erik Adams over 500 imprecise, rambling, repetitive words to make the simple statement that TV sitcoms are artificial, contrived, non spontaneous dramatic illusions, but the good ones are worth watching? Don't the writers here at the AV Club read other more erudite, hi brow literature on media and…

I think I keep responding to the barely concealed Christian Ideology in his musings, which I recoil from instinctually. I have nothing but complete & utter contempt for nearly all theological approaches to life and to their imposition into contemporary art, and so I get extremely impatient with Werner's existential…

You're gonna think I'm just saying this to be a contrarian asshole, but I actually really enjoyed Port of Call. There's something deeply, profoundly corrupt and menacing about that film which that hectic, even annoying camera work beautifully, elegantly, grotesquely exaggerates. It's as though the camera itself is…

You forgot to mention Steel Magnolias. I feel like a prisoner of war whenever that atrocious, despicable, miserable piece of feminine fantasy happens to be on TV and my gal insists on just "catching a few minutes" which of course always turns into 45 minutes or one hour and I soon get up and find something else to do…

Brilliant!!

Just like the time I took a girlfriend on a first date to see The Killing Fields. She swears to God it was strangest date of her life, but I was a very weird person back then. We were together for another 3 years until she realized she was in love with an accountant. Good for her.

Sorry, I confused the name of the film, but I've corrected it. And yes, I was sort of attempting to simulate the ardent verbosity of Herzog. Imitation, after all, is the highest form of flatulence.

My point - dull as it is - is that the poor man insists on superimposing his questionable philosophies upon his astonishingly revealing and revelatory visual "truths." His films' visuals seem to be trying to tell one very compelling, profound story, while his earnest sermons pull in a totally different or reverse…

Werner Herzog is everything great and wonderful about cinema and everything absurd and annoying about cinema. Case in point: His 2007 documentary, Encounters at the End of the World, is a sublimely transcendent visual spectacle of such inspiring, moving, awesome beauty, until Werner chooses to open his gassy mouth and…

I hate to be THAT guy but their 1st two albums were pretty awesome and then they got sooo ironic.

"I choked on my Chuckles*" - Gene Shalit, nearly dead