(Note: This originally appeared at TheNerdyBomb website and is reprinted here with permission. Also, you should read TheNerdyBomb daily. Thanks!)
I am a Terminator.
More accurately, I am part-Terminator.
OK, most accurately, I am part-Robocop, given that I’m less of a from-the-future cyborg assassin and more of a his-body-is-broken-so-let’s-replace-him-with-parts type of guy, but since I’m the one writing this, and since I prefer Terminators, I’m going with that, particular the T-2 type. Continue reading
UPDATED: Dec. 28, 2012
A long time ago (or, actually, two years ago), I would make annual Best Of lists, usually for movies and music, and I loved doing it. I always wanted to include TV shows and books, but I often found myself unable to list 10, and since all good lists come in groups of 10, I would leave them off and be done with it.
Last year, though, I opted for an overarching list that included all things I loved about the year, so I’m now thinking that’s the way to go. Oddly enough, this year, I had a hard time narrowing my TV shows down to 10 – we really are in an amazing era of quality TV. Note: These aren’t necessarily listed in order of favorites or quality.
So, I give you The 2012 List of So … There I Was’ Favorite Things
It feels a bit odd to be heading into the first weekend of August and not be heading up to Chicago.
After five straight years of attending Lollapalooza, this marks the second year in a row I’ve missed out on the madness, and to be honest, I might not go back again. Between an increase in costs (tickets, airfare, hotels) and a decrease in bands I want to see, the better option appears to be to stick with five great years of memories (most of which it seems involved strangers asking me for drugs; the strongest thing I ever had was ibuprofen).
I love lists.
Maybe it’s a bit of an OCD thing, maybe it’s a boy thing, maybe it’s just a love for talking about things that can be listed. Whatever the reason, lists fascinate me.
Homer Simpson is no doubt very happy today.
It is, after all, National Donut Day.
Bruce Springsteen’s more overtly political albums tend to have a quieter feel, as though the music couldn’t match the vitriol of the lyrics. In albums like Nebraska and The Ghost of Tom Joad, Springsteen mostly armed himself with an acoustic guitar and a harmonica, painting stories of bleakness in which the promise of hope was as sparse as the music.
I both love and hate the Academy Awards.
I tend to argue that they often get it wrong on the Best Picture winners, but even when they mess up, I find myself drawn to the allure of the award. Movies remain America’s grandest form of popular entertainment, making the Oscars, good or bad, a major draw.