Once upon a time, DC Comics established Superman's birthday as Feb. 29th. That,
it was explained with tongue securely in cheek, accounted for why he still looked so young despite having been around since 1938.
Two bits of good news to celebrate:
To my surprise, Fox has become the network with the most shows I follow.
I’m prone to letting episodes pile up, hence my choice of words. And I don’t even
watch House or — check your disbelief — The Simpsons.
On Mondays it’s 24. Tuesdays have Fringe, which I'd like to write about soon; Thurs-days have the underrated Bones, as much a successor to The X-Files as is Fringe despite its lack of sci-fi elements. On Fridays it’s the new Dollhouse. Once Mondays but now Fridays we have Terminator spinoff The Sarah Connor Chronicles, which I arguably shouldn’t count since I’m so behind this season that episodes I want aren’t online anymore.
My grandfather doesn't get excited about food much anymore. If he does, he's most often soon disappointed. And while my grandmother points out anytime a meal is underwhelming that she doesn't live to eat, but eats to live, I can't help but recall how we kids used to get awakened practically every morning during a visit to their condo in Florida with, "You'd better get up if you want some good sun! Where should we have dinner tonight?"
Dinner usually involved trying to make an early-bird special. They might fit a stereo-type in that regard, but as far as I'm concerned if you grew up struggling through the Great Depression, have made a comfortable living, and can mingle your enjoyments of
a good meal, a good deal, and family, you're more than entitled to that satisfaction.
Grandmom does love her ice cream, though.
I'm not alone in being driven to enjoyable distraction by ABC's Lost.
Even though the show has seen ratings drop considerably over the last few years, its die-hard fans are more committed than Hurley. (Mental-hospital pun; I think he'd approve.) You can still find viewers like my mother, tuning in purely for the wild television entertainment week after week — or waiting month after month, since Lost switched over to a no-repeat season that runs from January to May and goes dark the rest of the year. You'll also find viewers who suffuse cyberspace, reading and often participating in discussions that dissect and speculate upon every nuance of each episode, the DVD extras, pronouncements from the show's producers to journalists and Comic-Con audiences, interactive multimedia games, etc. You might even find other viewers like me, who are somewhere in-between.
I had a pretty good run going in The Late Show with David Letterman’s online Top Ten contest a few years back.
A mousepad was then the standard prize. When contacted for my mailing address
after my third win, I asked if I could perhaps get a T-shirt instead. Hanging proudly in my closet is a misprint whose logo extends from not far past my sternum on the right
to somewhere under my left armpit.
I began playing again several months ago but victory has been elusive. You can play, too, submitting all the individual entries you care to based on the week’s category. I usually send in at least a half-dozen, brainstorming as many as I can that I really like along with the sort I think the folks behind the contest will go for based on the tone of past winners or running Late Show gags. Once the week is up, ten winning submissions are chosen. They don’t get read on the show, keep in mind, simply posted on the web-site. Nowadays a T-shirt is the official prize, and presumably not a factory reject either.
Kindred Posts: All @Twitter • Low and Inside • Ch-Ch-Changes • Feed Me Rewrite! • Exile in Jayville
Coraline movie still © 2009 Laika Entertainment.
Friday the 13th — I'd say that's an appropriate day to talk about Coraline.
The movie, directed and written for the screen by Henry Selick, is infectious, and certain set pieces are spectacular. Depending on how audiences react to the darker aspects, it's sure to become either a cult or mass favorite. But very early on I got that familiar twinge of kinda wishing I hadn't read the book.
Written by Neil Gaiman, and the winner of a Hugo among other awards given to science-fiction, horror, or fantasy works, Coraline the book was good. The "problem" is that, as prose fiction will do, it calls heavily upon the reader's imagination to illustrate Coraline's worlds, aided — this part is key — by Dave McKean's cover and occasional black-&-white interior art. Gaiman and McKean broke into the American comics market together over 20 years ago with Black Orchid for DC, and McKean produced covers for Gaiman's landmark series The Sandman.
EW.com is holding an Oscars poetry contest.
You're supposed to be able to enter via the PopWatch blog, where you can also read
the poem from a 16-year-old reader that launched the challenge, but as of yet there isn't a link for that. I sent in the following by E-mail.
A Free Verse
On the Oscars
Hi. I'm Blam. Welcome to my blog.
I still haven't solved the problems mentioned in my actual first post, but I'd like to
begin rolling out more content, so it's time for a proper introduction.
The name "Blam"? I was signing my art "B. Lamken" way back in 7th grade when a good friend took to calling me "Blamken". It caught on big (even with teachers), sticking through college and beyond, eventually getting cropped simply to "Blam". No similarity to the sound effect made by guns and bombs in comics intended or implied. You can totally call me "Brian" if you prefer, or "Mr. Lamken" if you want something.