On the Shoulders of Gaiman

Remember when Neil Gaiman wasn’t cool? Me neither. Continue reading


Bowlin’ in the Deep

There are many leagues in the world. There’s the one for Nations, the one for Justice, the one for Red Headed dudes, the one for Extraordinary Gentlemen (and insufferable movie adaptations), and the 20,000 that are under the sea. Those are all fine, I guess, but they will forever live in the shadow of the King of All Leagues—the bowling league. Continue reading

My So-Called Lifelong Crush On Claire Danes: A 90s Odyssey Part Deux

Claire Danes. Where do I begin? I mean that rhetorically, of course, because I know exactly where to begin: 1994.

What I pretty much saw every time I closed my eyes from 1994 to...a long time after 1994.

What I pretty much saw every time I closed my eyes from 1994 to…a long time after 1994.

Maybe it was the hair, dyed unnaturally but beautifully to the color an October leaf. Maybe it was the pouting lips that smiled and cried expertly. Maybe it was the flannel thrown around a young waist with all the carefully staged haphazard abandon of grunge. Maybe it was the fact that I was a loser prone to crushing on girls from afar, and I recognized some of that in Angela, the lovely protagonist of My So-Called Life, probably the finest TV show ever to be killed before its time.

Maybe it was my so-called hormones. It was probably hormones. Although I was not yet even thirteen, so maybe it was love. Continue reading