10. Lucille Ball (the black-and-white one I saw in the afternoons on the days I stayed home from school sick) and my grandmother were the same person, just at different ages.

9. The pristine Olivia Newton-John at the beginning of Grease was more appealing than trashy Olivia Newton-John at the end, and either of them were preferable to Stockard Channing.

8. The cancellation of "Buck Rodgers in the 25th Century" was the greatest tragedy in American television history.

7. The episode of "Mama's Family" where Mama's family went on "Family Feud" was the most amazing, postmodern event in American television history.

6. There was enough of an appreciable [...]

As mentioned previously, the Christmases of my youth were spent sleeping over at my grandparents' house. This memory comes from what Wikiepedia assures me was 1987—which simultaneously seems like moments ago and an eternity back. I had just turned 15, and was suffering from that terrible curse of teenagerdom where you are worried that it is kind of lame to be spending time with the people who love you best and wishing you were somewhere else. One of the tragedies of our lives is how much we miss out on because we think there's something more interesting happening wherever were aren't; it is a lesson always learned too [...]

Happy people are more selfish and pay less attention to details than do those of us who know that life is an unrelenting slog of boredom, horror, and melancholy, says Science. This obverse of this assertion is looked at in much longer detail in a Times Magazine article on depression this weekend. It examines the idea that depression is an evolutionary strategy aimed at helping us better focus on things. And there is this, on the link between depression and creativity.

"Would you be your own friend?" I have actually thought about this question as it relates to me personally. I mean, on the plus side, I am always quick to buy the round and happy to share my cigarettes. I am a surprisingly good listener who asks the right questions and usually won't offer much in the way of advice unless it seems wanted. I do better than average with the commiseration. I can tell a pretty good joke. I will gossip with you about mutual acquaintances in a way that leaves neither of us feeling guilty the next day. I have not thrown up on anyone since [...]

My technique was to always wear a hoodie. (Thankfully, most movie theaters are overly air-conditioned, though still I often sweated right through my clothes.) The hoodie was because, when I put a finger in each ear, that way I would still have something free to pull down over my eyes. For I was the world's most horrible horror movie wuss.

And yet I kept going to them. I never actually had to walk out, though once I almost threw up in the Union Square Theater… fifteen minutes before the previews even started. While the lights were still up.

Today in art:

On paper, it sounds like one of the worst ideas for a photo project: Portraits of bloggers? At their computers? But Gabriela Herman’s photos of exactly that are surprisingly thoughtful, deep and compelling. They bring out the hidden drama in an extremely passive-looking activity.

Herman’s Bloggers sheds light –- usually the glow of the laptop screen -– to the previously invisible rise of dormitory pundits. She shows us not only the physical spaces where blogging takes place and the people behind the blogs, but also the human connections made over those apartment wi-fi connections.

Hmmm! (You should note that the photo above is by [...]

A recent article in a local newspaper had some kind things to say about this site, and we're very pleased with the reaction. It's a testament to the hard work that the those of us at this site—David and Choire, sure, but particularly the amazing and talented contributors who have offered us their wonderful work without worrying about compensation—have put in over the last couple of years and, hopefully, an inspiration to everyone else with a large vision but a dearth of resources. Still, one small bit has caused a number (that number is three) of people to wonder why I, "the mysterious Mr. Balk," am "never interviewed [...]