On What TV Character Have You Wanted to Be?
@triggermarie Same. I was so completely Angela Chase--and Patty was so my mom--that I can't even bear to watch episodes in adulthood. And I had a Rayanne Graff...as one does.
My obvious choice, then--given that brand of sulky boyhood--is BuffyFuckingSummers.
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On Hüsker Dü, 1983-1987
Dave Bry. Dave Bry. Dave Bry. Dave Bry. (They were sweating on me, if pleasantly.)
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On Hüsker Dü, 1983-1987
I'm in it, right?
My name is, my name is, my name is
Empty.
(Myron Thomas)
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On Hüsker Dü, 1983-1987
the silly thing, Gallaway? You rocked this, hard. Well played. "The Biggest Lie" would crack my top ten, but no quibble: you know your Du. Thanks. Anyway: back to the silly thing. I had to use your brilliant post to take down the chief Awldicks (Matt,Jolie,ArtYucko,etc.). I know they're not going anywhere. But neither am I. Annnd: Awl credits.
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On Hüsker Dü, 1983-1987
Just: Who is this Matt? And it's on, I know...so: And what about you, Jolie? Awl primary smugcommenters, you're merely Fale shite, right? And I'm here to help.
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On Hüsker Dü, 1983-1987
@Matt Finally. Really? Finally. Details, Matt. Matt. Matt.
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On Hüsker Dü, 1983-1987
@Dave Bry That's great. But: Same, re: Turn On the News. Except that's a slippery slope. Then it would have to be a Sugar-Husker-Solo LWC, and that would surely get violent, possibly with swords involved.
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On Movies Written or Directed by John Hughes, in Order
@Flashman Also, let's not forget: with precious little screen time, Robert Downey Jr. fashioned the proto-douche. On speed, no less.
Well said. I love Weird Science.
However, here's my comment-remix (edits bracketed):
"While I appreciate its placement at a fairly respectable No. [6], I think history will judge [Sixteen Candles] to be Mr. Hughes' masterpiece, the work in which his recurring themes of adolescent longing, insecurity, and the search for identity came together with the most profound resonance. Also, [Anthony Michael Hall's finest character, one so iconic Hughes didn't even bother to give him a name]."
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On An Analysis of the Thomas Kinkade Calendar for July
I'm slow, I guess. Are we to file it under "integrity" that these viciously easy (straw-man) analyses/takedowns of Kinkade's pop/sinister atrocities have continued uninterrupted in the wake of his grisly, longtime-coming, alcohol-accelerated suicide? Is that what this is? A steadiness of comic purpose? (Integrity?) He was an interpersonal pill, no doubt, and his art was excruciatingly, sublimely bad. But I don't know--no one else is unsettled to read these now? Kinkade was the worst. Of course. Well-established. The odd pleasure we might take in the singular horribleness of Kinkade's work has been deeply mined by writers for years, pre-Awl. These pitch-perfect artschool-paper-parodies have been good fun. But now? Well-trod. He fucking hated himself. He wasn't without self-awareness. Why tamp the dirt down? Maybe time for an editorial revisit?