From a review of "Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter," the independent movie musical released in 2001:

"In a much-appreciated rejection of modern cinematic conventions, [Jesus Christ] Vampire Hunter abandons the tired clichés of 'plot', 'sense', and 'exposition', replacing them instead with garbled post-synchronized dialogue and lesbians. A fair trade, I'd say."

Going to Yosemite for four days. New story installment when I get back!

From an old X-Men comic book:

(Scene: A Crack Den)

"We're superheroes, Ororo, not God. We can save humanity from Doc Doom or Galactus - - but not from itself."

Word.

Camp is absolutely the bestest movie EVER. Goofy, awkward, cheesy, absurd, and glorious, I plan to see it about 50 times before it leaves the theaters, so anyone who wants to go, drop me an e-mail.

In reading various mixed reviews of the movie, I have a theory. I think that it's hard to enjoy this movie if you have completely forgotten what it was like to be a teenager. If that theory proves to be true . . . well I guess I kind of feel sorry for people who don't like this movie.

Gold stars for anyone who gets the "'Night Mother" joke near the beginning of the movie. I want to be your friend.

Revisionist history . . . I don't have pleasant memories of high school. Other than my enjoyment of the performing arts program, I only remember bad relationships, disloyal friends, ideological conflict with teachers, boredom, marijuana use, terrible acne, disappointing prom dates, and a general sense of alienation.

Going through some old stuff, I just found an article from my high school newspaper. I was apparently voted one of the "Top Ten" graduating seniors of my class. I was "looked upon with high regard by teachers and administrators" who claimed that I had "the vision, drive, and upbeat talent" to succeed in life.

Why don't I remember that? Why haven't I allowed that particular recognition to color my self-image for the last thirteen years?

Memory can be such a cunt sometimes.

Katharine Hepburn, nominated for an all-time record 12 Academy Awards during her career, died just 5 1/2 months after Meryl Streep broke that record by receiving her 13th nomination.

Did Streep kill Hepburn?

Tom Strong is a REAL superhero. You can tell by his hyperbolic metaphors. For example, reflecting on an old Nazi dominatrix foe:

"Ingrid Weiss . . . as vile and as insidiously glamorous as Fascism itself."

His wife and daughter are a little more direct:

"Little woman, tell me where my husband is, or I shall tear out your WOMB."

"Uhh . . . Mom, really, you don't need to do that."

Good times. Check out Tom Strong.

You know those shopping trips where you start out trying on a 33-inch waist . . . and end up buying a 36-inch waist?