Song for you.

I used to knock Lady Gaga for being a typical attention whore. She initially came across like a desperately insecure college freshmen, the kind of girl that glued feathers to her eyes and had threesomes in order to prove how much she didn't care (that girl really just wanted to wear jeans and bang a lacrosse player). These days, however, she has taken her particular brand of "out there" to a whole new level, and I am loving it. Instead of "look how different I am/please like me!" she's saying "I feel kind of weird and wild all the time/it's totally okay if you feel that way too."

TV time.

The City: While The Hills has started to feel dated and forced, the adventures of Whitney, Roxie and company feel fresh and authentic. It helps that Whitney and Roxie are actually friends, and that Whitney really is trying to start a fashion line. The major fault of this show's Los Angeles counterpart was the producers' decision not to acknowledge the cast's celebrity status on camera. Here, Whitney doesn't have to pretend she works at People's Revolution, since Kelly really is helping her launch a career as a designer. Furthermore, Whitney has improved leaps and bounds in her role as the series' star. Her obvious disdain for her pretentious blind date, and the look on her face when Zach (Roxie's date) showed up to the bar with six other girls, were priceless, and the kind of moments she hasn't allowed herself before now. She's finally started to let her personality show, and that has made all the difference.

Glee: "Ballad" was easily my least favorite episode to date. On the plus side, I loved Brittany's throwaway moment of hilarity ("I bet the duck is in the hat"), and Matthew Morrison is probably the only cast member who can match Lea Michele vocally (leading to their beautiful rendition of "Endless Love"). My major concern with "Ballad" was the horrendous characterization of nearly every female character. I found Will's performance of "Young Girl/Don't Stand So Close To Me" utterly insulting, as if his magic singing penis could actually reduce both Rachel and Emma to complete doe-eyed idiocy. His "all these girls are so fragile and crazy" comments didn't help either; they just made him look like a douche. The constant use of the word "crazy" to describe any woman with either strong emotions, or a mind of her own, was gross. For a show that's usually forward-thinking, this was a major step back. Welcome to 2009, Glee writers, you can no longer shrug off a woman's point of view as hormonal hysterics.

The Hills: Is Kristin thinner now than during her Laguna Beach days? I can't get over how long her neck looks. Anyway, popular culture continues to dismantle the feminist movement piece by piece, as Heidi plots to stop taking her birth control in order to "surprise" Spencer with a baby. Her seduction methods include cooking him pasta and dressing like a hooker. This storyline is so obviously fake it's a joke. You can practically see Heidi reading off the cue cards as she teases Spencer with promises of "dessert." On top of that mess, Kristin and Jayde proceed to spend the episode flouncing around L.A. calling the other "crazy" to whoever will listen (or is getting paid to pretend like they care). Though Canadian Jayde telling Kristin to "go back where [she] came from" (um, Malibu?) was an unintentional highlight.

Modern Family: I didn't laugh out loud this week, what the hell? This might be another show I stop writing about, since I never have much to say about it besides "it's good." It's hard to write about a comedy without simply listing the things I found funny; there's not as much to analyze besides whether or not the jokes worked. In that vein, my favorite part of the episode was Alex convincing Luke that Jay was terminally ill. That girl loves to fuck around with her siblings, with consistently hilarious results.

Season of the Witch.

Ozma: She left without warning. No hint of her intentions, no word on how long she might be away . . . what Frou Totenkinder has done constitutes abandonment of her post, in a time of extreme danger . . . the Dark One has made it clear . . . that he is our enemy, and desires our destruction.

Then We Came to the End

It probably didn't help that I started reading this book at the same time I got assigned to my first cubicle. Anyone who has ever worked in an office will recognize members of the cast: the gossip nobody likes (Karen), the storyteller everybody likes (Benny), the second-in-command everybody hates (Joe), the unappreciated hidden talent (Jim), the not-so-secret illicit lovers (Amber and Larry), the aloof boss (Lynn) etc. Ferris' characters get coffee, talk shit, slack off, go to lunch, make photocopies, and generally live generic, uneventful lives. In hindsight, I can understand Ferris' reasons for writing the first third of the book the way he did, but initially, the act of reading Then We Came to the End made me feel like a character in Then We Came to the End, as though I also led a directionless life lacking in substance and excitement.

Everything changed when I reached the Lynn Mason interlude. For the first time, Ferris takes you inside the mind of his most isolated character. The rest of the cast lives in awe/fear of her; the rumor of her cancer spreads from scene to scene. Unlike the rest of the cast, however, we come to know Lynn. She hates hospitals, and has an on/off relationship with a lawyer named Martin. She lives alone and likes The Simpsons. The night before she was scheduled to have a mastectomy, she went to the mall and tried on underwear. She drank wine. She drove to Martin's office, but didn't go inside. She lived a full, devastatingly real life.

With that realization, the book's opening makes perfect sense. All of Ferris' characters live devastatingly real lives to which their coworkers seldom have access. With Lynn's interlude, Ferris raises the stakes. I wanted to shake Joe for even considering not asking Lynn about her illness. Suddenly, I cared. And then, right when I became invested, right when I knew every one's first names, Tom Mota showed up dressed in a clown costume. As soon as you start to take Ferris seriously, he reminds you not to take him too seriously. He reminds you to have fun, and you do. When I reached The End, I'd ridden an emotional roller coaster. It ended up being one hell of a ride.

I love these people so much.

Tonight's installment was maybe the best Glee yet (its only competition would be the Kristin Chenoweth episode, which isn't a fair fight, since that one had . . . Kristin Chenoweth). From the moment Brittany explained that recipes confused her (I am loving poor, stupid Brittany. Between the recipe comment, raising her left instead of her right hand, and her genuine friendship with Becky, she stole the show), I knew I was in for a treat. "Wheels" had humor, pathos, deft characterization, great music, and best of all, no Terri Schuester or Ken/Emma weirdness.

Highlights included: Kurt and his dad, Kurt singing "Defying Gravity," and Kurt in general. I'm so appreciative of the writing staff's delicate handling of this character. It's not very often a prime time show portrays gay teens as anything other than an After School Special or Jack McFarland. I'm really glad Kurt's dad stuck around after the "Single Ladies" episode; their complicated, respectful, loving relationship is easily turning into one of the series' emotional centerpieces.

I also found Sue's story a fair presentation of the issues it raised. I worried the writers were going to make her a bigger monster, but thankfully, they didn't. She actually raised some relevant points. When does acknowledging a student's difference stop being accommodating and start being patronizing? I thought Will could have toned down the "this is so hard for Artie" comments. Artie was eventually able to voice his own concerns, and the other students were willing to listen; we didn't need Will slow clapping every time Artie opened his mouth.

Finally, I'm loving the Love Square (Rachel, Finn, Quinn, and Puck). They all have moments of unpleasantness, but at the end of the day, each of them cares about the other three. Quinn and Puck's food fight was adorable; the actors have great chemistry. As for Rachel, she's my favorite character (I'm just as surprised as you). The girl tries her hardest, every time, and puts the team first when needed. Lea Michele's (phenomenal) voice helps too. Just a great episode all around, regardless of "Defying Gravity" (which made me cry as soon as Kurt started getting nervous about the high note). Good show, Glee, good show.

Song(s) for you.

Now, for something a little different:

Leighton Meester sings as well as she acts. Her version of "Bette Davis Eyes" is a delight, but sadly I can't find it on YouTube.

Cheryl Cole is a judge on The X-Factor, England's American Idol. "Fight For This Love" is her solo debut; give it a chance, it gets better as it goes.

Lady Gaga's video for "Bad Romance" is totally, beautifully insane.

Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce!

My seven favorite characters from the Mad Men finale:

Roger Sterling: Roger is an asshole, but he's also suave, capable, and the most well-connected man on the show. I knew he wouldn't throw Bert and Don to the wolves, but I was glad he made them work for his participation.

Lane Pryce: "Happy Christmas!" indeed. I'm glad Lane didn't end up as Don's Money Minded Season Three Rival (see also: Duck Phillips, Season Two), but an eventual co-conspirator and partner in Don, Roger, and Bert's new agency. He's the newest addition to the cast, and the character we know the least; I'm interested to see where the writers take him.

Joan Harris: I yelled out loud when she walked into the office (my roommates' response "Are you all right?"). Glad to see the best entrance of the night go to the most deserving character. None of the higher-ups would be anywhere without Joan's savvy and absolute competence.

Sally Draper: The Draper divorce was definitely not one of the most awesome things in this episode, but Sally calling out both her parents on their bullshit was excellent. Her line to Don ("You say things and you don't mean them") was right on target, as was her realization that Betty had a lot more to do with the separation than she was willing to admit.

Trudy Campbell: "There's every kind of sandwich in there. And a cake!" Who knew Trudy would be my favorite spouse of the season? She can totally come for cocktails with me and Joan.

Don Draper and Peggy Olsen: I love them both so much. They really are the only characters that understand each other, and Don's admittance that he desperately needs Peggy around was a wonderful touch (and well over-due after all the shit he's given her). His speech about being a person whose life unexpectedly, fundamentally changed was a shot to the heart. I could watch Jon Hamm and Elizabeth Moss have quiet conversation scenes all day. So good to see the best/most interesting relationship on the show get the attention it merits.

Let's hope the new status quo launches the series into the 60's proper with continued badass shenanigans from our favorite advertising executives. My Season Four wish list also includes: Sal. See you next summer, Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce; I miss you too much already.

The Prime of Mr. Erik Lehnsherr.

Magneto: I'll show you a world where there is no strife . . . where no one has to hide in the shadows, quaking at the sound of jets overhead. And you'll turn to me and finally you'll say . . . 'It's really so much nicer without them, isn't it, Erik?'

Ernst: Nobody likes what you're doing, Magneto. It's boring and old-fashioned. Martha says it's all coming to an end and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it.

Magneto: To stand the Earth on its head is hardly the work of an afternoon!

Ernst: Well, Martha says you waited too long. You should have stayed as Mister Xorn - now you're going to die.

I miss this.

Today is one of those perfect fall days that make my heart ache with memory. It's not too hot, it's not too cold. As a rower, you don't expect this weather in November. In November, you expect snow. Some days though, it's nice. You wear shorts, maybe a long-sleeve t-shirt. The sun feels good on your face. The air is still, quiet. The water barely moves. The coxswain doesn't yell too loud; the fall season is over. Days like today are gravy, dessert; they're another day you don't climb onto an erg and prepare to die. Days like today are nice.

Today, I wish I was back at Holy Cross, putting the boat in the water on Lake Quinsig. Bratton would be talking about farts or facial hair, making us laugh. Adam would be wearing sunglasses, even when the dark comes early, changing his clothes over and over between every piece, leading by example. Erick might crack a smile, briefly, before setting his mind to the task at hand, reminding us of our purpose. We would probably be waiting for Jimmy, speeding down 290 on his way from ROTC, stretching himself thin to stay a part of our little family.

Today would be one of those days I look around and feel love for my teammates, my brothers, for the boat, and the water, the feeling of the eight us pushing and pulling together, as one. Today, we would take the rating from an 18 to a 36 and stomp the shit out of our competition. We would get off the water flushed and tired and at peace. Today, we would be reminded of why we fight, why we log the long hours, why we sacrifice so much for each other. Today would be a good day.

Homework.

I'm heading home tonight. After two months in New York, I can't wait to smell the ocean, eat Mom's cooking, and sleep all day. I need a restful/sober weekend, you guys. October was fun, but damn, I'm tired. I wish you all a Halloween complete with sugar-highs, ridiculous costumes, and whatever form of general debauchery your heart desires. Stay safe, and have fun; I'll be back on Monday. In the meantime, check out the following if you find yourself with too much free time this weekend:

Jacob Clifton's latest Gossip Girl recap. In which he addresses the girl power/gay power Serena stuff I always talk about, except he's a genius and quotes classic literature. Give the guy a few pages, and you'll be hooked. He's the most underrated writer in America.

The Tomato Nation 2009 Contest is coming to a close this weekend. It's not too late to donate money towards a variety of educational initiatives via DonorsChoose. A really amazing effort from Sarah Bunting and her readers. Even if you can't afford to donate, dig through her archives, her tough love advice column is informative and hilarious.

Interested in British pop music and/or comic books? If Destroyed, Still True is a smart pop culture blog from across the pond. Paul O'Brien inspired my own X-Men fandom.

Lastly, What's Alan Watching? is a couch potato's dream. Sepinwall provides in-depth analysis of any show worth talking about; his Mad Men posts are fantastic. Get caught up for Sunday's episode in between costume donning and candy scarfing. I'll be playing my parents' new Wii (in my pajamas) (at 4 pm) (yay!).

Song for you.

This one goes out to Lis. Happy almost weekend everybody.

TV time.

I'm a few weeks behind on Mad Men. I keep hearing that it's gotten totally awesome/insane, so I probably won't comment on it until I'm caught up. No new Glee this week either.

The City: Only five episodes into the new season, and I might love this show more than The Hills. Someone at MTV must have taught Whitney how to be the new Lauren because she is flashing endearing charm all over the place. It's moments like her and Roxie doing the "Single Ladies" dance while getting ready for the night (remember how like, fifty percent of Laguna Beach was the girls talking in front of the mirror?) that make this work. Erin's continued competence at her job, Roxie's wild child/best friend persona, and the genius of Kelly Cutrone are icing on the cake. I'd also love to figure out what Olivia did to the people at MTV because they must hate her. The girl cannot catch a break, no matter how many times they shoot her looking pretty while walking down the hall at Elle.

The Hills: Does Drunk Holly remind anyone else of themselves/most of their friends circa Saturday night? According to Heidi and Spencer, most of the people I know would have drinking problems. Now, maybe Holly really does hit the bottle too hard, but they need to show her doing something besides dancing if they're going to convince me she needs rehab. And Stephanie "rehab changed my life" Pratt might want to eat those words in light of her new DUI. My problem with this show is that the three primary leads (Kristin, Audrina, and Heidi) never interact. If the show is going to ditch the girls' work lives in favor of bitch fights and boy drama, you would think they'd find three stars who could actually stand to share a room.

Modern Family: A pretty sloppy episode with the occasional hilarious highlights. It's the little things like Jay changing costumes between scenes for no apparent reason that brought this one down. And Clare's closing monologue was way too sugar-coated. As usual, I loved everything Mitchell/Cam. Mitchell bumping Lily's head (in her Diana Ross wig) was hysterical.

I Am Jean Grey.

Jean Grey: Scott . . . I had to watch it all changing . . . had to let him go because of what love says . . . the Phoenix burns and disinfects and dies to return . . . I feel so scared and weird, Logan . . . don't leave me.

Phoenix: Live Scott, live. All I ever did was die on you.

My so-called life.

I recently alluded to changes in my status quo; allow me to explain. For two weeks, I interned at a boutique literary agency. There, I read all kinds of things, mostly manuscripts and query letters. Piece of advice: if you're going to query your New Literary Novel, spell the agent's name right. Last week, I got a full-time job working as the assistant here. Today's my third day. My responsibilities include writing for their blog; you can now read more from me here. I'm liking it a great deal so far.

In other news, if you live in Maine, do the country a favor and vote to legalize gay marriage. My home parish apparently took an extra collection last week to raise money in opposition. Nothing says "God is love" like asking your parishoners, mid-service, to donate money in support of state enforced discrimination. Let's give Catholicism a hand! Seriously, I could write another 10,000 words about this, but I won't. It's common sense. Gay marriage isn't anybody's business except for the couple in the relationship. No one is trying to gay-marry the Pope.

Defying gravity.

A few days ago, I exclaimed via Twitter my excitement that Rachel and Kurt are singing "Defying Gravity" on the next episode of Glee. It's probably obvious that I'd be excited about my favorite song (inspired by my favorite book) being sung on one of my favorite TV shows. That's a lot of favorite crammed into 3-5 minutes. It's something to dork out about, but it's also something to consider seriously in light of the times in which we live.

"Defying Gravity" is one of those songs that excites a bodily reaction. Your heart starts pumping, you get chills, you cry. The first time I heard it, I got an adrenaline rush like I would get at the starting line of a 2k crew race. It's a fucking powerful song. It's the story of a woman coming into her own, specifically, the moment Elphaba Thropp realizes she's a total fucking bad ass, that the Wizard of Oz is full of shit, and that she can doing something about it. It's about a little green girl deciding she's not afraid anymore, that the room she's lived in all her life is a room of her own making, and that all she has to do is step outside. It's about realizing you're beautiful, powerful, perfect.

You could also say it's a story about Emma Frost relinquishing her diamond form, stepping out into the world, and burning like the Phoenix we all are. There's a reason I quote Wicked and Jacob Clifton's Gossip Girl recaps and Grant Morrison's New X-Men all the time. If I had my way, every teenage girl and gay boy would read them. America loves telling teenage girls and gay boys that they belong in dark rooms, that their sexuality is something dangerous and scary. Girls get pregnant, queers get AIDS, and anyone who thinks otherwise is deranged. Kids everywhere internalize that shit. They bottle it up, and learn to fear their own bodies. They stay little green girls in dark rooms, when really they are a Phoenix.

Things are changing, though. Just last week Puck asked Rachel if she wanted to make out and she shrugged and said "okay." Things are changing, one "Never gonna bring me down," at a time. That said, make sure to tune in to the next episode of Glee because one teenage girl and one teenage gay boy are going to tell us a story. It's a story we've already heard, but I think it bears repeating. Those kids need us now more than ever. Let's burn.

Never Let Me Go

Reading this book is like taking your heart out of your chest, caressing it lovingly for a few hours, and then unceremoniously smashing it to pieces. On the surface, it's such a quiet, delicate thing; Kathy repeatedly brushes against the big questions of her strange existence, yet rarely directly engages them. When she, or the other characters, dare to speak plainly about Hailsham, we feel as unsettled and bewildered as she does. Time and again, she diverts our attention away from pressing existential matters toward smaller moments of emotional intimacy. It's only after you've finished the novel that you realize those moments pack a more forceful punch than any discussion of clones and organ donations.

This book most reminded me of Brave New World in the way it depicts an alternate timeline to which we can both relate and feel completely separate. We identify with Kathy's struggle to be a good friend to both Tommy and Ruth, yet we struggle to understand the characters' resigned acceptance of their fate. To us, Kathy appears detached or even uninterested in matters of extreme importance (what exactly being a donor means, the truth about Hailsham), but to her, it's just the way her life works. The difficult parts of her life have to do with her friends and sex and love relationships, just like everyone else.

I found Ishiguro's presentation of sex refreshing. When Kathy talks about the moments when she wants sex so badly she'd do it with anyone, we feel uncomfortable because we don't talk like that. Ruth teaches Kathy to feel ashamed of her urges, but in the end reveals she feels similarly. I wish this book was taught in high school, so teenagers would understand that everyone feels weird and wild about sex. It's just a part of growing up. That's what this book is really about, growing up, becoming a person, learning to love. The "possibles" and carers are just the setting for one of the most moving stories I've read in a long time. Ultimately, Ishiguro leaves you feeling like Kathy in that field, tears running down your face, wishing the people you care most about (in this case, our beloved narrator) would never let you go.

March of the Witch Hunters.

The Magic Mirror: You've managed to make an enemy of Bufkin, the monkey. Once he decided he needed to destroy you, you were basically doomed.

Baba Yaga: I've never heard of such a creature. What are his powers?

The Magic Mirror: He reads. He reads everything.

TV time.

Dollhouse and The Office are no longer Mandatory Viewing. Dollhouse showed so much promise with "Epitaph One," but now it's back to Echo's Mission of the Week. I don't find Echo interesting, so count me out until they start focusing on the larger mythology again and/or Amy Acker returns. As for The Office, it's still a great show, but my interest has waned. When I couldn't bring myself to watch Jim and Pam get married, I knew it was time to say goodbye. Unless the writers can find a new status quo, like they did with the Michael Scott Paper Company episodes, I probably won't be back to Dunder Mifflin for a while.

The City: Ditching the Hills style narration and focus on love relationships has done wonders for this show. Whitney is massively more appealing as a nice girl trying to make her way in the fashion industry than she was as Jay's doe-eyed girlfriend, plus Roxie and Erin = awesome. Is it just me, or does Olivia seem kind of downtrodden this season?

Glee: Too much Terri, but I loved everyone else, particularly Rachel. Her reaching out to Quinn ("the kids in glee won't judge you") was a great moment; Lea Michele has grown exponentially as an actress. I also loved her extra-hyper introduction to the girls' mash-up (" . . . and also ANGELS!") and morning routine. If Emma marries Ken, I'm going to be sad.

The Hills: Audrina doesn't like Kristen because Kristen has more charisma in her pinkie finger than Audrina does in her entire person, so Audrina is funneling her rage into all this "girl code" bullshit, since she can't acknowledge the cast's celebrity status on camera. Also, why is it that even with Lauren gone, Heidi and Spencer don't interact with anyone but themselves?

Mad Men: A fantastic episode, if only for the show's willingness to portray its characters acting horribly. Don must be on a mission to personally destroy every favorable member of the cast (though Peggy seems to have gotten over her tongue lashing a few weeks back). Poor Sal seems to be a recurring response this year; my stomach lurched when Don muttered "you people." I hope we see more of Carla soon, and mark me down as unenthusiastic about Don's new affair and Betty's character in general.

Modern Family: The funniest show on TV. Just watch it.

Song for you.

My love for Kristin Chenoweth knows no bounds.

How I Became a Famous Novelist

It takes a lot for me to laugh out loud at a book, but Steve Hely had me on page two with "Sometimes I'd wake up wearing my jeans. I wore jeans daily because jeans can double as a napkin."

That line describes narrator Pete Tarslaw perfectly. Pete is a lovable loser, the kind of jackass you like to have around because his antics are so damn entertaining. The plot involves Pete writing an admittedly hack best-selling novel, all the while waving his middle finger at a publishing industry he views as a pathetic joke. Of course, the joke is really on Pete, as he's forced to learn a few deserved life lessons, but not before Hely has some fun of his own examining the state of The Writer in contemporary America.

It's true that lots of former English majors consider the best-seller list to be generic crap. Commercial fiction is not always well-written, but people still like to read it. It's writers like Dan Brown who keep publishing houses alive and capable of supporting less popular, award-winner types. Hely understands this fact, and would very much like the literary elite to get over themselves. I liked this book because I'm a big fan of people getting over themselves, even if I'm prone to being a book snob myself.

My favorite part was Pete's visit to an MFA program in Montana. Hely's description of the creative writing classroom was perfect, down to the professor lauding "Ray Carver and Rick Yates." I read Short Cuts and Revolutionary Road because my (totally awesome) professor, Melissa Falcon, waxed poetic about their greatness (both books are kick ass, and got made into movies, I might add). How I Became a Famous Novelist may poke fun at those brave souls taking a stab at the writing life, but at the end of the day, Hely's obvious affection for these people and their efforts far outweighs his narrator's cynicism.

Nice work, MTV.

If my Ode to Kristin Cavallari didn't tip you off, I'm a big fan of the MTV It Girls. Now, The Hills has been consistently awesome since Heidi ditched Lauren for Spencer, but the first season of The City left me cold. Whitney Port is a nice enough girl, but she's also kind of quiet, and the show lacked a truly outrageous supporting cast to start the drama for her.

So, imagine my surprise when I caught the premiere of The City last week, and discovered a series revamped and ready to kick ass. Gone are all the boring models and rocker boyfriends, replaced by the combined awesomeness of Erin Kaplan and Roxy Olin. You guys, I am so excited about these two. First of all, Erin appears to have a real job that she's actually good at. This, I support; I could watch her boss around Olivia Palermo all day.

Even more awesome than Erin, however, is Roxy, who is clearly down to fuck with Whitney's life for our entertainment. Not only did she stomp into Kelly Cutrone's offices proclaiming she's not a "bitch," just a "straight shooter," but she also laughed at Whitney's bedazzled flower pot. The best part is that she's actually likeable, and it's clear she and Whitney get along. Whitney has always needed a best friend who encourages her to do things like throw loud parties; she showed more personality in her three scenes with Roxy than she ever did with Lauren. Against my previous misgivings, put me down for a season pass.

The Importance of Being Scott Summers.

Jean Grey: Scott, you're my favorite superhero.

Scott Summers: So anyway, this bad guy, En Sabah Nur, wound up worming his way into my thoughts . . . even when I threw him off I couldn't stop thinking all this awful stuff . . . I mean, people like Jean and the Professor just shrug this kind of thing off like it's some sort of occupational hazard . . . It's hard to talk to them.

Emma Frost: So all you're saying is that some mind monster put a lot of dirty thoughts in your head, and you're embarrassed in case your telepathic wife sees what you're really thinking about her? Oh Scott, how ordinary!

Call Me by Your Name

Call Me by Your Name took a while to win me over. The first hundred-or-so pages are torturous; Elio pines for Oliver yet doubts his feelings are reciprocated, while we wait for the the pair to admit their attraction to one another. Elio endlessly nourishing his crush gets tiresome and frustrating, but that's exactly how Elio feels.

You could argue that Aciman has taken Annie Proulx's "Brokeback Mountain" plot (forbidden gay romance followed by years of unrequited longing) and replaced her Wyoming cowboys with jet-setting Jewish intellectuals. Accusing Aciman of such heavy borrowing, however, proves lazy reading. Call Me by Your Name touches upon many of the same issues "Brokeback" addresses, but it does so in a more languid, less angst-ridden manner. Elio eventually gets over Oliver; both men go on to live successful lives, while keeping a place in their heart for the other. Elio's father even acknowledges and understands their affair. It's a softer presentation of homosexuality, a luxury the characters can afford due to their class and political leanings.

The best writing occurs after the men consummate their relationship. You expect to find Elio overjoyed, instead, he feels nothing but revulsion for what he's just done, abandoning Oliver for a date with a female friend. That kind of sexual confusion, and desperate need to plug back into heterosexual society, felt very real, and exemplifies the honest, complicated nature of Aciman's work. This was another pleasant surprise.

The "bitch" is back.

If you couldn't tell, I'm looking forward to the return of The Hills and Kristin Cavallari's Reign of Chaos. Lauren Conrad navigated her later seasons on the show with a degree of class and maturity lacking in her cast mates, but if you think about it, she spent her entire Hills tenure playing the Wronged Girl. People started rumors about her, yelled at her, dumped her, and dated her ex-boyfriends, and as such, she lived a dramatic life. If it weren't for the crimes committed against her, I don't know if any of us would find her all that interesting.

Kristin has been many things, but never a victim. You can tell she's having the time of her life messing with Audrina Partridge because at the end of the day, she could care less. She is playing a role just as much as Heidi and Spencer; her charm, however, lies in the way she does it. If Heidi and Spencer try their hardest to make their rehearsed breakfast conversations appear genuine (and fail miserably), then Kristin effortlessly engages in pool party drama, winking at us all the while. She knows we know that The Hills is as heavily produced as any scripted show, but she also knows that doesn't mean we can't enjoy it.

Now, I like Lauren Conrad, and I think she has her shit together. I enjoyed watching her grow up on national television. I mean, she gave us "He's a sucky person!" and "You know what you did!" I'm glad she found success, and I'm glad she said goodbye to a show she clearly tired of doing. I'm even more glad, however, to have Kristin Cavallari back in my life. If Lauren taught us how to deal with being Wronged, then Kristin is here to teach us how not to get Wronged in the first place.

Song for you.

TV time.

Thanks to the cable I got last week, I've been able to catch up on all my favorite shows. You can check the sidebar to see what I'm watching; the roster is pretty much complete, except for The Hills which returns on Tuesday. Going forward, I don't intend to blog about every episode of every show. While I enjoy shows like The Office, I don't have something new to say about them every week. So we're all on the same page, here's a quick look at recent viewing:

Dollhouse: The premiere, "Vows," was good, thanks again to the genius of Amy Acker. The Echo/Ballard storyline was fine, and we learned Echo retains something of her multiple personalities, but Dr. Saunders' identity issues were easily the highlight. I don't really care about an undercover FBI agent; I do care about a woman coming to grips with the idea that her persona is an invented personality inhabiting the body of a stranger. Less B-movie explosions, more tortured soul-searching, please.

Mad Men: I'm two episodes behind on this one. "Guy Walks into an Advertising Agency" was a great showcase for Christina Hendricks. I'm sure Joan will be back at some point; I just hope she doesn't go away for too long. Tonight's "Seven Twenty-Three," on the other hand, was tough. Between Peggy sleeping with Duck (ugh), Don acting like a total dick to both Peggy and Betty, and Betty having another near-affair, no one was acting admirably. The evening's Gold Star goes to Bert Cooper for demonstrating he's a total fucking badass, not just some funny, old guy who walks around in socks. Still the best show on television, but I'd like to be able to root for at least one of the main characters, you know?

Modern Family: Watch it. Go to Hulu, or ABC, and watch it. It's well made and amusing for the first 17 minutes or so, but the last five minutes will make you laugh until you cry.

The Office: Like I said in my comments on last season's finale, these people are old friends. Watching this show is like wearing your favorite pair of jeans that are starting to get worn, but that just makes you love them all the more. This season's first two episodes were standard Office fare, but that doesn't mean they weren't wonderful. I'm interested to see what will happen with Jim and Michael as co-managers (I'm a little skeptical).

Don't stop believing (in "Glee").

I almost gave up on Glee after the "Acafellas" episode (episode 3, for those keeping count). The show was just all over the place, so many characters with so little depth, not enough laugh-out-loud humor, and musical numbers nowhere near the excellence of "Don't Stop Believin'." I thought, maybe the pilot was the best this show could do, maybe Glee already peaked. But, then I watched Wednesday's episode, and I'm back to being hooked.

"Preggers" had everything I want from Glee: musicality, dark humor, a pinch of drama, and recognizable humanity. It was funny, it was fun, and it had heart. The teenage cast is finally starting to stand out - Kurt, Tina, Quinn, Puck, Mercedes, and Finn have all emerged as distinctive personalities. Rachel, of course, was already distinctive, but I realized on Wednesday that you're supposed to think she's just as annoying as her peers do. The adult cast, meanwhile, has always been strong; Will, Sue, and Emma were the best things about the first three episodes.

My favorite "Preggers" moments were the football team doing the "Single Ladies" dance, Kurt's conversation with his dad, Tina's solo, Terri and Quinn's confrontation, and Sue's closing monologue. Next week looks even better with Kristin Chenowith and the cast singing "Somebody to Love" (download it on iTunes, it's phenomenal). Bravo Glee, you've made a believer out of me.

Song for you.

The Corrections

The Corrections is a big, sprawling, epic mess of a novel. When I say "mess," I don't mean lazy, or cluttered, or in dire need of editing. Jonathan Franzen carefully crafts every plot turn, every character reversal, in such an intricate, subtle way, that you don't realize the extent of his machinations until you put down all 500+ pages and think "holy shit, it all makes sense." I use the word "mess" to imply that these people, the Lambert family, are a total fucking mess.

The strength of The Corrections is Franzen's ability to completely actualize all five of his chief protagonists, and weave their narratives together into a seamless tapestry. We start with Chip, then shift to Gary, then Alfred and Enid, then Denise, then everyone takes turns leading as the story smashes toward it's climax. All five of the Lamberts are selfish, annoying assholes who make horrible decisions at the expense of their family members, yet you can't help but love them. You love Alfred for his desperate attempts to manage his Parkinson's, even while he emotionally distances his family. You love Denise for her tenacity and sense of duty, even as she sleeps with a married man (and his wife). You love Enid for her desperate hope that she can have all the things she wants (her family's love, financial security), even as she refuses to admit her life is falling apart.

Each section builds upon the others. In Chip's, we experience Denise as a know-it-all, uber-successful career woman who intimidates her older brother, yet in her section we realize she's barely got herself together. It's just a really impressive thing to watch an author juggle so many people and so many plots and make it look effortless. This book deserves all the praise and accolades it's received. This is what novels are supposed to be.

Coming soon . . .

. . . lots of fun things. It's late, and I'm tired, so this post is really just a placeholder until tomorrow, at which point I'll be refreshed, recharged, and ready to go. We got wireless/cable at my apartment today, so I can finally start posting regularly. Some things you have to look forward to:

1. My thoughts on last week's Mad Men, Glee, and The Office.


2. My reaction to The Corrections (it feels like forever since I've written about a book, mainly because I didn't give Unaccustomed Earth the space it deserves, and because The Corrections is an awesome sprawl of a narrative that took some time to get through).


3. This idea keeps rattling around in my head: Gossip Girl's Serena/Blair, Wicked's Elphaba/Glinda, and New X-Men's Jean/Emma are all telling the same story. Serena, Elphaba, and Jean burn with crazy Phoenix powers, thus rejecting the social systems they're born into, while Blair, Glinda, and Emma rock the system hardcore because they're too scared/don't know any better*.

*Of course, Elphaba and Jean both end up dead. The Wicked Witch has to die at the end of The Wizard of Oz and Phoenix is too powerful a character to keep around in a superhero team book. According to this model, Serena's ultimate fate will prove tragic, yet I'm inclined to believe Josh Schwartz has something a little more optimistic in mind. We'll see.

Song for you.

I was originally going to make Kid Sister's "Right Hand Hi" a "Yay or Nay?" but then I found myself singing it in the shower this afternoon, and realized she's here to stay.

The Witching Hour.

Frau Totenkinder: Ozma was right. It's a time for ending.

A time for dramatic and terrible change.

September issues.

I had the pleasure of seeing The September Issue last night, and it was fantastic. Respectful, fair, it was a truly balanced portrayal of these women and the work they do. It wasn't a portrait of Mean Girl bitchiness, or a snicker at the seriousness with which these people take their jobs. For Anna Wintour, Grace Coddington, and all the rest, fashion is about art, it's about turning fantasy into reality. That's what they do, and they're damn good at it.

A lot of reviewers have hailed Coddington as the film's true star, and she definitely opens herself more to the cameras than some of her co-workers, but I think there's a reason the film begins and ends with Anna Wintour. She keeps us at arms length, but with a twinkle in her eye and a knowing mystique to her aura. We don't really want to know what she's thinking because then the mystery would be gone. I found her charming, in an utterly terrifying way.

Some housecleaning:

• I'm getting cable/Internet on Tuesday (!) so expect more talk about television. I'm going to catch up on Glee and The Office next week, since I don't feel like buying them on iTunes. I might check out Community too. Plus, The Hills returns in ten days, and I'm interested to see what the show looks like post-Lauren (my prediction: Kristin talks shit about/starts fights with everyone, while looking totally bored/completely amused).


• Last week's Mad Men ("The Fog") was good, but not one of my favorites. I like January Jones a lot, but Betty is far from my favorite character, and I really dislike when the script uses the episode title in such a pointed, obvious way ("It was all a fog"). The Peggy/Don scene was terrific though, thanks to the never ending brilliance of Elizabeth Moss and Jon Hamm. I can't say enough about those two.

"Mr. Osborn . . . "

" . . . we're all X-Men now."

So ends Utopia, Matt Fraction's first cross-over as writer of Uncanny X-Men. Now, I like that moment a lot; I dig the idea that you have to be your own X-Man (or X-Woman) if you expect to survive in a world that hates and fears you. In theory, I support the whole "be your own superhero" mantra, but in practice, what does it mean for the book?

This book needs a regular cast of 7-9 characters, not 35. It's all well and good for fan favorites to make a cameo every few issues, but the cast needs emotional arcs, not two panels of face time every two months. It dilutes the readers' connection to the story when they can't relate to any of the main characters. Also, mark me down as unenthused about the X-Men running their own island nation (after only 15 issues in San Fransico). It was called Genosha, and Grant Morrison decimated it for a reason.*

*This post brought to you from the EXTREMELY NERDY portion of Wade's brain.

Song for you.

Catch-up.

I've been horrible about keeping a regular posting schedule; bear with me. I still don't have a reliable Internet connection in my apartment, nor do I have a desk. Nevertheless, here's a quick and dirty look at my recent cultural consumption:

Men Men "The Arrangements": This is from two Sundays ago, but since it took about a week to download I'm just getting to it (it's killing me to be so behind in my Mad Men viewing). Another strong episode, with a heaping portion of Peggy Olsen hilarity. The scenes between her and Joan ("Please Joan, tell me what to do"), and her and her potential roommate (" . . . you know, fun") had me laughing out loud. I don't remember much else besides Grandpa Gene being pretty cool to Sally and then dying. Poor Sally should ask Don and Betty to start saving for her therapy bills now. And the scene between Sal and his wife was kind of hard to watch.

Glee "Showmance": I don't know. The teenage cast members can't act and the songs sound so ridiculously dubbed over it's embarrassing (I had to avert my eyes during the "Gold Digger" performance). This show has so many things going for it (mainly Jane Lynch and Jayma Mays, even though Lynch's character stopped resembling anything close to a human being after 30 seconds). I'm going to stick it out another episode or two in hopes that the writers are just finding their feet, but I'm getting nervous. I did like Rachel telling the chastity club that girls want sex just as much as boys (and Lea Michele still has a great voice).

The Rise and Fall of Emma Frost.

"I know [Jean's] so pure and their love is so special, and I'm so shallow and spiteful and manipulative . . . I know because she saw right through me. She saw the truth and I had no defense . . . Why did I allow myself to become so stupid and vulnerable, Logan? Why did I have to fall in love with Scott bloody Summers?"

Pure magic.

I made it to New York, and am getting settled just fine. To tide you over until I get a more reliable Internet connection, here are some of my favorite quotes from my favorite book, Gregory Maguire's Wicked:

"'We could get together, we could have a quiet dinner party together in our rooms upstairs. Please, Fiyero . . . It would do me such an honor.' She cocked her head and put a single finger to her chin, elegantly, and he could tell she was struggling through the language of her class to say something real." (Glinda and Fiyero, pg. 210)

"'Yes, Papa, I'm here,' she answered, with child's politeness . . . She sat down, wary, tired, astonished at the wealth of her own feeling for him. She was full of need. But, she reminded herself, you're a grown woman." (Elphaba and her father, Frex, pg. 307)

"'I'm drunk and disorderly,' [the Witch] said, 'and I cannot take any more riddles. I killed someone today, I can kill you too."

'You didn't kill her, she was already dead,' said the dwarf calmly. 'And you can't kill me, for I'm immortal. But you try very hard at life, and so I will tell you this . . . you are a new breed, you are a grafted limb, you are a dangerous anomaly. Always you were drawn to the composite creatures, the broken and reassembled, for that is what you are.'" (Elphaba and the dwarf, pgs. 373-4).

Start spreading the news.

I'm leaving Portland on Thursday. It's time I get back to New York, and start my post-grad life (I know it started on May 22nd or whenever, but now it feels like it's starting for real). I still don't have a job, but I do have an apartment complete with a dishwasher (!) and two roommates who aren't strangers. The employment thing will happen.

Regardless, I'm moving, so I won't be writing much for the rest of the week. I know I don't keep the most diligent blogging schedule, but that's due for a change once I'm settled. Before I go, here are some quick thoughts on the latest entertainment I've absorbed:

• I raced through Brett Easton Ellis' Less Than Zero last night/this afternoon. It's a fucked up examination of the morally depraved, materially excessive culture of early 80's Los Angeles. All the characters do coke, are bisexual, and never sleep; you feel like you're holding your breath through the whole thing. These kids don't have anything to lose, so they constantly push the limits of acceptable behavior. It didn't disturb me so much as intrigue me. Like Clay, the narrator, I had a queasy desire to "see the worst" the characters were capable of. I think that's the point.

• Last night's Mad Men ("My Old Kentucky Home") was the best of the season, so far. Much tighter pacing/writing all around, with ample time given to the majority of the supporting cast. Did anyone else have the sinking feeling Grandpa Gene was going to do something really horrific to either Sally or Carla? Their scenes were tense. Episode highlights included everything Peggy or Joan did/said, Pete and Trudy dancing, and Don's conversation with the random man behind the bar.

See you in September.

Yay or nay?

I give you "We Are Golden" the new MIKA single. I can't decide how I feel about it. The random teenagers yelling through the chorus are kind of distracting/annoying, but it still has that fun sense of cheesy grandeur for which MIKA is famous.



Also, I'm about a third of the way through Unaccustomed Earth and it's fantastic (shocking, I know, what with The New York Times and Amazon and Jesus putting it on their best book lists). Lahiri writes her dialouge in block paragraph form, so the pages are dense, but her writing is so delicate and precise you hardly notice. Reading her stories is like sitting quietly on a cloud.

"Are you very afraid?"

I can't follow True Blood every week (no HBO at the family homestead), so I'm glad I caught "I Will Rise Up," the ninth episode of the current season, this afternoon. That final scene between Eric, Sookie, and Godric was easily the most beautiful five minutes of television I've seen in years (yes, that includes Mad Men*). With her pretty tears and graceful line readings, Anna Paquin broke my heart into a million little pieces.

*Last Sunday's Mad Men was still great, thanks to Peggy singing "Bye, Bye Birdie" into her mirror, the general awesomeness of Roger's ex-wife, Mona, and Don taking another step towards becoming the family man his wife and children desperately need.

Song for you.

Entertainment weekly.

I said that I would hit the ground running when I got home from my mini-vacation; I ended up wafting gently back to earth. I'm finally back, so let's get to it:

Dollhouse "Epitaph One": Like I said, easily the best episode of this show to date. It raises the stakes monumentally. The series is no longer sitting in Philosophy 101 debating the existence of the soul, it's staving off a zombie apocalypse! The episode also featured a lot less Echo/Caroline (she has got to be one of the least compelling lead characters, ever) and a lot more Adelle, Victor and Claire/Whiskey (this show has a killer supporting cast). I'm definitely on board for next season, both to see the flashbacks in context and spend more time with our merry band of post-apocalyptic rebels. The best thing Joss Whedon has made since Serenity.

The Lovely Bones: Friends told me they loved this book, but hated the ending. I'm neutral about the whole endeavor. Maybe I'm not the target audience? Susie's story just didn't pack the emotional punch that I thought it would. My favorite parts were the near-misses with Mr. Harvey; the chapter where Len ignores the phone to consummate his affair with Abigail was maddeningly tense. I wanted more of that thriller feel. The ending: I thought the point of heaven was that Susie had to let go of Earth and accept she couldn't go back? Her getting to possess Ruth/have sex with Ray felt like a cheat. Oh, and I liked the meaning of the title.

Mad Men "Out of Town": So, so, so great to have this show back. It's the best thing on television, period. The opening sequence threw me off, but once we got back to the Sterling Cooper offices it was smooth sailing. Loved Pete v. Ken, Round 1 (who knew Ken could be so awesome?). At first, I couldn't believe Don was willing to sleep with the flight attendant, but his boredom/increased unease with his behavior redeemed the redundancy of the encounter. I definitely wanted more Betty/Joan/Peggy, but we've got the whole season ahead of us. And poor Sal. I'm glad he got some, but he's got a long way to go.

Netherland: I read this two books ago, so pardon my failed attempts to generate a detailed response. It's good, challenging at times, very literary. It's the kind of book I could see being taught. The cricket stuff bored me, a little. I felt cool recognizing NYC cross-streets. It's the first book I've read about 9/11 and the Iraq War (it's not really about those events, but it does touch upon them) that didn't piss me off (I just think writing about 9/11 is so cheap/easy; what is the new take on that day? It was horrible for everyone. Writing about 9/11 is the Sally Field performance of literature). Read this book, but not at the beach.

To do.

I made some layout/formatting changes with which I'm continually tinkering, so bear with me. As for my personal status, I'm still in Maine/unemployed, but maybe/hopefully that will change by the end of the week. Who knows? I'm in limbo; it kind of feels like being an Active on Dollhouse (except I would not like "a treatment," thanks)*.

Anyway, the point of this post is to say that I'm going out of town for a night, but here's what I'll be writing about when I get back:

• Thoughts on Netherland (short version: good, literary, challenging) and maybe The Lovely Bones, if I finish it (so far: like it, don't love it, can't figure out why).


• Thoughts on the Mad Men premiere (LOVED IT, for various reasons) and the "lost" episode of Dollhouse (liked it ten times better than any other episode I've seen).


• Something about music? I am really digging The Airborne Toxic Event, Say Hi, and Regina Spektor right now (that might be all I have to say about music).

See you in a few days. I promise to hit the ground running upon my return.

*How perfect is Amy Acker on that show? The Echo/Ballard stuff bores me to tears but anytime Claire/Whiskey comes onscreen I am totally hooked.

Nerd alert.

I spent some time in Portland's local comic shop today a) because I am that nerdy and b) because I was looking for the first volume of Grant Morrison's The Invisibles (they had every volume except the first, which happened to be the only volume Borders did have, but I digress). I don't buy comics in the monthly issue format (the ads are ugly/break up the story, trade paperbacks look nicer on a bookshelf), but I did flip through a few this afternoon.

Fables #87: Fables was my big graphic novel obsession of last summer (replaced throughout the year by Y: The Last Man). It's a great series, very entertaining, with absolutely gorgeous artwork from Mark Buckingham. Frankly, I stopped buying it because the trade paperbacks were getting too expensive, and issue #50 (Bigby and Snow's wedding) felt like a good stopping place. This issue is part one of the Witches arc, and addresses Baba Yaga's recent escape from imprisonment. It's the usual Fables loveliness (and it features the debut of Ozma), but I'm not sure I'm ready to buy the four volumes needed to catch up. We'll see.

Uncanny X-Men #514: The X-Men franchise has been floundering since Grant Morrison left. The post Messiah Complex era has felt more cohesive, but I'm a long ways away from buying a new X-Men comic. That said, this issue wasn't that bad. The Utopia storyline is getting some good press, and the story has a fun sense of momentum. The book still needs a regular cast of less than 15 characters, and I'm not sure it's a great idea to rip the team out of San Francisco just yet, but I'll be keeping a closer eye on this one.

I can't wait . . .

. . . for this Sunday.

The Magicians

Lev Grossman's The Magicians officially came out today; I read an advance copy (say it with me) at Columbia. While at the course, I also met Grossman, his editor, Molly Stern, and members of the book's marketing and publicity teams. Needless to say, they all love this book.

My classmates had a more mixed reaction to a story I'd characterize as Harry Potter goes to Narnia, except with sex, drinking and drugs (so maybe it's the cast of The Secret History goes to Narnia after graduating from Hogwarts?). Grossman positions his text as a darker, more realistic exploration of conventional young adult fantasy. It's true that Harry, Ron, and Hermione only ever engaged in the chastest of kissing, and that Aslan sent the Pevensie children to war (twice).

In The Magicians, Grossman follows these events to their logical conclusions. Even if Rowling didn't acknowledge it, students at Hogwarts had to be having sex. And how did Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy not end up totally fucked in the head*? I'd still rather re-read The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, but I appreciate Grossman's approach (the Antarctica and Manhattan chapters are particularly inventive).

*Personally, I'm waiting for the day Gregory Maguire gives Susan Pevensie the Wicked treatment (seriously, how fucking sick would that book be, especially if she ended up as the White Witch?).

Wolfish!

My friend, Melissa Wolfish, recently started a blog of her own: Squirrel Fancy. I met Melissa at Columbia - she is crazy talented, funny, and smart, so make sure to check her out. As an extra incentive, you'll also find a rather ridiculous picture of yours truly, delivering a truly ridiculous toast at our final banquet (let's just say that glass of wine in my hand was not the first).

We have a winner.

I don't actually watch So You Think You Can Dance, I just YouTube the performances the next day. This season hasn't wowed me as often as last year (the hip-hop, in particular, has been lackluster), but I'm still excited for the winner, Jeanine Mason.

Jeanine's been a regular component in almost all my favorite routines, and she comes across as a really down-to-earth girl. In honor of her win, here's one of her stand-out performances:

Entertainment weekly.

I'm home in Maine until my New York lease starts later this month. It's very quiet here, so I've got lots of free time to do all my favorite things (lay in bed and read, lay in bed and watch movies, etc.). Here's what I read/watched this week:

The Tenderness of Wolves: Really, really good. I don't normally go for historical fiction, but I got this for free at Columbia, and figured I might as well give it a try. I'm glad I did. Stef Penney strikes the perfect balance between intricately complex plotting and strong character work. The entire cast exists in three dimensions: Mrs. Ross, Parker, Moody, Francis, Line, the list goes on. Mrs. Ross, in particular, is a triumph. The plot (which begins as a murder mystery) grabs your attention, but the characters are the real reason for sticking around. Maybe my favorite book of this summer; Olive Kitteridge has some stiff competition, at the very least.

Watchmen: I never saw this in theaters, and I'm kind of glad I didn't. I watched it in two installments (I paused when Rorschach went to prison), and the break kept it from feeling too long. I really liked it - a smart take on the superhero genre that didn't call too much attention to itself or suffocate the viewer with its sense of self-importance (I'm talking about you, The Dark Knight). Malin Akerman was as horribly miscast as everyone said; I wanted her to be angrier, goddammit! Having seen the film, I think I'll commit to finishing the graphic novel.

(Last) weekend update.

I spent last weekend on Nantucket with my former roommate Kevin, and former teammate Terry (above). Besides the usual mix of sun, sand, and booze, the visit included yet another instance of my friends completing grueling athletic challenges for charity.

Since I met Kevin, he's talked about doing the Rock Run, a day-long, team run around Nantucket. This year, Kevin, his sisters, two family friends, and Terry, finally did it. Combined, they ran 50 miles, and donated $200 to Autism Speaks. I couldn't be prouder of them. My contribution to the day was some spirited clapping and a sunburn; I'm sure it made all the difference.

We also saw Kevin Spacey at a local bar that night. Sorry, Sherri Saum, you are no longer the most famous person I have shared public space with.

And finally, I deleted the "Let It Rock" post, since the video was no longer available. Sad times.

Support my bro.

My good friend, and former (tear) stroke seat/team captain, Adam Furlong, posted the following on his Facebook profile last week:

"On a whim, signed up for a 45 mile bike ride in Philly on Aug. 23rd for the LIVESTRONG Challenge. Donate money, I'm trying to get to $250."

To that I say: HELP HIM OUT. Adam is a total badass athlete, and merits the support on a personal basis, but also, it takes cash to fight cancer. Any dude willing to bike 45 miles, and raise money to save lives, deserves to meet his goal, for himself, and for all the people fighting the good fight (seriously, cancer, fuck off).

Donate here.

Recently read.

Olive Kitteridge: I liked this quite a bit. It's most definitely a short story collection; at times, Olive's presence in pieces where she isn't the protagonist feels forced. For example, in "The Piano Player," or especially "Ship in a Bottle," you could remove Olive entirely and not miss a beat. That said, her appearances in "Incoming Tide," and "Starving" were essential. I also wish Strout had included a story from Christopher's point of view, since Olive's relationship with her son proves tempestuous at best. He's just such a shit to her, and we never really understand why (though I suppose that enables us to relate all the more to Olive).

Still, this is an incredibly beautiful collection. Strout captures the intimacy of small moments, brief glances, and mundane ritual with true artistry. I had the great pleasure of meeting Elizabeth Strout about a month ago; having met her, this book makes perfect sense. She's just as slightly offbeat and endearingly human as her characters. You can tell that she knows and likes these people, even as she breaks their hearts. Strout described the book as "good sentences," and she's right, but it's also much, much more.

Naked: I don't have as much to say about this one. It's David Sedaris; either you like him, or you don't. I like him, but I don't think this was his best effort. This might be another instance where I love previous books by the author so much, that I set the bar too high (Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim). My favorite Sedaris essays usually focus on his family, with hearty doses of poignancy and self-deprecation. He achieves that here with "Ashes," and "The Women's Open," but I don't think he achieved it often enough. I usually can't put his books down; this one took me almost two months to get through. It's still David Sedaris (brilliant, biting, hysterical), but reading Naked felt like going through the motions, instead of breaking new ground.

Song for you.

I miss these people.

I saw this image at Low Resolution yesterday; I quite like it. It tells the whole story, Six and Eight and Baltar ushering in a terrifying, uncertain future; Kara and Lee opposite Laura and Bill, making home out of the space between each other. When this show was good, it was really, really good. Episodes like "Faith," "The Hub," and "No Exit" were some of the best television I've ever seen, period. The finale was awful and gross, but for the first time in a while, I can see past that to the smart, beautiful show I loved.

Good times.