Scenes From The Bookpocalypse

I’m reminded of a scene on the news where a beached whale is blanketed by squalling, complaining gulls. That’s Borders. Local store got the axe. Most of the Borders in the state are done, it seems. And now it’s a carcass on the beach besieged by those who smell a cheap pop culture meal.

If My Mockingjay Don’t Sing

Finished Mockingjay. Loved Mockingjay.

But wondering: why all the middling reactions toward Mockingjay? I wouldn’t call it “hate,” exactly — but I was warned repeatedly that the third book was essentially a big disappointment from the high of the previous two.

Best. Episode. Ever.

Even the best television shows have episodes that are real stinkers — clunky junkers that don’t really feel right. But, for every shitpile episode, you also get those episodes that are truly gilded — they sit high atop a hill overlooking all of the Empire, serving as a gleaming example to what television can truly aspire.

It’s A Circus Of Pimpage!

That’s right. It’s time to pimp some folks. And no, I don’t mean, “Peddle their fishnet booties on street corners and strut around crackin’ ho’s with my death’s head cane,” I mean, “Hey, look. Awesome shit. Let me parade it before your eyes so that you may ogle the shiny goodness.” Shall we begin? Yes. Yes, we shall.

Take That Thumbs-Down & Stick It Up Your Ass: Lamenting The Loss Of The Critic

What I want to see more of are thoughtful looks at film, video games, books, whatever — critics that talk about what that piece of art and pop culture means to her and then attempt to connect it to something beyond the critic herself.