Real Sitcoms: Perfect Strangers Part I

Ah, sitcoms. That little half-hour slice of conflict, comedy and resolution. They're as American as hot dogs and birth control. As a product of Reaganomics, with both parents working, I was more or less raised by TV. And I turned out TV. It was TV that taught me that any situation can be handled with a perfectly timed one-liner and a knowing wink to the audience. TV encouraged me to pursue whatever crazy get rich quick scheme I hatched that particular week. What harm could there be? At the very worst I'd be back where I started from, but richer for having gone through the experience and wacky mishaps.

Life, however, is a cock block of imagination. Like the fat friend that ain't getting any, it likes to interject itself where it doesn't belong. And now, the real world (no Miz) has gone back in time and rubbed its greasy, smelly paws all over our favorite TV shows.

In the first of an ongoing series, I present: Real Versions Of Sitcoms: Perfect Strangers.

IWISYDHT: Confessions Of A Superhero

There is not one American child who grew up wanting to be something other than a superhero at some point in their childhood. Most of us grew out of that fantasy when we realized how impractical codpieces were. Others carried it on, and are known as LARPers, or Live Action Role Players. LARPers are the creepy guys at the park that make the guy in the trench coat with candy seem like a good babysitter.

And still others, such as those featured in Matt Ogens' fascinating documentary Confessions of a Superhero, found a way to make money pretending to be superheroes. At least on the outside, anyway.

This Is Not About Amy Winehouse

I lied. It kinda is. At least, as a jumping off point. As everyone (except, as it seems, her father, which is incredibly sad) knows, Amy Winehouse died today at age 27. It took less than a tenth of a second for the "OMG JIMI, JANIS, MORRISON, KURT NOW AMY" tweets. This was immediately followed by the inevitable jokes, of which I supplied my fair share. It's not out of any malice or joy in her death. It's just...what I do. If I could explain it, I probably wouldn't do it.

There are a lot of separate points to this post, one not necessarily having anything to do with the next. So I'll attempt to address each individually.

Are You There, Sylis? It's Me, God.

 

Note: I've started writing this post in some form or another several times over the last few weeks. They were all scrapped due to my utter inarticulate...ness? Here goes nothing.

It's the oldest question in the world: is there a God? Should god be capitalized? Does he care? Or, should I ask if she cares? Would he/she care if his/her name was capitalized? After all, if you're god, I think you'd be accomplished enough to not worry about the semantics of your name when it's printed on The Watchtower. If there is a god, he/she is definitely Anti-Semantic. Deal with it.

I'm always up for a good debate. And this is probably the best one you can have. But it seems people are incapable of using the rational brain that god allegedly gave them when it comes to discussing that very god.

My Dinner With Steven

They say you should never meet your heroes. Chances are they'll destroy whatever preconceived notion you have of them. Being that I'm a fan of comedy, I had no such fear when I intrepidly tweeted Steven Weber the other night.

IWISYDHT: Playing For Keeps (1986)

Playing For Keeps (1986)

I'm a sucker for teen movies. Horror, comedy, drama, it really doesn't matter. Because, you see, the vast majority are written by people so far removed from their own teenage years, and even further removed from what current teenagers find relevant. Unintentional hilarity is sure to abound.

Playing For Keeps is a recently discovered gem, lost amongst its more highly regarded 1980s teen comedy brethren.

Album Review: The Silversmiths "A Tandem Of Giants"

The Silversmiths

"A Tandem Of Giants"

Rappers are not social creatures. They are, by and large, insecure, defensive, greedy monsters who will die before giving another rapper time to shine on their song. This mentality makes two MC rap groups the equivalent of a circus side show attraction. It's usually one MC clearly out classing the other, while neither has the space to do his thing the way they would on a solo song. Groups like Organized Konfusion and OutKast managed the delicate balance of featuring each rapper's strengths, while truly complementing each other's style.

The Silversmiths have done their homework on these blueprints and their latest album, "A Tandem Of Giants", is the fruit of that labor.