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All this spring, my son Connor and I have been watching of the original Star Trek on Netflix. Connor likes the original shows almost as much as The Next Generation, and even I find myself getting caught up in some of the more classic episodes like Space Seed (the one with Khan). I also really like the pilot, The Cage.
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This Thursday will mark the six-year anniversary of Chris Cornell’s death, and I am still pretty messed up about it. Apparently, his friend Alice Cooper referred to him as “The Voice,” a moniker that, as some students of pop culture might recall, was also given to Frank Sinatra, back in his day. It makes sense.
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I am continually amazed at how, even in my advanced middle-age, I still encounter perfectly reasonable words that I have never seen before. The latest is panentheism, which I ran into while reading an article on my favorite theological scholar, David Bentley Hart. When I first saw the word, I read it out loud to
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What the River Buries by Rocky Hirajeta My rating: 5 of 5 stars Two mysteries lie at the heart of Rocky Hirajeta’s fine novel. The first regards the identity of a killer, whom the protagonist, high school senior Natalie, witnesses disposing of a body in the river. But there is a deeper one, too, concerning
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I’m only ten years late to the party, but I’ve just started watching the BBC series Shetland. Based on the mystery novels by Ann Cleeves (which I guess I’ll have to read now), the stories are smart, suspenseful, and engrossing. The acting is also first-rate. But what really makes the show stand out is its
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In keeping with my previous post about Voyager 2 getting a new lease on life, I thought I’d write one about a moment when an old band (well, old by pop standards) made an incredible comeback. Duran Duran, those darlings of the early days of MTV, did it in 1993 with the song Come Undone,
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If there’s one kind of story I’m a sucker for, it’s the has-been-makes-a-comeback. You know the formula: a once-great hero (i.e. athlete/cop/musician/artist) is down on his luck. They’re disrespected, lonely, and all but forgotten. But then, with the help of a much younger and optimistic (or older and wiser) companion, the hero gets a burst
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Well, another summer is about to begin, and, once again, I don’t plan on seeing any of the summer “blockbusters” that are coming out. I just can’t work up much enthusiasm for the big summer debut. The problem is that now, in my 50s, I have seen so many movies that I recognize the same
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One of my favorite sites on the internet is openculture.com. As the name implies, it’s a curated collection of the best permanently free culture on the web, from free college courses, movies, images, audiobooks, and history lessons. Here’s a recent post that I found weirdly fascinating. It’s about how the ancient Romans had fewer cavities
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As I get older (and older), I begin to suspect that I will, eventually, become nostalgic about literally everything in my past. Right now, I am feeling nostalgic for old TV commercials. If you grew up in the 1970s and 80s, like me, you watched a lot of TV commercials. Like, thousands and thousands. And
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Ash Clifton, Writer 