Kinukitty started her monthly column by pointing at KISS lyrics and laughing.
I interviewed critic Tom Spurgeon about comics and criticism. In comments, he tells me what he really thinks of me. It’s fairly unpleasant.
Richard Cook contemplates the Ant-Man, She-Hulk, and Cable films on the way in 2013.
Art critic Bert Stabler does a guest post in which he discusses bodies, essentialism, and feminist performance art.
I review Michael Kupperman’s Tales Designed to Thrizzle.
And I talk about racism in my favorite terrifying Tintin dream sequence.
Also, we’re going to be using captcha words for comments from now on in order to try to cut down on the crazed deluge of spam. You can avoid having to type in random characters when you comment by signing up in the upper right corner of the sight.
Oh; and I’ve uploaded a classic Scandinavian black metal mix.
I talk to Bert Stabler about Kant and God and other stuff over at his blog.
Bert: A God that pursues us, that moves in and out of us, is not an abstract principle of wisdom, nor a form of primal electromagnetism, but something else that contains elements of both of those things. Our wanting and changing and experiencing and relating are the things that are most relevant to God and to faith. I’m not totally satisfied with the way Kant addresses this, but he certainly tries, and for faith after the death of God, that’s an important start.
I review a passel of reissues of Johnny Cash’s 70s albums over at Madeloud.
Still, the real standout here is the title track. Built around an irresistible banjo hook, swirling swings, and a cheesy but somehow still aching horn riff, the lyrics neatly invert the standard gotta-ramble-baby trope, as Cash laments the fact that his woman won’t stay with him. “I know she needs me about as much as I need someone else. Which I don’t,/ And I swear some day I’ll up and leave myself. Which I won’t,” he sings, with plainspoken helplessness. Cash has always had an admirable willingness to look like a fool, and here the overblown, foofy production seems to emphasize his emasculation. “I know the only reason that she ever has to leave me is she wants to.” The song is, like unequal love, both ridiculous and heartbreaking.
This is one of my favorite of Tom Crippen’s reviews so far.
Robert Boyd has some interesting speculations about the impace of criticism on theater productions embedded in an (also interesting) discussion of Jules Feiffer.