AGORA eu me sinto velho: minha tatuagem completou dez anos.

Monica Rambeau is a veteran super hero previously known as Captain Marvel, whose mother always wanted her to get a proper job. So she joined H.A.T.E.

When her mother died, she went to Hell, and is used as a bucket by giant weasels dressed as cheerleaders. And that's what happens when you tell your kids to get a proper job.

De Nextwave, novo gibi MASSA do Warren Ellis.

Fiction and graphic fiction shouldn’t be in competition, as there are things that only Ware can give us and others that he can never give us, that only the novelist could offer. The danger is that comics, with their new and hard-won prestige, will begin to force novelistic ideas into panels and word bubbles too cramped for such usage—and that novels, already anxious about their worth, will try to transport the comic’s rendering onto pages that ought to have inward, not outward depth. We’ll never see the effusive, dithering pronouncements of the mind given the depth in a comic that they can be afforded in a book, which is good—to attempt it would ruin the comic. Some ideas and emotions can only be told in stories through indirectness and aside, ruminations and the illusion of time unique to the printed page. The novel is still the only way to assay everything too vast and equivocal to be reduced to pure symbol and formulation. It ought to be groping with those mysteries that can’t be handled elsewhere.

Aqui.

What kind of demented geniuses could shift from spirited jokes to snide remarks to solemn pronouncements, all the while knowing that the fate of the free world rests in their hands?

A Salon publica os textos que eu nunca vou ter cacife suficiente para escrever sobre The West Wing. A frase aí de cima resume tudo que a série tinha de bom - e de ruim. Mas aí é que está: mesmo a parte ruim, por ser implausível e over-otimista, era fantástica (ou, pelo menos, catártica). West Wing é genial.

West Wing vai acabar. A próxima temporada de Família Soprano será a última. Six Feet Under já acabou.

Então, basicamente, só tenho gostado de séries moribundas. O bom é que estou atrasado, e ainda tenho anos inteiros delas para assistir.

O Belle & Sebastian lançou CD novo. 24 Horas começou temporada nova, com quatro episódios na colada. A Amazon finalmente entregou o livro que pedi em julho (e que é fantabuloso). Terminei e depositei minha dissertação. E é meu aniversário!

Ou seja, 2006 finalmente começou. Feliz ano novo!