Flawed episodes seem to give us more discussion fodder, but maybe this will be the week of perfect and fireworksy. The WB sez:

Always a Godmother, Never a God. Missing Rory (Alexis Bledel), Lorelai (Lauren Graham) tries to call her and is upset to find that Rory’s cell phone is no longer in service. Sookie (Melissa McCarthy) asks Lorelai and Rory to be the godparents to her two children in the hope that they will reconcile when they see each other at the ceremony. However, mother and daughter end up fighting when Lorelai realizes that Rory gave her new cell number to Sookie but not to her. Logan (Matt Czuchry) learns that his father expects him to graduate this year and enter the family business. Wanting to break free from family pressures, Logan whisks Rory off to a weekend in New York.

Scott Patterson, Kelly Bishop, Keiko Agena, Yanic Truesdale and Sean Gunn also star. Robert Berlinger directed the episode written by Rebecca Rand Kirshner.

I believe they are giving more solo writing credits without a Sherman or a Palladino or a Sherman-Palladino this season, but it’d be hard for me to believe ASP is not still giving it all a polish. See you later, alligators.

To Planet or Not a Planet

From a story in today’s NYT on evolving definitions of planethood:

Not only did the panel members disagree on the definition of a planet, at last report they could not even agree, it seemed, on whether they were making progress. Within the space of a few minutes the other week, I received one e-mail message from Dr. Marsden saying he was optimistic and another from Alan Boss of the Carnegie Institution of Washington complaining that his morning e-mail gave him no sense that they were close to bringing the issue to a close.

In another e-mail message, Dr. Boss described the process as "like trying to shovel frogs into a wheelbarrow – they keep jumping out again."

Scientists are so cute when they bicker.

She Got Game: Twins

TwinsMarcy Dermansky‘s Twins is never quite what you think. At first, I worried that I was reading the literary equivalent of Thirteen. There is a voyeuristic feeling that pervades much of the book, something which almost but not quite makes for an uncomfortable sensation while reading (do I even like this? I thought at first, riveted anyway). Once the Thirteen fears had passed, I worried that that uncomfortable sensation was too similar to the one brought about by the disturbingly close first person POV in a book I’d read earlier in the year (and ultimately felt ambivalent about). I’d just finished Jeff Ford’s The Girl in the Glass, which I adored, and worried that any book I tried next would not measure up.

But then as I kept reading and kept reading and could not put the fucking book down, I stopped worrying and learned to love that odd, visceral quality, to revel in it.


Monday Hangovers

Auctorial Doppelgangers (7a)

Because I can’t resist. (Do go see the originals!)


PICTURED LEFT: Allen Ginsberg, author of Howl and many other poems.

PICTURED RIGHT: Jim Henson, Kermit’s bitch. Kidding, people, let’s try again: genius behind The Muppet Show and several other classic films and television series.

Saturday Hangovers

Feeling slightly better, good enough to spend the day writing/editing and things. Everyone who goes to see Firefly start saying what you think; I want to talk about it. (But I’m going to see it again before I post about it.) The only review I’ve read so far is Salon’s, which is right on target. If you read any other reviews worth taking a look at, drop a note in the comments.

Under The Weather

On the heels of the desperate nap need, comes a little bit of bleh. (I’m hoping it’s just a little bit, anyway. I resent the very idea of a virus snatching away my weekend.)

So now, another nap, and reading Oh Pure and Radiant Heart and trying to bypass this weather I’m under. I suggest you check out those down and to the right, and do drop in on The Elegant Variation where writer Christian Bauman (whose Voodoo Lounge is very close to the top of my TBR pile) is holding court today.

Have a good Friday.

Ways to Amuse When You Are Getting Sleepy, Very Sleepy

Wikipedia sayeth about the nap (o, longed-for nap):

or nap can refer to:

And none of it makes me less sleeeeepy. But this sleepy poem at least makes me happy.

THEY ARE COMING FOR YOU, Pt. 2 (updated)

First giant squids, now zombies:

There has been a small outbreak of “zombism” in a small town near the border of Laos in North-Eastern Cambodia.

The culprit was discovered to be mosquitoes native to that region carrying a new strain of Malaria which thus far has a 100 percent mortality rate and kills victims in fewer than 2 days.

After death, this parasite is able to restart the heart of its victim for up to two hours after the initial demise of the person where the individual behaves in extremely violent ways from what is believed to be a combination of brain damage and a chemical released into blood during “resurrection.”

(Thanks, Melissa!)

Updated: By the way, April Fool’s! I got you early this year. (Actually, I’m completely gullible and believe anything that looks vaguely like a news story that is emailed to me. But I still love this story.)

Thursday Hangovers