Last night I scared my wife telling her about the horror movie I’m outlining. She couldn’t sleep; I felt bad. But that’s not the scariest story I know. The scariest story I know starts like this:

As in Rush Limbaugh.

Rarely is very much new.

This one hurts. It’s not that they’re making a Jeff Buckley movie, nor that they’re making two – but it’s that one of them is the movie I always imagined.

When I see a bankster shilling on the teevee for his crime boss overlords’ right to break laws, I think about Robert Penn Warren’s image of the clammy, sad little fetus that cowers inside industrialists:

this is something i keep wanting to quote:

Soulless Cultural Wasteland ‘On The Grow’ In Southern California Desert

Los Angeles to Be Hellish Megalopolis by 1950

Something about Alberto Gonzalez and James Comey made me think of this scene from A Man for All Seasons. Who would Sir Thomas More be?

ALICE – He is! Arrest him!

MARGARET – Father, that man’s bad.

Thank you, Paul.