I’m a semi-novice at many things. Within the past few years, I’ve become more and more of a semi-novice Luddite. I’ll often see some new piece of technology, with buttons and a screen of some sort, and be absolutely smitten.

I had always wanted to read Stephen King’s Cell.  Despite the intriguing central concept of cell phones turning people into zombies, I somehow never took the plunge and bought it.  This is probably due to the fact that the book was slightly larger than most paperbacks, which, I am convinced, was done solely to artificially inflate the price of the book. So I was quite excited when my editor, the living breathing anachronism, plopped an audio version of it onto my desk. 1
“Kid,” he said, a lit cigarette dangling from …

The audience is made up of equal parts leather-clad true believers, college-age hipsters, and, like me, cinematic onlookers hoping for a once-in-a-lifetime multimedia experience.  I’d never heard of the Canadian hard rockers Anvil, but since the unveiling of the sweetly-titled documentary, Anvil! The Story of Anvil, at Sundance in 2008, buzz had been mounting.  I frequently check this particular theater’s online listings, never knowing when a special event may appear, and tonight I’ve hit the jackpot:  Anvil itself is going to be at this midnight showing, thrashing through what could …

Recently, a good friend of mine started on the quest that many, if not most of us will face in our lifetimes — one which sadly involves neither dragons nor magic rings; he set out on a diet in order to lose weight for a quality-of-life bump. His weapon of choice: a free SparkPeople diet plan, complete with a weekly routine of core-strengthening exercises.  One evening as we poured over the daily statistics, the tabulated calories, grams of fat and sodium tracked in several neat line-graphs, I recognized that he …

Though something of a nostalgia trip, Adventureland never falls into the traps of over romanticizing or sentimentalizing a bygone era. Inspired by the events of his own post-adolescence in the 1980s, Greg Mottola writes and directs this surprisingly tender film about confused and loveless young adults. Though beginning on a similar note as many films of its type — a party where the protagonist, James, is introduced as a virgin — the film takes an unusual path from there. He returns home to find out his summer plans are dashed …

Paul Blart: Mall Cop is a star vehicle for a man who’s not really a movie star; it’s a comedy with a slack pace and PG-rated sense of humor. It doesn’t go for the gut, the nuts, or the intellect. It’s just sort of there to vaguely amuse, perhaps entertain. Certainly, it gives you someplace to go in the midwinter doldrums. I could curl up with a stupid movie at home, or I could get out and see a stupid movie at the cinema. Why not the latter?

My queue is pimp.
I understand that such a statement is highly subjective, but it’s true. If we were in the fifth grade, on a playground, my queue could beat up your queue . It didn’t get that way over night, though.  No. Hell no. There were hours, days, WEEKS of hardcore training and tweeking to get it as pimp as it is. It’s like the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team. Or the Mighty Ducks. It’s actually more like the Mighty Ducks. With Air Bud as their center. Not that either …