December 11, 2008
My Inaugural Self-Indulgent Top Ten, 2008 edition: 1. Barack 2. The Record Player as birthday gift (Dora the cat doesn’t seem to give a shit about it, though I have caught her almost touch the needle mid-spin) 3. The mustache I wore for 2 months 4. Nathan Rabin’s writing on The Onion AV Club. The author of deliciously profane quips, not like Gawker/Wonkette/Jezebel, who specialize in making readers feel bad about themselves through sanctimony and sarcasm. I’ve grown tired of the internet (that goes for you, too, Pitchfork) 5. Dark Knight, mostly because of Heath as Joker/terrorist. Looking for the humanity in his performance was like staring into a tar pit to find hope. He fits right along side DDL in Gangs of NY insofar as both transform the human body into a fleshy tool for Brechtian alienation (n.b. - just wanted to use “Brechtian” in apposite manner) 6. Steely Dan, Aja. Hereby nominated for perfect album. Ranks next to Ram and There’s a Riot Goin’ On and Stage Fright. Do I have a ’70s thing?  7. The trailer for The Strangers. Though I haven’t seen the film, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched the preview. Is that Joanna Newsom skipping on the record? I wish I were more in to horror movies 8. Charles Nègre and my research in Paris. Booooorrrriiiing but true 9. Melissa Dean, Second Nature, Peter Miller Gallery. That’s right I said it. She’s my ladyfriend! What do you care? 10. How I Met Your Mother. If only for Jason Segel and Neil Patrick Harris

My Inaugural Self-Indulgent Top Ten, 2008 edition:

1. Barack

2. The Record Player as birthday gift (Dora the cat doesn’t seem to give a shit about it, though I have caught her almost touch the needle mid-spin)

3. The mustache I wore for 2 months

4. Nathan Rabin’s writing on The Onion AV Club. The author of deliciously profane quips, not like Gawker/Wonkette/Jezebel, who specialize in making readers feel bad about themselves through sanctimony and sarcasm. I’ve grown tired of the internet (that goes for you, too, Pitchfork)

5. Dark Knight, mostly because of Heath as Joker/terrorist. Looking for the humanity in his performance was like staring into a tar pit to find hope. He fits right along side DDL in Gangs of NY insofar as both transform the human body into a fleshy tool for Brechtian alienation (n.b. - just wanted to use “Brechtian” in apposite manner)

6. Steely Dan, Aja. Hereby nominated for perfect album. Ranks next to Ram and There’s a Riot Goin’ On and Stage Fright. Do I have a ’70s thing? 

7. The trailer for The Strangers. Though I haven’t seen the film, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched the preview. Is that Joanna Newsom skipping on the record? I wish I were more in to horror movies

8. Charles Nègre and my research in Paris. Booooorrrriiiing but true

9. Melissa Dean, Second Nature, Peter Miller Gallery. That’s right I said it. She’s my ladyfriend! What do you care?

10. How I Met Your Mother. If only for Jason Segel and Neil Patrick Harris

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