AatomBomb

ChristIsRisen...AndHungry

Best name for Easter ever, courtesy of my friend Rami: Night of the Living Dead. I think it captures the slightly ghoulish nature of celebrating the story of a misunderstood deity climbing out of a tomb to find his Father.

Meanwhile, a supernatural woman that I spent an inordinate amount of time reading and obsessing over as a child has proven to be rather blandly human after all. Anne Rice, who came closer than anyone else to making me believe in something beyond this world, has suffered from a terribly predictable mid-life spiritual reversion, literally and figuratively departing her holy stomping ground of New Orleans to spread the word of said dead prodigal son. It kind of sucks, if you will forgive the vampiric phrasing.

I spent yesterday with the boyfriend's extended family out in the woods of New Jersey. Rocco was a dream, and made the three of us seem like the most stable family unit there, oddly enough. Everyone was very sweet to me, though, which was greatly appreciated, and there was just enough redneck culture present to make me feel like I was actually home.

So Hoppy Easter, everyone! And if you see any undead hippies wandering around, be nice to them, just in case.

RockOn

I am retarded for the sitcom 30 Rock.  When it debuted, I absorbed the first several episodes with a religious fervor, mostly because I work across the street, and even after a decade of living in the center of the universe I still get a provincial rush when I see my world on TV.  Strangely enough, I got the same rush even when I lived in Virginia, watching Letterman.  Like the transgendered, I knew I was born into the wrong casing, and yearned to finally return home to a place I only really knew through a series of Top Ten lists. 

After the third episode, I was hooked for a different reason.  This shit was good.  Tightly written in the trendy reality-esque style that was taken to illogical extremes by Larry David, this meta-meta comedy about the life of a remarkable, scrappy writer named Tina Lemon not only entertained in a major way, it resonated quite loudly for anyone who lives The Life in midtown, and I would imagine even outside the confines of our insular universe that trounces through the global landscape like a self-absorbed Godzilla.  Kenneth the NBC page is reason enough to watch.

So, it is rather exciting to see that they have been picked up for a second season, because the show just keeps getting better.  It's no surprise to me that the ratings story is rather weak, even devoted fans like me are downloading it on iTunes.  It's a good sign that the Donaghy's of the world are finally starting to see past the raw numbers to champion a bit of quality in a world that could sorely use a little.  And is it just me, or has Alec Baldwin made a giant creative leap forward, in a medium that is more commonly known for nursing has-beens?