To you, pratfalls are sense unspooled. To me, slapstick is the purest art. To you, fol-de-rol is for child or fool. To me, I am the idiot at its heart.
To the girls you left behind you were everything; swoon-bait, boy soldier, young love whose smile broke hearts ninety-nine ways. read about Tab Hunter here
On the edge of forever is a city of gold and glass, though it is founded on pulped fictions and the girders of your imagination. Read about Harlan Ellison here
Sometimes the script leaves the door ajar for unlikely resurrections. A weighted soul sinks into a canal, and everything is murk and ripples. Read more about Leslie Grantham
Do you remember the first time? The thrill of someone’s surrender to the kiss, or the kill? It bonds me to forever; indelible, uneditable, still. read about Eunice Gayson here
Your canvasses, - footsteps in dust, blue globe on a gold-leaf visor - stretch 240,000 miles, hang in the galleries of our future. read more about Alan Bean here
It’s the talk of the day room; you and McMurphy - not gone upstairs but together in escape. It’s easier than you think, Chief. Read about MiloÅ¡ Forman here
7am. Roll call. Anyone seen Bochco? No one’s seen Bochco. Downtown, asleep in a dumpster or hustling undercover, too Street to be sweet, always careful out there. Read about Steven Bochco here
Europe awaits you, its forêts and Straßen trembling in tulle, organza. Et maintenant les votes du jury Élysian. Can you hear me Élysia? read about Katie Boyle here