It’s as if somebody took the headlines about Anonymous, cooked them in a spoonful of heroin, and bludgeoned the whole mess with a pillowcase full of bars of soap rendered from the body fat of the rich and famous.
A miscellany of random thoughts, geekery, reviews and other mysterious stuff careening around my addled brain.
It’s like Daredevil is Jimmy Fallon: He’s not quite as funny Jimmy Kimmel, doesn’t have near the game of Craig Ferguson, but he’s got a lot of intriguing friends that stop by.
It’s like when your Grandpa farts at the dinner table while saying grace. You just let it slide. Grace ain’t a laughing matter. And, I mean, it’s gross, but you love the ol’ guy and he can’t help it.
Imagine if the media celebrated the lives of the victims in a tragedy instead of putting a microscope on the killer. If the media didn’t print or quote the killer’s manifestos…