Notes from a bibliophile

October had a lot of amazing shows that came out, and I was able to catch quite few of the that I had wanted to watch. November appears to be a much quieter month, but there’s still a few things I hope to be able to see. First off, on November 3rd (or November 2nd if you have advance tickets) is Thor: Ragnarok . I’m obscenely excited for this. The trailer I’ve linked here is the first I’ve seen with Korg. Reviews have been really good, and it’s been called one of the funniest Marvel movies in a while. I think that’s excellent! I’ve been excited since the first strains of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” came blasting out of my speakers months ago. This looks like such a kick-ass film, and I bought my tickets last month for a 7:45 viewing on the 2nd. This is the earliest I’ve ever seen a film. I hate crowds but for Thor (and Loki), I’m going to brave it. Also on November 3rd, over on Netflix, there’s a Margaret Atwood adaptation called Alias Grace . It’s a fictionalization of the tru

The thoughts start to weigh her down again. They come from nowhere sometimes. A song on the radio, an offhand remark, something she read on Twitter. Suddenly sadness overwhelms her, but on the outside you'd never know. At least she hopes you'll never know. She's always felt alone in the world. Like it twirls around her, mocking her, in some sort of dance, while she stands there wishing she could belong. But she gets passed over too much to feel like she can belong. It was always like this. Her father drove into her that children should be seen and not heard. Now she feels she's neither. Can a person actually be invisible? There have been times she's wondered if she was. She knows there have been times her voice has been drowned out by the crowd. By the time she has found a place to say what she wanted to say, the conversation has changed. So what's the point in trying to talk? She's even afraid to say things on Twitter. People say the craziest things on

Tonight the Astros begin playing the L.A. Dodgers for the World Series. You can’t imagine what this means to Houston. We are perennial also-rans in the sports world. To have a team in the ultimate showdown is nothing short of miraculous.  I’ve lived in Houston all my life. My dad was a big fan of football and baseball, and only slightly interested in basketball. Every year I had to listen to every man in my family talk about how this was “their year.” Sometimes they were right because there was a line drawn through my family between Houston fans and Dallas fans. Oh, the quarrels that ensued. But every year, the Houston teams failed to make it “their year.”  It wasn’t for lack of trying. I remember one year, listening to an Oilers game, back with Bum Phillips as coach and Earl Campbell as running back. The announcers talked about how the defense was one of the best in the league, and how strange it was that they had never won. The same with baseball. I can’t tell you the number

Every now and then a show comes along that's so original it stands out like a rare gem from the muck of the rehashed shows around it. Those viewers that are lucky enough to find it are amazed at how no one else seems to get it . You cheer the little guy on but watch in dismay as it inevitably sinks beneath the mire. Pushing Daisies is one of those shows. Everything about it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. I don't know how so few people found this show, but those who did praise it to the skies, and for good reason. Created by Bryan Fuller, it is the story of Ned (Lee Pace) who, as a young boy, discovers that he has the ability to bring dead things back to life, first his dog Digby, then his mother. Like with all good things, though, there are consequences. He tragically discovers that if the person (or creature) stays alive for longer than a minute, someone else in close proximity has to die. By unwittingly letting his mom stay alive, his best friend and childhood c