It was also a year I devoted an undue amount of energy trying to track how I found myself trailing so far behind anything that could be broadly considered as . . . well, relevant. Here is just one example, but I won’t link to the others. I won’t delete them either — they remain a testament to the times and to my headspace at this particular moment, I guess. But when it comes to what I posted it wasn’t as if mine was a singular POV — many others said the same thing, only better. And that is personally disappointing. I’ve blogged for 15 years and counting. When I’m not linking to other pieces I truly attempt to post original work — stuff I’m not seeing anywhere else. 2018 sometimes reads as if I gave up on this loftiest of aspirations.
|There were other vistas to conquer.|
- Roy Orbison: Black & White Night was a treat to discover.
- The Rhino reissue of T Bone Burnett’s Trap Door/Proof Through The Night records was a balm.
- Dan Baird & Homemade Sin were killer.
- What four films define me? (No, really.)
- You want evidence that I was struggling in '18? Solo was the only movie I bothered to blog about.
- That’s what this blog is about — sez so right there on the masthead. So I commented on MSM coverage of my misbehaving Paraguayan brethren and sisteren.
- RIP, William Goldman — master of the airport thriller (my personal favourite from 2018).
- A Wrinkle In Time, Madeleine L’Engle, and Great (readerly) Expectations.
- Re-essaying Groovy Gurus.
- In praise of podcasts — particularly as embodied by the Christian Humanists.
- Puppet Uprising — now more than ever.
- Justin Sandercoe took on a student — and prompted me to write a fan letter.
- Facebook sucks — do you have a newsletter?