The concept of parallel universes has built-in pop-culture connotations.
“Everything we say about death is actually about life,” Kyoki Mori observes in her contribution to the new anthology “The Inevitable: Contemporary Writers Confront Death,” edited by David Shields and Bradford Morrow.
Most people know Michael Showalter from MTV’s “The State” or the 2001 summer camp parody “Wet Hot American Summer” or various other comedy collaborations with David Wain and Michael Ian Black, et al.
Johanna Adorján’s equally lovely and haunting memoir “An Exclusive Love” follows this question into an exploration of her grandparents’ enigmatic double suicide.
The first time Walter Cole put on a dress, he looked at his reflection in a full-length mirror and said, “Walter, what the hell have you done?”
Local nonprofit SCRAP (School and Community Reuse Action Project) loves to use the “re-” prefix, and they’ve earned it.
Many of our first associations with the name Mel Blanc are the cozy and simple weekend mornings of our childhoods, grounded by the familiar Technicolor images of the Warner Brothers logo.
It’s 6:30 on a Monday night, and I’m crammed into the lobby of the Bagdad Theater, standing in a line of people that snakes out the door and down the sidewalk.
Most of us—if we were lucky—were read to as children, by parents or grandparents sitting at our bedsides, lulling us into a slumber with tales of heroism or fantasy or, at the least, talking animals.
“I love pink,” said Art4Life Director Sandra Santoro, as she sat in a small kitchen off Splendorporium’s main gallery space.
Like most presidential portraits, these images are majestic and prestigious. Each president is figured in a noble stance, gazing righteously at his observer.