I am richer than you. I have an impossible amount of money, and before you tell me that monetary wealth means nothing in comparison to the richness of heart and experience, I assure you that I am richer in those fake ways too, so don't bother. My prosperity across all quadrants of life (including the previously unmentioned handsomeness, sexual prowess, and balance) has afforded me many luxuries to which you are no doubt unaccustomed. I, for instance, can purchase upwards of seven alcoholic drinks on a flight from Denver to Los Angeles without even asking the price. I can also slide one of my countless credit cards through the phone in the seat in front of me, and order whatever I damn well please from SkyMall before falling asleep on a tray table. These are the joys of affluence.
"Sir? You've been out for six hours. We thought we lost you."
That being the case, I recently became the proud owner of several cultural treasures only available in the illustrious SkyMall catalogue. Like most of the worldly artifacts I keep displayed in my manse, these new items have limited practical use and frequently break when I touch them. But it is not enough for me to enjoy them alone. A big part of being privileged is giving back to the community, and I have given back hard. I wrote product reviews on the SkyMall website for each of the items I purchased so that future shoppers will know exactly what they are getting. It is my gift, both to SkyMall and to you.
Sadly, as of Sunday, October 17th most of these review have been pulled from SkyMall. I'm sorry, my gift to you has been spoiled.
There are gaps in the fictional universe that multiply from one film to the next.
Most people have a pretty basic idea of what it's like to be a parent.
Given everything we know, there's cause to be worried about these movies.
There's no shortage of downright absurd conspiracy theories out there.