Huzzah to any who still stops by. I’m blogging Ebertfest again this year, and would welcome your eagle eyes. And stop back. Who knows? I may just have something to say again soon. Spring thaws even the most frozen of writers.
Yes, yes, it’s been forever and a day since I last posted and my excuses include the classic Rosmanic litany of funerals, flu, and felled hearts (true, true, and true!), but this is what I request — nay, command of thee:
Please do not mention the Wire finale to yours truly until Wednesday, March 12.
This is when Jostle, Kristal and I plan to reunite for the last, precious 90 minutes of what has been and will remain the greatest show to ever grace (my especially) small screen. The newsroom scenes were as unnecessarily expository as the rest of The Wire never was, but the season’s penultimate episode pretty much saved the series, its soul, my faith. RIP Omar, RIP Snoop, RIP hoppers everywhere. Now zip them lips — for now.