Happy equinox! I had my first kiss on this day, a long time ago. Felt a bit like falling down. (If I only knew....)

In light of the Angel Season 6 announcement, I was going to write a lengthy rant about the destruction of narrative complexity inherent in continuing the Angel storyline beyond the last moments of "Not Fade Away,"... but this guy beat me to it. And beat me soundly: that's one of the best analyses of the inherent problems with a fanbase that I've ever read. The key line being, "an inability to admit the structural requirements of the story." Which I am using slightly out of context, but should probably become the dictionary definition of "fan," or at least "fan in the 21st century." An inperturbably selfish, whiny little brat with no line of insight into the actual structures that made the thing they so adore, so adorable. Fuck Angel Season 6. We are into the dark times of narrative.

This is a good example of what I mean when I say the death of Captain America doesn't "mean anything." Ironically, it also lines into why I won't get with Facebook.

Something I become increasingly aware of year by year is the degree to which I am becoming an old person. There's the "way things should be" and the "way these kids today are now" and the widening gulf between the two, armed and enhanced by the growing awareness that I am presiding over the deaths of my favourite art forms. Which is utterly conceited nonsense, of course; the art forms aren't dying, they're just changing, and if (from my vantage) they're changing to the worse ([cough] 300 [ cough]), then the next generation of people like me will still call this the golden age, and only rail against whatever the next iteration after this one might be. Actually, the words that ring truer and truer by the day belong to none other than Abraham J. Simpson:

"I used to be with it. Then they changed what 'it' was. Now what I'm with isn't it, and what is it seems weird and scary to me."

It is indeed the vernal equinox, an occasion which marks only the state of being exactly in the middle of two more interesting occasions.