Film critic Sean T. Collins sat down and wrote about Road House (1989) every single day for a calendar year - essays, poems, lyrics, meditations, whatever came out when he sat down that day. I love projects that double as feats of endurance, where you see an artist’s creative energy ebb and flow on certain days, or trace their descent into madness from, say, Day 7 (“I have a lot of thoughts about Road House”) to Day 207 (“my God, my God, what else is there to possibly say about Road House”).
See Also: Worst Idea of All Time podcast, Time Trabble by Mikey Heller
I recently learned about this completely sincere ode to David Duchovny in the X-Files from singer-songwriter Bree Sharp. It’s silly but also a very representative cross-section of 90s pop-rock. High karaoke potential
