Every few years a film comes along, inspired by real events, that makes me ask the question, “Why don’t I already know this?” Sometimes a real life story can be so unusual, so inspiring, so unexpected that it seems as if it should be common knowledge. This year seems to be a particularly strong year [...]

Rhombus’ resident film critic Jordan Petersen reveals his top ten movies of 2010 — along with a smorgasbord of other year-end lists that will make your head spin. They’re all here: the good (and the really good), the bad (and the really bad), and the ugly (and yes, even the really, really ugly — after all, it’s Hollywood.)

The arc of history does not bend toward justice as promptly as I and many others would like, but with the repealing of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell we have witnessed an event that people will refer back to far into the future as a moment when things changed for the better.

Last week marked 30 years since the passing of music icon John Lennon. At the risk of writing something like a themed paper (probably entitled “What John Lennon’s music means to me”), it would be a big oversight to let this anniversary pass by without some reflection.

Have you ever wondered why some individuals in a relationship resemble each other?

Biologically speaking, people have a tendency to be more attracted to someone with similar phenotypes. When someone ends up with a person who looks like they could be long-lost-siblings, it is called phenotypic matching (or arguably, just plain narcissism.)

I assumed that Community would never make it. I wondered why Joel McHale would take a character role, being as great as he already was on The Soup. I remembered the ill-fated shows NBC had previously tried to place with the big boys in the Thursday night line-up. Come to think of it, I don’t remember those. I guess that proves my point.

But like all those sad sitcoms of yore, I gave it one deciding view. I was impressed. And I’ve only been increasingly impressed with each episode since. As cliché or absurd as it may be to call 30 minutes of television revolutionary, I just can’t help myself. Community deserves it.

You’ve taken part in this argument before. It’s everywhere. You can’t avoid it.

A decade ago, it was even somewhat enjoyable. We would analyze the stats like pundits, spout our opinions, and fantasize about the hypothetical. How would one of these non-BCS schools do against the big kids? Do non-BCS schools belong in the championship picture?

There was no way Conan could live up to its hype.

The NBC late-night debacle of January 2010 needs no introduction, and that alone would have been enough to build insurmountable anticipation for tonight’s premiere. But Conan O’Brien and his loyal, sometimes rabid, fan base built Conan (the show, not the man) into something far larger. Over the course of the last nine months, Conan (the man) became what more than a few news outlets have called America’s 21st Century folk hero.

The shot cut to a couple pairs of feet on a bed. Seductively, the camera panned up the taut legs, past the titillatingly short cheerleading skirts, up an arched back. Finally, it rested on the faces of two ultra-fine cheerleaders. Oh, and they were making out, more or less.

As an aspiring anthropologist, I do not believe in the Western notion of sustainable romantic love. (Cynical much? Maybe, but that’s another story.)