Kept TCM on most of yesterday; watched Mildred Pierce (which I love, although I've never been able to figure out how Veda came to be such a class-obsessed hosebeast in the first place, since neither of her parents were), slept through Grand Hotel, to my great regret, and then watched Camille and the end of Kitty Foyle. At some point a movie about Woody Guthrie was on--made in the '70s--that involved a lot of punching and guitars. At one point, they punched a guitar. I'm not even making this up. And it just got more '70s from there, so I turned off the TV and tried to read more of The Victorian Underworld. And then Shelby sat on my head. And then I took that giant purple bath I mentioned, and Scout licked my ear the whole time. And now I've got a million billion emails and RSS feeds to check. So... linkspam's not going up today, let's put it that way.
But, from the NYT: Is the writers' strike over? No, for real this time? For really real? Shows that could start up production again this season.