This streetcar pauses, yes it does, in fond remembrance of Forrest J. Ackerman: publisher, memorabilia collector and the only man in history capable of wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a set of fake Vampire choppers, while losing not a speck of credibility in the process. He was a true renaissance man . . . possibly the only interesting one in the last fifty years . . . and an even more genuine ecumenist of film. It is much more a comment on the times than on the man that he will no doubt be missed in some segments far less than he deserves.
"You put some chords together, and you like the way it sounds. It means something to you. It's always therapy, but it doesn't solve anything. It's making wishes. It's like hoping the world's flat, hoping there's a heaven. You got your vest on, you're walking up to the crowd, you're getting ready to blow yourself up." -- Emitt Rhodes