Consider the words of the late Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet — it's "fuck Heineken — Pabst Blue Ribbon" all the way.

As album titles go, Avant Gold is pretty on-the-nose for a band like Ryat.

'Twas a stink pit and all those who sailed her should be glad she died an unceremonious death.

The last 12 months have been challenging for Theatre Exile

You've been so cooped up by winter's chill that you're absolutely thrilled by anything summery.

You haven't had much chance to miss Ed Rendell. He just won't go away.

When it comes to theater of the absurd, Idiopathic Ridiculopathy Consortium has it covered.

Are you a Wing Bowl guy, frothing at the mouth for Feb. 4's bash at the WFC? Step away from the column.

There's a hush to Colm Tóibín's work that is most noticeable in his devilish details.

The Times came off a bit like Ricky Gervais at the Golden Globes, making backdated lock-up/rehab jokes about Robert Downey Jr. Philly's well past that headline.