Articles by Jacob Lambert

February 11, 2015

Yet Again, I Ask: Are Picture Books Leading Our Children Astray? 1

I’ve recently discovered that the polluted river of wicked picture books has been flowing as strongly as ever. A new crop of titles has until now escaped my benevolent gaze — and in so doing, have tainted our tots with narratives of untold madness and perfidy.

December 17, 2011

A Year in Reading: Jacob Lambert 2

I felt utterly rabbit-punched. It was the only book I’ve ever read that betrayed me in such a way — like finding that your cousin’s hilarious web video was directed by Adam McKay.

September 22, 2011

The Greatest Story Ever Drawn 4

Despite my initial skepticism, I’m not sure that I’ve read a better graphic novel.

September 8, 2011

Star Wars, Apatow, and the Death of Classic Comedy 2

Judd Apatow and friends, with their hyper-familiar brand of hairy-assed humor, have issued a crushing blow to the suspension of disbelief — and made the gap between old comedy and new unbridgeable.

May 10, 2011

The Dog Massage 3

I am an old dog, yes, but like to think that I’m open to new tricks.

May 5, 2011

Requiem for a Video Store 9

By the latter half of the decade the slide was irreversible: if Blockbuster had been injurious, Netflix was a cancer.  And so was On Demand, Hulu, and the thousand other ways we now put stories before our eyes.

November 24, 2010

The Hot Stove Report: A Parody 3

Now that the 2010 season has ended, it’s time to look at the off-season transactions that will shape next year’s division rivalries and pennant races.  Here, then, are a few of baseball’s most notable available free agents.

October 30, 2010

If You Don’t Read “Cul de Sac,” You Really Probably Should 1

The comic is vibrant, warm, and beautifully drawn; unlike its staggering peers, it’s outrageously alive.

October 22, 2010

The Paper-Reader’s Dilemma 19

You love your books, with their meaning and their warmth, but you’re not some weepy sap.

September 28, 2010

T-Shirts I Have Known 4

Remembering vanished shirts is a somewhat wistful thing. Each one means so much, yet each will disappear.