From the Jill Schwartz Memorial Library, here in the wilds of Connecticut, this is obscure

season 2, Frankenstein.

I am your friend, your host, your earlover, your literary mansplainer in chief, your soon-to-be

Georgianologist, Michael Ian Black.

I watched a Frankenstein movie two nights ago, a sci-fi thing in Magigi Bob, called The

Titan, starring, gee, I do not know who, but, you know, some actors, and it was okay.

It's about a group of earthlings, really about one earthling, who is transformed through

the power of science to be able to inhabit Saturn's moon of Titan because the earth has been

so degraded that humanity is looking for a new home.

It wasn't great, like I said, but it was Frankensteinian because the whole premise is they're

using science to make this man into something of an ubermensch, a superman, and his wife is

in on it, and the scientist is in on it, the kids in on it, everybody's all in on this

guy, and his friends going to save humanity, and through the power of science.

But you know, there are unforeseen consequences as these things often go.

Unforeseen consequences are always the order of the day when we launch into a new season

of obscure.

We are most of the way through our second season, I think, but unforeseen consequences

rear their head.

Again, the latest in my life, as you know, is COVID leading to my move to Sane Sabana.

I'm dismantling the Jill Schwartz Memorial Library today.

One of the things that we have agreed, my dear wife Martha and I, is that we are going

to do as little work as possible in terms of packing up the house.

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