A NATION TURNS ITS LONELY EYES TO YOU, RIP TAYLOR: So we received Lucy's end-of-year progress report from kindergarten today, and in terms of the social skills sense of humor is no longer being described as "sarcastic" but instead as "zany." Zany. What an odd word. (As Jen said, it's almost like they called her "madcap.") Zaniness is a comedic concept one associates with Harpo Marx, Spike Jones, Jim Carrey during his In Living Color years, early Howie Mandel, the Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker films and, of course, the subject of this post's title.

But it's hard for me to think of someone whose comedy today I'd describe as zany. Any thoughts?

NOW YOU SEE IT: As part of my continuing mission to see things that a lot of people see, but that we've never blogged about here, I DVRed both episodes of The Mentalist that aired this week. And honestly, I still don't get it. There are a bunch of similarities to Castle--cocky outsider uses his special skills/knowledge to help cops solve crimes and clashes with his "by the book" partner. The couple of episodes I've seen arguably have better mystery elements than Castle typically does, but suffer from the same problem Castle does in that every character aside from the lead is little more than a cipher, though they're given more to do than the Castle ensemble is. The other problem is the sexual tension and chemistry between Fillion/Katic is much better than the Baker/Tunney chemistry and tension--also, the Castle writers are much better at writing snappy dialogue for their hero. Mentalist also replaces the comic family stuff Castle does so well with a broody, yet uninteresting, backstory for its hero. It fits in well with CBS's lineup of seemingly endlessly interchangable crime shows, though, so I can see where it comes from, but I'll be sticking with Captain Tightpants rather than the charming rogue who seduced Anne Hathaway in Devil Wears Prada.

SHOULD'VE JUST GONE WITH /BONIN: Have you picked up your Facebook username page yet?

INTONE A MELODY FOR THE ASSEMBLED, O HARPSICHORDIST: Honestly, I am having too much fun mocking Official ALOTT5MA Douchebag Gwyneth Paltrow to just let this thing die. So it's time for a weekend activity -- one which has already sort of been initiated in the GOOPy comment thread below. That's right, it's time to rewrite William Joel's lyrics.

• We vowed we would collectively succumb, yes we would collectively succumb
• 'Ere the clock strikes 12, I somnambulate
• Speak without forethought and one might discover that one's prior companions have vanished evermore
• Mon dieu! She is self-sufficient and might elect to be patient; she's quite avant garde
• One could opine that the cardiac muscle is largely fictitious
• Mais apres tout, je sais qu'il n'y a personne, personne qui puisse me sauver (oh wait, we didn't need Gwynnie to make that one pretentious)

(Name that tune, give the proper lyric, and offer your own selection from the collected works of Gwyneth's dear friend's husband, William.)

NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK HAD A BUNCH OF HITS--THESE GUYS? ONE: In news almost as exciting as the opportunity to have lunch with much of the cast of Too Close For Comfort, LFO (yes, that LFO--the Lyte Funky Ones!) is reuniting. Let's remember "Summer Girls," featuring such glorious rhymes as "you're the best girl that I ever did see/the great Larry Bird, Jersey 33," "fell deep in love, but not we ain't speakin'/Michael J. Fox was Alex P. Keaton," and, perhaps most infamously, "hornet/sonnets."

TO ERR IS HUMAN, TO REPENT DIVINE; TO PERSIST DEVILISH: They have listened to our kvetching; "The Franklin" is The Franklin Institute once more.

IT'S LIKE PIZZA, BABY, IT'S GOOD NO MATTER WHAT:

Alas, if it were only true, but having now sampled the pizza that GQ's Alan Richman deemed the best in America after an exhaustive search of 109 pizzerias and 386 pies (and as Adam first blogged about here), I fear I shall never enjoy another slice again quite like those I had at Great Lake Pizzeria in Chicago's Andersonville neighborhood yesterday. This was pizza-making as art, not a pie for those who are looking for 30 minutes fast or free. Richman's description of the place is spot on, and really the pizza is every bit as good as advertised. In fact, it might be better, especially the mortadella and fresh green garlic pie, which was winning over skeptics the night we were there (I forgot to snap a shot of that pizza, so above is the last half of the more standard, but still transcendental fresh mozzarella pie). The whole experience itself is quirky from the painstaking waits to the fact that by the end of your meal you'll have become very close to the people sitting nearly on top of you, but it works because everyone is there for the same reason--to enjoy a slice or two or eight of heaven. If you live in the Chicago area or are just visiting head over on a Wednesday early (they open at 5) and you should be good to go (especially in the summer, since the sidewalk tables nearly double capacity). And order at least two pies per couple, you'll be tempted to finish it all, but the leftovers the next day were better than most pies fresh from the oven.