About a year and a half ago I was blown away by the Broadway production of Stephen Sondheim’s “Assassins” so I thought I’d put some his other stuff on the Netflix queue. Well, now they’re here. I gotta say, “Sunday. . .” really annoyed the hell out of me. I recognize that this is “good.” It’s just not for me. I mean. . .sigh. . .I dunno. . .yes. . .it’s clever, y’know. . .finishing the hat where there never was a hat, yes, yes, yes. . .but. . .sigh. . .the whole thing just. . .I dunno. . .can’t I just *not* like something everyone says is brilliant? Isn’t it okay for me not to have a reason not to like something? I just couldn’t wait for it to end, and that’s the truth, even though I recognized that some important observations about the art of making art (bit by bit, piece by piece) was being presented. Just. . .just leave me alone! And — GOD THESE FUCKING SONGS ARE SO CATCHY AND SO FUCKING ANNOYING! AGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!