So, a certain monster movie comes out tomorrow, and the OB office is divided on it. Half of us think it'll be awesome, half are convinced that Spike Jonze (Most. Pretentious. Fake. Hipster. Name. Ever. We're on to you, Adam Spiegel.) should not have been allowed to touch Maurice Sendak's classic work about the power of a little boy's imagination. Regardless, everyone should own a copy of the original Where the Wild Things Are ($10) to appreciate the beautiful illustrations and simple story. And if anyone tries to touch In the Night Kitchen or The Nutshell Library, we will hurt you.
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