the final member

One of the sad truths of life is all good things come to an end. As I type this last recap of Fantastic Fest I'm 5,000 feet in the air hurtling back towards Boston, far away from the cozy confines of the Alamo Drafthouse and the comfort of their table service that delivers me delicious fried pick spears washed down with a black and white shake. To call Fantastic Fest an amazing experience would undersell it. The four days and change in Austin marked one of the rare times when reality exceeded the lofty expectations I'd built for the rip.