Bike-share services are a good idea in theory. Riders can use their smartphone to pay to rent a bike, then leave it at their destination without having to return it. It saves money compared with car ownership, and reduces carbon emissions. In reality, certain parts of metro Phoenix have become a bike-share wasteland, with abandoned two-wheelers left anywhere and everywhere you can think of. It'd be kind of funny if it wasn't so annoying. The Instagram account @litterbikesofaz shares our opinion; its feed is jammed with photos of sad, discarded bikes (and parts of bikes) hanging from fences, lying in roadways, and dumped in canals. Next time you see one, take a picture and send it in.

When local poet Jared Duran first started doing his Limited Engagement podcast, it was an excuse for him to pick the brains of some of Phoenix's finest writers. Duran's podcast quickly expanded beyond that scope as he started interviewing musicians, journalists, theater people — even relatively big names like Soft Boys frontman/U.K. cult songwriter Robyn Hitchcock. Like all the best podcasts, a lot of the charm comes from the host. Duran's a rambler, in the best possible way: The intros to his shows can often be 10 minutes long as he weighs in on the Valley's cultural scene and on the things that are on his mind. His interviews also share that digressive feeling, as conversations often detour into surprising territory. And now that Duran has started his own publishing imprint and co-hosts a second podcast, Hoot N Review, with writer Jenna Duncan, he's got a whole lot more to talk about.

The current KJZZ schedule airs The Show at 9 a.m., so if you're well into your day of meetings and conference calls by then, we'll tell you what you're missing. The Show is a collection of oral news stories and features focusing on the Phoenix area, as well as Maricopa County, the state, and the country at large. Hosts Mark Brodie, Lauren Gilger, Steve Goldstein, and Tiara Vian — backed by their small but effective team of producers and reporters — cover everything from making Phoenix a "soccer town" to the Valley's air quality to Planned Parenthood AZ to the adventures of Don Shooter. If you really can't catch it live, we have two podcast suggestions: KJZZ's The Show and KJZZ's The Show: Friday Newscap.

Russ Kazmierczak is a nerdy Renaissance man. He writes, draws, and publishes his own comics as Amazing Arizona Comics; he's a microphone fiend at karaoke; he produces an annual Jack Kirby birthday show; and is part of a Frasier tribute band. He also has a deep and abiding passion for the oeuvre of The Monkees that would probably net him a restraining order if he wasn't so charming about it. But one of the things that Kazmierczak does best is tell stories. Whether it's at storytelling events such as Untidy Secrets, poetry open mics, or a variety show, he tells true-life tales that are honest, affecting, and deeply hilarious. And whereas most tellers are content with just talking onstage, Kazmierczak often accentuates his stories with live drawing, musical accompaniment, and even projects short films and videos on walls using his cellphone. Sometimes he'll even bust out his impressively extensive collection of He-Man toys and narrate elaborate toy fights in front of a live audience. If that doesn't deserve an award all by itself, we don't know what does.

There are plenty of comedians in the Valley with tight fives, but how many of them can say they've created a holiday? In addition to possessing one of the sharpest tongues and fastest wits in Phoenix, comic Anwar Newton is the creator of that most glorious of high holy days: Ja Rule Day, that blessed day on December 9 on which people across the nation pay tribute to Mr. Livin' It Up with thousands of "IT'S MURDA" jokes. But Newton is more than the originator of a fun meme holiday. He's also one of the creative forces behind Literally the Worst Show Ever, one of the best recurring comedy shows in Arizona. A mix of stand-up, character work, and hilarious videos, LTWSE's ambitions and production values put most other comedy nights to shame. And when Newton isn't hosting LTWSE, he's co-hosting a weekly late-night comedy show with Michael Turner called This Week Sucks, Tonight! He also has a killer routine about why you should be worried if you see your doctor drinking from a Polar Pop cup.

Valley resident Scott Godlewski knows a thing or three about creating comics. For proof, load up the latest episode of The Illustrious Gentlemen podcast, where he and fellow artist Ryan Cody drop a dime every week on the inner workings of the sequential art industry, including how to make it in the biz. And Godlewski speaks from experience, considering he's been penciling and inking superheroes for major publishers like DC for going on a decade. (His all-too-brief stints on the post-Rebirth version of Superman and Batwoman are pretty great). Where he really shines is in the pages of Copperhead, the space Western yarn he co-created for Image Comics in 2014 with writer Jay Faerber. Godlewski's finely detailed lines and moody shading gives life to the homespun noir of a no-nonsense female sheriff grappling with mysterious circumstances on a backwater planet. The title's been an artistic and commercial success so far, earning him praise from both fans and critics alike. Way to go, Godlewski.

People may not think of Phoenix as a "poetry town," but there's been a thriving lit scene here for over a decade. Poetry slams, zine fests, Arizona State University literary conferences — there's something for everyone. If you're a writer looking for an open mic to share your work, woodshed some material, and meet fellow wordsmiths, you've got plenty of happenings to choose from. But if you really want to step up your lit game, you'll get your ink-stained butt over to Caffeine Corridor pronto. Hosted by scene vets Jack Evans, Shawnte Orion, and Bill Campana, Caffeine Corridor happens every second Friday of the month. It starts with an open mic and caps off with two feature sets. Some open mics pride themselves on being "page" poet events (for more academic verse and prose) while others put the focus on performances, but C.C. is the rare mic that welcomes both approaches. They usually book one featured poet each month from both camps, creating a varied and unpredictable evening of spoken word. They also book out-of-town features, making C.C. a great destination for being exposed to new work outside your community.

This handsome production had its problems, like the fact that its principal cast bellowed most of their lines rather than simply speaking them. But this Chapter Two gave us the rare opportunity to watch a play directed by the woman who inspired it, one written by her ex-husband. Actress Marsha Mason, to whom the late playwright Neil Simon was married when he wrote Chapter Two — a play about a recent widower who marries a long-suffering divorcee — directed this version. Mason's fine cast included Davis Mason (no relation to Marsha), a charmer who brought a menu of emotions, each more sincere than the last, as well as the production's best performance.

Playwright Lucas Hnath drags out some juicy Walt Disney legends in his caustic comedy — that old bit about Disney's head being cryogenically preserved, the one about lemmings being hurled from a cliff top during a nature documentary shoot. But it was iTheatre co-founder Christopher Haines's efficient direction and austere and practical set design that brought this work to life. Haines created the illusion of action from four players who are mostly sitting stock-still in office chairs in a showbiz pitch room. Hnath's staccato, overlapping dialogue and repetitive rhythms made a quagmire of half-finished sentences, but Haines and a fine cast created a startling homage to pathology and the dangers of egoism that deserved 90 minutes of our time.

Only Katie McFadzen could pull off playing bitchy Mrs. Cratchit, sickly-sweet Tiny Tim, and that blowhard Ghost of Christmas Present, while also making something of Charles Dickens' 173-year-old narration in a one-woman production of A Christmas Carol. McFadzen adapted the script herself, from the original text, with the help of director Matthew Wiener. It played last winter at Tempe Center for the Arts, and was way more than a recitation, even while it quoted great hunks of the Dickens novella. Rather than inhabit each character, McFadzen described them with distinct voices and slightly altered stature — a subtle trick that elevated this 80-minute adaptation, turning a how-did-she-do-that curiosity into a tidy entertainment.