On the one hand, the suggestion is correct, I love me some Demetri Martin. On the other, what does this say about me as a person? I don’t know that anyone can really ‘enjoy’ Dear Zachary. That’s like enjoying a baseball bat to your face or  open heart surgery with no anestethtic. I think I figured out the Netflix equation: [time travel + matricide/homicide = snarky dead pan comedy].