'Exodus'

I used to hate reggae. Now I don't thanks to Bob Marley's "Exodus."

No, this album didn't turn me into a lover of the genre. I don't hate reggae anymore. I just don't feel anything for it. Which, actually, may be a lot more demeaning than actually hating it.

I find the music pointless. There's no real hooks and the song never goes anywhere. It's sophomoric, at best.

It's not necessarily bad in the same way that Creed is bad. It doesn't sound bad. The lyrics are overly appalling. The musicianship is, at the very least, efficient.

Reggae isn't bad and it isn't good the same way that elevator music or a score in a film isn't good or bad. It's filler. You want to smoke a bowl full of weed? You need to study for a mid-term? Need something humming in the background while you do something else?

Listen to reggae. It doesn't interfere or overwhelm. Yet, it doesn't impress.

What does impress? Thirteen rumored children to nine rumored women. Bobby!

'Camille'

Apparently, Greta Garbo's favorite of her films.

Ah, the old story of the naive guy who falls in love with the prostitute, who herself is in need of money, but is in love with the man, too. Third parties step in and convince the prostitute to break up with the guy, in his best interest. The man is angered. He acts desperately bringing shame on the woman only to realize nearly too late that she broke up against her true wishes.

Then she dies of the consumption. Of course.

This inspired the latest version of "Moulin Rouge," for the entirety of the plot. Both were set on turn-of-the-century Paris, which seemed like an awesome time to be alive. Women were loose. Drugs were hard. The cognac and absinthe flowed like wine. Good times. Rich guys could go out to see burlesque shows, get laid and be no worse for the wear.

Except consumption. But that seemed to attack prostitutes at a very high clip.

'Delicatessen'

Jean-Pierre Jeunet is a true modern auteur. From "Delicatessen" to "Amelie" and "A Very Long Engagement," he's created very, very good catalog of films with a very distinct stamp and style.

Along the way, he's established a very talented stable of performers and filmmakers from actors and actresses to cinematographers, set designers and editors.

It probably makes things really easier to have people that know what you want. But it also makes it possible to create that style having people with similar tastes and goals in their art.

"Delicatessen" is a lot more darker than his other films, but it still shines with a certain amount of hope that even when the world has ended, certain things like love and good keep existing.

'The Who Sell Out'

I hate The Who.

How dumb. A concept album based on radio programs. That sell advertising. To make money. To play more music. Like The Who.

What exactly was the band trying to say with this album? That they could write and record 13 songs without a hit, some of which promoting fake brands? If so, this album is a success.

Or maybe it's to make Roger Daltrey look like a bigger dick with that permed haircut. Whilst Pete Townshend, Keith Moon and John Entwistle look like punks -- like they literally could not give a shit and probably think this album is the worst decision ever made. There's never been a bigger hanger-on in rock history than Daltrey.

'Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory'

There are many good things about being a parent. A top-5 aspect is passing on your favorite things and forcing them on your children.

This weekend, I got to watch "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" with my three-year-old daughter. She dug it. As much as she can dig anything.

I first watched this in intermediate school and instantly loved it.

That same winter, the big Christmas surprise was a brand-new VCR. Even at that age, owning a VCR seemed like a luxury beyond my family's needs (later, I'd learn this was never really an issue ... kids always assume their parents are going broke). The VCR might as well been an indoor swimming pool or a pet camel.

One thing you must know about my parents, they were awful at hiding presents. I would often run into my gifts, kinda hidden, without even looking for them. A day before Christmas, a full 24 hours before we would even have the VCR out of the box, my mother took me to the video store to rent a VHS tape. For a VCR we didn't own. Even at eight, I thought this was kinda stupid.

Therefore, "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" was the first film I saw in a house in any recorded medium.

As for the film, still love it. In the history of film, there was never been a more perfect casting decision than Gene Wilder for Wonka.

According to the actor, he demanded the entrance of Wonka (walking out, with cane, cane sticks in ground, Wonka does somersault and lands on his feet) before he accepted the role.

Why? According to Wilder: "because from that time on, no one will know if I'm lying or telling the truth."

Brilliant.

'Wish You Were Here'

One of my best friends I've ever had was a gigantic fan of Pink Floyd.

The initial reaction would be to assume that my friend was a hippie stoner. Instead, he was the straightest of straight laces. He was a Jehovah's Witness. I'd known him basically our entire school lives. I remember him leaving the classroom during holiday celebrations and not putting his hand over his heart during the Pledge of Allegiance.

About the same time, in junior high or high school, we both started playing guitar. He got really good really quick. We both drooled over catalogs with equipment and guitars.

I don't know his appeal for Pink Floyd other than the fact that he was a bit eccentric (see: Roger Waters, Syd Barrett) and his father (at a younger age) resembled guitarist David Gilmour.

Later, we would bring guitars to school and play "Wish You Were Here." Me playing the rhythm part and him the lead.

I think my friend who I haven't tried to contact in seven years. I think about playing guitars. But I also remember freshman year of high school. A bunch of us were in a goof-off health class. We sat at large tables, two kids to each table. Normally, we'd sit at the same table. One day I went to sit at another table, behind my friend.

He just sat and looked forward the entire time. I still feel bad about abandoning him, even if it was for one day. I'll never listen to "Wish You Were Here" without all this rushing back to me.

'Led Zeppelin II' & 'Led Zeppelin IV'

Pound for pound, "II" was one of the damndest albums I'd ever heard at the tender age of 15 when I first heard it.

It wasn't the heaviest thing I'd ever heard. Nor, the most melodic. It wasn't the most anything.

It was just good. Robert Plant is exceptional. The rhythm section superb as would be expected. And the riffs from Jimmy Page were what 15-year-old boys dreamt of in their sleep. It was Mississippi Delta blues reshuffled and distorted up. Wrapped up in a package that echoed with young men wanting to rage, get pissed without joining the mosh pit.

With age, "IV" has evolved into the clearer favorite. "Misty Mountain Hop" is my favorite Zep song ever. "Battle of Evermore" are lush and edges on Appalachia more than it does concert arenas around the world.

At 15, I wanted to "Ramble On." Now, I just want to go to California.

'The Producers,' 'Blazing Saddles' & 'Young Frankenstein'

In a six-year span in the late 1960s and early 1970s, Mel Brooks wrote and directed three of the greatest comedies in the history of film: "The Producers," "Blazing Saddles" and "Young Frankenstein."

A tremendous accomplishment. Especially considering it were three of his first ever forays into making films. "The Producers" -- his first ever movie -- won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay.

Yes, those three movies are fantastic. Brilliantly executed on every level, in every way imaginable.

In these films, there are performances from actors and actresses that rank as among the best comedic performances in the history of comedic performances.

Gene Wilder, Cleavon Little, Teri Garr, Cloris Leachman, Gene Hackman, Kenneth Mars, Madeline Kahn, Marty Feldman, Peter Boyle and Harvey Korman. That's to name a few.

Granted, some credit should be given to these performers. But it's no accident that they put forth once-in-a-lifetime performances under the direction of Brooks while reading Brooks' words.

We like our directors to be deep, brooding and serious. Chances are, one of the best film directors and entertainers of the 20th century was a guy who had Frankenstein's monster singing "Putting on the Ritz" and doing tap.

'Ramones'

I recently visited a Whataburger near my work. Right when I walked in, I noticed a woman in the Whataburger gear with Down's Syndrome.

I ended up noticing this woman during my entire visit. For nearly 25 minutes straight, she was cleaning tables, floors, clearing out trash and trays, and emptying trash cans. Busy. The entire time. It made me sad that she was entirely more efficient and a better employee than anyone that I knew. All of whom do not have Down's Syndrome.

When I was a kid -- like eight or nine -- the local grocery store had guys that would push your cart of grocery's to your car and load the bags into your trunk or bed of your truck.

There was this one guy who always ended up carrying our bags out. I don't remember his name, but I do remember he was relatively good looking, in his mid-20s and extremely nice. However, he was relatively good looking, in his mid-20s, extremely nice and working as a bag boy at a grocery store.

Later I would learn that this young man was mentally handicapped. Thus the job and his pleasant demeanor.

My point? The Ramones are the retarded people of rock music.

Don't let them do too much (say, three chords and carrying groceries or wiping tables), but don't expect visions from the Algonquin roundtable.

The Ramones were sophisticated and even at their most basic, the Beatles or Colplay were 100 times the band that the punks from Queens, New York were.

But they were efficient. They did just as good at two minutes than Yes or Dream Theater do in 10. Most bands would dream of keeping it real like the Ramones did for two decades.

Employers would dream of having a dozen Down's Syndrome girls from Whataburger or retarded guys from grocery stores.

'Batman'

Tim Burton's 1989 installment of the brilliant Batman pop culture mythology was one of the first films I ever purchased. I probably watched that VHS tape 75 times and probably another 50 on TV or DVD. It's one of my all-time favs.

Watching and appreciating it today as an adult is interesting because there's probably three dozen things that I totally didn't understand because it was a series of complex relationships that we as the audience are thrust into with no explanation.

Often, as a kid, I would fast forward the film to the part where Jack Napier falls into the vat of chemicals because it only got interesting once The Joker came around and started terrorizing Gotham City.

Burton's Batman is nowhere near the creation of Christopher Nolan's latest films in which Batman is given his proper depth, duality and persona.

Still, here's 10 questions I always had as a kid that are answered (kinda) as an adult about Batman:

Who Was Grissom?
Jack Palance played Boss Grissom. Again, his scenes are ones I typically fast forwarded through because they were boring. Grissom is in fact a mobster. A very powerful mobster and the guy who signed Napier's paychecks.

What Was The Deal With Alicia?
At the beginning of the movie, it's clear she's Jack's girl. Later, we see her walk into Grissom's lair with shopping bags. As an adult, I realize the look she gives Jack and that Grissom noticed this look, too. She was cheating on Grissom with Jack. Late, after Grissom is murdered, The Jocker intentionally deforms Alicia's beautiful face. Then we learn that Alicia "threw herself from a window." It's unclear whether this was Jack's doing or suicide. It's equally unclear as to their relationship or whether Alicia was a dumb bitch.

Why Did The Joker Kill Grissom?
As noted, Alicia was cheating on Grissom with Jack. Once Grissom realizes this, he sends Jack on a fool's errand to ransack Axis Chemicals. The crime lord sets Jack up to be murdered by tipping the police officers on his bankroll. Of course, Jack falls into the chemicals with thanks to the Batman. Knowing he'd be set up "over a girl," The Joker kills Grissom.

Did The Chemical Bath Turn The Joker's Skin White Or Normal?
Throughout, The Joker is applying and re-applying (or wiping off) make-up from his face. At times, it looks like he's applying white make-up, but others he's applying the skin-toned make-up. It's clear now that his face was white (shown on the hand reaching out of the chemical sludge and when Vicki Vale douses his face with water).

Why Did Bruce Wayne 'Disappear'?
Following the evening of love making with Vale, she invites the multi-millionaire to a day of festive boyfriend-girlfriend frivolity. The sleepy Wayne initially agrees only to remember that he has a business meeting and will be leaving town and be gone for sever days. Upon leaving Wayne manor, she references the leave with Alfred, who dismisses the lie. We learn that Wayne actually goes to an unspecified corner of Gotham City where he mysteriously lays down a pair of red roses.

Minutes later, Wayne and media members congregate in front of city hall where local mob bosses discuss Boss Grissom when The Joker attacks. Vale, of course, sees Wayne there. Trying to confront him, he speedily dashes away. Why not say, "Hey, I've got something going this afternoon. How about dinner?" when it's pretty clear that you're not going out of town and, in fact, will be clear in the public.

Why Did Wayne React To The Joker's Attack At City Hall?
Once The Joker's minions begin shooting things up (dressed as mimes), Batman's biggest foe walks to a waiting car to be driven away. Wayne, unperturbed by the blaze of machine-gun fire buzzing around him, is agog at The Joker's presence, eyes ablaze, shocked.

I thought it was Wayne remembering it was Napier who had killed his parents. I know now that Wayne was shocked to see The Joker (or Jack Napier) alive considering the last time he saw him, the guy was sinking into a cauldron of boiling chemicals.

How Did Wayne Now The Joker Would Shoot Him In The Chest?
In Vale's apartment, Wayne is over trying to apologize. The Joker ruins everything. Wayne disappears into the ajoining room placing a silver serving dish underneath his jacket. He re-enters the room, antagonizes The Joker until he is shot. Luckily, the silver tray blocked the bullet. Why this was significant is a mystery. Why The Joker didn't shoot him in the head is another myster.

Why Did The Joker's Balloons Inflate Once The Poisonous Gas Was Released?
Still not answered.

Did The Joker/Jack Know He Had Killed Wayne/Batman's Parents?
Surely Jack read the newspaper. After Mr. and Mrs. Wayne were murdered, he had to have known what he done. The Wayne family being very popular people, everyone had to have known that Bruce was aliving and kicking. Any time Jack/The Joker ran into Wayne or vice versa, wouldn't the former realize he'd killed the latter's parents and that Wayne might be a little pissed off about this? Was he that oblivious.

In the final scene where The Joker and Batman fight, The Joker claims that Batman "made" him by dropping him in the chemicals. Batman counters saying that Jack had killed his parents, thus, making Batman. The Joker then admits that "he was a kid" when he killed his parents. It was a long time ago. So, did The Joker know that Batman was Wayne? If this is realized, when did it happen and why didn't Jack/Joker realize this the previous 20 random meetings?

Did Batman Know Jack Napier Killed His Parents?
I refuse to believe that Wayne didn't know who killed his parents. He had to have found out and it looks like the youngster got a pretty good look at the guy that murdered his ma and pa. But how many times had Wayne the opportunity to get to Napier and exact his revenge? Why did Wayne seemingly have no idea who had killed his parents and eventually figure out that Jack had done it, 30 years later?

'Nights of Cabiria'

A very, very good film. Probably my favorite of Federico Fellini's mostly because it's the quinessential post-war, European film.

It's gritty and broken. The super-cute Giulietta Masina (Fellini's wife) plays a prostitute that wants nothing more than to be loved and lead some life that's deemed normal.

Instead, she's keeps getting crapped on by guys just wanting money and nothing else. It's depressing and sad.

Right at the moment when you don't think that Cabiria can not take anymore, can not go any further without breaking for good, the sun shines. A party of young people parade on the road with singing and music.

All of this a perfect allegory for post-war Europe. A continent on the brink that over time find its groove. Like Stella.

I also like it a lot because it's the first of Fellini's that didn't focus on Italy's celebrity and upper-crust.

'Jezebel'

When's the last time you watched a movie (made recently) where there are African Americans portrayed as slaves?

Honestly, the last I can remember if Amistad. And in that movie the slaves were not submissive, but instead lead a ship mutiny. Other modern films showcase non-Africans as slaves.

Not that it's not important, but is it a no-no for a Hollywood director to depict African slaves as subservient entities? Maybe.

"Jezebel" is a really good movie and Bette Davis is just gorgeous in it. In pretty short order, she'd develop that evil set of eyebrows and that dastardly snare, but in "Jezebel" she's young (30), vibrant and takes over the screen.

I do dislike the association with the Biblical character and Davis' depiction on the movie posters where she's almost glaring at the audience from beneath her eyelids. Davis' character wasn't evil. She was young and dumb. I know, it's hard to believe this is possible.

Also, were filmgoers really interested in the antebellum south? A year later, "Gone With the Wind" would be released. The Civil War had been just 60 years earlier. There will survivors still from the era, telling their tales. People must have loved it. Slavery and all.

'Headquarters'

They were inspired by The Beatles, but they sound like The Byrds. They were hip and cool and funny. Stylistically, there may not have been anything better to come out of the 1960s.

And that TV introduced a ton of dorky young kids to rock music long before The Beatles, heavy metal or radio would ever get to us. At age 10, I knew a billion times more about The Monkees than I did about The Beatles, The Beach Boys, The Rolling Stones, U2, Aerosmith or Ozzy Osbourne put together. At the time, I was a Mike Nesmith guy, but with time I think I'm a Peter Tork guy.

While trying to make a buck, Don Kirshner created a pretty good band. Headquarters is the first album Mike Nesmith, Davy Jones, Micky Dolenz and Peter Tork would record and release as an independent group, out of the clutches of Kirshner and the TV execs. Why they kept Jones around is a mystery. Probably because he made them 75 percent more pretty.

Headquarters is a really good album. It's chockful of country-rock pop songs reeking with banjo and steel guitar. Mixed in are Dolenz' and Jones' really sweet vocals. A very beautiful album.

You won't find a hit, but you will get what was bubbling underneath the skins of these guys, who all really wanted to make music for a living. It's better than 90 percent of albums produced by "real" bands.

Headquarters debuted at No. 1 in the United States upon release in 1967. It was supplanted the next week by The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band.

'The Joshua Tree'

I've always associated The Joshua Tree with the early 1980s, the defining opus of U2's early career.

In fact, The Joshua Tree was the band's fifth album, released in 1987. The band has recorded and released a total of 12 albums. If the career arc of The Beatles is any indication, that would make The Joshua Tree their Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Kinda.

Sgt. Pepper noted a sea change in The Beatles' recording process, career and art. The Joshua Tree is a perfect cap to the 1980s following the greatest albums they would ever make, Boy, War and October. The Joshua Tree didn't do to U2 what Sgt. Pepper did to The Beatles. But it was just as good if not better than those other albums and the band, afterwards, didn't near match that output.

I'm as big of a U2 critic as there is, but I do not deny their early ability to scrape out their own style and sound. And it's a style and sound I like. I can listen to The Joshua Tree today just like I could 10 years ago when I first discovered it.

That album is 23 years old and it's entirely more important than their last three albums put together.

'Back to the Future'

What do the high school films of the 1980s tell us about Generation X?

According to popular socialogical studies and whatnot, Generation X was born somewhere between 1965 and 1980, give or take. That means the earliest Gen Xers were about 19 when Back to the Future was released in theatres.

According to the same research, Generation X shares some general characteristics: Due to high divorce rates, many Gen Xers are self-relient and enjoy their freedom; they dislike being micro-managed. This generation is adept at technology. They adapt well to change and enjoy a segregation of work from their private life.

How does this not define Ferris Bueller or Marty McFly?

I was born in 1980 and I didn't see Back to the Future until I was 12, a good eight years after it was released and after the subsequent parts II and III were released.

I totally undrestand why these films are enjoyable, but for my part I don't think they age well and I can't imagine watching them over and over. Frankly, my wife owns them, and she's thee years old than me.

What kills me about Back to the Future the most is the music. Nothing says Huey Lewis and the News' "Power of Love" to get Michael J. Fox pumped about getting on a skateboard to go to school. In fact, "Power of Love," one of Lewis' most overrated songs, doesn't have anything to do with the movie until another 90 minutes later. I would've gone with "Sports."

Generation X is also apparently infatuated with being cool. It's one thing to be good with plutonium, to be self-sufficient and dying to get back to your girl (Marty would upgrade hundredfold with Elisabeth Shue in the next movie), but McFly was just too cool. Not unlike Bueller or any of the crew from The Breakfast Club or Anthony Michael Hall.

Each wore the perfect clothes. If they weren't cool then, they would soon be cool. The puffy vest. The high-top sneakers and the skinny jeans (which would later become incredibly cool in hipster factions ... like right now). The frantic motions and the constant running. Wherever McFly was running, he wasn't only doing it in the coolest fashion possible, but his destination was simply the place to be.

And that annoys me more than anything. A popular movie in the Generation Y faction is Donnie Darko. Ironically, it's about alienation and the harsh realities of high school ... set in the 1980s.

No matter how skinny our jeans get with time, the 1980s are inherently uncool. McFly and Bueller were lipstick applied to a sow.

I do wonder how Homeland Security would have dealt with Doc Brown. The United States doesn't take kindly to dealing with Middle Eastern terrorists, post-9/11.

'White Blood Cells'

"Fell In Love With A Girl" got Jack and Meg White famous.

"Hotel Yorba" got their foot in the door.

It was late 2001, I was in college, and my only access to cable television was at a bar or at the house of the girl I was dating. Paying for television seemed to dumb, at the time.

At the time, MTV had already evolved into the crap hole that it is today. It was well on its way toward not playing any music whatsoever.

However, several years earlier, MTV had launched MTV2. This station not only played music videos all day, but they attached themselves to the wave of independent-tinged rock music that was selling more and more records and turning more and more heads. Hell, even bands that weren't doing anything, you could find them on MTV2. It was a great time waste.

I first heard about The White Stripes due to their album De Stijl, but I knew little about then or anything about their upcoming White Blood Cells.

Then one afternoon, I switch over to MTV2 and there is the music video for "Hotel Yorba." Just Jack and Meg. Sparse drums and an acoustic guitar. Jack's signature caterwaul. Catchy.

Months later, MTV2 would be overrun with Michael Gondry's Lego-enhanced video for "Fell In Love With A Girl" and the Whites never looked back. I saw two people get very famous lounging on my girlfriend's antique couch.

'Killer of Sheep'

The release of this film was delayed more than 30 years due to Charles Burnett using all of this fantastic soul, R&B and funk for the soundtrack.

All great songs mostly because they're done by great artists. All of whom aren't into giving their music away for free.

"Killer of Sheep" is pretty important for black cinema. It's realism. Shot without any kind of filter in the Watts district of Los Angeles in the 1970s. It's gritty and soul crushing.

So to have such a film done by some film student that could mean so much to the culture he was trying to either inspire or represent to be held up for three decades because you want to bust some Earth, Wind and Fire out on your little movie seems petty and small.

I do not want to take away the impact of music on the black culture or any culture. But that's the thing. African Americans are no more inspired or carried along by their music than, say, Italians, whites, Hispanics, Germans or Indians. In fact, music is a huge part of all of those cultures.

I guess if Burnett is happy with it.

'The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp'

"What is it really about?"

That's a comment from a critic in 1943 when the film was release. Smack in the middle of World War II as London was getting bombarded by the Nazis.

For the time, it's an interesting film. According to legend, Winston Churchill did not like the movie and at one time almost stopped production and later tried to halt its distribution.

And no one knows why. Theories include maybe Churchill saw Clive as a caricature of himself. But no one knows for sure.

Anyway, it's tough to nail down just what the writers and director was trying to say here. About warfare or about England.

Clive, at worst, is naive. That's not so bad. And who was necessarily railing against having to fight the Nazis?

We perceive, now, World War II as being noble in that there was a distinct line between right and wrong. Although the enemy was legitimately wrong, war is never noble. Even if it means a monster is stopped.

Clive saw war as a means to an end, a necessary means to a necessary end. At the time, the directors nor Churchill knew about the ignoble wars that have jaded us about conflict, like Vietnam or the Gulf War. Still, how necessary were the conflicts in the United States or Africa for the British. Tons of sons and brothers died on both continents to maintain an unmanageable empire that clearly had an expiration date. That blood was spilt for nothing and that had to be maddening.

Fighting Nazis isn't wrong; war is. And without war, there aren't Nazis.

'Stagecoach'

Fun fact: John Ford's "Stagecoach" was the first talkie western.

"Stagecoach" is further proof that I might be an idiot. At least, when it comes to judging and appreciating films. Frankly, "Stagecoach" doesn't do anything for me. It's a cool western and all. John Wayne is John Wayne. It's adventurous and all that jazz.

Yet, it's considered one of the best films ever. Like ever, ever.

According to Orson Welles, it's the perfect way to make a film. And he watched it more than 40 times while filming "Citizen Kane." All of this according to Wikipedia, actually, so none of it may be true, but who the hell makes this shit up? Welles clearly has a different point of view of good filmmaking.

Today's filmmakers are critized as having run out of ideas. Meaning, attempts to remake films from 1970s TV shows wears people down making them think no one's doing anything original or even worthwhile.

Well, this isn't new. In 1966, they took of the "best films ever made" and remade it. With Slim Pickens, Red Buttons and Bing Crosby. "The A-Team" doesn't seem so bad.

'A Love Supreme'

I have an African-American friend.

He's a bit of a nut, actually. We have a ton of discussions and debates about white and black culture -- mostly where the line of demarcation sits, how these cultures clash even on the most minute scale. Mostly sports.

However, he contends something that I find is not only very misguided, but preposterous: That Kenny G is insanely popular with African Americans.

My friend is one of these African Americans. So much so that he and his wife have seen him in concert.

I think this is ridiculous. Kenny G is everything that African Americans hate about white people. Well, not hate. African Americans probably hate whites more for slavery, Jim Crow, police dogs, George Wallace, burning crosses and the KKK.

Kenny G is why African Americans don't take whites seriously. African Americans love the Los Angeles Lakers. Kurt Rambis is the Kenny G of Lakers basketball.

It's stilted and played note for note as it's written on the sheet music. There's no bop. No spontaneity. Nothing cool about it. Kenny G took a traditionally black musical tradition and made it palatable for the white consumer. My friend and all black people should hate Kenny G. Like police dogs.

My argument to my friend is that he should be listening to John Coltrane and his accepting of Kenny G is like slapping the face of Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Charlie Parker and Miles Davis.

He doesn't get it. He thinks he's rooting for James Worthy, when really he's wearing a Rambis road jersey replica. Sadness.

'Seize the Day'

A pretty poignant book.

Wilhelm is a man in his 40s. He's lost his wife and kids. Lives with his father. Lost his dead-end job. Doesn't have any money and what money he did have, he lost it in a speculation scheme steered by some guy he plays cards with.

You kind of get the feeling that he doesn't like himself so the fact that no one else really likes him (even his father) doesn't really make him altogether sad nor does it necessarily ever surprise him.

At this moment, when all is terribly wrong with the world, Wilhelm finds himself. Kinda.

What's eye opening about "Seize the Day" is the fact that this isn't from the 1960s or 1970s. But from the 1950s, a decade of rebuilding, decadence, provincial living and safety. When the world quit fighting. When the United States had a former general as president. The war to end all wars was done. Jobs could be had. Marriage, kids, white-picket fences.

It was all there for the taking or the mirage of it was there. Chances are, and Saul Bellow indicates as much, it wasn't there for many. The war of the 1920s, 1930s and 1940s was still be waged by many not able to put the pieces together.

'Contempt'

The only thing more beautiful than Jean-Luc Godard's filmmaking is the wonderful and stunning Brigitte Bardot.

I tried, in my mind, to correlate the great Bardot to someone in the modern day. A sex symbol, with some acting ability, but mostly known for what she looked like and what she was wearing.

However, the sex symbolism isn't just due to the fact that she's shapely, proportioned and beautiful. She's one of the top five all-time sex symbols. She oozed the stuff. She makes guys go crazy; crazier than what most other females ever get.

I thought of Scarlett Johansson. Still, I don't think she appropriately captures everything that Bardot means nor do I think she necessarily grabs you by the dick from the screen quite like the golden-haired goddess of Godard's vision.

"Contempt" also presents another interesting, post-modern look at art. In the film, Jack Palance is an American producer/playboy, who has hired the famed Austrian director Fritz Lang to direct a film based on Homer's "The Odyssey." Palance's character dislikes the initial direction of Lang so he hires Paul, a screenwriter and playwright, to work on the script.

Funnily, Lang plays himself in the film. So a real director plays himself in a film about fake filmmakers. Did Lang of the film know about Godard? Was the Godard ever considered by Palance's producer character to hire Godard for the film? Was Brigitte Bardot considered to play Penelope? Or Jack Palance to play Ulysses?

It's a interesting discussion first introduced to me by pop culturist Chuck Klosterman in "Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs." In it, he enquires whether Harrison Ford's character in "What Lies Beneath" own a copy of "Raiders of the Lost Ark," obviously a Ford film where he portrays Indiana Jones. Had Ford's character in "What Lies Beneath" seen "Star Wars" or "Blade Runner?"

A very different scenario for sure, but it brings up the question of art and what art knows. Or doesn't.

Still, Bardot is smoking hot.

'Parklife'

When I was about 13 or so, I spent an entire summer basically at home all day. It was by far the most mundane three months of my life.

My daily routine included waking up at 11 a.m., eating waffles and watching the little-known music video cable station, The Box. At the time, my father just had the huge satellite disk, the type that killed Cincinnati Red catcher Bo Diaz. We did not get MTV or VH1.

The Box played a series of unpopular rock and hip-hop artists mixed in with an irregular hodepodge of actually popular artists. Most notably "Regulate" by Warren G. All-time jam of the century.

While I enjoyed The Box, I'd spend the rest of the day on the phone with friends. As they all had The Box, we'd make snide comments. Eight hours of this shit.

A popular selection was "Girls and Boys" from their album, Parklife.

That $2 video. That Euro club bassline and beat. A young, skinny Damon Albarn hopping around.
Little did I know that the remaining album was a bunch of catchy BritPop and would release another two albums of the same. "Girls and Boys" is the least Blur single in all of Blur's releasing of singles.

Still, no single album or any single released in music could ever evoke such bored memories than that stinkin' summer in the early 1990s.

'The B-52's'

The B-52's are the type of band that most anyone who wants to play music for the sheer fun (clearly, members of Dream Theater and Yes are not included) would want to play with.

It's super upbeat and danceable. Nothing is nearly important as getting drunk and making sure that your body's moving at any given second as the beat's being laid down.

There seem to be no worries, no cares. Just party.

There's also a certain freedom. Be your own person. Wear what you want and have the biggest, baddest beehive or mohawk. You're not going to be judged as a member of The B-52's considering Fred Schneider's in the band.

John Lennon allegedly stated he liked this album. Good enough for a Beatle, good enough for me.

'So Much for the City'

In the early 2000s, I had the distinct pleasure in being in college as rock music finally did something creative and, on the way, got a little popular.

Dumb rock media deemed this influx of popular rock bands was "The" bands referring to The Strokes, The Hives, The Vines, The White Stripes and The Thrills, all of whom were taking over the ranks of the likes of Limp Bizkit, Korn, Kid Rock and those type of mook aggressors.

This so-called invasion of bands that were actually cool changed how people looked at music, how the media covered music, the impact of Internet sources on rock music and the next decade of kids in garages covering "Last Nite."

"So Much for the City" is probably one of my favorite records of the last 10 years and clearly one of the best albums from this brief time in rock music's great history.

Actually, it's a pretty kick-ass Americana record, by a bunch of Irish kids with wayward facial hair and a affinity for the United States and country and western music.

'With the Beatles'

As good as The Beatles were on "With the Beatles" they weren't nearly where they could be nor where they would get in their next album ("A Hard Day's Night") or even two years later ("Help!" and "Rubber Soul").

In two short years, between touring and being The Beatles, the group would to totally transform rock music, the music industry and their own career arc.

"With the Beatles" was the final R&B album, the last album before they started playing real rock and roll music full time and writing all of their own songs.

Instead of actually playing the songs of their black heroes, they'd soon be writing songs in homage to their black heroes.

With that said, it makes "With the Beatles" a very American record. It was known as the British Invasion, but in actuality all they wanted to be was The Miracles, Chuck Berry and Little Richard.

'Smile'

The teenage symphony to God released 40 years later by a 65-year-old man.

Two of the top 10 reasons rock and roll is the most popular musical genre in the history of musical genres is Led Zeppelin screwing that girl with a mud shark and "Smile."

For the latter, it was Brian Wilson's alleged masterpiece, a follow-up to "Pet Sounds" and direct response to the Beatles' "Revolver" and an attempt to make an American record when American records weren't cool.

So Wilson nosedived into some LSD, built a sandbox in his house and started holing up with Van Dyke Parks and writing the most extravagant and over-the-top three-minute pop songs in history.

Famously, the album never saw the light of day. Wilson broke down mentally. Mike Love hated the thing and the others put together "Smiley Smile" and "Wild Honey," which are both really good, underrated albums.

After 40 years of hiding out, his brain fried and his brothers dead, Wilson decided to dust off the album -- from scratch -- and release the damn thing.

Maybe this is all Wilson. Maybe he needed the money. Maybe he wanted to do music again. However, "Smile" isn't what it should have been and the boy genius must know this.

I think Wilson and his compatriots assumed the mystery and legacy of the project and Wilson's escape from his own demons would make for a triumphant return. Instead, he overstepped his bounds and found out two things:

1. He's not nearly as good without his brothers. The jokers Wilson brought in for instrumentation and, most importantly, vocals pale in comparison to what was released with "Smiley Smile." Not that the new guys don't have talent, but no one harmonized like the brothers Wilson.

He's not nearly as good outside the 1960s. On the fantastic "Pet Sounds," Wilson decried that he "just wasn't made for these times." He might have been speaking for 2000s-era Wilson. "Smile" is well over-produced, like a nice steak so over down it loses the juicy savoriness and falls flat. There was something about recording in the 1960s -- from the technology to just the way the music felt like without digitization and 12-track recording. You can not convince me that the 2000s "Smile" is anywhere near what 1960s Wilson wanted.

"Heroes and Villains" is a fantastic song. Maybe the Beach Boys ever recorded.

'The Crying of Lot 49'

An extremely odd book if you've got a weekend to finish it off. How weird? One critic called it an exemplary postmodern text. Another called it a parody of postmodernism.

See. Thomas Pynchon even confounded the critics.

It's about this woman (Oedipa), who's married to a LSD-taking disc jockey, who is named the executor of her ex-boyfriend's will. She gets wrapped up with a former Nazi doctor, a sexed up lawyer, and some off-beat history lesson about competing mail services and the secret society that maintained one group's existence in secret as if they were Christians in Nero's Rome.

Throughout this rambling narrative, there's a number of references to the Beatles and Vlad Nabokov. It's right in line with contemporaries like Kurt Vonnegut. Still don't know what I really think about it.

'October: Ten Days That Shook The World'

The Russians were quick to embrace film for their various propaganda drives. They took it a bit further in making these actually good, early films.

The film was released in 1927, right when Stalin had grabbed control of the country after Vlad Lenin's death. Already, the screws were being loosened as Stalin starting exiling some, murdering others and starving the rest. That is 10 years after the revolution. To put that into prospect, we're one year away from the 10-year anniversary of Sept. 11, which still feels like yesterday.

Intresting note, the storming of the Winter Palace is actually based on an re-enactment of the same event held in 1920 by Lenin. The re-enactment played host to 100,000 spectators. Apparently, they took liberties with the initial storming of the palace. Not unlike what Disney has done to a dozen or so sports films over the last decade.

Could you imagine someone making a film today re-telling the story of a battle and basing that visual on the re-enactment of that battle? Then again, isn't a film just an expensive re-enactment? "October" is just a re-enactment of a re-enactment.

'Abbey Road' & 'Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band'

Arguably The Beatles' tightest and well-produced (if not over-produced) albums is "Abbey Road." And that's not really saying something.

That's an odd statement since the fifth Beatle was producer George Martin and they were responsible for the fantastically pulled together "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band," which is an exquisitely put together album and probably the pinnacle of rock music as a concept and art in the 1960s.

"Abbey Road" isn't nearly as good of an album, but it's crisper. Zero loose ends and the most precise album from note to note as the Beatles ever got.

Ironically, or no, "Abbey Road" was recorded largely without the Fab Four playing together. Side B alone was Paul McCartney's baby (funny thing, a lot of Big Mac's solo albums just years later were incredibly loose, raunchy and raw) and was just a hodgepodge of melodies.

The album's most concise songs are "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" and "Octopus' Garden," the latter being one of the worst Beatles songs ever and the former being one of the most underrated.

"Sgt. Pepper" was similar in terms of everyone being involved. In "The Beatles Anthology," George Harrison and Ringo Starr admitted to coming into recording sessions for the album with nothing to do.

The album was a big orchestral piece and there's very, very little guitar a just a tad more drums. All four where in the room, but just two (John, Paul) were making the music.

Two great, seminal albums.

'El Norte'

A beautifully sad and poignant movie that rings incredibly true 25 years later. Maybe more so.

Rosa and Enrique are teenage brother and sister living in the jungles of Guatamala when their father is murdered by government soldiers after plotting to start a union. Later, the mother disappears leaving the pair unattached and afraid in their home country. The pair decide to migrate north into the United States.

Through their trials and tribulations, they wind up in Mexico successfully where they meet their "coyote". They crawl through a drainage pipe to the United States where they are viciously attacked by an army of rats. They eventually make it to the States, they rent an apartment and start working.

Dodging immigration, the pair sink their teeth into the United States, Enrique as a busboy moving up the ranks at a nice restaurant and Rosa as a housekeeper. She contracts typhus from the rat bites while Enrique is offered a good job in Chicago. Before he leaves in the middle of the night, he learns his sister is dying. He leaves the job laying there and sees his sister before she breaths her last death.

It's commentary on immigrants, prejudice and the lose-lose situation for many trying to make a better life for themselves in a country that doesn't really want them, but needs them for their dirty work.

'Swing Time'

Here's an odd statement: There isn't enough Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing in this film. It's disappointing. If I were directing an Astaire-Rogers film, they'd be dancing in 80 percent of the film.

What's interesting is that there aren't films anymore that are based on one or two people doing a singular thing like dancing or singing. Nobody dances or sings anymore anyway.

The only exception is pornography. Eight percent of a porn is screwing. The other 20 percent is thinly-veiled plot development.

All Astaire-Rogers films should follow the same rule.

'Rings Around The World'

The reason most of us like lists, critics and the like is because every year there is art being created and released. So much that it would be impossible for any one person to absorb it all.

Therefore we depend on lists to help us capture the top 10 percent or read critics so they can tell us the general feeling and opinion about a record or book.

Even then, we're still capturing about three percent of all books, albums and films released in a year (maybe) and doesn't include the millions of titles already released over the past 500 years.

Another way we keep up with the assembly line of pop culture is through friends or friends with blogs.

A good friend of mine is a relatively big fan of the Super Furry Animals. I know that he's seen them in concert and sings their general praises whenever the time arises.

How he could not direct my attention toward "Rings Around the World" is mystifying. We all work so hard to ingest as much beauty as we can while we're on this Earth, and, yet, we still work to fight each other. And not share records with each other.

Asshole.

'Tuesday Night Music Club'

My parents initially split up when I was 13 years old. They subsequently reunited (for the kid, of course), which didn't last long. They eventually split again, for good this time.

Obviously, given my age, this was very tumultuous. It was probably a lot more tumultuous then I actually remember it being. If someone asked me now to talk to their kid about divorce and how to cope, I'd slap the kid on the back and say, "You'll get over it."

Once they got divorced, a weekly ritual included my mother picking me up from my father's house on Wednesday afternoons, when I'd stay at her house before going to church that evening.

Every week, we'd go to Taco Bell (at the time, it was brand new and the first ever Mexican fast food I'd ever had ... and it was more than delicious) and then to her house where I'd watch Nickelodeon or, more likely, MTV, a station that was not available through my father's satellite.

In 1993, that same year, an unknown hot piece of ass, Sheryl Crow, released her debut, "Tuesday Night Music Club." This is seminal because she was by the far the hottest musician/musical artist I'd ever seen and "All I Wanna Do" was a really cool song.

That album spawned four other hits and four other music videos. I'd practically listened to the album (at least the best songs) on TV. If I made an anthology of my life, Crow's "Tuesday Night Music Club" would represent this time period.

Listening to it now is boring. It's extremely adult contemporary at times. I don't even really remember ever listening to "Run, Baby, Run," "We Do What We Can" and "I Shall Believe."

"The Na-Na Song" is interesting only because it was another chapter in the upbeat pop song where the lyrics are hodgepodged together with pop culture references and delivered in a hurried, break-neck fashion. Much like Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start The Fire" and REM's "It's The End Of The World As We Know It." These songs, I do not like.

"All I Wanna Do" is still listenable. The lyrics aren't as good. But the music is really good. The bass and drums lay down a perfect backbeat. The steel guitar is beautiful and that little electric guitar riff just before the chorus is simply divine.

'The Driver's Seat' & 'The Girls Of Slender Means'

Really knocking out Muriel Sparks' short fiction.

Given the characters in "The Driver's Seat" and "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie," I always wonder how autobiographical these people are in her stories.

Maybe not very much, but it's interesting how close Lise and Jean Brodie mirror each other as delusional, self-involved neurotics, neither of which seem to know which end is up.

Sparks' mid-century portrayal of the young women in Europe is extraordinary. "Girls of Slender Means" is a great snapshot of these different, independent and intelligent women seeking to make their own mark in the world despite all the tragedy and deadends they might actually find.

All of these stories are incredibly tragic, which might be an insight into Sparks' real life more than any of these characters.

'Beauty And The Beast'

I have a three-year-old daughter and her most recent discovery is Disney's "Beauty and the Beast."

It's pretty good. Jean Cocteau's version is pretty good, too. I really did feel the beast was really good in this version. He seemed legitimately scary without being overly goofy.

The cartoon version is odd because the beast is far better looking as the animal compared to the doofus he turns back into once the spell is broken.

A big difference between the two versions is that Avenant, Belle's non-beast love interest, is not killed like the correlating Gaston in the Disney version, but instead himself turns into a beast as the original beast turns into the charming, good-looking guy with the killer personality.

Of course, none of this actually compares to the 1980s TV series starring Ron Perlman as the greatest beast of all time and the manly Linda Hamilton.

'A Grand Don't Come For Free'

I've had a pretty shitty day. I feel downright awful.

I bought this album today and listened to it and it just made me frustrated and angry.

It's been a bad day.