This article by Kurt Vonnegut is awesome. It's funny to hear someone putting the baby boomers on blast from the other side of the generational chasm. Vonnegut is a wise man. If he would write another book, I would be happy. (Spotted on David Drake's blog, which I should probably link on the side of the page.)

Also awesome: this short story by Jhumpa Lahiri from the new New Yorker. Jhumpa Lahiri is way badass. She never gets sick of writing about confusion and displacement in the lives of Bengali immigrants in Boston, and I never get sick of reading about it.

Another awesome thing: the Streets' A Grand Don't Come For Free. I'm usually unconcerned with lyrics, but lately a lot of amazing writers have been making records: Dennis Coles, Craig Finn, Kanye West, John Darnielle. And now we've got Mike Skinner telling us an actual story over the course of an album. And it's a good story, well told. Skinner's eye for detail is fucking fantastic: peeling the label off your beer when you can't think of anything to say to a beautiful girl, the lame protests of someone called out on his bullshit. And the music fits the story; the pulsing beat on "What Is He Thinking?" sounds like the blood pounding in your head when you're so mad you can't talk.

Not awesome: Chris Webber's buzzer three-pointer bouncing in and out. The Kings played very tentatively last night, and they probably deserved to lose. I can't even remember how many times Webber and Brad Miller had open shots they didn't take, how many times Mike Bibby should have stormed the lane. And I'm happy for the Timberwolves: Kevin Garnett playing like a lion on his birthday, the crowd booing Brad Miller every time he touched the ball. But I can't be happy that the Kings' season is over. It just seems sad.