My immediate response to seeing this front page article on Friday was disgust, incredulity, anger — mostly toward CNN for allowing this message a shred of legitimacy, or implying that there’s enough of an argument here to merit prominent coverage from a major news network. The article itself is weak sauce: a mishmash of bullet points detailing alleged “signs of racial anxiety” among whites, miscellaneous quotes from academics and right-wing pundits, a conclusion filled with comment-baiting rhetorical questions about our country’s future, and ultimately an unhelpful shrug: “When you take the long view of human history, change is slow, but change happens.” OK then! That answers that.

Still, it’s been hard for me to dismiss the article altogether, or at least its existence. As of today it’s been recommended on Facebook by 39,830 people. There are over 8,000 comments on the article itself, which I can’t bring myself to read (the one on top declares, “Bush created DHS and used unwarranted wire tapping to find terrorists now Obama uses DHS to track down Americans that do not agree with him. Gradualism and lies is the way of the Marxist”). Yes, it’s a blatant grab for traffic on a Friday afternoon, posing controversial questions that the writer, John Blake, has no intent of actually attempting to answer. But the fact that the questions are being asked at all — and that people are interested in them — has to deserve a closer look.

Blake quotes one striking poll from the Public Religion Institute: “44% of Americans surveyed identify discrimination against whites as being just as big as bigotry aimed at blacks and other minorities. The poll found 61% of those identifying with the Tea Party held that view, as did 56% of Republicans and 57% of white evangelicals.”

The article also references a story that was making the rounds earlier in the week, about an Iraq War veteran and Texas State University student named Colby Bohannan who has started a group to award college scholarships to white males. Bohannan told The Austin American-Statesman: “I felt excluded. If everyone else can find scholarships, why are we left out?” The name of his group: “Former Majority Association for Equality.”

Blake spends a good chunk of his article talking about Glenn Beck’s DC rally and the caucasian throngs who flocked from across the country to attend. Blake gives the last word on the topic to conservative talk show host Chris Plante: “The Beck crowd was no more white than the Jon Stewart rally, but nobody in the news media described the Stewart crowd as overwhelmingly white.”

These are fascinating pieces of a story that deserves more thought than just, “whites have fallen on hard economic times, they’re anxious about the booming hispanic population, and they’ll probably all get over it eventually.” The answer isn’t as simple as embedded racism: Oh, half the white people out there just hate blacks and there’s nothing to be done about it. It isn’t as simple as hardship from the recession: White people were hit especially hard, you know, so where do these folks turn but to point fingers at all the minorities that are doing so well? And it’s certainly not as simple as the power of Fox News: Whites are told they’re a minority every day by Glenn Beck and his ilk, what choice do they have but to listen?

There’s a huge point being missed here: this is a country whose entire identity, whose entire cultural motivation for even existing, is grounded in being an oppressed people. The land was colonized by separatists, those who had divided themselves from a ruling church several times over. The republic was built by those who declared themselves free from the tyranny of an overseas institution in whose rule they had no say.

Election after election has been won by the candidate who most successfully casts himself as the voters see themselves: oppressed by the elitists, the ones who claim power by birthright but have not earned it. Andrew Jackson’s Democratic Party was entirely built on this feeling, and the party has outlived so many others because that feeling is so central to the American psyche.

In recent decades it has been the Republican Party that most successfully takes advantage of the oppressed America ideal. For most of his political career, every time Richard Nixon was mocked by the media elites, those who thought they knew best, the public backed him more (a strategy successfully imitated today by Sarah Palin). Ronald Reagan became the icon of modern conservatism by framing government regulators as the evil oppressors and equating free market principles with individual liberty. In two national elections, George W. Bush was the “guy you’d like to have a beer with” candidate. Why would his wealth or surname matter when his opponents reeked so thoroughly of elitism?

Mona Charen, a National Review columnist quoted in the CNN piece, asks: “Did [white Americans] become racist after electing the first black president?” Despite the fact that there remains a wealth of true racism in this country, she has a point. If you are looking at the numbers showing whites believe they are discriminated against and the huge margin by which Obama won the presidency, and you see a contradiction, you’re looking at it wrong. When Colby Bohannan says his Former Majority Association for Equality isn’t about race, I believe he means it.

Being oppressed is America’s reason to get up in the morning. Its people are fundamentally unable to see themselves as oppressors. Being the underdog, defeating the tyrants and elitists, battling the minority groups who are given things without earning them — whether they be royal monarchs or poor black women looking for scholarships — this is the entire motivation for the country to exist and for its people to be here.

Are whites racially oppressed? This is the wrong question. The right question is the one so many Americans ask themselves every morning: who is oppressing me today, and what can I do to fight back?

CNN: Where’s the diversity at the Oscars?

I really mean it about the “whiter” bit. Not only is the ceremony to be hosted by beloved caucasian icons Anne Hathaway and James Franco, but from what I can see there is a virtual zero percent chance that we see any nonwhite actors or directors nominated (possibly screenwriters too, but I’m not as sure because I don’t know what any of them look like and don’t really care to [and anyway Aaron Sorkin is probably white enough to cancel out anyone who isn't]). The only black actor with even the remotest of chances at a nomination is Halle Berry, who scored a (typically meaningless) Golden Globe nod for a movie called Frankie and Alice that currently has a 20% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. If her name does somehow show up on Oscar nomination day, you can be assured this was done strictly to mitigate this whitepocalypse of a ceremony.

And it really is a shame, too. There are going to be some excellent films nominated this year, but I’m just not seeing a way around the lack of diversity storyline that’s bound to dominate in the press. The Academy Awards ceremony is of course not exactly known for being the most diverse event in the world, but in recent years they’d actually been doing OK — Precious had a great showing a year ago, with numerous nominations and wins for Supporting Actress and Adapted Screenplay. Taraji P. Henson and Viola Davis represented in 2009, Forest Whitaker and Jennifer Hudson both won major awards in 2007, and at the Chris Rock-hosted 2005 ceremony I am fairly sure Jamie Foxx won every single statue and flew away in a helicopter, cackling diabolically while Counting Crows were in mid-performance.

But here in 2011, this is just how it is. Surely there will be plenty of debate over why this is the whitest Oscars in recent memory. Are there quality ethnic films and performances being willfully ignored? If there aren’t, well, why aren’t there? Is the consensus opinion over what makes a “good” movie too biased toward whatever white audiences relate to? I don’t know. I’m just saying, be ready to hear a whole lot more about this.

Anyway, the nominees. For Best Picture, we’re looking at 10, just like last year. There are really only 11 candidates with a good shot at these 10 slots: the 10 already selected by the Producers Guild (usually the most accurate precursor for Best Picture), plus critical favorite and dark horse indie Winter’s Bone. There are another few longshots: Clint Eastwood’s Hereafter, Mike Leigh’s Another Year, the oddly controversial Blue Valentine. But I don’t think any of those has much momentum at this stage.

Basically you’ve got five sure things: Black Swan, The Fighter, Inception, The King’s Speech, and The Social Network (which will win). Each of these has consistently shown up in just about every major precursor. Taking up the remaining slots will be five of the following six: The Kids Are All Right, 127 Hours, The Town, Toy Story 3, True Grit, and Winter’s Bone. Any one of these could find itself left out on nomination day, but my money’s on Winter’s Bone — it didn’t get that all-important PGA nod, and it may simply be too small a film to overcome that. If it does get in, I’d guess the loser would be either 127 Hours (brilliant, but nearly unwatchably so) or The Town (also great, but mostly squeaking by so far thanks to heavy marketing).

Did I mention The Social Network is going to win? You already knew that, right?

On to Best Director. Back when there would be only five Best Picture nominees, they would often be reflected in the Academy’s choices for Best Director. There may be twice as many films nominated per year now, but as I noted before there are really five sure things in 2011. It just so happens that the Directors Guild has already nominated the men who helmed those five sure things for their own awards. You see where I’m going with this?

If any major Oscar category is a done deal, this is it. You’ve got Darren Aronofsky (Black Swan), Tom Hooper (The King’s Speech), Christopher Nolan (Inception), and David O. Russell (The Fighter), all of whom will have the privilege of losing to David Fincher (The Social Network). Notably, out of this bunch only Fincher has been nominated before (well, Nolan got a screenplay nod for Memento, but that’s screenwriting and doesn’t matter). Are there any potential spoilers? The Academy does love the brothers Coen, and Danny Boyle, and Mike Leigh, and maybe that Clint Eastwood guy a little bit. But no.

And now, acting! We’ll do the ladies first. I’m actually really intrigued to see who gets nominated for Best Actress, because you have four no doubters and one huge wild card slot. For months now the race has looked like it’s down to the oft-snubbed veteran (Annette Bening, The Kids Are All Right) vs. the starlet in her prime (Natalie Portman, Black Swan). And while this is probably true, knowing the Academy I have to believe Bening has the edge. In any event, the two of them are in, as are Jennifer Lawrence (Winter’s Bone) and Nicole Kidman (Rabbit Hole).

So here’s where it gets interesting. The Screen Actors Guild usually has the most sway in this stuff, but they’ve given their fifth spot to Hilary Swank in Conviction. Nobody really loved Conviction, and I don’t even think anyone liked Swank in it. People do, however, like giving Hilary Swank awards, and in fact she has won the Best Actress Oscar twice — defeating Annette Bening both times. So it may be tempting to put both in the race for a third time, when Bening may finally get her win.

However, there’s another candidate for this fifth spot who many critics would say deserves it no question: Michelle Williams in Blue Valentine. She’s been nominated for an Oscar before as well, losing Supporting Actress to Rachel Weisz in 2006, but Williams is said by some to give a classic performance this time around. It’s also worth noting that, while Swank got that SAG nod, Williams was given the nod instead by the Golden Globes, the Broadcast Film Critics Association, and others. I actually do think Williams will get in here, and not just because I’m not a big Hilary Swank fan. But it will be close, as will the final showdown between Bening and Portman.

I should note there are dark horses: Lesley Manville for Another Year, Tilda Swinton for I Am Love, and I guess Halle Berry for…diversity. I don’t think there’s room for them, but maybe Manville could sneak in there if Williams and Swank bring each other down.

Best Actor is much more boring this time around. Jeff Bridges and Colin Firth are still riding the wave of last year’s awards successes, and they’ll be showing up again for True Grit and The King’s Speech, respectively. The difference this time around is it will be Firth riding into a win. James Franco will also be here, for his impressive work in 127 Hours. Why he’s also hosting the Oscars in a year when he’s bound to be nominated is anyone’s guess. Jesse Eisenberg’s nomination is guaranteed, because it’s The Social Network and so of course it is. And then the final spot will go to Robert Duvall for a movie called Get Low — no one saw it, but he’s 80 and you gotta have your old guy.

There is only one other actor who could get in here, and that would be Ryan Gosling for Blue Valentine. Gosling’s been nominated once before, but Blue Valentine doesn’t have the level of support required to bump him over legends like Duvall and Bridges. I guess Javier Bardem (Biutiful), Mark Wahlberg (The Fighter), and Paul Giamatti (Barney’s Version) have distant shots, but we’re talking really, really distant.

But wait, you say, what about Johnny Depp? He’s been nominated for not one but TWO Golden Globes, for Alice in Wonderland and The Tourist! To which I respond, are you fucking stupid? I mean, really.

Best Supporting Actress might be the most open major category. You have six viable candidates for five slots, but any one of them could be the one who gets left out — with the exception of Melissa Leo (The Fighter). Leo is favored to win, though it’s not guaranteed. The other five are Amy Adams (The Fighter), Helena Bonham Carter (The King’s Speech), Mila Kunis (Black Swan), Hailee Steinfeld (True Grit), and Jacki Weaver (Animal Kingdom). All have weaknesses: Adams has to deal with being in Leo’s shadow. Carter, in her own way, has to deal with being in both Colin Firth’s and Geoffrey Rush’s shadows. Mila Kunis is very good in Black Swan, but she doesn’t have the capital these other actresses have. Hailee Steinfeld is a revelation, but she’s also very young and may have to deal with a perception of category fraud (she’s clearly the lead in True Grit). Jacki Weaver would seem to be the easy cut — Australian movie no one saw, released earlier in 2010, not a big name actress, no SAG nomination. But it’s not really so clear, as Weaver was nominated by the BFCA and the Golden Globes (who omitted Steinfeld entirely), won this category in the National Board of Review awards, and was named Best Supporting Actress on more critics’ end-of-year lists than anyone (save maybe Leo), including the significant Los Angeles Film Critics Association. The SAG snub may still mean Weaver has the worst odds of the group, but I would not be surprised to see Steinfeld or Kunis lose out.

Last and possibly least in the acting categories is Best Supporting Actor. It’s not a thrilling group in my opinion, but once again we have an area where there’s some question around the fifth slot. Christian Bale has completely dominated this category in the precursors, and no one is in a position to stop him from winning for The Fighter. He’s followed by Geoffrey Rush (The King’s Speech) in distant second place, but he already has his Oscar anyway. Then we have the scene-stealing Jeremy Renner (The Town), and the somehow-never-before-nominated Mark Ruffalo (The Kids Are All Right).

For the fifth spot, we have a situation similar to that with Best Actress: John Hawkes (Winter’s Bone) received a surprise nod from the SAG, where Andrew Garfield (The Social Network) had been expected to show up. Like Michelle Williams, Garfield was named by the BFCA and Golden Globes; like Hilary Swank, Hawkes was ignored by those groups. The main difference is, Hawkes’s performance has received raves across the board, and his movie is well-loved. Hawkes was named the top supporting actor by San Francisco’s film critics, while even the critics groups who liked Sam Rockwell (BFCA) and Juliette Lewis (Boston) in Conviction pretty much ignored Swank. Equally important is that Andrew Garfield is no Michelle Williams. Williams has a history of past nominations and critical adoration, and Garfield’s only just starting out. No doubt he’s fantastic in The Social Network, and could ride its coattails to Oscar night. But Hawkes is a respected veteran who’s never gotten his dues at this level, and I expect him to get in. And then lose to Christian Bale.

Now, let’s do the Screenplay awards. Aaron Sorkin wins Adapted. Will anyone else even be nominated? Do you care? Of course not. There’s also a Best Original Screenplay award, believe it or not, which I guess goes to The King’s Speech guy.

That’s all the big stuff. On January 25th we’ll see if I’m right. And if I am, the next big question to answer: why do I have time to put so much thought into this twaddle?

In the meantime, if you’re bored, why not get hammered on CC: Wine? There’s the CC: Chardonnay, if you’re into that sort of thing, or the CC: Cabernet, if you’re not into that first thing but more into the second. These are wine!

You should probably ignore this post. Maybe I’ll write more about music soon though, eh? Been quite a year on that front.

Last September I wrote a post about the year 2000 in music and what it meant for me personally. It was pretty extensive, and at this rate I’m not going to be able to cover the entire ‘00s decade (whatever we’re supposed to call it) until it’s time to start looking back on the ‘10s. But that said, 2001 was a major year for me and it’s probably worth digging into a little bit, even if I never get around to writing about the other eight years. So I’ll give it a shot and we’ll just see how it goes.

It’s difficult to know where to start with 2001. Once, that year had strictly futuristic, sci-fi connotations. Even more than “the year 2000,” a phrase which had been well overused by the time the actual (rather ho-hum) year came around, 2001 sounded like something bold and new. It was a strong and foreign looking number, no less novel than 2000 but somehow more serious, and more unknowable.

Starting the year off with George W. Bush’s inauguration brought 2001 back down to Earth, and fast. Now he is remembered mostly for the absurd amount of damage he caused to the world and to his country during his interminable reign, but prior to September 11th he was just kind of a joke. The image of awkward, bumbling incompetence is one he was never able to shake, but in early 2001 that was his only image. Remember That’s My Bush? He was a sit-com character, a charmingly inept doofus who had the presidency handed to him. John Ashcroft as Attorney General? It was laughable. Not that many didn’t recognize how dangerous the situation was, but it just didn’t seem possible that this administration would have a chance to do too much irreversible damage.

Of course, it did, and the only association with 2001 that matters now in this country could not be further from A Space Odyssey. But this post is supposed to be about the music, and about me. So where was I? Still in high school, getting my driver’s license, spending time with my girlfriend. I was on the upswing from the worst of my experiences with depression. I was engaging with people more, relaxing more, and just generally doing more. Musically, I was more confident than ever — my Bob’s Discount Furniture gig (and I’m not knocking it — that was a great high school job) allowed me to spend more on CDs than I’m sure I should have, and as a result I was starting to explore some of the depths of rock music that I’d never gotten to before. It must have been 2001 when I discovered XTC and bought their entire catalogue, a couple pieces at a time. And I must have bought music by Neil Young, and Television, and The Stone Roses, and Love, and Big Star — still all physical copies, though my pre-iPod MP3 library was beginning to get serious.

My personal memories of 2001 are really very positive. I’m sure I had meltdowns, and panic attacks about my future, and made stupid mistakes. But looking back, the pieces were coming together a little bit, and I think you can see that in the music I was listening to. It wasn’t all just broody and introspective anymore — I was opening up. If you had asked me at the time I wouldn’t have told you I felt dramatically better or different from a year prior, and I really would have meant it. But I didn’t have perspective.

So how to reconcile the 2001 I experienced personally with the 2001 we all wish we could forget ever happened? Let’s take a look at the contemporary music I was listening to at the time, and see if it helps to make any sense of it.

The Shins

This band would very quietly do more than any other to break indie pop into the mainstream (with the aid of Zach Braff, for some bizarre reason). But in 2001 we weren’t there yet, and The Shins’ debut album was just the kind of exciting, under-the-rader release that would have infatuated me: catchy and melodic, lo-fi and obscure. It was like being able to pretend The Beatles had only influenced this small cult of music lovers, and I was in the club. I was still probably really insufferable with this shit. But I wanted sounds that felt personal and were just for me, without necessarily being mopey or cerebral. As I’ve said, as a little kid in the ‘80s I grew up on Squeeze, not on Joy Division. So if 2001 was the year I transitioned into wanting both worlds — the depth and the superficiality, the introspection and the sense of fun — then it makes sense it would also be the year I started obsessing over XTC, and considered The Shins’ Oh, Inverted World to be a standout release. Fortunately, there was a whole lot more of this kind of thing to come out over the course of the decade, so I really couldn’t have timed it better.

And yes, well before Garden State, “New Slang” felt like a classic.

Radiohead Again

But let’s not get carried away with the indie pop stuff. Radiohead was still the center of my universe, I probably listened to Kid A more than any other album in 2001, and there were no signs that this would be changing at any time. I obsessively counted the days leading to the release of Amnesiac in the summer of 2001, especially since it was to feature some live standouts that had been excluded from Kid A’s tracklist a year prior (”Pyramid Song,” “Knives Out”).

And it was a disappointment. Maybe it was the relatively quick release after putting out a classic record, or maybe I had just ruined the listening experience by downloading one badly-encrypted mp3 after another as they leaked over the spring. Certainly this was a brand new way to experience a record for the first time, and the negatives probably outweighed the positives.

Amnesiac wasn’t all that well-received in general, either. It sounds all over the place, as you might expect from a record assembled from the same sessions that had already produced one immaculately sculpted CD (some referred to it as Kid B-side). Interestingly though, its reputation has increased a lot in the years since. It’s gained a lot of respect as Radiohead’s most fragmented, schizophrenic, and experimental album. Many critics took the opportunity to up their initial scores of Amnesiac when EMI rereleased the Radiohead catalogue at the end of the decade. History has given the record less a sense of “these guys have lost it” and more of a “that’s that cool weird one from ’01.”

I love many of the songs on Amnesiac individually. That year I participated in an afterschool music criticism class, led by The Hartford Courant’s classical critic Steve Metcalf. For one assignment I played “Pyramid Song” for my peers (one of the leaked, pre-release mp3s) and extolled the band’s genius for a good ten minutes. I still think Amnesiac is their least successful album as a single listening experience. I just have no emotional attachment to it. But it did nothing to hinder my adoration for the band, and when I saw them at Suffolk Downs that August it was absolutely thrilling.

Another thought — maybe Amnesiac is more respected now because its insanity seems well suited to how we collectively remember the year 2001. Things hadn’t totally gone to hell yet, but maybe it took a pessimist like Thom Yorke to show us where we were headed.

Sparklehorse

I didn’t know much about Sparklehorse when I bought It’s a Wonderful Life. I’d heard about the band mainly through connected artists like PJ Harvey and Tom Waits, both of whom appeared on this album. It was also produced in part by Dave Fridmann, the master of bombast who defined the sound of The Flaming Lips’ classic The Soft Bulletin. These would have been more than enough reasons for me to buy the CD blind.

Mark Linkous was the mastermind behind Sparklehorse. He reminded me a bit of E from the Eels — his music was almost painfully private, his voice always sounding like it was coming from inside your own head. There was somehow more pain in Linkous’s music, though — where E embraced soul-baring honesty, Linkous found ways to obscure himself, and it could be scary.

Linkous committed suicide this past March. I loved this album as soon as I heard it, but it was a hard one to listen to very often. It’s certainly no easier now.

The Strokes and The White Stripes

I should talk about the big players in 2001, and that would be these guys. The Strokes, you may recall, were going to “save rock and roll!” Or something. I think The Hives were supposed to do that too, and The Vines. But those bands weren’t very good, and The Strokes, it turned out, were.

Did rock really need saving in 2001? I don’t know. I guess few were making high quality, straight up guitar rock at the turn of the millennium. But take the whole idea of saving rock out of the equation and you’re left with a really great album in The Strokes’ debut, Is This It. I liked it a lot at the time, but I am kind of amazed how good it still sounds. There’s nothing original about it, but there is something in that straightforward post-punk sound that makes it ageless.

The album didn’t come out in the US until October, and it became one of the more infamous post-September 11th releases — one of its best songs, “New York City Cops,” was replaced with a weaker song at the last minute to avoid controversy.

And then we have The White Stripes, who became instant icons in 2001 with their third album, White Blood Cells. Jack White probably did more to save guitar rock than The Strokes did, frankly. You just could not get away from this album after it hit, and for good reason. You aren’t going to see many best-of-the-decade lists exclude this one. Does it hold the same position for me personally? I guess not — I don’t listen to it with any kind of regularity anymore.

But I can’t argue that White Blood Cells and Is This It both rock, and rock convincingly, which we maybe had forgotten how to do for a few years.

Gorillaz

Damon Albarn is a musical hero of mine — an incredible douchebag, but a true genius, nonetheless. By 2001 I’d been well into Blur for at least a good four or five years. But the idea that Damon was going to do a hip hop album fronted by cartoon characters did not hold a ton of appeal for me. First of all, I really was not open to appreciating hip hop yet. Secondly, I took my love of Blur very seriously, and instead of working on another album Damon was going to take some time off to focus on a cartoon band? What the fuck?

So I avoided buying this for a while, but after I finally caved, I felt like an idiot. It’s a really good record. Forget about the cartoon bit — what you have here is Albarn just being himself and messing with different genres outside of the Blur mold, throwing things together to see what happens. Not all of it works, but an impressive amount of it does, mainly just due to the guy’s raw talent. Even when he’s just screwing around with a half-assed melody and a drum machine (and there is more than a little bit of that kind of thing here), it’s pretty great.

Blur, it turned out, was nearly over by this time anyway. Gorillaz wasn’t some trivial side project, but a new way for Albarn to explore legitimate musical ideas. It would in fact be his primary outlet for the rest of the decade.

Low

Low had already been around for some time, but I didn’t discover them until 2001’s standout Things We Lost in the Fire. It is one of the most beautiful albums of the decade. I’m finding it’s a tough one to write about, but it needs to be singled out. Listen to it yourself.

Additional Notes

I bought Super Furry Animals’ Rings Around the World while vacationing in Ireland with my family in August 2001. “Juxtaposed With U” was actually getting a ton of airplay there, which I loved. It’s not SFA’s best album, but it is very good, and it contains the wonderful “Run! Christian, Run!”

I spent a lot of time listening to Spiritualized’s Let It Come Down in 2001. It’s one of those records I found myself in love with at that point in my life, which doesn’t do much for me anymore.

R.E.M., which I still considered to be my favorite band of all time in ’01, released their first terrible record that year. Reveal was very, very hard to come to terms with, and I spent many weeks trying to convince myself it wasn’t so bad. Three years later, they would come back with Around the Sun, which was even worse. The inevitable decline can be a hard thing to watch.

Björk’s Vespertine was another 2001 standout, and the first CD of hers I bought new after becoming a fan. I’m not always in the mood for it, but it is one of her better efforts.

Elbow’s Asleep in the Back is one I’m not ashamed to love. I played this many, many times, and though they were thought to be a kind of Coldplay whose songs weren’t catchy enough to make it, I think they need to be considered on their own merits. You listen to “Powder Blue” and tell me you don’t feel something.

Destroyer and Spoon both put out excellent CDs in 2001 that I wouldn’t catch until a few years later. Destroyer’s Streethawk: A Seduction in particular I think is one of the decade’s best, and represents Dan Bejar at his most compellingly weird.

Best song of the year: Super Furry Animals — “Run! Christian, Run!”

Best album of the year: Low — Things We Lost in the Fire

Best concert of the year: Has to be Radiohead. It was my first chance to see them as a fanatic (I had seen them open for R.E.M. when I was 11, but that barely counts). Finally being old enough to start driving to shows with friends was a huge deal. Also, I got to see the band play “Pearly*,” and that’s just awesome.

Most overrated album of the year: Daft Punk — Discovery. Look, I know, “Digital Love” is great and everything. You are never going to convince me that “One More Time” is not annoying as fuck.

Worst song of the year: “It’s Been Awhile” came in 2001. “How You Remind Me” as well. Crazy Town, enough said there. There’s no lack of choice here. But I am going to go with the song that drove me craziest that year — the horrible, horrible Moulin Rouge version of “Lady Marmalade” by Christina Aguilera, Pink, Lil’ Kim, Mya, and Satan. You could not escape it, and I wished every day that I could.

Actually, I will say more about Crazy Town. According to Wikipedia, “‘Butterfly’ is one of only two No. 1 songs in the Hot 100 era naming an insect in its title (the other being ‘Fireflies’ by Owl City).” So now you know.

Next: College! War! And Yankee Hotel Fuckin’ Foxtrot! It’s everyone’s favorite palindrome, 2002!

The Shins – “New Slang”

Radiohead – “Pyramid Song” live in Paris, 2001

Sparklehorse – “It’s a Wonderful Life”

The Strokes – “New York City Cops” live

The White Stripes – “Fell in Love with a Girl” (obviously)

Low – “Sunflower”

Super Furry Animals – “Run! Christian, Run!”

Elbow – “Powder Blue”

As with all US Senators, LeMieux has his own subdomain on senate.gov. It is now the top result in Google for such terms as “George LeMieux” and “Senator LeMieux.”

Here, on October 27, is a snapshot of that Google result:

The site is ranking, the content is in place. But how many of LeMieux’s constituents have been confused and perhaps turned away entirely simply because the Google snippet says he represents Louisiana? (And if they then decided to get in touch with their other Senator instead, that would be Bill Nelson — a Democrat.)

Always, always, always remember your meta description tags, kids. Otherwise you could find yourselves getting screwed by somebody just because they figure your last name sounds cajun.

(…and yes, the “Email Senator Martinez” link is problematic, too. More defensible, as LeMieux did replace him not that long ago, but it still never should have been found on lemieux.senate.gov in the first place.)