So you've heard Kanye West talking shit like he's the next Michael Jackson, no? If not try this one on for size: "As far as rapping goes, how can I say this? Jordan, Michael Jackson - it's what I do."

I'll admit it. I get off on death. Skeletons. X'd eyes. No, not the phenomenon itself, but certainly the aftermath -- the way it makes you consider what comes ahead and what came before. It's not a kink but a forced form of contemplation.

I have a soft spot in my heart for Los Angeles Times emeritus pop critic Robert Hilburn. Back when I spent more time writing about music than enabling its makers to make a career at it, Bob was kind enough to invite me to the newspaper's dining hall for a pep talk.

One of those little lies you tell undergraduates is that Romanticism-its obsession with unique inner feeling, its obsession with nature-emerged as a result of the Industrial Revolution.