In The Big Inning...

So, in the past few years, "talking head" sport shows have gotten out of the control. There's "Pardon The Interruption" with Tony Kornheiser and Michael Wilbon from the Washington Post, which kind of paved the way. This show is actually entertaining and sometimes insightful. But there now are all these little spin-offs and stolen bits, such as "The Hot Seat" and "Fact or Fiction" and "You're Wrong, Dumbass!" Often, these shows offer very little insight into the sport itself (as opposed to listening to Peter Gammons talk for two minutes, or interviewing Peyton Manning about his technique), but are full of bluster and shouting, without any real content.

One of the reasons these shows lack substance is because they thrive on controversy. When there is controversy, everyone's talking about it, so they beat it into the ground, a la the Pistons-Pacers brawl. When there's no controversy, they have to make up something to argue about, as if the sports they're discussing aren't compelling enough to stand on their own. So there's this never-ending machine of programming that needs content. The latest bit of idiocy (which is being propagated beyond TV and into every sports opinion writer's column) is how horrible the NFC is in football, and how a sub-.500 team might make the playoffs, and how this would be a disaster of unfathomable consequence.

Let me explain a bit, if you're unfamiliar with how the NFL playoffs work. The 32 teams are split into two conferences: the AFC and the NFC. Each conference has four divisions, with four teams apiece. In each conference, the four division winners make the playoffs, as well as two wild card teams (based on best record). So, that's six teams from each conference. Now, in the NFL, unlike in, say, baseball, each team plays a full quarter of its schedule (four games) against teams from the other conference. This year is a strange case, because the AFC has some fantastic teams (five are 10-5 or better), whereas the NFC...does not (two at 10-5 or better). In the inter-conference play, the AFC has basically been beating the tar out of the NFC. Therefore, thanks to the wild card, it's reasonable likely that there will be a 10-6 team in the AFC that does not make the playoffs, while a 7-9 does make it. And then CHAOS WILL ENSUE!

So that's what these talking heads have been yapping about: This is so unfair. This needs to be fixed. This is a black eye on the NFL. No, it's not. It's just the way things worked out this time. That's what happens when you have only four teams in a division (so it's more likely that a 8-8 or 9-7 teams wins it), and conferences play each other so often (allowing on conference to "steal" all the wins from the other one). But it's not a bad thing. In fact, one of the possibly 7-9 teams, Carolina, may actually be better than some of the AFC playoffs teams. What's that, you say? Well, Carolina started the season 1-7. Since then, they've gone on a tear, and even if they end up at 7-9, that means they won 6 out of their last 8 games, and are playing quite well. Do they deserve to make the playoffs? If they qualify, then you betcha. Of course, in the AFC, the Bills have done pretty much the same thing, starting out 1-5, and now having won 6 in a row. They may end up with a 10-6 record and not make the playoffs. Do they deserve to make the playoffs? Well, not if they don't qualify. That's the point - you set up your rules, and then you play by them.

Now, some might argue that the rules don't make sense. I think it's silly to have just one result that you don't like (a sub-.500 team making the playoffs) and then change things drastically. But that's what some of these talking heads have been suggesting: This situation needs to be fixed. Well, nothing's really broken. I don't think the man on the street cares one bit about some 7-9 team making the playoff if he gets to see good football. Well, maybe if they guy's on the street in Buffalo he does, but to him, I say that had his team picked it up a bit at the beginning of the season, there would be no problem. Some people have suggested that the wild card teams should come from either conference, so that the four total wild card teams could come entirely from the AFC this year. Of course, that would mean the playoffs would be a mess, with NFC and AFC teams meeting in the first round. Honestly, this problem would likely go away if you just reduced the number of inter-conference games. Then the NFC would have enough wins to go around. Of course, you could still get a strange situation in which all the teams were about equal except for the division winners, thus still allowing an 7-9 playoff team in, but so what? You need to be one of the top 6 teams in your conference to go to the playoffs - those are the standards.

Maybe the solution is just to have one big 32-team division. The top 12 make it, and the bottom 20 stay home. No conferences. Heck, with inter-conference play, do the conferences really mean anything? Forget divisional-rivalries - we're a global community anyways, right? Then everything would be fair and square. Except them some teams wouldn't face each other, so some lucky team would sneak by against weaker opponents. That would be unfair too! Maybe there should be a 31-game schedule so each team plays every other team once. But what about injuries? I mean, some team could be strong at the beginning of the season and weak at the end, so a team could still skate by, getting lucky by facing only stronger teams at their weaker moments. Gosh, I don't know what to do. Life in the NFL is just so unfair.

So, a little more than a year ago, Samantha and I started living together. As such, we started sleeping in the same bed on a regular basis. And in doing so, we somehow picked our own sides of the bed to use. This past weekend, Sam and I went to Key West, and stayed in a hotel. Without any forethought, we naturally chose the same side of the bed as we have at home. Already, in a year, it's become instinct for us, which is actually kind of surprising. However, this isn't really all that strange - I mean, my clock radio is on my side of the bed at home, and hers in on her side, so why wouldn't we stay on our sides? And, even though the bed at a hotel isn't the same bed, and there's no real difference between bed sides, I can believe that the behavior has just become ingrained. However, I have to wonder if it goes beyond that.

I believe that I still retain some of my caveman instincts. For instance, I really prefer to have my sleeves rolled up, so that my hairy forearms are bared at all times. Why? I guess to serve as a sign of my manliness to anyone who might challenge me to a duel, beat me over the head, and steal my woman. And another strange instinct - I will naturally choose a seat in a public place that offers the greatest view of the rest of the establishment. It's not an overriding desire, but a subtle one that I don't quite completely understand. It must be so that I can size up any potential threats as they enter the room. Clearly, I live very dangerously.

Ok, so if those behaviors, which are quite obviously no longer necessary to enhance my safety, have somehow been perpetuated naturally, then maybe others have those behaviors as well. And if that's the case, then maybe Sam and my bed-side-choosing isn't simply because of the sides we randomly chose at home, but maybe there's some deep-seated reason. Maybe it has to do with the poles. Maybe it has to do with most men being right-handed, and being able to keep a weapon on the right side of the bed. I have no idea, honestly.

The first step is to conduct a scientific study. I'll start with myself - if you're lying on my bed, facing the ceiling - get the hell off of my bed! But if I'm lying on my bed, facing the ceiling, then I am on the right side, and Sam is on the left. (Assuming my head is on the pillow.) I also know that my father sleeps on the right side. And that's about it. When Sam and I lived in separate places, and I would sleep over at her place, I would sometimes sleep on the left, because her bedstand was on the right side...and it never quite felt right.

So, what about the rest of you? What bed-sided are you? Maybe there's something greater here. Maybe we'll cure prostate cancer. I'll start the Nobel application now.

Who makes those retarded molded plastic pieces of packaging? I wonder how many jugular veins are severely annually when children are struggling trying to open their video game or action figure or electric razor or what have you. I'm willing to concede that this may be the least expensive method of packaging something while keeping it visible, and allowing it to be hung on a sales rack. But I can't tell you how many times I've sliced my finger or pulled a muscle trying to bend the packaging open just far enough to retreive the treasure inside. For the consumer, there's really nothing beneficial about the packaging. It's just tough enough to thwart some scissors. It's just resilient enough to not tear to easily with your hands. It's just sharp enough to cut your skin. And it's just inflexible enough to take up half of your trash can when you throw it away, and then stab you again the next time you walk by the trash can, because a jagged edge is still sticking out. Of course, it's just plastic, so it seems innocuous, but it truly is plastic packaging of doom. Just so all you consumer goods manufacturers know: I will be willing to pay the difference in price if you were to just put everything in a cardboard box or at least a cardboard-backed, plastic-fronted case. Thanks for your understanding.

Time selected Bush as "Person of the Year". I find this amusing because it really reminds me of the beer ad I mentioned a couple of posts ago. You know, the one where Bud Light has been voted the beer with the most taste, not necessarily the best taste. To me, Bush is about as palatable as a glass of vinegar. Maybe he's an acquired taste.

And as long as I'm talking about his personality (not his politics), I really wanted to see him lose just because I was looking forward to his concession speech. I honestly could not picture it in my mind. I half figured that he wouldn't even know he had lost, because I didn't know if he had any subordinates who would be willing to tell him, and it's not like he watches the news. I wonder if he would have just shown up for the inauguration, and then saw Kerry there, and the Rehnquist (if he was alive at the time) would have had to inform him that the celebration wasn't for him.

Now, I guess I'm going to have to wait until history views him as positively as Nixon for him to get his come-uppance. Oh well, I'm patient fellow.

Ah, the good old days. Remember back, when you were just a teenager? When music was played on CDs or even tapes? I know it may be hard to remember that bygone era, but if you lift the haze of nostalgia, you can almost make out a scene in your mind...

Cars without airbags. No one had the internet or even knew what it was. The President was too busy lying to his wife to lie to the rest of the country. Carrot Top was flourishing. Reality TV was limited to "The Real World", not the vicious parasite that now engulfs all other programming. And for ridiculous melodramatic teeny-bopper shows, we hadn't yet been welcome to the O.C. (bitch), as we were too busy running around Beverly Hills, 90210.

And, good old classic rock was playing on the radio. You know, classics like "Mr. Jones", by the Counting Crows. What's that you say? The Counting Crows are not classic rock? Why, I beg your pardon! I just heard them playing on a classic rock station last night. They must be classic rock. Or, I'm going insane.

I think it's the latter, actually. "Mr. Jones" was released in 1993. JUST ELEVEN YEARS AGO! It CAN'T be classic rock! I don't think something becomes classic after ten years. You know, on this particular radio station, I've heard them play some current stuff. Once in a while, they'll play 80s rock, like Def Leppard and Guns N' Roses. I can kind of cut them some slack there - it's at least 2 decades ago. (And we all know that music can easily be grouped into decades.) Sometimes, I'll hear them play something like "Love In An Elevator", by Aerosmith, which was also released in the 90s. But I can also cut them some slack there, because even if that song isn't classic rock, Aerosmith is a classic rock band, and it makes sense that fans of their 70s stuff might be interested in what they're doing now. Same with the Rolling Stones and Elvis Presley. What, Elvis isn't still alive? Well, he's just as alive as Keith Richards is.

But Adam freaking Duritz is not a classic rocker. The Counting Crows are not classic! Even if you really really really like them, you can't make that argument. They only have like 4 albums! Maybe if Adam Duritz had dated someone like Pat Benetar, you could make that argument. It would be creepy, but you could make the argument. Instead, he has dated Courteney Cox. She married David Arquette! Nothing associated with David Arquette should come anywhere near "classic". No, not even the movie "Eight-Legged Freaks".

I rarely watch commercials, thanks to The-Device-That-Is-Too-Powerful-To-Be-Named, but for sporting events, it's somewhat inevitable. This means that I usually end up seeing the same commercials over and over again. The one that puzzles me the most is the Coors ad in which they claim to be the "coldest-tasting beer". Now, I'm not a beer drinker at all - I find it nasty, frankly. But I'm still confused - cold is not an adjective normally associated with taste. I've drank sodas that were cold, but they didn't TASTE cold - they FELT cold. In fact, the only taste that I even associate with cold is that of freezer-burned food. So can someone explain this to me?

By the way, the post title refers to one of the funnier lines on Friends, in which Chandler exclaims that something (I forget what), that some food he has just eaten "tastes like evil". Now, that makes sense to me. Well, at least it makes more sense than "cold-tasting". And while we're talking about stupid beer ads, I'm also particularly amused by the ads in which Budweiser has been voted as the beer with the most taste. Not necessarily the best taste, as the disclaimer on the bottom of the screen makes clear, but the MOST taste. You know what would have even MORE taste? A glass of vinegar.

Ok, well, they're not good for you in the general sense, but they are good for your coordination. Sam and I recently bought a GameCube, and we've been playing more video games as of late. Now that I'm older, it's interesting to look back on video games and how they've affected me.

I wouldn't say I was a video game addict as a kid, but I definitely enjoyed playing Nintendo and Genesis. I think I was probably about average in terms of time spent playing Nintendo, at least in late elementary school and middle school, and maybe even a bit in high school. Then, at some point, I discovered real human beings, instead of virtual ones, and I pretty much ceased all video game playing until after graduating college. Believe me, at school there were plenty of opportunities to have an all-night Doom-dorkfest, but for the most part, I resisted.

Sam's experiences were quite different. Because she's much more mature than I, it seems that she never really indulged in video games as a kid, and is just now starting to learn how to play them. It's interesting for me to observe her play and have to learn skills and conventions that were just ingrained in me, and that I had never really even though about.

Let me give you a few examples: The first is just basic eye-hand coordination. There's no doubt that video games improve your coordination, and that's readily apparent. It still takes Sam a bit more time to react to things occurring on the screen. Her learning curve is pretty quick, though. However, beyond that, there's timing. For instance, in many video games, players have to time jumps onto moving platforms. For me, this is second nature, but for Sam, she really has to focus on it. Her skills of anticipation just weren't that developed, but it's actually quite entertaining to watch her learn. She does pick it up pretty quickly.

Then, there are the puzzle-type games. A lot of these games (often role-playing games, but a lot of action games are incorporating puzzles nowadays) involve gather hints about something and then tracking down some item. What's amusing to me is that just like film conventions, I've learned video game conventions. Items are under boxes, or in trees, or buried under an oddly-colored patch of dirt. When Sam watches me and I find a "secret" easily, she often wonders how I knew it was there, as if I was some type of video game savant. Sometimes I wonder too - it scares me that these have become second-nature to me, but it's also pretty amusing. I think these will take longer for her to learn, but it's fun to watch.

The final concept that seems to be important to have learned about video games is patience. I'm pretty anal-retentive when it comes to finishing games - I want to complete every single task and beat every single level before I stop playing. This usually requires a ton of patience. As a kid, I spent countless days repeating the same levels over and over again, trying to beat some seemingly impossible task. I'd keep trying, day and night, leaving the machine on pause if I got somewhere that I likely couldn't reach again easily. I'm sure this led to the premature demise of my NES, and some higher than usual power bills. At any rate, Sam sees me play these games and make progress more quickly than her, and thinks that's just how it's supposed to be. She never went through the days or weeks of repetition before finally getting to the next level. For some games in which you had to start at the beginning every time you played, I could do the first couple of levels in my sleep because I had beaten them so many times, in order to access the later levels. It's (somewhat sadistically) entertaining to see Sam struggle with certain levels and expect to beat them after just ten or twenty attempts. But oh, the satisfaction she receives when she finally does!

Unintentionally, I think I just made a pretty compelling case of why video games (in moderation, of course) are actually good for kids. They increase eye-hand coordination. They teach you about reasoning and deduction. They reward patience and determination. As for whether video games are good for 26-year-old women, well that remains to be seen.

I came ever-so-close to gambling greatness this past weekend. In the global sense, I really wasn't that close, but I certainly almost bested a personal record. Here's how it all went down:

Kevin planned a trip to Atlantic City for his birthday. Of course, his birthday was in November, but hey, do you really need an excuse to go to AC? At any rate, I drove Kevin and Seth "Tight Pants" Tardiff up on Saturday. The drive was smooth. Fred "Good Pull" Gao and Justin "Schmidt-Faced" Schmidt" were planning to us there. We had a good group.

I always set a limit on my losses. This time I brought 500 dollars, not willing to lose more than that. Atlantic City is usually pretty crowded on the weekends, and this time was no exception, although it certainly wasn't any more crowded than usual. We found a 10 dollar blackjack table, which is about as good as couple be expected.

I was up and down, but won about 30 bucks. I then dropped about 70 bucks somewhere else. Justin and Fred arrived, and threw their bags in my car. We then all proceeded over to Trump Plaza and found a 15 dollar table that had 5 seats open, and made ourselves comfortable.

Right off the bat, things started going well. Most of us were counting cards (a few of us are decent card counters, although it's still work for us), and just having a good time. The dealer (Angela) wasn't too friendly, but we were still goofing around. Justin, in particular, was acting like a big idiot, which ended up paying off.

The count got really good, and we started increasing our bets to around 25 bucks. At some point, both Justin and I got deal 20s against a dealer 5 or 6. I told him that I'd split them if he would. The count was fantastic, and while I'm not sure exactly what it's supposed to be to warrant such a strange move, we went for it, trying to appear that we were just being goofy. I think I won my split, and he lost. The dealer looked at us strangely, and the pit boss came over.

We just played it up, and the pit boss wondered what the hell we were thinking, saying "Why would you give up a sure winner?". We explained that we thought she'd bust, and he couldn't quite see the logic in it. Of course one might expect an experienced pit boss to immediately tell that we were counting, but either he wasn't as experienced as he looked, or he just had seen so many legitimate idiots in his time that our behavior wasn't really that uncommon. We were happy to have him think us fools.

I ended the shoe up around 200 bucks, and everyone else was around even, except for Fred, who had been slowly accumulating his stack. After another great shoe went by, I was back down to even, and everyone else was up a couple hundred. I was a bit frustrated by this point.

The game progressed, and I started betting 20 or 30 bucks. Seth and Fred had been steadily increasing their bets, and were up to 40 or 50 bucks. I usually bet 25 bucks, and for a whole shoe, I couldn't lose. I'd double-down and win 50 bucks at a time. I ended that shoe up around 400 bucks. We did some crazy counting maneuvers in there too, and no one batted an eye, as Justin played up his goofiness, and we all fooled around with the dealer, who had finally been replaced by this point.

The luck continued. Up a few hundred, I now started betting 50 bucks a hand. At one point, on a good count, Justin bet 100 dollars, and split it and doubled down, winning 300 bucks in one fell swoop. There were some huge hands, and some back and forth. Fred, in particular, kept getting stuck with 13s, 14s, and 15s that he had to hit, and always managed to get a soft card that put him around 19 or 20 - hence the name "Good Pull" Gao.

At around 8:00 (we started around 6), the pit boss came over and asked us if we wanted to be rated. We gave him our IDs, and it was pretty opportune, as we all looked like much higher rollers with big stack of chips in front of us and 50 dollar bets on the table.

We finally stopped at 9:30. The pit boss asked us what we wanted, and we requested dinner for 5. He gave us each 20 dollar vouchers. Of course, this was pittance compared to the aggregate $3000 we had one. I ended up being the big winner, cashing out up $900 dollars. Since I had bought in for $100, I really wanted to take my $1000 total and get an orange $1000 chip, but they didn't have any, so I settled for two purple $500 chips. Hey, life's rough sometimes.

On Sunday, we headed over to the Borgata. I played some poker, and a couple other games, and lost a couple hundred. Then, I went over to 3 Card Poker and played for a couple hours. I hit a $600 dollar hand, putting me at $1050 for the trip. Unfortunately, I continued to play a little longer, and by early evening, I was back to up $900. I did fare better than most everyone else, as they had lost a decent amount back to the house, and only a couple of them were still up.

We were gearing up to leave, but I wanted to make one big bet before leaving. On my previous trips, I've waited until I was ready to go, and made one single hundred dollar blackjack bet. The first time I tried it, it was really nerve-wracking, but I won, so I couldn't complain. Then, the second and third times I tried it, it worked as well. It's kind of an unhealthy habit to have, but I figured as long as I did it when I was up, there was very little harm to it.

Now, my only worry is that, like any drug (my choice is apparently adrenaline), I was developing a tolerance. Having played 50 dollar blackjack the previous night, and having had up to 150 dollars on the table for a couple of bets, one single hundred dollar bet didn't seem so exciting any more. Seth suggested that I take 400 of my 900 and either turn it into a grand, or lose it. In the worst case, I'd walk home up 500 dollars, which was not too shabby of a haul. I figured this was my shot for greatness, and for my thousand dollar chip.

I strolled over to the high-limit tables, with Fred and Kevin at my side. I was nervous this time, because I knew that every hand was significant. I sat down at a 100 dollar table between two guys who had stacks of around two thousand dollars. Let me tell you, the high-limit area in the Borgata is pretty nice. I thought I saw one guy sneer at me when I just pulled out four 100 dollar bills from my wallet and lay them on the felt.

The first shoe went kind of quickly. I won one, I lost one. I lost one, then I won one. I never really got above 600 or below 400. The second shoe started, and I was on a roll. I hit a blackjack, winning 150 bucks. I doubled down and one, and that was 200 dollars. Before I knew it, I was up to 850.

They brought in a new dealer, one that dealt as fast as I had ever seen. I briefly considered betting 150 on one hand, so I could just get to my goal and be done. But then I was worried about having to split or double, or not having any money to tip with. In retrospect, that was pretty dumb. So I played another 100 dollar hand and won again! 950! I was almost there! I was going to walk home up 1500 bucks! That would be an impressive haul!

And then the avalanche of pain began. I lost, and lost again. I hit a blackjack, and then lost eight straight hands. 950 dollars disappeared faster than I could sneeze. The dealer hit three blackjacks, and hit 21 a couple times as well. Poof! It was gone!

So, that was it. I was close to greatness. Some of my more cynical readers might note that I actually lost 950 dollars that was mine, but I prefer not to look at it that way. I won 500 dollars over a weekend, and will reach my goal one day soon. I will achieve gambling Greatness.

It's official. The best song ever is "Like A Rolling Stone", by Bob Dylan. How do I know? Well, Rolling Stone told me in their list of the 500 greatest rock and roll songs of all time.

Clearly, this is a subjective thing. Although, it would be nice if they didn't reveal the list's complete lack of validity right off the bat by picking a song that really isn't even close to the best ever only because they happened to name their magazine after it. I mean, if you're going to make such a list, let's at least keep up the farce for the first 100 songs or so.

Now, as I said, lists like these are usually pretty darn stupid. I've mentioned before, when discussing the Grammys, that music is especially subjective, and that's why the Grammys end up being so retarded. I've argued that movies are not AS subjective, and that's why the AFI lists of the top movies ever aren't nearly as absurd.

So, let's look at some of the selections. Right off the bat, "Like A Rolling Stone" isn't such a good choice. It's really not that compelling or exciting, and while I suppose it may have been a nice mesh of folk and rock, I don't think it really revolutionized things.

Number 2 is "Satisfaction", by the Rolling Stones. Hey, more silly bias! But you can make some sort of argument for this, although most people I know actually prefer "Sympathy for the Devil". I mean, honestly, that's just a far better song, but "Satisfaction" is somewhat respectable. I wouldn't put it at 2, but maybe in the top 50.

Number 3 is "Imagine" by John Lennon. Why? It's kind of sweet, and maybe great for certain idealistic background music, but it's not the third best rock and roll song ever. Can you honestly say that it's better than everything the Beatles ever wrote? John Lennon was better without Paul McCartney? No, no, no. I don't know if this song even makes my list of the top 500.

Number 4 is "What's Going On" by Marvin Gaye. I guess this is ok too. Not my cup of tea, but a good song, politically relevant, and powerful. Plus, you got the sad Marvin Gaye story there too. A decent choice.

Number 5 is "Respect" by Aretha Franklin. It's tough to argue with this one. A classic, and definitely has worked its way into the collective American psyche.

Number 6 is "Good Vibrations" by the Beach Boys. I'd probably go with "California Girls", or "Kokomo" (just kidding!) but this is a decent selection.

Number 7 is "Johnny B. Goode" by Chuck Berry. THIS should be number 1. Chuck Berry was one of the guys who invented rock and roll. This song was revolutionary, has clever lyrics, and is still tons of fun to listen to. It's better than "Imagine", that's for sure.

Number 8 is "Hey Jude" by the Beatles. I love the Beatles. But this is NOT the best Beatles song. Not even close. I honestly don't know what I'd select - maybe "Let It Be" ? I personally prefer "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band", but I know most people don't. How about "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" ? Or "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" ? Or "Can't Buy Me Love" ? Or, or, or...something else besides "Hey Jude".

Number 9 is "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana. Er, ok. Whatever. Let's give some credit to recent music, and may have launched the alternative movement, but really, it only lasted for like five years. I suppose this is the seminal grunge song, but is it really that good? What about "Would" by Alice in Chains? Or "Outshined" by Soundgarden? These songs should be lower down. Maybe history will prove me wrong, and people will view Nirvana in 30 years like they view Led Zeppelin now, but I don't think so.

Number 10 is "What I'd Say" by Ray Charles. I guess that's fine with me. I don't really know this song.

So, you'll notice that there's no Elvis in the top 10, but Nirvana's there. Elvis' highest song is "Hound Dog", at 19. Pretty good, but I'd choose "Burnin' Love" or "Can't Help Falling In Love", or maybe "Jailhouse Rock". But Elvis should generally be higher. If you're going to recognize Nirvana for their contribution to rock by ranking them high, then you have to do so for Elvis.

It's also interesting to rank them by year. If you look at the last set, you see that only 65 of the songs came in the past 20 years. (There are only 66 years covered total.) The most recent songs there are "Hey Ya" by OutKast, and "Lose Yourself" and "Stan" by Eminem, and "Bitter Sweet Symphony" by the Verve. "Hey Ya" is a good song, but it'll wear off soon. "Lose Yourself" is not even one of Eminem's top 5 songs, although "Stan" is. It's a bit slanted to have two Eminem songs on the top 500, and only one Beastie Boys song ("Sabotage"). I hate "Bitter Sweet Symphony".

What would my top 500 be? I don't know. I'm not sure of the criteria. I could tell you MY favorite songs, but that would be boring. It's tough to have the same historic perspective that the people who create these lists have, but I don't even know how important that is. What do you think about the results of this list? It all seems kind of silly to me, honestly.