By Bryan Berlin

I had mixed feelings sitting in the theater minutes before Pitch Perfect started. On one hand, it stars Anna Kendrick, an actress I’ve loved in every movie she’s been in since she started out in Rocket Science (although I haven’t seen her in the Twilight series – maybe I’ll just keep it that way). It also has supporting roles from Adam DeVine and Rebel Wilson, two of the newer, funnier people out there.

On the other hand, the entire movie revolved around a cappella. It’s not that I’m against a cappella. It’s that I’m against the portrayal of a cappella in the media ever since the middle of the first season of Glee. The pilot of Glee was honestly one of the best pilots I had ever seen. It was funny, smart, and portrayed high school in a fairly accurate way. Then about six episodes in they realized about 90% of their audience was watching the show for the musical numbers peppered throughout the show, and at that moment the show made it so story was just a vessel to get to the next song. Suddenly episodes had five or six songs when before they only had three. Story was thrown out the window (or good story at least). It was a bummer.

Sitting in that theater, I couldn’t help but worry that Pitch Perfect was just looking to capitalize on Glee and would be nothing more than songs. I was totally wrong. Not only was Pitch Perfect funny, but it also had a pretty decent story and great characters. When I thought about it more, I realized the structure of Pitch Perfect was something I had seen before, in the 2004 movie Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story.

Yes it seems crazy. A movie about guys playing dodgeball and a movie about college nerds singing a cappella are cut from the same mold? Yes. They definitely are. And here’s why:

The Underdog Story

The first scene of Pitch Perfect takes place at the national championships, where the all-female Barden Bellas completely humiliate themselves and lose to their on-campus, all-male rivals, The Treblemakers. Everyone leaves the Bellas, and the following year, the only two remaining team members are left to put together a rag-tag group of singers for a group that no one good wants to be a part of. Instead of competing for $50,000 to save a gym, they’re playing for pride and redemption. And they are definitely as bad as the guys in Dodgeball starting out.

The Asshole Villain

Yes, White Goodman is one of the best comedic ‘villains’ out there, but Adam DeVine does great playing that role in Pitch Perfect. He’s an asshole, he’s well liked in his world, but he’s a guy you have to assume would just get beat up in any other social situation outside of a capella. He has bad one liners, zings, and makes a fool out of himself on multiple occasions. Which was the same with Ben Stiller’s character in Dodgeball.

The Misfits

You couldn’t have a good underdog story without the misfit crew who look like they’ll never pull this together and then things start to click at the last minute until someone screws up and they have a falling out before coming back together for the championship moment. And these misfits are good. There’s the low talker. The girl who strip-dances as she sings. The lesbian black girl that everyone makes awkward jokes about. And Rebel Wilson, who’s a little too out there for the straight-laced style of the group. They are well quirked out, just like the Dodgeball team.

The Love Story

Both of these movies play the guy that really likes the girl but the girl is too cool to admit she likes the guy until the guy does something to piss them off which makes them realize they’ve like the guy all along game. To be honest, I was more impressed with how it worked in Pitch Perfect. Maybe it’s because I’m recently out of college, but the way the relationship between Anna Kendrick (Beca) and Skylar Astin (Jesse) plays out is epitome awkward college relationship. Late nights watching movies on the girl’s bed. Bonding over music tastes. Bailing each other out of jail. You know, normal college relationship things.

The Commentators

This is where I initially made the comparisons to Dodgeball while watching the movie. In Dodgeball, Jason Bateman and Gary Cole stole the show as Pepper and Cotton, adding some perfect one-liners throughout the matches. In the same way, Elizabeth Banks and John Michael Higgins killed it as the commentators. Banks played this weird but perfect ex-a cappella singer who made the right amount of sexually awkward jokes during competitions.

Sure, everything may not be exactly the same. Pitch Perfect doesn’t have a salty, ex-singer helping them along the way. Instead of playing on the same team, the love interests in Pitch Perfect end up being on rival teams (which I actually liked more). And while White Goodman and Vince Vaughn had a pretty intense rivalry, Adam DeVine’s hatred for the Bellas only goes so far before he drops out of the competition to be a back up singer for John Mayer (which couldn’t have been a more perfect way to get him out). Overall though, the movies took very similar roads.

And yes there is a lot of singing. But some of it is really impressive. The riff-off scene was great. The Anna Kendrick cup-singing scene was badass. If you totally hate music, this movie isn’t for you. But if you liked Dodgeball and can get down with some cool renditions of songs and a cappella playfully making fun of itself along the way, then this is the movie to see.

By Josh Tuper

I feel like everybody must have that awkward talk at some point with their elderly loved ones. When grandma starts driving off the road, or grandpa mistakes you for your younger sister even though you’re a man. Maybe they need a little assistance, for lack of a better word, for the rest of the time they have with us. It’s a sad and often times difficult conversation that could potentially stir up debate between the rest of the family. However, it is necessary and I believe we need to have this talk for a few men we hold near and dear to our hearts. Grandpa Green Day.

If you look past the wild hair, eye liner, and devil-may-care ‘tudes that don the men in the photograph above, you may see something more. Wrinkles. Confusion. Poor posture. An overall sense of exhaustion. Surely these can’t be the same youthful men that released some of the most recognizable anthems of 90′s subculture history. And while Green Day hasn’t really been “punk” SINCE the 90′s, they’re still holding on to it oh so tightly.

Until about last week I honestly had no idea Green Day was still even remotely relevant. If you were to ask me to assume what they were up to, I would probably say the same thing most people in their 40′s are doing. Family, relaxing, boat trips. I actually don’t know what people in their 40′s do. My parents are in their 40′s but they just complain about not having money, and I doubt the members of Green Day have that problem. I digress. But last week I saw a video that proved me very wrong. Their single “Oh Love” has an accompanying video of the fully punked-out Green Day guys rocking out as they’re surrounding by hot chicks with tattoos. Yikes.

Granted, I’m sure the members of the band don’t actually live a wild rockstar lifestyle anymore, and that the video is probably a “mockery” of said life. Or something. I don’t know. Regardless, I thought it was weird and I said to myself these guys are far too old for this! I felt like the old man who was telling the kids to turn down the music. But then a second thought popped into my cynical little brain- does it matter how old these guys are? Shouldn’t I think- good for them for making music for so long? Aren’t there bands who’s members are far older than these guys? (The Rolling Stones are like 90 and still rockin’.)

Perhaps the reason I have a problem with Green Day isn’t actually because they’re old and still making music. I think they could make music until they literally couldn’t pick up guitars anymore, and I would either a) be impressed or b) not really care. My beef is that they insist on dressing like 20 year old’s. I don’t even think 20 year old’s dress like this anymore. Any other self-respecting band who is making music past their prime usually dresses the part. Not to mention that they didn’t even dress like this when they were in their 20′s! Green Day started wearing makeup and dressing like punk rock caricatures of themselves with the release of American Idiot in 2004. WHEN THEY WERE IN THEIR THIRTIES!

There’s always an assumption of maturity when a band or artist starts to get old. Sure, some stay exactly the same, but it seems as if Green Day isn’t the same as when they first started making music at all. I grew up listening to punk rock, including early Green Day albums. But I, and millions of others, realize that the punk rock that was is dead. As is the Green Day of old. It’s almost offensive that these guys are milking the punk thing for so long, far past the point of selling out. I don’t believe that they are making music for music’s sake anymore, but to exploit a dying fashion for the newest generation of skateboarders and Hot Topic shoppers. (Note: I’m not even sure if Hot Topic’s still exist and I just felt really old.)

Punk rock was about rebellion and youth. It was about a sub culture of degenerates and outcasts who didn’t give a fuck about people in their 40′s. But now it’s about the mall. It’s about commercials. It’s about fashion. It’s about money. And hey, no one loves commercialism and money more than this guy! But come on, Green Day. It might be time to tone it down. Maybe even just in the eyeliner department. Baby steps.

By Bruce K Hamilton

On December 8, 2008, out of curiosity, I created an account on a website of increasing popularity. At the time, I didn’t know that I had become a part of a monstrous network so vile that would eventually seize everything I could call my own. But before I tell you that story, I have to tell you this story…

I think it was 2005 when, out of curiosity, I created an account on a website of increasing popularity. It was called Myspace. It seemed kind of cool at first. For the first time, my peers and I could communicate through a visual network that we could represent ourselves with. I chose to represent myself with a profile picture depicting Bart Simpson hanging out with 50 Cent.

Needless to say, when my parents found out about their fifth-grader’s internet profile, they freaked. It wasn’t even because I was putting up naked pictures of myself or cyberbullying other fifth graders; it was because of what they heard about Myspace via the only medium that was advertising it to mainstream America: the news. According to all the major news outlets, Myspace was a safe-haven for drug dealers, pedophiles, and any other archetypal bad guys. My dad tried installing a site blocker on our computer, but, if I remember correctly, I disabled it in thirty seconds on accident. This would begin the “Social Media Years”.

The years passed. I stopped using Myspace frequently, and I would only log on to chat with cousins who lived far away (all three of them) or to check up on my favorite bands (all three of them). Myspace had become a ghost town in a matter of years. It was like there was a food shortage in the plains, and somebody came and told all the farmers that there was an abundance of food out west (except the farmers were Myspace users, the plains were Myspace, the west was Facebook, and the food was just something cool). Everyone packed up shop and created Facebook accounts, and left their former Myspace profiles to rot and die. Sometimes I wonder how people one hundred years from now will treat those relics that haven’t been touched in figurative centuries…but I digress.

During eighth grade, I was given a laptop to use for the school year, for both home and school use. The administration, for reasons still unbeknownst to me, decided it was a good idea to give the entire eighth grade class, about seventy students, state-of-the-art Macbooks. This would encourage the eighth grade class to spend any minute of free time at school either 1: playing flash games online or 2: devising ways to circumvent the security measures placed on the laptops. At home, we abused social media. I quickly fell into the trap when, during the winter of eighth grade, some friends encouraged me to create a Facebook account, and I was hooked. The fact of the matter is that I would be on Facebook for most of the next three years.

It is now appropriate for me to ask, “But why?” Why would Facebook, social media, and the Internet at large dominate my life for a large portion of my adolescence? Other kids did this stuff too, but not nearly as much me, so why didn’t I have any self-control?

Hm.

My best guess leads to the symbolism of Facebook. On Facebook, there are people everywhere. That’s all it really is: a visual network that displays people and the things they say and the things they do and the places they see and the people they hang out with. Therefore, when I am on Facebook, I feel like I’m at a party, a party where everyone’s welcome and everyone’s having a good time and everyone’s cool. In reality, I am not a party. I am at the opposite of a party. I am alone. I am quiet. I might be in my underwear. I might also be listening to music they would never play at a party, like some ambient noise project from the early 90s or a concept album about being in love with Anne Frank. I wonder if Anne Frank had a Facebook account, would she have written such a meaningful piece of literature that ultimately was supposed to be read by only herself, or would she post small bits of it as status updates for the world to see, both jeopardizing her safety and her ability to create a beautiful work of art? Would the mainstream world know so much about the personal lives of the oppressed during the 1940s? If Facebook had been around for sixty-odd years, would it be a big deal anymore? Would the novelty have worn off by now? Would I still be crying, alone, naked, in a closet, thinking about Anne Frank and the 1940s and Bart Simpson and 50 Cent and Macbooks and misconceptions and parties and self-control and far-fetched symbolism?

Hmm.

Probably not.

But I digress.

In the same way that Facebook can make one feel like a member of Motley Crue in 1986 (cool, popular, etc.), it can also make one feel like a member of Motley Crue in 2012 (dead*). You may not be dead, but when you start to spend a lot of time viewing people who are alive and together, you realize you are alone, and you realize you are dead. Suddenly, your social life and self-esteem are long gone and probably hitchhiking to Canada, where they can enjoy universal healthcare, minimal gun violence, and hockey riots. With two necessary components to healthy lifestyle long gone, all you can do is rot in your own misery. You don’t feel like doing anything. You don’t ask people to hang out anymore. They don’t ask you to do anything anymore. Social media has bred antisocial behavior within you, but you haven’t figured that out yet.

The great awakening occurs when you put your head down on your pillow before you go to sleep and you think of all the things you did that day, and all you can picture is the screen. Your world has been confined to a screen. It sucks. You know what everyone’s been up to, but you haven’t talked to them in weeks. That’s the turning point. You arrive at home after school one day, get your computer, open a window on the second floor, and nonchalantly chuck it out the window. All your misery is gone, because the inside of your misery has been reconfigured by the forces of gravity and willpower alike. There is no retrieving it, and you have never felt better.

Unfortunately, none of that ever happened, except maybe some of it.

I can only hope that you, the reader, got something from this. Maybe you’ve been inspired to hitchhike north, or take out your dad’s old copy of the Crue’s Theatre of Pain on cassette, or read The Diary of Anne Frank, or deactivate an internet profile for the sake of regaining something you’ve lost.

*note – Nobody in Motley Crue is actually dead, but I’ll be damned if they don’t look the part.

By Josh Tuper

French monarch Louis XVI was kind of a shitty king. I’ll spare you all a history lesson, because I’m far from a historian, but basically he was indecisive, weak, wasn’t too into reforms, and eventually led to a revolution and his beheading. Then Napoleon came around and he was just the WORST. Anyway, centuries later a new king Lou has risen up from court jester to bring forth his own revolution (or more like a revoLOLtion, am I right?). He is the great Louis Szekely I, better known as Louis C.K.

It’s not news that C.K.’s series on FX Louie is amazing. It’s raved about by critics on a weekly basis, and those who don’t watch the show are truly missing out. In it’s third season, Louie has touched on subjects such as death, parenthood, war, love, suicide, sex, self image, regret, religion and farts. All topics that we, as human beings, have t0 face and attempt to deal with every day. And while most television shows try and face the issues of our embarrassing humanity, C.K. takes them head on, shoving them in your face without regard for the viewer’s comfort level. It’s awkward for us to watch, but only because we can relate too much. In an episode of this current season, Louie meets a young man in Miami who he becomes friends with. A nice story of companionship in a new place, until the awkwardness of reality sets in as he tries to tell his new buddy that he’s not gay. It’s a new take on the Seinfeld ”not that there’s anything wrong with that” bit. Louie, both in real life and his exaggerated television counterpart, wants to be an open-minded forward-thinking man. But he’s only human, and life is uncomfortable.

At it’s core, Louie is in fact a situational comedy. But calling it a sitcom seems hard, and even harder if you’re the type who needs to categorize it in some sort of sub-genre. While most sitcoms and comedies are essentially simple stories with as many jokes and gags shoved in as possible, Louie relies on story first and foremost. The laughs come when they can, because the situations and real-life struggles Louis C.K. faces are funny enough on their own. Sometimes the show isn’t even that funny, yet it’s still the best comedy currently on television. The series’ style itself is even hard to classify in terms of traditional television. Episodes are typically unconnected and each segment is a separate vignette. It barely uses story arcs, except for the occasional woman in his life (such as Pamela Adlon in season two and Parker Posey this season). When I watch an episode I feel like I’m watching a collection of short films, rather than a TV program. But that’s the point, and that’s what makes it so true to life. Reality isn’t always an easy three act story-line and there isn’t always a clean conclusion. Life is messy and random. I propose that we take away the title “reality television” from what it currently represents, and give it to Louie.

Louis C.K.’s revolution is mostly being televised, but there is more to his genius beyond creating the series. Louie has taken out the middleman of comedy distribution, releasing his last two stand-up specials Live at the Beacon Theater, and WORD: Live at Carnegie Hall exclusively digital and only available on his own website for a small price of five dollars. This led to other comedians, namely Aziz Ansari and Jim Gaffigan, to take on similar endeavors. This provides for an almost intimate relationship between comedian and fan, and could most likely completely change the way comedy specials are distributed. Furthermore, I wouldn’t be surprised if this method encouraged new comedians to release their specials without the help of labels, distributors, or Comedy Central’s near monopoly on stand-up comedy.

Louis C.K. is a genius, innovator, and the truest modern day auteur. Everything he does is his own. He’s had complete control of Louie since day one. He does what he wants with his comedy specials, including the profits (the majority of profit from Live at the Beacon Theater was donated to charities). Plus he’s in such high demand that he his upcoming fall tour includes over ten New York City performances! All of which he’s selling directly from his website as well. Yes, Louie is the king of comedy. But that’s not why we love him. Despite all his success and recent fame, he remains a normal guy with stress, anxiety, and fear about life, family, love, farts, and masturbation. Maybe if those French monarchs made more dick jokes, things would have ended better.

By Bryan Berlin

SPOILER ALERT: This article features spoilers from Breaking Bad. If you haven’t seen up to Season 5, Episode 8, you should stop reading. If you haven’t seen Breaking Bad yet, start.

After the explosive Season 4 finale of Breaking Bad, I got into a discussion with my friend about where the show would go. That finale seemed like the perfect ending to the longest chapter of the show, and it was hard to know what exactly would happen next. We decided the only was to bring the show full circle was to work out the final showdown of the show: Walt vs. Hank.

While Breaking Bad started as a show that clearly revolved around Walter White, chemistry-teacher-turned-meth-cook-battling-cancer, many articles have made the point that Breaking Bad is a show that constantly makes you wonder who is the main character? Sure, the 2^nd choice for the main protagonist would be Jesse Pinkman, but Jesse’s real role is moral center of the show: he’s the character that best reflects the feelings of the audience watching the show. He freaks when Walt gets too insane. He walks away after an innocent boy is killed (somewhat) because of him (the same way my dad walked away from the show after that episode because ‘that was a terrible thing to do to someone’). Then there was the argument for Mike as the hero: the ex-cop with a Dexter-like code that he would live by. That was short lived.

Finally, there is Hank: a man who has been present since the first episode but is always out of the spotlight. His life and Walt’s life overlap more than Hank could ever know, and at times you see those moments play out from each perspective. In a way, Breaking Bad is telling the story of the good guys vs. the bad guys, very similar to the way The Wire did so. While Walt is being bad, Hank is out on the case, looking to lock up the bad guys, and is committed to making sure that happens.

That point is what makes the inevitable showdown between the two of them so exciting. Is Hank’s obsession with the meth case something stronger than the bond with his family? Hank has always been there for his family, but has never been one to stray from police protocol. The finale Sunday night should set up both a great cat and mouse game and an incredible internal struggle for Hank. Think of how this could play out: Hank confirms Walt is the kingpin, he struggles with what to do with the information, but ultimately he realizes the two of them have no relation by blood and that Walt should be locked up. Next he figures out Skyler is also involved so he must decide if he’d want the responsibility of leaving their kids parentless. But hey, he and Marie have already been taking care of them. No big deal. Then he realizes that Marie would almost definitely leave him if he locked up her sister. Marie would go back to robbing stores and get arrested. Hank would become an alcoholic. Flynn would have the raise the baby by himself with the secret money Walt left for him. But is all that worth it just to be loyal to the law?

Perhaps the greatest part of the ensuing showdown is that there is almost no way Walt would have ended up where he is now if it wasn’t for Hank taking him out for a drug bust during the pilot. Walt would have never gotten the knowledge of dealing meth from Hank and he never would have reconnected with Jesse. The monster that Hank is left staring down is a monster that he gave life to.  At the same time, Walt’s empire has indirectly helped the DEA get a done of huge dealers and drug lords off the street – instead there is just one major player left standing.

This final showdown, perfectly constructed by Vince Gilligan, could cause a huge divide between viewers. Will they stay loyal to Walt, the one who they’ve followed since day one and still root for even though he’s gone totally evil, or will people follow Hank as he attempts to find a way to catch the biggest drug lord the Southwest has even seen, who just happens to behis brother-in-law? Fine, the supporters of each side may not be as committed to their team as Team Jacob and Edward, but people will choose a side. The exciting part is the person a viewer chooses to side with could say more about the viewer than the characters. Nice one, Vince Gilligan. Nice one.

By Jackson Connor

What can I say about Jeremy Lin that hasn’t already been said by every ESPN analyst every day for the last two weeks? I could give you his stats, tell you that he majored in economics at Harvard, that he’s the first Taiwanese-American player in the NBA, that he went un-drafted, or even compile a comprehensive list of every Lin-based nickname to show up on Spike Lee’s Twitter account (Linderella, Super Lintendo, The Linstigator, are some of my favorites). All of this might prove to be pertinent information, but I don’t think I was asked to write this piece because of how much I know about the Linsanity that’s been going on, but rather because of how much I’ve had to suffer over the last decade of my life as a fan of the New York Knicks.

I first saw Jeremy Lin while watching a game on television with my dad over the holidays. My dad is sort of sentimental and likes to study the players on the bench and feel bad for them when they never get a chance to play. We both started to notice a guy riding some pine who we hadn’t seen before. He was the first man up at a time out, he was always cheering after a big shot or dunk… he was Asian. (I hate to say that’s the real reason why he stood out to us, but if you’re not 7’6” and named Yao Ming, people tend to take notice of an Asian guy around a basketball court.)

“It must be terrible to just sit on the bench night in and night out and never see a minute of playing time,” my dad always says in situations like these. To which I usually reply, “Well, I guess you sit there hoping for that dare-to-be-great situation, where someone gets hurt or sick and you can prove yourself.” Needless to say, as always, I was 100 percent correct.

Yes, Anthony had suffered a groin injury and Amar’e was taking time with his family to deal with the death of his older brother, but the point guard position had been a problem for the Knicks since their abysmal start to the season in December. With the Chris Paul pipedream officially off the table, and Baron Davis’ return date uncertain, no one expected Toney Douglas or the aging Mike Bibby to be the caliber playmaker needed to lead an incredibly offensive-minded team to a championship. The Knicks were stagnant, uninspired, and unable to score despite two super star players on the roster.  In retrospect why didn’t Coach Mike D’Antoni put Jeremy Lin in sooner just for the hell of it? Things couldn’t have gotten any worse.

The Knicks front office has made terrible personnel moves over the years – so many that I don’t care to recount them here. Through the Isiah Thomas era and into the years spent clearing cap space for the 2010 free agency chase, a good guard was a rare sight in Madison Square Garden. In the past year and a half some of the franchise’s best acquisitions have been complete surprises (i.e. taking Landry Fields 39^th overall in 2010, Iman Shumpert 17^th overall this year, and, of course, claiming Jeremy Lin off waivers on December 27^th).  The only way the Knicks were going to get a good group of young guards was to have them sneak in under our noses.

On Feb. 4 Lin started at home against the New Jersey Nets, recording 25 points and 7 assists. Two nights later against the Utah Jazz it was 28 and 8. Two nights after that he earned his first double-double with 23 and 10 on the Washington Wizards. Each game was more exciting than the last, and each game meant a much-needed win for the Knickerbockers. Finally on Feb 10 he dazzled with 38 points and 7 assists in a nationally televised victory over the Los Angeles Lakers and Linsanity was an undeniable pop-culture phenomenon.

Even though the Knicks were beating the Lakers all game, I was almost certain we would find a way to lose. This is what being a Knicks fan does to you. It makes you pessimistic, it makes you believe that nothing good can ever happen, that every lead will be blown in the most dramatic and heartbreaking fashion. But we pulled out the win with two huge threes by Lin and I was able to let out a slightly bewildered sigh of relief, thinking, This kid might actually be the real deal.

In one of Lin’s most awe-inspiring performances he led the Knicks to a come-from-behind win over the Toronto Raptors on Valentines Day, finishing with his 6^th straight 20-point game and nailing a beautiful three-point buzzer beater to seal it. The difference was that even though the Knicks were down the entire game (at times by double digits), I had this strange confidence that they would win, and that it would be Lin who’d lead them there. And that’s what Lin has done above all else so far – restored some faith, or at the very least some hope, in the New York Knicks.

With Stoudemire back Lin is playing more like a true point guard, getting his teammates involved first and looking for his own shot second. In his last game against the Sacramento Kings he had a career high 13 assists, heaving huge alley-oops to Tyson Chandler and Fields off the dribble. He would penetrate and then dish to Stoudemire under the basket or find someone in the corner for a wide open three. The Knicks finally looked like a team, not just a bunch of guys in similar uniforms going one-on-one with their men. We saw the old Amar’e Stoudemire, the big man who was so exciting to watch feed off of a point guard like Steve Nash or even Raymond Felton.

Carmelo Anthony is perhaps the best scorer in the NBA, but he will be the one who has to prove himself capable of adapting, simply because the old way of doing things didn’t work. It’s premature to say that he can’t co-exist alongside Lin, or that he’s not a team player, but his first few games back will be a test, and the fans are certain to be hypercritical. It’s just too damn early to ask the Knicks to trade a player who they gave up nearly their entire team to sign just barely a year ago.

Jeremy Lin has captivated the country not just because of how things might play out with Melo, or because of his stats, or his clutch shots, or even because the Knicks are winning – it’s that all of these facts and details are wound up in this incredibly human narrative about an underdog not only succeeding, but succeeding with humility. We love that Jeremy Lin went to an Ivy League school and that no NBA team wanted to draft him, that the Golden State Warriors – his home town team – dropped him, that the Houston Rockets dropped him, that the New York Knicks were about to drop him. We love that he was sleeping on his brother’s sofa in Manhattan, that people probably overlooked him because he was Asian, and that he doesn’t give a shit about any of this unless it helps his team win. We love Jeremy Lin because he was a guy who sat on the bench, and probably would have slept on the bench, if it meant he’d someday get a shot. It’s Linspirational. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

By Bryan Berlin

I have never been to a music or movie festival. The closest I’ve been is when I went to WFNX’s Clambake: an 8-artist, one-day event on Lansdowne Street in the same city I live in. It was far from a festival. There weren’t even any clams.

In my mind, Sundance is a magical place. For those who’ve never heard of it, it’s a 10-day independent movie festival located in Park City, Utah. Thinking about this, I instantly paint the picture of walking to an art house theater as snow is slowly falling. I actually had the chance to go there this year but it alluded me at the last moment.

An amazing thing happened to me in 2005; a friend introduced me to Garden State and a whole knew world of movies opened up to me: indie movies. Yes, I may have become that kind of person a little bit, but I suddenly learned there was this extraordinary base of great storytelling that went unseen to the general public.

In 2006 I got hooked on Little Miss Sunshine. I saw it three times in theaters. I was hooked. In 2007 it was Juno. In 2008 it was Charlie Bartlett. 2009 brought (500) Days of Summer. 2010 was Blue Valentine. 2011 was Like Crazy. Each time, I would see a trailer for these movies and get obsessed months before their release date. I would watch the trailers just to smile at how amazing these movies looked. Alright – I’m a weird kid.

Regardless, I get excited every year when I start reading synopses and hearing hype from the Sundance movies. I immediately scour the internet to see if I can find any movie trailers so I can get even more excited for their releases. With all that being said, I now present to you my 2012 Sundance Draft Class:

Smashed

Starring: Aaron Paul (Breaking Bad), Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Scott Pilgrim), Nick Offerman (Parks and Recreation), Megan Mullally (Everything)

This movie’s about an alcoholic couple that hits a rough patch when Winstead decides to get sober. The plotline seems so real (a la Blue Valentine) and Offerman and Mullally, the real life dream couple, seem like they’ll offer comic relief as Winstead’s co-workers. The core of this story reminds me a lot of the struggle Jesse Pinkman goes through in Breaking Bad and the relationship he has Jane.

Here’s a few clips: http://youtu.be/rTvv95ucFDM

Here’s a chat with Director James Ponsoldt: http://youtu.be/yTyZrxVwh9A

Safety Not Guaranteed

Starring: Mark Duplass (The League), Aubrey Plaza (Parks and Rec), Jake Johnson (New Girl)

I like this cast because I feel like if I saw these three hanging out at a bar it wouldn’t be surprising at all. In that situation I’m sure I would walk over to them and quickly make a fool of myself also. The movie has Duplass placing a classified ad looking for people to travel through time with him. Jonhson and Plaza decide to join him, and I’m sure some hilarity ensues.

Here’s a talk with Director Colin Trevorrow: http://youtu.be/amJQ19b1FkI

Bachelorette

Starring: Kirsten Dunst, Isla Fisher (Wedding Crashers), Lizzy Caplan (Party Down)

While Bachelorette may seem like a Bridesmaids rip-off at first glance (which is going to happen since Bridesmaids was such a hit), Kirsten Dunst assures viewers it’s a little different: “It’s a little bit of a Swingers vibe but with women.” Fine, it may still be close, but these types of movies have been around for a while and will still be made (Adam Scott is also one of groomsmen – can’t go wrong there).

Here’s a little teaser clip: http://youtu.be/k3nhdySfQmw

Black Rock

Starring: Kate Bosworth, Lake Bell (Children’s Hospital), Kate Aselton (The League)

A fun fact about Mark Duplass is that he’s a powerhouse in the indie circuit. Almost everyone who knows him knows him from The League, but he and his brother have written and directed multiple indie movies (most notably Cyrus) including this one. The story follows the three girls on a remote island in Maine who are on vacation when things go terribly wrong. Not only is the cast decent (fun fact: Aselton is married to Duplass), but I’m hoping the title is a LOST reference.

Here’s a chat with the leading ladies: http://youtu.be/qXKNt1KNrUg

Liberal Arts

Starring: Josh Radnor (How I Met Your Mother), Elizabeth Olsen (Martha Marcy May Marlene), Allison Jannery (Juno)

This is the second film written, directed, and starring Josh Radnor. His first, Happythankyoumoreplease, was a Sundance hit back in 2010 and definitely worth watching. The story follows Radnor falling for Olsen, but I’m almost certain she doesn’t turn out to be the mother. Oh wait, nevermind.

Here’s a clip: http://youtu.be/NrXhX4oSE5U

Chat with Josh Radnor: http://youtu.be/eS8Ornmd9go

By Josh Tuper

The Super Bowl is not simply a sporting event viewed by millions of people worldwide, but a pop culture spectacle. The Big Game is a three ring circus full of excitement and entertainment; the advertisements, the halftime show, and oh yeah the actual game. Americans, and I can only assume a handful of other countries, are drawn to the Super Bowl for several reasons besides the fact it’s a football game to decide who the “best” team is that season. For example, I despise both the Giants and the Patriots equally and will forever be a bitter Eagles fan (bring on the “boo’s” if you’d like). During the normal season, unless I was at a friend’s house or a bar or I was bored out of my mind, I most likely wouldn’t watch a Pats/Giants game. I would check out the score later and groan at either outcome. But, goddamn did I watch every minute of the Super Bowl.

Whether it’s the snacks and ten foot party subs, or just love of the game, we will watch it and enjoy because we are products of mass media and we love a good circus. “Ladies and gentlemen, direct your attention to the main ring! Introducing the 85 year lip-syncing woman and the trapeze artist backup dancers!” Nothing reflects our culture quite like the halftime show. I strongly believe this is why the Super Bowl is such a big deal. The World Series and the NBA Finals don’t have it. The championship game for the NFL is going to give you a 12 minute show and you’re going to LOVE it! Or most likely, hate it.

History lesson time, kids! Did you know that for years the halftime show featured a college marching band? And not one led by Cee Lo Green, either, just a marching band. It wasn’t until 1991 (Super Bowl XXVI) that the producers of the half time show decided to modernize it and put New Kids On The Block on center stage to perform a medley of their hits with Disney characters dancing around them. This sparked a new trend to essentially say, “fuck you college marching band nerds, it’s time to get paid.” I paraphrase of course.

Then a few years later, the pop culture gods struck a deal with the NFL and the game was never the same again. It was Super Bowl XXVII in 1993, the Buffalo Bills against the Dallas Cowboys. But more importantly, it was the year Michael Jackson added a piece of sports glory to his list of achievements. Jackson’s half time show increased ratings tremendously and the game became one of the most watched events in TV history. To no surprise, half time show producers strived to get popular artists to perform making the Super Bowl the pop culture phenomenon it is today.

Half time shows afterwards became a rollercoaster ride of where we were at as a nation while trying to attract all demographics. Who would have thought Boyz 2 Men would share a stage with The Temptations (Super Bowl XXXII). Or even more bizarre, Christina Aguilera side by side with Phil Collins (Super Bowl XXXIV). The geniuses they are, the producers were able to showcase what the kids were into with the artists their parents love (i.e. Aerosmith, Britney Spears, and N’Sync). But while a vehicle for entertainment, the half time show was also able to stir emotion and remembrance. Super Bowl XXXVII gave us a beautiful tribute to 9/11 with the soundtrack of U2. Nothing flashy and crazy, but nice and thoughtful, and that’s exactly where we were at. And exactly what we needed.

But if the show truly reflects us a as a society, then it says we are not ready for boob on TV! Yes, in 2004 those crazy kids at MTV took over the half time show for what was to be NOT YOUR PARENTS HALFTIME SHOW! In fact, the only artist on the bill; which included Kid Rock, Nelly, P Diddy, and Justin Timberlake, was the one who caused the commotion. ‘Twas Janet Jackson and the breast seen ‘round the world! The youth was not allowed around the half time show again for some time and instead the show was toned down enormously.

Paul McCartney, The Rolling Stones, Prince, Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen, The Who, YAWN! The MTV generation blew it and we faced the consequences of boring half time shows for several years. Until last year, of course, when the kids were given another chance and The Black Eyed Peas and Usher took the stage. With, Slash? Well I guess they figured he wouldn’t be a risk for wardrobe malfunction. But alas, The Black Eyed Peas almost made me wish there was one so we could go back to the old dudes who played instruments and had talents. No offense to the Peas, but much offense at the same time.

So what does this year’s show say about our culture? That it’s okay if an artist lip-syncs all of her songs as long as she’s a legend and surrounded by Cirque du Solei performers? Or perhaps that the Super Bowl actually isn’t ready to let the cool kids take over because people like M.I.A. will flip-off the camera. Maybe, just maybe, it says that LMFAO is here to stay whether we like it or not. Whatever it may be, I anticipate where it’s headed for next year. My prediction is the halftime could one of two ways; either they tone it down with something like a Simon and Garfunkle reunion, or the whole show will turn into a rave with various house music and dubsetp DJ’s. Or maybe both? Excuse me while my brain explodes at the thought.

By Bryan Berlin

I remember Super Bowl XLVII very distinctly. It was my freshman year of college at Northeastern and I was stuck watching the game alone in my dorm room. Well maybe I wasn’t stuck there. I was just anti-social and didn’t want to be surrounded by a sea of Pats fans in the common room.

The Giants had no reason to be at the Super Bowl. They had stumbled into the playoffs and happened to put a string of wins together at the right time to get there, but they were facing the 18-0 Patriots. The team that beat their opponents in the regular season by 19.6 points a game. It was stupid to even think the Giants had a chance in the game.

And then, after one of the wildest catches I have ever seen, the Giants somehow won. I found myself jumping up and down in my dorm room silently celebrating as I heard the pissed off Patriots fans all around me. The Giants had given the Patriots one of the biggest fuck-yous in sports history and all seemed well. The Patriots fans took it better than I expected. I guess it’s not hard when your team is good enough to have a guaranteed spot in the playoffs every year, but now all of that’s changed.

Four years later, we find ourselves in an eerily similar spot. The Patriots came in as the #1 seed in the AFC; the Giants barely slipped in on the NFC side. The Giants surprised everyone on their way to the Super Bowl, winning the NFC Championship with a game winning field goal in overtime. The Patriots safely made their way to the Super Bowl as expected. It’s like the universe is lining up perfectly for history to repeat itself.

And that’s what I hate as a Giants fan. The Giants already had their dream season. Their dream 4^th quarter winning drive.  The Giants should have just continued their trend of building up expectations early in the season only to disappoint fans when it came to playoffs. That Super Bowl victory should have bought the Giants at least 10 years of forgiveness from fans.

Instead, the Giants couldn’t have put themselves in a better situation for the bloodthirsty Patriots. While it won’t bring them back a perfect season, there is a chance for so much redemption. And the fact that they’ve lost some games this season takes so much pressure off the Patriots players. Instead they can just win to get back at the Giants. Sure, the Giants winning would give them another Super Bowl championship, and probably put Eli Manning into the elite Quarterback category, but there’s just less on the line.

At the end of the day, the Giants are a team that strives on low expectations. On November 6th, after the Giants beat the Patriots 24-20 to get to 6-2 on the season, I tweeted, “The Giants are now at the perfect point to completely disappoint all of their fans.” They ended up losing 5 of their next 6 games. The second anyone gives the Giants any shot or any credit, they will always disappoint you. After those 6 games they sat at 7-6, and most people were counting them out of the playoffs at that point. I know I was. At that very moment, they started a 5 game winning streak which took them into the playoffs and all the way to the Super Bowl. In the 2007 season, it didn’t matter that the Giants had made a similar run to get to the playoffs. They were taking on an undefeated team and no one was giving them a chance. Now, people are giving them a chance, and that’s the last thing the Giants need.

What Super Bowl XLVII will almost surely do is create a new rivalry in the NFL. Up until this point, each of these teams had rivalries with the other New York team, the Jets. Now matchups between these teams could produce fan hatred that may rival the Yankees and Red Sox. Or maybe they’ll just get together and talk about how much the Jets suck. These things are hard to predict.

Speaking of predictions, predicting the winner is hard. Instead I’m going to make these other bold statements:

- Gronkowski is going to play. I hate the media coverage speculating about this all week. If you have the opportunity to play in a Super Bowl you’ll do whatever you have to do to play. If you don’t you’ll hate yourself 20 years down the line for choosing your body over the glory. Instead, you can hate yourself in 20 years for needing a wheelchair because you shouldn’t have played football on your sprained foot.

- Peyton Manning will get more screen and talk time than either teams kicker. This is almost a no brainer. They’re playing in Indianapolis and his younger brother is one of the Quarterbacks on the field. Sorry Lawrence Tynes and Stephen Gostkowski.

- Jets fans will root for the Giants. This was a tough one but I think you take the fact that the Patriots are division rivals and you’d rather have a New York than New England victory. The only curve ball with this is the Giants essentially knocked the Jets out of the playoffs (Katie Baker has polled the public on this topic).

- Jokes you will hear during the halftime show: “I’m hoping for a wardrobe malfunction.” “I wish Britney Spears was here.” “

- Serious phrases you will hear during the halftime show: “Why isn’t she wearing more clothes?”

- Phrases Giants fans will say: “That catch was exactly like the David Tyree catch” (Actual catch nothing like that catch)

- Phrases you will not hear from anyone: “I can’t wait for Smash to premiere after this.”

By Colin Peters

Newt Gingrich – he may be the underdog, but he damn sure isn’t Rocky Balboa. For that reason, Frankie Sullivan, guitarist of Survivor — a band that broke onto the scene and disappeared simultaneously with Rocky III — is suing Newt Gingrich for using their song, “Eye of the Tiger.” He claims there’s no political motive, only an artist’s attempt to protect copyright…or get people interested in a non-Probst related Survivor. Here’s a list of some other noteworthy politicians who found themselves in similar situations.

“America’s future rests in a thousand dreams inside your hearts. It rests in the message of hope in songs a man so many young Americans admire, New Jersey’s own Bruce Springsteen.” – President Ronald Reagan (@ 1:04). Springsteen’s case may be the best known instance of musicians and politicians butting heads. While Reagan was campaigning for president, politicians and pundits were citing “Born in the U.S.A.” as an anthemic tribute to the red, white and blue. They saw the album cover, heard a man screaming “U.S.A.” and made some dangerous assumptions. By now, everyone knows (or should know) the song is an account of the Boss’ friends returning from the Vietnam War and being treated poorly.

Michele Bachmann – I understand why she wanted to use Tom Petty’s “American Girl” for her campaign; it makes sense to a degree. Still, don’t we know that those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it? George W. Bush tried to use Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down” during his 2000 campaign. Petty threatened to sue and Bush dropped the song. Bachmann, I don’t blame you for trying but you could’ve saved yourself some trouble by using a Dixie Chicks song…kidding.

Speaking of President Bush, did you know he tried to rock the Foo Fighters’ “Times Like These” for his 2004 campaign? You have to give credit to the Foo Fighters on this one, though. Rather than take legal action, they instead decided to dedicate their efforts to the more productive action of campaigning – albeit for Bush’s opponent John Kerry – in order to positively associate themselves with politics rather than engage in a legal battle over their music.

Unfortunately for the Foo Fighters, 2004 wouldn’t be the last time their music was thrown into the political arena. In 2008, “My Hero” was used by John McCain’s campaign. Like “Born in the U.S.A.,” it’s another example of misunderstanding a song’s meaning. McCain may be or consider himself to be a hero – his military service is certainly admirable – but the song is about Grohl’s personal heroes. In a statement published by the band, he wrote: “The saddest thing about this is that My Hero was written as a celebration of the common man and his extraordinary potential. To have it appropriated without our knowledge and used in a manner that perverts the original sentiment of the lyric just tarnishes the song.”

Honorable Mentions:

Al Gore — He’s a repeat offender. 1992 fundraisers for his vice-presidential run featured Paul Simon’s “You Can Call Me Al.” Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great song. But, besides name/title, what do Al Gore and “You Can Call Me Al” have in common?…besides both maybe wondering why they’re soft in the middle now.

Perhaps the funniest song on this list is Fatboy Slim’s 1999 hit “Praise You.” The song was used in his 2000 presidential run against George W. Bush. Slim’s response was easily the best part of this situation: “Thank God it wasn’t the Republicans.” I can’t write anymore on this because I’m fearful of Gore’s power on the internetz. (See :49)

Last but certainly not least: Mitt Romney. This isn’t a case of politician using an unwilling artist’s tune. This is an unrelated case I had to include because it makes no sense. LMFAO wrote a song inspired by an encounterwith the Republican favorite. A band with members named RedFoo and SkyBlu somehow had an encounter with Mitt Romney that inspired a song. You can’t make that shit up. “We Came to Party”

UPDATE: Mitt Romney used K’naan’s hit “Wavin’ Flag” in Florida. The rapper claims he did not give permission to Romney and is potentially seeking legal action.