"So what do you think about the whole Brett Favre thing?"

People who have asked me this question in the last two weeks:

--My co-workers
--My ex-co-workers
--My pastor's wife
--My father-in-law
--My uncle-in-law
--My dog-in-law

The last time I was being asked the same question by so many people, I was a senior in high school and was telling everyone that "Wheaton is a Christian liberal arts school in the suburbs of Chicago ... no, it's not affiliated with a specific denomination ... yeah, my dad went there, and I really thought it was the best Christian education I could get."

So, since you're probably asking right now, "So what DO you think about the whole Brett Favre thing," here's my short answer:

Brett Favre needs to find a hobby. Or leave the country. Or, better yet, take up around-the-world hot-air ballooning. There's a hobby that would take him out of the country for a long, long time.

The point is, unretiring was a bad idea. Strike that--unretiring now was a bad idea. Had Favre unretired back this spring when the Packers hadn't planned its entire offseason strategy around someone else, that would've been fine. (Actually, he almost did that, and the Packers told him they'd take him back, but then he re-retired at the last minute.)

But no, he decided to un-retire less than a month before training camp, and he decided to do it in the most drama queeny fashion imaginable. Here's why the Packers aren't taking him back as starter, and I totally understand it.

Basically, the standards for Favre had been in a different universe from the rest of the team, and Favre was asking for more of the same. So the Pack's front office decided whether their ultimate loyalty was to Favre or to the rest of the team. And at some point, Packers fans have to make the same choice. It's easy to pick the face of the franchise for the past 16 years. But it makes a lot more sense to choose the franchise itself.

List of the Fortnight: A-1 Cleaning to Zymanski. Go.

When it comes to music, everybody's got one aspect that draws them in more than anything. Lyrics, bass, horns, whatever. For me, I think, it's probably the vocals. A band could have an album full of perfectly penned songs, but without a decent lead singer, I probably won't give it much of a listen. Likewise, I'll forgive a multitude of musical sins if the vocalist has a truly compelling voice.

There's only a handful that meet that threshold, where I'll listen with (mostly) rapt attention to pretty much anything they do, just because the voice sucks me in. I call 'em my "phone book" singers, after the old cliche about being able to enjoy listening to someone sing through the phone book.

So here's mine. Listen to the tape I so lovingly put together so you can find out for yourself how wrong-headed my tastes are.

Richard Manuel. I thought about including his fellow singers from the Band--Levon Helm and Rick Danko--because together, with all their overlapping and trading, they concocted an incredible triple threat of awesomeness. But Manuel took most of the burden, and his voice topped just about any other I've heard in its ability to convey pure, genuine wistfulness and anguish. It obviously came from deep inside, as his suicide painfully underscored. Have a listen to "The Unfaithful Servant," and see if by "Goodbye to that country home," you aren't feeling every ounce of his pain.

Rufus Wainwright. When I was introduced to the goodness that is Rufus Wainwright in college, I thought he had one of the most obnoxious voices I had ever heard. Nasally. Scooping. Preening. But slowly--and with the help of my roommate Mike--I warmed up to him, and I'm so glad I did. Rufus (we're on a first-name basis) fits best that idea of a phone book singer: Some of his songs are a bit dull in musical structure, but he makes them not only listenable, but a true pleasure. (Don't worry, I tried not to pick too dull a song here.)

Mavis Staples. My History of Rock Music professor once said that "the only person who might be able to out-Aretha Aretha is Mavis Staples." He was right. You know the Staple Singers from "I'll Take You There," and Mavis is in fine form there. But it doesn't take as good of a song for her to show off a bit.

John Fogerty. The voice of Creedence Clearwater Revival sang with all the soul a white boy could conjure up. And then he went and toned it down for junk like "Centerfield."

Dr. John. You may not know the name (no, he has nothing to do with sex shops), but you probably know the voice. So sleazy. So fun. So New Orleans.

Van Morrison. Another soulful, instantly recognizable voice. I love it especially when he scats. It always sounds to me like he has too much joy inside that needs to get out too quickly to find time for real words.

There's my list--what's yours?

(There's two mixtapes on this one: One here for Richard Manuel and Rufus Wainwright since I had to upload those songs, and the other below for the ones I could find online.)

Yes! Arbitrary competitions involving brackets!

So the Grand Island Independent has officially begun Music Madness, its rather quixotic search for Central Nebraska's favorite song. This first group is open for voting until Friday noon, and the first round runs through next week.

You should do your civic duty and vote.

No fervor-bots allowed

"I'm more likely to listen to someone's opinions about global warming or the epistles of Paul if I also know a little something about what kind of food they crave, which is their favorite baseball team, and how much trouble they had getting their first marriage to work."

From an interesting take on Christian music at the Onion's A.V. Club. The essay is part of a feature called Popless, a weekly feature in which one of the site's music critics is taking inventory of his entire music collection (which is larger than any human being's should be) and writing about its significance to him, his thoughts on it, etc.

He's taking it alphabetically, and each week has an opening essay--this week's is on Christian music. Some really interesting thoughts on CCM from someone firmly outside the bubble, and some surprisingly substantive discussion in the comment section.

So what Christian artists fit Murray's wish list of what he'd like Christian rock to be? Of the ones I know well, only a few come to mind:
Five Iron Frenzy (there's some discussion on them in the comments, if you do a Control-F)
Derek Webb (he gets name-checked in the comments, too)
Steve Taylor (responsible not only for his own music, but pretty much anything of substance the Newsboys ever sang)

You know what--I should break this brainstorming session into another post, complete with a mixtape for your listening pleasure. I'll get to work on that.

Someone tell me how to feel.

It's a glorious day to be a Brewers fan.

It's a horrible day to be a Packers fan.

I think I'll run down the street cheering. Or crying. Or both. That might scare the neighbors.

List of the Fortnight: Favorite Films

It's been a fortnight already, so it's time for another list. This one comes from a tag Ben gave me a month and a half ago. I must obey what he tells me to do, so here goes.

My 10 favorite movies (mostly in the order I thought of them)

Lord Of The Rings trilogy--Taken together, it's a pretty incredible 10 hours or so of film. At least for our generation, it's the gold standard of what an epic film should be.

Saving Private Ryan--This was the first "grown-up" movie I saw (at least once I got to the age where I could somewhat appreciate them), and I remember it blowing me away. I don't know that I've seen it all the way through in almost a decade, but it still holds that place for me.

The Blues Brothers--This movie is as much a part of our house as loud arguments over games at holidays. It's also my favorite musical.

This Is Spinal Tap--I guess this counts as my second-favorite musical. (Wow...Spinal Tap a musical? I think my brain just exploded.) I haven't seen many comedies in the past few years that are just as funny the 10th time you watch them, but this is one.

Disney's Robin Hood--Maybe not the best Disney movie ever made--OK, yes, the best Disney movie ever made--but for some reason it just resonated with us kids more than any other. I still remember when I was in second grade, when all four of us had chicken pox and we lined up our sleeping bags on the living room floor, watching, rewinding and re-watching it about four times a day for an entire week. And we never got sick of it. I bet Mom did, though.

Magnolia--Ever since Mike introduced me to this movie, it's been my favorite pondering-the-meaning-of-life film. I can't say I'd recommend it to just anyone--I almost walked out the first time I watched it because of the language--but it's one of the richest movies in thought and themes that I've ever seen.

All The President's Men--A love of this movie is a requirement for entrance into the Secret Society of Journalists, but it's actually a thrilling, entertaining movie, even if you have no idea who Woodward and Bernstein are. (In which case, shame on you!)

Austin Powers--Only the first one. No redeeming value whatsoever, but it's just so dang quotable, and it still makes me laugh.

School Of Rock--The movie Jack Black was born to star in. I'm not so sure I like him much anymore, but he gave that movie more life and joy than I've seen an almost any other.

Cool Runnings--John Candy and Jamaicans. How could you not love this movie? Oh wait ...

Don't worry, I won't tag anyone. Your suffering ends here.

Read and learn--it might come in handy someday.

And now it's time for another edition of Aesop's Unfortunately True Fables.

Here's the initial article by the New York Times.

Here's Fox News' response.

Moral of the story: Don't write anything (factual or not--doesn't matter) that puts Fox News in an unflattering light. Your face will be uglified and superimposed onto a dog.


Here's another initial article by the Washington Post.

Here's the Findlay Courier's response.

Moral of the story: Don't write that some people in Findlay, Ohio, think that Barack Obama is a closet Muslim. The local paper will blast you for doing a hit job on their town while saying in so many words that they aren't too sure themselves that he's not secretly paying homage to Allah.