If your early Nineties were anything like my early Nineties, then you probably spent a lot of it staying up late at night with the creaky, bass-heavy sound of the Cowboy Junkies droning in the background. I can personally link their cover of the Velvet Underground's "Sweet Jane" to at least four significant moments during that period, how about you? Sadly, but not surprisingly, the Cowboy Junkies haven't managed to produce anything quite as zeitgeisty since.

But for those of us who always hoped to one day find another lo-fi classic, here comes Bon Iver. Unexpectedly moving falsetto? Check. Spare instrumentation? Check. Recording made in a wooden shack somewhere near Canada? Check! (OK, "The Trinity Sessions" were actually recorded in a wooden church in Ontario, but still.)

"The Trinity Sessions" was released in 1998; "For Emma, Forever Ago" in 2008. America, meet your new Margo Timmins.... Mr. Justin "Bon Iver" Vernon.

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As a not-as-distant-as-you-might-think relative of William Faulkner, I like to do my part to ensure that the world at large recognizes the influence he's had. No, not just on graduate students and Cormac McCarthy, but on the wide, heavy world of metal. If you doubt me, look no further than The Flow Chart of Heavy Metal Band Names, compiled by Doogie Horner (another possible Faulkner reference right there).

It's a straight shot (S/SW) from the core metal principle of Death to Faulkner References, under whose auspices you will find: As I Lay Dying, The Sound and the Fury, and Corncob Rape. That last one might actually be a Cormac McCarthy trope, although perhaps I'm confusing it with Sodomization of Watermelon from McCarthy's brilliant novel Suttree. Alright then, I'm offering Sodomization of Watermelon as a freebie to all you aspiring metalheads out there.

I know what you're thinking: Where does The Big Lebowski fit into all this? Glad you asked. I recently learned that Faulkner's influence on the American geniuses Joel and Ethan Coen extends well beyond the obvious target, Barton Fink (in which the character of W.P. Mayhew, the genteel, drunken, Southern writer is clearly based on Faulkner).

According to John B. Padgett of the Ole Miss Department of English: "In Raising Arizona, the escaped convicts are the Snopes brothers (from Faulkner's "Snopes Trilogy" of novels), and in O Brother, Where Art Thou?, Penny’s fiancee, Vernon T. Waldrip, is the name of a character referred to in The Wild Palms [If I Forget Thee, Jerusalem]. And some viewers have even noted a Faulkner reference in the Coen Brothers’ bowling movie, The Big Lebowski: as in the short story “Barn Burning,” a key plot point centers on the issue of a soiled rug."

There you have it. William Cuthbert Faulkner (1897-1962), perhaps the only human being capable of spanning the aesthetic chasm between Ozzy Osbourne and Jackie Treehorn. That Faulkner. He really tied the room together.

This all started last year when my neighbor, L, woke up on the wrong side of bed on her birthday. Somehow I, a not very experienced baker, got the idea to bake her a cake.

She was shocked. I was shocked. But it was good! And so it begins: a birthday cake -baking tradition.

Yellow cake (sans uranium) with vanilla frosting and a cocoa-powder L. I'm giving it to her tonight.

Today is L's birthday and here is her cake.

Where: Museum of Nature and Science, "Prehistoric Journey" exhibit.

When: January 11, 2009

Who: Two three year-old boys, H & J.
H: Dinosaurs are dead.
J: Yes.
H: They became fossils.
J: And then the fossils went extinct.
H: Right.

Well, it's Prince, so he may have other plans altogether for this piano.

I'm pretty sure it's a piano... either that or a really fancy version of one of those machines in the nail joint that dries a mani-pedi in less than two minutes.

Thanks to Ann Powers for her blow-by-blow account of a day in the life of The Purple One. According to Powers, Prince loves Bill Maher and Ani DiFranco. He hates... come on, Prince does not hate.

Photo Credit: Afshin Shahid

What, you thought you were Trebuchet?

Face up to it: you may not be as cool as your favorite font. But you can find out for sure by taking the Which Font Are You? quiz.

Just 'cause you saw The Little Mermaid, it doesn't make you Arial.

Thanks to Matthew at Independent Lens, broadcasters of HELVETICA, a movie about - yep - a font.

I love Carmex.

What's not to love? Just like the sun, just like love itself, Carmex is bright, sticky, and just a little bit sweet. Also, it's cheap.

Carmex was invented in 1937 by Alfred Woelbing and the company, Carma Lab, is still a family-owned business. Alfred Woelbing died in 2001 at age 100. He never officially retired. Was the gooey wonderfulness of Carmex responsible for his longevity? No one knows for sure.

Personally, I think it's incredible that a product whose packaging goes out of its way to scream that it's FOR COLD SORES is wielded by men and women without shame. Good for you, America.

The Carma Lab geniuses at go out of their way to let you know that the stuff is not addictive. I never realized being addicted to Carmex was a problem. And you know what? It's not.

Illustration Credit: Paula Becker

The coat of arms for Sambir, Ukraine - formerly Sambor, Galicia (part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, 1772-1918).

Why the arrow through the stag's neck? Ah, you see, this is a well-established symbol of, er, I have no idea.

My maternal grandfather Efraim Hirsch "Herman" Baum was born in Sambor on Dec. 9, 1902. His parents were Markus Baum, a merchant, and Pesie Baum (daughter of Chaim Eliai and Teizi Marienstraus).

Herman was Jewish. I doubt he ever hunted a stag. Eventually his family and hundreds of thousands of other Jews were driven out of Galicia by the pogroms. Herman went to Palestine and moved on to Detroit, where he used his bricklaying skills to build bagel ovens.

This Sambor coat of arms has virtually nothing to do with my family, but hey, Grandpa Herman, this stag's for you. If only I could hang a little bagel over one of those antlers... maybe poppyseed?

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.

She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.

- Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (1955)

1. A sense of humor.
2. The word "Banjaxed" as the title of an article.
3. Self-deflating personal ads: "I’m looking for someone who likes hearty soups and jigsaws of kittens."
4. Alan Bennett's annual diary.
5. John Lanchester on video games.
6. A life.