It's an uncomfortable fact that, deep down, a good percentage of hip-hop scholars really want to be emcees. Born voyages into some cringe-worthy moments when writers try to seamlessly code-switch between contemporary black vernacular and academic-speak, a feat only Dyson has perfected. Most other writers end up looking as contrived as that kid who brought a written rhyme into a cipher and passed it off as freestyle. By "trees," one writer helpfully explains with an ellipsis, she means marijuana. Uh, thanks for the clarification.

The premature declaration of hip-hop's demise in Born's introduction casts a shadow over the entire book. The only problem with this view, which often happens to coincide exactly with the point at which a given rap critic creeps toward middle age, is that it's perennial. (Even Nas himself has pronounced hip-hop dead.) As rapper Common reminds us in the book's foreword, his own nostalgic eulogy for hip-hop's artistic integrity, "I Used to Love H.E.R.," was released the same year Illmatic ushered in hip-hop's East Coast Renaissance. And the hits of 1994 kept on coming. The Notorious B.I.G.'s hectic and haunting album Ready to Die changed rap forever and Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik foreshadowed Outkast's critical and commercial success. The following year, Tupac Shakur struck platinum from prison with Me Against The World. And two years after Illmatic, a little-known emcee named Jay-Z dropped his first album, Reasonable Doubt.

As most of you know I've pretty much aged out of the music. I think that's fine. But those of over 30 need to be careful not to confuse the music dying for us, with the music dying for the world.

That said, lyrically, it really doesn't get much better than Illmatic. When I was a kid, I thought only better (lyrically) things would follow. I think that was a function of me not really understanding why most people were listening to hip-hop. Sure some of us obsessed over the words, but Dre basically had it right--"Ya'll don't wanna hear me, you just wannna dance." That's basically been the case from jump. Great lyrics were a beautiful and important side-effect, but a side-effect nonetheless.

Many years ago I coined the phrase "Choker Manning" because up to 2006 he had never won a championship on any level. In the biggest games of his career, up to that point, he had played his worst games.

The Quarterback position is about not just producing in the regular season, but performing in the playoffs. Manning finally won his ring, but as we chronicled in the "5 Reasons Super Bowl Prediction" he didn't have that defining moment.

He had that moment staring at him and he blinked. Legendary quarterbacks simply can not blink and throughout his career Manning has blinked a lot.

He is now 9-9 in the playoffs and 1-1 in Super Bowls. Brett Favre, the man who Peyton Manning will one day pass in the record books, is 12-10 in the playoffs and 1-1 in Super Bowls. Peyton Manning is a first ballot Hall of Famer just like Favre, but right now he isn't on the Mount Rushmore of Greatest Quarterbacks of all time.

Peyton Manning is one of the best of all time, but will never be considered "THE BEST" until he has that defining moment and wins multiple Super Bowls. He has every skill you would in a quarterback except that skill you can't define. Montana had it. Brady had it. Bradshaw had it.

I deeply suspect that people are moving the goal posts. I think this is about expectations, and folks who are arguing for "multiple Super Bowls" would have been arguing for "the big one" five years ago.

That aside, I don't really get how you can argue that Terry Bradshaw is ahead of Brett Favre or Peyton Manning on the Mount Rushmore of Quarterbacks. If anything it points to the limits of using Super Bowls. I think Dan Marino is ahead of Terry Bradshaw, and yeah, Troy Aikman and Roger Stauchbach. I love them both, but neither belong in a conversation with Peyton Manning, Joe Montana and Dan Marino. By the "multiple Super Bowls" argument, Peyton Manning is the equivalent of Mark Rypien, Trent Dilfer and Joe Theismann.

I also think that this kind of argument actually subtracts from the opposing team. Pre-Saints, Manning faced two really good teams. I had no idea what the Jets could have really done to stop him. But the Saints figured it out--keep his ass off the field. And they did everything they could--from onside kicks to going for it on fourth down--to that end. As a fan of aggressive football, it was great to watch. But it's hard to argue that you've conquered anything, if you aren't facing much of an obstacle. If Manning is a serial choker, then what did the Saints accomplish? More likely, on Sunday Peyton Manning and the Colts were beaten. It happens. Especially when you're facing a great team.

"I introduced myself as a fella who was defeated in 1994, the last time we didn't pass meaningful health-care reform," Inslee recalls saying. "I said it was a painful event, and I didn't want them to go through that pain." In politics, he told his colleagues, assuming the "fetal position" can be the most dangerous thing to do.

And then he recounted all the grief he and his family went through while work on their kitchen renovation dragged on and on and on. "During that time, I had blood lust against my contractor," Inslee said. "Six months went by, and he was still arguing with the plumber. Eight months went by, and there were still wires hanging down everywhere, and he was having trouble with the building inspector."

Inslee looked at his colleagues and declared: "We've got to finish the kitchen." His point was that Americans won't experience any of the benefits of health-care reform until Congress puts a new system in place.

Marc Ambinder, The Atlantic's very good politics blogger, was asked by Michael Kinsley to describe his typical day of information consumption, otherwise known as reading. Ambinder's day begins and ends with Twitter, and there's plenty of Twitter in between. No mention of books, except as vacation material via the Kindle. I'm sure Ambinder still reads books when he's not on vacation, but it didn't occur to him to include them in his account, and I'd guess that this is because they're not a central part of his reading life.

And he's not alone. Just about everyone I know complains about the same thing when they're being honest--including, maybe especially, people whose business is reading and writing. They mourn the loss of books and the loss of time for books. It's no less true of me, which is why I'm trying to place a few limits on the flood of information that I allow into my head.

I spend a considerable amount of time reading books, because I blog about reading books too. I usually do some reading in the morning. Right now, I'm reading "In Old Virginia: Slavery, Farming, and Society in the Journal of John Walker" by Claudia L. Bushman. Basically this woman got a hold of this Virginia planter's diary and is analyzing it and talking about the particulars of daily life in Virginia and the South.

A White House official, speaking on background, stressed that the meeting in no way signals a retreat from Obama's commitment to push ahead with comprehensive health care reform. He's interested in hearing out Republican ideas, the official said, but when the discussion is done he wants to see a bill move forward--and pass.

But those around him have a more specific diagnosis - and one that is striking in its uniformity. The Obama White House is geared for campaigning rather than governing, they say.

In dozens of interviews with his closest allies and friends in Washington - most of them given unattributably in order to protect their access to the Oval Office - each observes that the president draws on the advice of a very tight circle. The inner core consists of just four people - Rahm Emanuel, the pugnacious chief of staff; David Axelrod and Valerie Jarrett, his senior advisers; and Robert Gibbs, his communications chief.