Watching Eddington is akin to staring at your reflection in a carnival mirror for two hours and twenty-five minutes; it's wacky, exaggerated, and distorted—and you are the source from which it springs. For all the movie's hyperbole, it rings disturbingly true. While so much has happened in the U.S. over the last five years, Eddington is a jocular, jolting reminder that nothing’s progressed; we’ve been running in place this whole fucking time.

It wasn’t until “Toxic” came out in 2003 that my wall of resistance finally crumbled. Reluctantly, I admitted to myself and the world at large that yes, I was in fact a fan of the Princess of Pop. It was that damn 80’s Bollywood sample that got me—"Tere Mere Beech Mein". And after the glowy, beautiful, futuristic Blade Runneresque music video companion aired, well I was Britney’s for life after that.

I don't listen to R. Kelly anymore, but that doesn’t stop his songs from creeping into my thoughts. Recently, I was battling period cramps, breathing deeply and staring off into nothing while waiting for the max recommend dosage of ibuprofen to kick in, when the first couple bars of his Bump n’ Grind unexpectedly began playing on loop in my head. Sensuous, seductive—wrong?

After more than four weeks of around-the-clock efforts to combat nine wildfires spread across Los Angeles County, the last of the blazes, Eaton and Palisades, were finally 100% contained on January 31st. Just two days later, Fire Chief Anthony Marrone and Captain Sheila Kelliher Berkoh, alongside 20 other heroic LA firefighters, took to the stage to present the final category of the night, Album of the Year. They were met with the longest standing ovation of the night. Well deserved, and yes I cried. And yes, I’m crying again, dammit.