As I am tuning back into hip-hop, I am impressed with the way young rappers stepping up their flow. They can rhyme slow; they can rhyme fast. They can rhyme inside the beat; they can rhyme ahead of the beat. Their expansive flow made up for their limited lyricism. Here are a few recent albums with crazy flow.

T.I. is the veteran of flow and his recent Paperwork is the proof. The album kicks off with “King,” in which he starts out slow then progresses into speedy delivery. The opener is so hypnotic that you wish the track never ends. Strong contenders include the political “The National Anthem” and the emotional “Light Em Up (RIP Doe B).” As with T.I.’s previous works, Paperwork is distracted with tracks for the radio and the strip clubs.

Without guest appearances, J. Cole’s 2014 Forest Hills Drive provides an interrupted experience from start to finish. While he goes hard on “Fire Squad” criticizing white artists for stealing their shines, he becomes a softie on “Wet Dreamz” reflecting on his first love. Cole can rhyme and sing his own hooks, but he still needs to improve his storytelling.

Under Pressure is Logic’s debut showcasing his flow. In the last 20 seconds of “Gang Related,” he spits like a machine gun sweeping the street. His cadence is clear and his flow is breathless, but his storyline could be more vivid.

The opening “Dark Sky” off Big Sean’s third studio release, Dark Sky Paradise, show off his flow (frome slow to fast) as well as his tone (tenor to baritone). “Paradise” is laced with profanity: “I always want to fuck that bitch / Thank you God I fucked that bitch.” Damn, where can I find a God like that?

As with most rappers, misogyny seems to be the easiest target. Although I can’t relate to most of its content (drug, sex, gun, and lifestyle), I still enjoy hip-hop for its art. And flow is one of the elements I love.

A compelling guide explaining the craft of micromessaging. From tweets to taglines, slogans to sound bites, and domain names to brand names, Christopher Johnson teaches and illustrates the important of communication in “the age of the Incredible Shrinking Message.” Microstyle is recommended for anyone who cares about writing on the web.

Bob Dylan kicks off his 36th studio release with a worn-out rendition of “I’m a Fool to Want You.” His approach, which relies on raw emotion over technique, is a reminiscent of Billie Holiday’s, but not as rough. In “The Night We Called It a Day,” he proceeds in the Dylan signature style: singing off melody. He then turns the jazz standard “Autumn Leaves” into a slow-burning country rock. Shadow in the Night is an intriguing ballad cover from an old rocker.

I have tremendous respect for Elizabeth Warren ever since she decided to entered the race and beat Scott Brown for the Senate seat in Massachusetts. In her heartfelt, engaging A Fighting Chance, Warren recounts that battle as well as her endless fights against big banks and huge corporations. Her writing is clear and easy to comprehend, even when she explains laws, policies, and big numbers in the banking industry. If she runs for president in the next election, she will definitely get my vote. You simply can’t find a better candidate who fights for the children, women, seniors, poor, and middle class. I hope she will be in for a bigger fighting chance.

Hôm nay Đạo được nghỉ học nên hẹn hai má con nó ra khu Eden ăn trưa. Tôi đến sớm hơn nên đứng trước cái water fountain vừa đợi vừa đọc sách. Rồi một anh chàng (chắc lớn hơn tôi một vài tuổi) cùng một cô vợ trẻ xinh đẹp đến Bambu. Anh ấy chào hỏi tôi thì tôi cũng chào lại. Cô vợ vào trong mua chè còn anh ấy lấy ra điếu thuốc hút và mời tôi. Tôi từ chối và chợt nhớ anh ấy là thợ hớt tóc tôi đã từng gặp. Tôi hỏi, “Lâu nay đi ngang tiệm không thấy anh. Anh hết làm ở đó rồi hả.” Anh lịch sự trả lời, “Bây giờ em làm chổ khác rồi.” Tôi đùa hỏi thêm, “Dạo này còn đi massage nữa không?” Ảnh hơi ngạc nhiên nhưng cũng trả lời “Có vợ rồi. Hết rồi.”

Cách đây cũng năm sáu năm có một lần tôi đến tiệm cắt tóc để sửa lại sau khi vợ chơi cái tông đơ sát vào đầu lổm một chổ. Khi vào cắt tóc ảnh hỏi tôi sau vậy thì tôi cũng nói thật. Ảnh nói không sao để ảnh sửa lại. Trong lúc cắt thì cũng hỏi thăm qua lại vài câu vì trong tiệm chỉ có tôi và anh thợ. Anh cho biết là đang bảo lảnh vợ từ Việt Nam sang. Lúc cắt gần xong thì có một thanh niên vào tiệm. Anh thợ nó với người thanh niên đó, “Mầy cho tao cái địa chỉ của cái ‘động’ đi. Tao làm mất rồi.” Anh chàng thanh niên mở điện thoại di động ra và viếc xuống tờ giấy. Anh ấy hỏi tôi có muốn địa chỉ không tôi cười hỏi lại động gì? Ảnh nói đó là nơi Korean massage. Mấy em Hàng Quốc massage xong rồi “xử” luôn. Ảnh đùa thêm, “Lâu lâu phải sả đạn chứ không nó dồn lên đầu là nổ tung.” Tôi cười và từ chối địa chỉ. Đi đến chổ đó chắc là gia đình tan vỡ.

Khi vợ anh ấy quây trở lại với ly chè ba màu và ly cafe mocha, chúng tôi chào tạm biệt. Anh ấy không rủ tôi lại chổ anh hớt tóc đơn giản là vì sau năm năm tôi đã không còn tóc nữa.

From using the active voice to omitting needless words, Strunk and White’s classic is worth revisiting now and then to remind you to write with clarity. Rereading this little book has always been one of the best ways to kill a couple of hours.

All my life I tend to look for a father figure because my dad is hardly around. In retrospect, I have met and become acquaintances with the men that I had a great deal of respect for. Unfortunately, circumstances changed and so were their presence. Although they appeared in and out of my life, I am glad that they came along. My memory of them will never fade. They will always be apart of my life; therefore, this piece is dedicated to the men I look up to.

I landed in the US for the first time in Connecticut during the winter. It was freezing cold and my oldest sister’s husband at the time took off his jacket and put it on me. I immediately felt the connection with him. He took my side when his sons, who are just a few years younger than me, got into a fight with me. He helped me with my fifth-grade homework even though he had limited English. When he couldn’t figured out the answers, he took my homework to work with him so he could continue to work on during his breaks. I was glad that we lived under his roof as we started our new life in the States. Unfortunately, his marriage with my sister did not last. Although we have moved on with our own lives, I will never forget those time with him.

Years later, my older middle sister met her boyfriend who was charming and skillful at cooking authentic Vietnamese dishes. I always loved hanging out at his trailer home listening to Vietnamese music, watching Chinese TV series, and eating delicious food. At the time when ballroom dancing at Vietnamese party was the trend, he taught me all the moves: chachacha, rumba, tango, bepop, and valse. After he and my sister got married, they sold the mobile home and bought a real house. My mom and I moved in together with them. He got me into online trading. We had many deep conversations on life and stock. Unfortunately, his marriage with my sister did not work out. I still see him once in while when he comes to my sister’s house to pick up the kids, but we are no longer closed. Nevertheless, I will never forget those time with him.

In high school I dated a girl. Couple months into the relationship, she introduced me to her older sister who introduced me to her boyfriend. He was attending college at the time and he was a handy guy. He helped me fixed my car, like replacing the battery and the transmission belt. He understood that I could not afford to pay an auto shop to do so. We drank together a few times even though I was underage. Unfortunately, the girl and I broke up on a bad term. As a result, I have never seen him since, but the memory of him lingers.

In another relationship, I became closed to her aunt’s husband. He and I bonded over music, food, and drinks. I was already out of college; therefore, I was legal. Weekends at his house were always filled with delicious Vietnamese dishes, wines, beers, and laughters. He stuttered when he talked unless he had some alcohol in his system. He was normally quiet until he had a few drinks. He cracked some of the most hilarious stuttering jokes. For example, he once said that you can never win a street-style argument over a stutterer because he could say, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck you more times he you could say fuck him.” He was a generous man who often picked up the bills when we went out to fancy restaurants with the big family. He lived a simple live and strived to be an excellent father. Those were the two characteristics that I wanted to apply in my own life. I am sure he still has all that characters in him. Unfortunately, our relationship ended when his niece and I broke up. Disconnecting with him hurt me the most. In many ways, he was my role model and my father figure. I have tried all I could to stay connected, but all we have left now is the good old memory.

When I first met my wife, she talked a great deal about her father; therefore, I could not wait to meet the man that had a profound influence on the love of my life. I can still recall the day we came to pick him and his wife at the airport as they were returning from their vacation. He was skinny and wearing glasses that made him look like a teacher. He was, indeed, a teacher. One occasion, when my wife and I were still dating, I stayed with her whole family at her sister’s apartment for a holiday break. Her father asked me to help him fix the front gate. I did not know what I was suppose to do so he handed me a wrench and asked me to unscrew something. I held up the wrench, but did not know how to operate it. He said to me that my father is a house builder and yet I don’t even know how to use a wrench. I replied to him with a joke that I am not my father, but I actually meant it. He took me under his wing and taught me to be the man around the house. I was so happy that I had finally found a father who were willing to show me the rope. When my wife and I bought our house, he helped us out with painting the walls, changing the toilet seats, and replacing the shower heads. Whenever things broke around the house, I consulted him first. I determined to learn as much as I could from him not just how to fix things around the house, but also how to keep a marriage last. He and his wife had been married for forty years; therefore, the man knew a thing or two about maintaining a long-lasting relationship. Unfortunately, cancer took his life. I was devastated; life was so unfair. I thought I have founded a father at last, but then I lost him just like that. Although we are physically separated, I will never forget the man who gave me his blessings as well as his beautiful, precious daughter.

As I am reflecting on the men I have been looking up to, I realize that I still have one more in my life. My wife’s sister’s husband is like an older brother to me. No wait, he is my older brother who is kind, humble, and generous. He works hard everyday from dust to dawn, and yet I never heard a word of complain from him. He is outstanding at establishing his professional career as well as doing home improvement. Whatever fixes we need around the house, he is our first resource. Base on the first time we met, I would have never known that he is an introvert. Maybe he was just asking the right questions and I was just doing all the talking. These days we hang out at least three days a week. With our kids, we do almost everything together from going vacation to having sleepover. Because we see each other so often we hardly have anything to say, and that is perfectly fine. We are comfortable with just being around each other. I am thankful to have him and my sister-in-law living closed by. They are our immediate family and I hope that they won’t move anywhere else.

As for my biological father, he is still the man that made me. It is unfortunate that he chooses to live his life without me, even to this day. I do have some great memories of him, but they are as far back as when I was a couple years old. At that time I was too young to understand what bonding even meant. Now being a father myself, I have nothing to look back to guide me. As a result, I am improvising my ways through. Being a father is hard; therefore, I no longer hold grudges against my dad. I accept the way our relationship is meant to be. I am not a great father myself; I have many flaws. At least I am here for my kids. They can learn from my mistakes and not to repeat them. Whether I will succeed or fail, they can look back to their childhood to use as a guide as they navigate through life.

Để đáp ứng yêu cầu của những khán giả hâm mộ nhạc trữ tình, Lệ Quyên cho ra đời Khúc Tình Xưa 3 với 11 nhạc phẩm quá quen thuộc như “Hoa Nử Về Đêm” (Trần Thiện Thanh), “Kiếp Cầm Ca” (Huỳnh Anh), và “Đêm Tâm Sự” (Trúc Phương) song ca với Thái Châu.

Với phần hoà âm trung bình của nhạc sĩ Tấn Phong cộng với cách trình bài trung thành của ca sĩ Lệ Quyên, Khúc Tình Xưa 3 sẽ không đem đến cho người nghe những gì bất ngờ. Lệ Quyên không nhọc công đem lại những nét mới lạ. Cô chỉ hát cho đúng điệu bolero và ra cảm tình.

Tuy album không dở nhưng nghe Lệ Quyên hát lại “Người Đi Ngoài Phố” (Anh Việt Thu), “Ai Cho Tôi Tình Yêu” (Trúc Phương), và “Sương Lạnh Chiều Đông” (Mạnh Phát) làm tôi thèm được thưởng thức lại giọng hát Thanh Thúy đã thu âm trước 1975.

In fifty short lessons, including the distinction between a and the, the use of punctuation to create special effects and the neutral tone in gender, Roy Peter Clark encourages readers to “live inside the language.” It’s a fulfilling read for anyone who uses language to communicate, which is all of us.

What a charismatic stand-up comedian. For an hour and forty-five minutes, Gabriel Iglesias delivered his craft with high energy, clever transition, and sincere storytelling. From making flawless Indian accent to dealing with his weight to raising his stepson, Iglesias never ceased to be hilarious. He brought back so many great memories including fixing the good old Nintendo games and using the paid phone. The Fluffy Movie is highly entertaining.