An emotional interaction between Kate, an A.L.S. patient played by Hilary Swank, and Bec, Kate’s caretaker played by Emmy Rossum. While Swank’s portrayal of an A.L.S. victim is excruciating and persuasive, Rossum’s depiction of a wild college student is sincere and convincing. Their powerful performances are the key success of the film.

Under the mentorship of Đàm Vĩnh Hưng, Trọng Khương released his debut, Mộng Bình Thường, covering standards. From the bluesy opening on “Gởi Gió Cho Mây Ngàn Bay” (Đoàn Chuẩn and Từ Linh) to the closing duet with Mr. Đàm on “Chiều Nay Không Có Em” (Ngô Thụy Miên), Trọng Khương doesn’t have much freshness to offer, specially in this overcrowded market of recording old ballads. The exceptions are the bright swinging “Cô Bắc Kỳ Nho Nhỏ” (Phạm Duy) and the Latin-inflected “Chỉ Có Em” (Lam Phương). Both tunes have the light, joyful vibe that suggests the simple dream he alludes to in the title. The album would have worked better if he opted for more strip-down productions.

Based on research and interviews with parents (and a grandmother), Jennifer Senior’s book explores the effects on modern parenting. From infancy to years in primary schools to adolescence, each chapter chronicles the hardship of raising children. The journey is no fun and could be quite frightening in the teenage years when kids deal with drug, depression, and suicide. And where is the joy in parenting? Senior finds it hard to quantify. If I read this book before having kids, I might not wanted to be a parent. There’s no turning back now.

On the surface, Kendrick Lamar is a swift, gifted rapper. In “For Free?,” the second track off his newest release, To Pimp a Butterfly, he rhymes like Ella Fitzgerald scatting over the hard-swing jazz arrangement. At the core, he is a sharp, skilled lyricist. Using the pimping metaphor, Lamar turns his dick on America: “You’re bad bitch / I picked cotton that made you rich / Now my dick ain’t free.” From the funkified groove (“Wesley’s Theory”) to the Compton’s big bass (“Hood Politics”) to the Latin-inspired rhythm (“I”), Lamar has crafted an outstanding album rich in sonics and affluent in lyrics. Lamar should get the creds he deserved for this joint.

Ngọc Anh’s newest release is a predictable, yawn-worthy cover of Lam Phương’s ballads. Like Lệ Quyên, Ngọc Anh brings nothing fresh to the old standards. Even the music productions are dull and lifeless. Listening to Cám Ơn Người Tình makes you want to return to Bạch Yến’s superb interpretation of Lam Phương’s music.

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.