All right. This song is growing on me. It's just so expertly done in every facet. And the video helps. It's exactly what it should it be. (Justin Timberlake eats cereal while Jay-Z watches basketball. They're just like us!) Which is all totally what you'd expect. Immaculate execution, carefully engineered for maximum possible popular appeal. Which points to the problem, too, of course. "But he don't know the meaning of dope," said GZA, complaining about a honkey A&R executive on the Wu-Tang's "Protect Ya Neck." "When he's looking for a suit-and-tie rap that's cleaner than a bar of soap!"
On a recent trip to Vero Beach, I was interested and a little dismayed-in a way that's probably unavoidable in Florida when you consider the ongoing clash between the lush vegetation and strip-mall civilization-to learn that my parents' condominium is situated on the former site of a large botanical garden. Originally called Jungle Garden, it was built in 1922 on land purchased by Arthur McKee and Waldo Sexton (an engineer and a citrus grower, respectively) who like many of today's rich-ass motherfuckers financial leaders were obsessed with orchids and water lilies, and brought rare specimens from around the world to showcase to the interested public.