Every now and then, you realize how amazing it is to live in Southern California. I’m aware this is probably true everywhere, but after months of mediocre weather, February marked one of the first erratic months of the year. Right now it’s a modest 75% outside, but let it not be forgotten that within the past two weeks it’s gone from borderline sweaty summer weather to an extensive multiday rainstorm to the ideal chilly weather where I finally get to pull the jacket out and enjoy the act of bundling up. I’m aware this is probably an annoying thing to brag about, given how bad the weather is in other regions of America, but as someone who tends to prepare for their day based on instinct, it’s been hard to plan long-term whether I want to go out and do something.
In fairness, my long-term memory is probably shot enough that I’ve said this over a few months now. However, the random heatwave in the middle of rain is still absurd. Then again, that’s why I write these essays… to condense a short period of weeks into a matter of accessible thoughts. It may be why I’m keen to be fairly self-indulgent and cover topics at length with the opinion that I would one day want to revisit where my life was in February 2026. That’s not wrong necessarily, but I always find it odd what I’ve chosen to remember and not. As someone who lives in the home of “no weather,” it makes sense that I’ve often associated it with events and releases more than dates and times. Maybe it’s “living in the moment,” but I’m not wishing to get psychological.
Which is why I’ve chosen to begin with something more trivial that’s been on my mind the past few weeks. At the end of January, The Oscars did their annual announcement of the nominees, which, to be completely honest, seems like a halfway decent class. I’m not totally sure who from F1 (2025) bribed them, but the rest have piqued my interest a little and continue to reflect a shift away from the conventional Oscar behavior that I grew up covering. Anyway, a major reason I tend to love this time is playing catch-up to the nominees who have slipped under the cracks, whether due to December’s onslaught or simply just not paying attention. I think about how that Best Picture line-up got me to see Anatomy of a Fall (2023) not once but twice in the month after. There’s this rich inspiration to celebrate film… and I feel like it’s missing this year.
In theory, a lot of the nominees are currently available through distribution. However, it stops becoming cost-effective when you realize how many are either on competing streaming apps or still behind that dreaded (to cheapskates like myself, anyway) paywall. I get that my alternative was always to go out and see them in theaters, which, in itself, was more of a cost deficiency, but even that’s proving to not be tried and true.
In the month since the nominations, there haven’t been any significant rereleases for me to fill in the gaps. I think about Hamnet (2025), which seems to only have one early morning and late night showing per theater nowadays. There’s also Sentimental Value (2025), which, as a huge fan of Joachim Trier, I was hyped to see, but naively believed that waiting two weeks AFTER IT GOT SEVERAL OSCAR NOMINATIONS would be a reasonable time frame. If there’s been one guaranteed name on anyone’s marquee, it’s been Marty Supreme (2025). Don’t get me wrong. It’s probably my favorite of this year’s class in many respects, but there has to be room for others during a period of comparable low-end quality competition. I don’t wish to besmirch the name of Primate (2026), but there needs to be room for these films to thrive after the fact. I would argue that nobody’s going to care about this year’s ceremony as a result, but I already believe that the Sinners (2025) and One Battle After Another (2025) crowds will show up regardless on if they’ve seen the other eight.
Which is all to say that I’ve filled in my gaps where I can. I’m not as diligent as I was six years ago, but I’ve been curious to see how everything is stacking up. Even something I perceived as corny crowd pleasers like Song Sung Blue (2025) ended up winning me over, and I think that, while she needs to still apologize immensely for Music (2021), Kate Hudson earned that nomination. I love Mary Bronstein’s If I Had Legs I’d Kick You (2025) and, as mentioned earlier this week, Blue Moon (2025) is Richard Linklater’s best film in over a decade.
As has been tradition, I usually spend Super Bowl Sunday™ away from the crowds. Where I could probably mope at home and complain about that awful commercial that repurposed Phil Collins’ “Against All Odds,” I decided to just indulge. I’ll admit that my options were more exciting in the past, especially the year that The Zone of Interest (2023) came out, but I finally got around to Zootopia 2 (2025). Despite continuing skepticism about Disney as a larger brand and purveyor of family entertainment, I think it’s a clever little film that really earns its big moments. Definitely their best sequel film since probably The Rescuers Down Under (1990), or at least their most warranted. With all that said, I am embarrassed by how much I want to see Hoppers (2026).
To avoid falling down a one-day rabbit hole, I’ll end by saying that I also bought the Criterion of Andrei Tarkovsky’s Mirror (1975) and have been obsessed ever since. I had only seen it once early into my Tarkovsky journey, and it mostly hit the mark. At the time, I was more obsessed with Stalker (1979) and how sprawling everything was. Now, I’m not so sure. Every scene in Mirror wins me over, leaving me deep in thought of its greater meaning as the artistry conveys that perfect middle-ground between dream and reality. Then again, I had bought Mulholland Drive (2001) last Super Bowl Sunday™ to pay my respects to David Lynch, so maybe I am just getting into my abstract phase. Though if Mirror is anything like Mulholland Drive, I will be watching it a few more times before the ball drops.
.webp)
At the risk of breaking up pacing a little bit, I feel the need to shift a little. If there was one thing about the Super Bowl that caught my radar, it was the Bad Bunny halftime performance. As someone who has tried to break the notion of only listening to English language music (Rosalia’s “Lux” was in my Top 10 last year, for example), I gave his Grammy-winning album a listen and… I like it! He’s very good at crafting a beat and harmonies. I won’t go into specifics, but that performance was the most relieved I’ve been about the world in 2026, in a time where I.C.E. is actively destroying our nation, to have a Puerto Rican use the biggest possible platform to call for unity and love.
Sometimes you forget how numbing the past decade is when you hear stuff like that. As much as I’ve rolled my eyes at the good-intentioned “I didn’t understand anything he said, but it was good!” response, there is something to just embracing other cultures and letting them coexist to build a stronger ideology. My heart goes out to people in Minnesota and other states currently facing backlash right now. I may not know everything you do, but I admire how much you guys have teamed up to make I.C.E. agents’ domesticity a living hell. Keep up the good work!
Which is all to say that February ended on a reminder of how much has been lost in the past decade and what I fear the younger generations will never know. Following a winter Olympics in Milan Cortina that was mostly enjoyable (sorry guys, but the summer has more diversity than “sliding things across ice”), I took in The State of the Union and was quickly reminded how much current events just wear me down. If you have to ask why I don’t consume the news regularly, or at the clip of a social media user, it’s because of how every detail will consume me, making me overthink the inhumanity on display and how the existential debate of freewill and compassion is ultimately at a losing end right now.
In theory, everything could be changed for the better if people changed their viewpoint. Everyone has the capability to alter how they see the world today, nay, this hour. It would take a lot of effort, but a big takeaway from the modern conservative movement has been a recognition of how miserable and empty the exclusionist rhetoric is. SOTU is supposed to be a moment where the president gives a rap sheet of accomplishments, and it felt at times closer to stand-up crowd work, including a rather poignant moment where he attempted to make Democrats look heartless for not standing.
If judged solely from a writing standpoint, I would say this moment is going to probably play well. However, the correlation (shoveling snow to immigration) was absurd and reflective of how much this bothered me on a script level. As an English major, I am sensitive to cadence and structure, and this was a horrendously unfocused SOTU. I also genuinely hate the buzzword era of politics and hate how it’s turned the whole speech into a cartoon parody of itself. Even in situations that I would approve of, like at the Olympics, where ice skaters said, “They hate to see woke bitches winning,” I couldn’t help but resent it because it feels more like a taunt than something of any meaningful substance. I respect woke’s origins and that cultural value, but it has been bastardized so badly that it’s just another overused word meant often for trivial, nonsensical shorthand depending on who is using it and, the people who claim to be part of it, often do so mostly under malicious intent toward their opponents. It’s all ridiculous, and I hated hearing lines like “drill baby drill” or “you’re going to get tired of winning” return. It was cute at first until you realized it’s been a decade of nothing but semantics debates.
With that said, I also try to watch SOTU with some distance, partially to keep the pain from sinking too far in. This is also because I’m curious to see how this will be presented to someone who isn’t actively engaged with ongoing events. It’s why I sometimes watch C-SPAN when they air old debates or speeches from noteworthy figures, and I try to understand what makes the winner… a winner. When you remove fact, you can understand why Ronald Reagan outclassed Jimmy Carter, or how George W. Bush had this charming nature. They also had a sense of diplomacy, and, for better or worse, Reagan could at least craft a story that resonated with you after the TV was shut off. I’m not saying that SOTU ’26 didn’t have that, but it was a very repetitive, cyclical conversation interrupted by some of the most demeaning crowd work I’ve ever heard. How have we elected a man with a heart so broken that he pulls the world down with him? I tell you, I’ve seen gangbangs online with less gratuitous cock sucking than what they were doing Tuesday night. They were also more mutual in receiving benefits as well.
Then again, among the economics and xenophobia was another topic that’s been close to my heart but has been tough to follow as insistently. In a move that feels painfully shoehorned in, the president acknowledged how a mother’s daughter had been placed in a very bad situation. The suggestion was that she had transitioned FTM because of this. Nothing about the actual story confirms this was because of her transgender identity. It was more unfortunate circumstances on par with the bad twist of luck 90% of the Let’s Make a Deal-style guest stars faced. I hate to say it, but that’s life. With that said, they painted it as if detransitioning saved their life. I do not know much about the story, but it does feel like the latest note in the quest for trans genocide, and I hate how illogically it’s being exploited by one largely unrelated circumstance.
If I can get personal, another thing that seems to happen when I watch SOTU anymore is that it feels dehumanizing, that the world I love is actively at risk. It’s not always just an LGBTIA+ thing, but more the recognition that I was taught about the melting pot theory, how Mexican culture is just objectively great from its art to its food and fashion, that innovation came from compromise and growth. Watching somebody work so hard to take it away and not have any pushback is a major reason I feel disillusioned. It’s maybe why most private conversations about LA28 tend to involve one reference to somebody’s casket. The question, as usual, is whether things are better now than they were, and I hate that my 2025 conclusion was “it’s not.” I wasn’t even sure it was better than 2020, because at least that ended with promises of a vaccine and a fair election. There’s a lot on a personal level to be proud of, but there is shame in expressing that on a grander scale for fear of discourse actively rejecting your point, where debates can’t be won without harming your enemy. That’s what depresses me about SOTU. That, and its ability to be both downright satirical and destructive.
But hey, at least pop culture is doing okay. Lana Del Rey, Dorian Electra, and Underscores are releasing new music. Willow’s latest is a delightful jazz pop record. Even Mitski has something coming out today as I publish this. Given how much I love her last album, I am eager to see where she takes things next. As a person who owns a chimera cat, I am also a big fan of the album artwork. Also, shoutout to Daniel Blumberg’s latest work on The Testament of Ann Lee (2025), which has been on regular rotation since its release. I may be a lapsed Catholic, but certain harmonies will always make me emotional.
In an effort to not end this on too drastic a note, I thought I would have fun and compare two recent hip-hop releases. While I haven’t found anything as sonically fun as A$AP Rocky’s “Don’t Be Dumb” yet, there’s something to be said for having noteworthy output this early in the year. I’m talking mostly about J. Cole’s “The Fall-Off” and Baby Keem’s “Ca$ino.” On one end, you have an alleged swan song from somebody claiming to be in The Big Three, and on the other is somebody younger in their career releasing a heartfelt return after five years. I may only know more about Baby Keem because of his associations with Kendrick Lamar, especially on “Mister Morale and the Big Steppers.” Even so, both are in the camp of people I haven’t paid much attention to on a project-by-project basis.
In the past month, I’ve been fascinated by the conversation around J. Cole as a greater public figure. In theory, he should be the artist that I like a lot. He’s a storyteller whose bars are often layered in intricate wordplay and themes. There’s an intellect that makes me understand why somebody would call him a favorite. Given that he’s also not from one of the major hip-hop markets, it also helps him seem like more of an everyman trying to follow his own muse.
With that said, my takeaway from recent discourse is a deep-seated belief that in order to even be considered “The Best Rapper,” you need to transcend your own genre. Before 2024, I wasn’t familiar with J. Cole’s work. A lot of that is my fault, yes, but I think back to when I was younger, and there was this ubiquity around 2Pac, Jay-Z, or even Lil Wayne. Depending on when you were asked, they would be listed as the greats. Even somebody telling me that Rakim was a pioneer got me to listen to “Paid In Full.” It’s something every respectable rapper strives for, but I think it’s the culture’s job to give you that title. I don’t know if “the culture” gave J. Cole that, and I wasn’t paying attention – especially as a very casual hip-hop fan – but he wasn’t on my radar compared to Vince Staples, Danny Brown, or even Billy Woods. Listening to J. Cole after 2024, I just had no instinct that he transcended his own talk. Was he good? Yes. I’ve heard Spectrum Pulse call him The B+ Student, and I very much agree. However, I think that eagerness makes him feel more methodical and makes me immediately more skeptical.
In fairness, I had been familiar with Kendrick Lamar since his breakout with “Good Kid, M.A.A.D City.” I’ve even done a thorough relistening of his catalog this year. With that said, I have stumbled upon random Dissect videos on YouTube that make me understand how meticulous he is as a performer… and yet he doesn’t seem methodical in the same way. There is such an awareness for Top 40 appeal that Kendrick Lamar has, and it’s why I don’t fault anyone who calls him the best. That, and I would argue he’s more successfully subversive in the genre and makes party anthems that are both central to narrative albums but also thematically pivotal to current events. Think of “Alright” and how it functioned on “To Pimp A Butterfly” even as it was adopted by Black Lives Matter.
I’m not wishing to discredit J. Cole, but “The Big Three” debate always annoyed me because of how anonymous he felt, like it was more of a publicity stunt than anything else. It’s maybe why I was hesitant going into “The Fall-Off” to think of it as any grand statement of his career, like it was a perfect encapsulation of who he was. Frankly, my initial listen led me to believe that his “Birthday Blizzard” E.P. was more enjoyable before digging in and accepting that his methodical nature meant that it required more work to appreciate.
To be honest, Kendrick Lamar’s collective projects have felt like that at times, but even still, he had singles that could resonate. I can still remember going to basketball games and hearing “Humble” come on. To be honest, “Damn” is the one record I struggle to love, but that’s because it’s the most explicitly methodical. Maybe if I gave J. Cole more time, I could come around to the conversation, but everything I’ve seen has suggested that, yes, he’s good, but he’s not that good.
Upon revisiting “The Fall-Off” with the intention to focus on quality, I found myself able to engage with J. Cole’s vision more. Sure, the length was a bit overbearing and caused moments to slip through the cracks, but I can’t deny he had a drive that was at last challenging the form and creating a vision of legacy that was sometimes endearing. As someone in the back half of their 30s, I want to root for anyone with that introspection, but sometimes the wordplay was too clever to be emotionally satisfying. Also, and this is not a bad thing, his love songs were downright corny. It built a versatile vision of himself, yes, but it also showed how this felt like an anything-goes record. I also took the initiative to like every song that piqued my interest (so at least 60% enjoyable), and it was less than half the record.
I’m aware I haven’t discussed Baby Keem as much yet. If anything, I’ve given more time to his cousin, and that may be for good measure. To be honest, I had zero expectations for “Ca$ino.” While I had liked his appearance on “Mister Morale and the Big Steppers,” there’s not a lot to suggest a breakthrough. If anything, this would be a casual listen, and maybe something would resonate. On the bright side, it was also a third as long as “The Fall-Off,” which does and doesn’t contribute to my overall preference for it.
For starters, the shorter runtime meant I got to revisit it more often without feeling intimidated. While I recognize we’re also talking about rappers at different stages of their careers, I think how they present themselves says a lot. Like “The Fall-Off,” “Ca$ino” is conceptually linked. In this case, he’s comparing his life to the highs and lows of gambling, managing to take the listener on a journey through music that’s exciting one minute and despairing the next. I wouldn’t call the collective work the most cohesive experience in the world, nor is he an amazing lyricist, but Baby Keem has personality. His vulnerability isn’t being overshadowed by expectations, and I’d argue he just feels more genuine about putting this album out. Even something like “Good Flirts,” where it’s mostly a goofy song about hooking up, has this sincerity I rarely felt with J. Cole. If anything, it was there on the corny songs, and those haven’t lingered as much in the imagination despite possibly being more joyful.
I’m not wishing to debate who is better because I think that gets too far into semantics, but for me, “Ca$ino” comes out of February 2026 as the clear winner. Maybe it’s because of how new Baby Keem is, but there’s not this skepticism of every song solely because he needed to be part of a league. It’s maybe why the people I would consider best right now aren’t even concerned with carrying that flag right now. It’s more about following your own muse, and they both do it well. However, I think as far as presentation, Baby Keem is just more fun, able to make you engaged with his full story, even when it’s downright tragic.
I’m sorry if that seems like a self-indulgent way to end this essay, especially when it has little to do with general life. However, I just needed to detox after that State of the Union passage. Maybe I should put on some Hidden Brain and go for a walk right now and remember why the world is a good place. It gets hard when the message you are told is so bleak and intentionally designed to hurt others.
Other than that… I am happy to say that NCAA men’s volleyball is back up and running. While CSULB is not doing too hot compared to UCLA, we are still ranked in second place and will hopefully fight for that top spot come finals. I am less confident that anyone from the school will be in March Madness, but the day is quickly approaching when we’ll find out how the tables turn. Hopefully, they’ll be on par with last year, when I managed to predict nothing but the winner of the men’s bracket.
I’m also gearing up to see Maggie Gyllenhaal’s The Bride (2026) in the next few weeks. Maybe it helps that I’m a Frankenstein fan, but this looks really cool even if it’s probably just going to be a Suicide Squad (2016) take on Mary Shelley. Then again, Gyllenhaal did the amazing The Lost Daughter (2021), so there’s always hope. I doubt she’s going to be an Emerald Fennell type who just immediately tanks her directorial career with schlock. Also, if I could sneak in a few more Best Picture-nominated films before Oscar Sunday, that’d be great.
So I don’t know what’s left to really say. I am currently in the middle of outlining my next novel and will hopefully get to writing the first draft sooner rather than later. Depending on what I decide, I’ll also be continuing my journey through Louise Weard’s Castration Movie II (2025) this weekend. I was a fan of the first, though a five-hour movie sounds so daunting that I’m unsure if I’ll get through it in one sitting. I found that to be the most difficult part of my first go. But I am fascinated by the larger vision, even if I’m not sure it needed to be that “unedited” if you follow.
Now that I’ve overstayed my welcome, I’m going to say goodbye. I hope that everyone had a great February and ate a lot of conversation hearts (I know I did!). Here’s hoping that March is even better and that life starts to pick up. Things may be bleak, but there’s always something to make the days pass by more easily. We’ll just have to sit back and find out. Most of all, please take care of yourselves. Maybe enjoy March Madness and make sure to root for UCLA’s demise in volleyball in the next few weeks. Other than that, have fun and stay safe.
Comments
Post a Comment