Morning, folks! Brief Roundup this morning—I was at a wedding in New Hampshire over the weekend, and the bulk of my arts consumption was listening to the outro to Akron/Family’s “Gravelly Mountains of the Moon” over and over and over on the platform at DCA, because it is just so damn good.

Here’s some other stuff I ran across, though:

-A pretty milquetoast profile of country pop star Brad Paisley. (Not available in full online, but here’s the abstract.) Writer Kelefa Sanneh takes a swipe at discrediting the schism between the hard-livin’, whiskeybreath troubadors of Hank Williams/Townes Van Zandt-era country music and the post-Garth Brooks, corporate, uber-bourguois, teetolating, nonthreatening chick-flick fluff purveyed by Paisley and his contemporaries by explaining that country music has always been “about entertainment.” Hm.

Chelsea Clinton’s gummy smile on every newspaper cover in every Hudson News, especially the dailies in LaGuardia. But good for this blogger for pointing out the nuptials of a more culturally significant celebrity daughter.

-A bunch of people who agreed with Tricia Olszewski’s unflattering appraisal of Dinner for Shmucks. A bad comedy is always such a greater sin when it teases you with Paul Rudd. It’s like finding out the beautiful, totally cool girl you have a crush on is dating a douche.

Obama’s press liaison doesn’t like Weezy, and Obama doesn’t know what Pitchfork is, according to this meta-blogger (and this meta-meta-blog post.)

Sorry for the haterade today, folks. Too much time in airports.

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