Digital Refrain

Illustration by Mary Grace Ewald

Digital Refrain contributors Alex Wong and Jesse Golomb exchange emails, dissecting the most recent episode of Breaking Bad.

Jesse: Tonight felt special, Alex. After queueing up episode one on my Netflix just six weeks ago, I watched my first live episode of Breaking Bad.

Well, sort of. I DVR’d it and watched the episode 45 minutes late. My NBA2K12 Knicks Association team had a elimination playoff game against the 2014 Celtics, and I just couldn’t miss it.

In case you were wondering: yes, Jeremy Lin is still on the Knicks in my alternative, less-depressing basketball universe, and no, it didn’t matter. I still got swept in the first round as the eight seed. Some things are simply past the point of salvation.

Like Walter White, for example.

That much has been pretty clear for awhile. But what hasn’t been clear is when exactly the nigh end is coming. One of the (many) many amazing things about Breaking Bad is just how safe and unscathed its protagonist has remained, even as he has dabbled in drug production and distribution, murder and serial murder, extortion and money laundering. From early on, I’ve been comparing this show to Dexter, another one of my favorite TV serials, and one I believe has not gotten nearly enough attention as it continues to glow through six seasons. That show has a criminal protagonist working under the nose of a family member in law enforcement. Finally, in last season’s finale (SPOILER ALERT), we were treated to the sight of Dexter’s dear old dectective sis catching him in the act. But whereas Dexter teased at that reveal for years, Breaking Bad has never even entertained it. I took a guess early on in my BB viewing (especially after catching a glimpse off the season five poster, where Walt seemed to be in a yellow jumpsuit) that one of the seasons would take place with Walter White behind bars. Yet despite all the battles and bruises accrued along the way, all the money won and morality lost, Walter White has barely a scratch on him. Never mind the fact that everyone around him is dead either in body or spirit; Heisenberg remains — at least for now — safe and sound from his somehow oblivious brother-in-law, as well as the King of his domain, The One Who Knocks.

It doesn’t seem like that’s going to be the case for much longer. And I don’t think any of us needed Walt’s 52nd birthday ‘party’ at the Denny’s in the season premiere to figure that out. The end is coming for Walter White, and it’s spelled out as clearly as the bacon on his breakfast plate.

The imagery was all over the place in this episode, so rampant that the final shot of a ticking clock seemed too obvious (sort of like last week’s Scarface viewing, even though I liked that little bit of meta-forshadowing — everyone dies in this movie! –  more than most). There was the clock ticking as Skyler sat, smoking a cigarette, waiting for Walt’s cancer to un-remiss. There was the fray on Walt’s Heisenberg hat, just waiting to unravel. There was Skyler’s pool stunt, which can only serve to make Hank (and Marie, and Walt Jr.) only more curious, only more prodding, only a bigger part of this grand scheme.

And oh how grand it’s been, and I’m not talking about the excellence of this series.

Like most viewers, I was thoroughly confused at the end of last week’s episode, when Walt tells Jesse that he believed Gus killed Victor because he ‘flew too close to the sun.’ Was Walt threatening Jesse? Was he implying Mike was next to go?

No. If anything, Walt was talking about himself — even if he didn’t realize it. For the entire series, Walt has done things and attempted to do things that no high school chemistry teacher — let alone any man — should think himself capable of. Not only has he been the center of this series, but he has been the center of this series’ universe. He is its god. The consequences of his actions are not only felt in the White household, where Skyler is so overcome by the chaos that the silence of the pool seems a welcome respite, but in Mexico, where the cartel is in shambles; in Texas, where several DEA agents lay dead; in Germany, where a multinational corporation is coming apart at the seems; and all over the world, where the scattered families of the victims of Wayfarer 515 grieve, unaware that a man in a hat could have saved one girl, and saved hundreds in the process.

Walt has flown too close to the sun for far too long. And as his hubris grows and his respect for logic and patience disappaites (“this train stops for nothing;” “I just know”), it’s about time he burnt up. Some have called these first few episodes, “meandering” and “procedural,” but I think — more than anything — the first four episodes of Breaking Bad’s last season have set our “hero” up for his fall. 

I’m already going long here, but a few more themes seem to popping up. These are more half-baked, but a few thoughts…

-There seems to be a switching of roles going on with Jesse and Walt. At the beginning of the series and throughout, Jesse was the impatient one, the one always wanting to push, push, push ahead, the one flying too close to the sun. Now, he is the one who preaches prudence, who is willing to give up his money to avert argument. Walt, on the otherhand, grows increasingly arrogant and ambitious.

-That final scene in the dark with Walt and Skyler was absolutely fantastic. Everything that’s been swirling under the surface with Skyler since the retirement home blew up came to a head. And I think anyone who thought last week’s car wash breakdown seemed sudden felt stupid. Skyler is trapped. Her husband is a murderer, and his ‘shit happens’ routine is BS. I think she bought his “I do this for my family routine for a while,” but after he announces his willingness to institutionalize his wife instead of quitting the business, I don’t think anyone — maybe even Walt included? — could believe that. I know that’s been an excuse of Walt’s for awhile, but I’m pretty sure tonight was the first time he made a conscious choice that he would harm his family instead of harming his business.

-I hate Marie. I hate that damn character. Sorry. For a show that has five principals, she has always been the weakest link and everytime she is on screen I wince. Sorry if I offended any Marie fans.

-I also have generally hated Skyler, and frankly, I haven’t been a big fan of Anna Gunn’s performance. She was absolutely spectacular in this episode. That’s what happens when a character becomes more than a shrew.

-Walt Jr. likes breakfast.

Ok, time to go to bed so I can read 25 episode recaps tomorrow morning. I’ll hit you back then.

Alex:

Sorry for the delayed response, taking a break from reading my daily “Sanchez-Teblow” Google news alert, equally great drama happening in Jets camp I tell you.

Loved this episode, loving this season.

The best imagery of the night the close-up shot of blood dripping down Walt’s head as he was shaving. Blood on his hands, bloodshed to come. The build-up is so great at this point I wonder when it’s all going to culminate.

It might be easy to say that things aren’t going to get really crazy until the last eight episodes next year — but you have to assume that after last night’s episode titled “Fifty-One”, a “Fifty-Two” episode is coming, and I’m really hoping they’ll give us an extended “flash forward” in the finale of the eight episodes this summer.

Without all the details in between, I want to see how we get to the diner scene sooner than later. Because that machine gun in the trunk means there’s still more story to tell a year from now.

I didn’t know how to interpret the last scene from the previous episode, but I like the way you’ve choose to read it. Breaking Bad has always built itself up as the season goes along. Consider all the elements that will have to contribute to the end game somehow aside from Skyler: Jesse finding out about Walt killing his girlfriend and poisoning the kid, Hank piecing it all together, Mike plotting some sort of long con on Walt and Jesse (it’s only a matter of time before he finds a way to eliminate them to take back the business), and Lydia.

I wasn’t so sure about Lydia’s first appearance several episodes ago, but everything about her last night — the mismatched shoes, planting a tracker on the container, and just her overall uneasiness about everything. Something must’ve happened in the past to make her this way. I hope they devote some time to telling that backstory, I trust that Vince Gilligan isn’t putting so much focus on a Madrigal executive for nothing, she will figure into the end game, and she’s as much of a wild card out there as anyone.

Other thoughts:

• Still very little of Jesse through episode four, which means something is brewing. Something always is.

• Walt Jr. without breakfast? A man with no country. Underrated line of the night, when he’s leaving Walt’s birthday party and Hank tells him to slow down when he’s driving. As he walks out he fires back: “Never”.

• There’s never been much use for Marie as an ancillary character, more just there for exposition and to further the story along from a narrative perspective. Although, I felt the same about Hank in the early seasons, he was a joke, a Vic Mackey lite to me. But that might be the most impressive character development work of the whole series, now he’s smarter than everyone and always one step ahead, although that will probably be his downfall. Few have squared off against Heinsenberg and lived to tell their tale.

Last thought: Skyler smoking in that last scene when Walt comes home, possible foreshadowing? We know that ricin cigarette is still lurking.

Jesse:

Good stuff. A few things to wrap up.

I have a strong feeling Skyler’s not going to survive this season. I don’t know what her undoing is — I really love your Ricin cigarette idea, especially because I never really understood why Walt saved the damn thing in the first place (couldn’t he just make another?) — but the Denny’s scene in the premiere seemed telling, with Walt alone, looking longingly at his bacon, arranging it in the manner his wife had for so many years.

As for Jesse, I’ve read some suggestions that the watch he gave Walt either has a bomb planted in it or a tracker. It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Jesse seemed to go out of his way (not in the usual sense) to give that gift to Walt. And you’re right, Jesse simply has been too low-key for the last four episodes. Something has to give.

I don’t think Mike wants this business. Mike wants out. He understands how much shit can pile up, and let’s also remember that he was ready to fly the coop until his nest egg cracked. Mike’s goal, in my opinion: settle his debts, make some money, and get rid of Walt.

He is a cancer after all.

Illustration by Mary Grace Ewald

Season 5, Episode 3- Hazard Pay

“He handles the business. And I handle him.”- Walter White

Running a business isn’t an easy thing to do. Never mind a business “big enough that it could be listed on the Fortune 500.” And yet, that’s just the predicament Walter, Jesse and Mike find themselves in, and it’s the crux of another entry in what is easily Breaking Bad‘s strongest season yet (which is saying something). Putting this business back together starts with Mike’s visit to Dennis, the former manager of the laundromat. Mike, posing as a paralegal, guarantees Dennis that he, and by extension, all the rest of the names on Lydia’s list will get all the money that’s owed to them. Which explains why Mike has decided to enter into business with Walt again.

A business which gets its start, fittingly, in Saul Goodman’s office, where Mike meets up with Jesse, Walt and a protesting Saul. The first major sequence is Saul taking his three clients on a tour of possible lab venues, including Danny’s Lazer Tag, which Walt and Jesse reject immediately (it’s fun to imagine what, exactly, Mike thinks this place is. So strange that barely a season ago, Jesse was hiding in this place while Mike was trying to kill him). Eventually, they check out a small warehouse belonging to a local extermination company (Vamonos Pest), and while there, Walt comes up with an idea. They’re going to hire this extermination company and use the cover provided by their bug bombing to conduct a quick, efficient cook. In the client’s homes. The only catch is that they’ll have to take their lab equipment with them, which is a small catch in the face of becoming almost completely untraceable.

With the help of Badger and Skinny Pete (who plays a wicked keyboard), they complete their cover, and almost immediately begin smooth production. Despite Mike’s warnings to never talk to Walt and Jesse unless spoken to (a move that draws a modicum of respect from Walt. Mike is nothing if not professional.), one of the exterminators, Todd (played by Friday Night Lights‘ Jesse Plemons) comes up to Walt and Jesse and lets them know that he disabled the nanny cam in the first house. Walt asks his name, obviously marking it down for future reference. A king always needs more pawns.

And what does Walt need pawns for? The upcoming power struggle with Mike, of course. After their first batch sells, the three new owners meet to divvy up their profit. Mike begins taking cuts from all three to cover the costs of operation. Drug mules, operation costs, Jesse’s cut for financing the setup (and also the mission they undertook to destroy Gus’ laptop). Through all these things, Walt is quiet, if visibly annoyed. But when Mike takes a slice to put towards his guys’ “hazard pay,” Walt loses it. He maintains that since buying the silence of these former members of the Fring Empire is a business decision, it should come solely out of Mike’s pay. Walt has no desire to adhere to any form of criminal honor or decency. He’s in the hole, sure, but it’s not like he isn’t making a profit from all this, a fact Jesse is all too eager to remind him of. They aren’t making as much as they did under Gus’ rule, but they’re the owners now. They get a bigger cut. Plus, they’re only cooking 1/4th as much as they did as Gus’ wage slaves. Jesse is content. Which isn’t where Walt wants him.

Earlier in the episode, after their first cook, Walt sneakily inquires about Brock and Andrea (whom he officially met at Jesse’s earlier). He suggests that if Jesse is unwilling to share the secrets of what he does for a living with Andrea, then their relationship is doomed to fail (which is true, except for the fact that he and Skyler have nothing that could be considered a working relationship). Jesse is visibly panicked, and after the money-splitting issue with Mike, Jesse informs his old mentor that he has broken things off with Andrea. Walt dismisses him. He never really cared anyway. He just wanted Jesse all too himself, because, as he tells Jesse, he now understands why Gus killed Victor. “He reached too close to the sun,” Walt says, referring to Victor’s attempt to cook the formula while they were under house arrest at the superlab.

Walt’s insidious use of the truth to manipulate those around him continues when, after Skyler blows up on her at the carwash, Marie confronts him (of course Marie just assumes that Skyler being upset couldn’t possibly have anything to do with her.). While playing the cuckolded husband card, Walt tells Marie about Skyler’s affair with Ted, and how his accident is to blame for her recurrent breakdowns. Marie buys it immediately, since this is too juicy a lead for her not to sniff out (and also possibly something for her to hold over Skyler’s head in a few episodes).

The quote for this episode, from Walt to Saul, comes early in the episode, after Mike’s assertion that the business side was entirely his jurisdiction. Does that division of labor sound familiar? It’s similar to the one Jesse and Walt made late in Season 1, one that Walt almost immediately fractured when he marched into Tuco’s hideout with a bad full of fulminated Mercury and a new haircut. The difference now is that when Walt first became Heisenberg, he did so as a way of protecting himself from the criminal underbelly that he’s now all too acquainted with. At this point, it’s less about escaping the chafing bonds of middle-class servitude as it an all-encompassing desire for more. More money. More power. More freedom. If Walter White met the Buddha on the road, he wouldn’t kill him. He would dominate him and use him as slave labor. I think’s it time we stop calling Walt an anti-hero.

Season 5, Episode 4- Fifty-One

“Nobody stops this train.”- Walter White

Upon a re-watch, this episode’s cold open serves as some of the most welcome comic relief sequences in the show’s history. Walt and Junior go to pick up his Aztek from the shop, where the lead mechanic spends most of his screen time telling Walt just how reliable his old car is (“she’s got nine lives, this car”). After a passing reference to the “gunk” they cleaned out of the fender (the Rival Dealers’ blood, which Walt told them was from a deer), Walt sells the mechanic his car for $50. He’s done being dependable. It’s time for him to buy a car befitting his status as kingpin. Notice how this differs from Gus’ Volvo. Hiding in plain sight, Walter is not. It’s like he doesn’t even think about how the man in charge of the task force made to find him is his own brother in law. Regardless, after a pitiful look from Junior as they pull up in their respective rides, they return to the dealership, and Walt buys another Challenger for him. The exact same model. Let’s see Skyler take this one away. Walter is in such a dominant position in the relationship that he’s almost Big Brother to Skyler. He dictates her reality. “Life is good, Skyler,” he tells her, and you can almost see her soul leaving her body.

On the business side of things, Jesse pays a visit to Lydia’s plant after Hank’s investigation forces her to give up her “guy.” As Jesse removes the soon to be ignored barrel of methylamine, she notices a tracking device on the bottom. Mike figures out what her game is soon enough. By trying to make it seem as if the DEA is tracking her shipments, Lydia hopes to give herself a reason to escape her dealings with Mike. It’s a bold strategy, and one that bodes well for her character, if not her future (“she’s dead). Mike’s remarks that he and Jesse are being sexist in simply disregard her as being crazy is an interesting one, since that seems to have been this show’s go to move in dealing with its female characters (Hank himself jokes that Marie isn’t exactly the picture of mental health). I hope Lydia sticks around a little more, what with her mismatched shoes and all.

The centerpiece of this episode is Walt’s birthday celebration. It’s been a year since he was diagnosed, and it’s fun to pick out the contrasts between his 50th birthday party and his 51st. When Skyler threw him a surprise party in the Pilot, he was nervous and unabashedly against the entire affair. This year? This year he seems to expect it, and is visibly disappointed when his birthday bash turns out to be just Hank and Marie coming over for dinner (of course, Marie almost immediately told Hank about Skyler’s infidelity. Walt’s glare at her when he realizes is priceless). During Walt’s grand speech about how much he’s had to go through, Skyler begins inching closer and closer to the family pool. After Hank and Marie notice (Walt’s back was turned to the whole thing, of course), Skyler jumps in and attempts to drown herself. The shot of her below the water is the first time all season she’s looked happy. She can’t hear Walt. But then, in a jarring shot, he appears behind her below the water. One does not simply escape from Heisenberg.

One thing to notice is Hank’s reactions to all this. Before Walter Junior leaves (just in time, because Junior seeing just how desperate his mother is might be enough to sway him to her side. He’s not ignorant about his father. He just chooses to ignore it), Hank makes a quick joke about his nephew being “a millionaire.” He’s just been promoted to replace Merkert as ASAC of the the New Mexico office. He will no longer be in charge of the Fring investigation. Most reviewers have thought that he’ll find a way to continue it regardless. I think he’s going to find himself with ample opportunity to begin a new investigation. One into his brother in law. It has to be happening soon. There’s no way this show isn’t going to ignite that particular fire.

After Marie puts Skyler to bed, she and Hank corner Walt into letting Skyler get treatment, and offer to watch Junior and Holly for a few days. After they leave, he confronts Skyler, dropping the doting husband facade and practically chasing her around the bedroom. He calls her on all her attempts to get the kids away from the house, stating that there is nowhere safer for them to be. Gus Fring was the danger. “I thought you were the danger,” she retorts, and suddenly, Walt isn’t dealing with a comatose shell of a woman: Skyler has decided to fight back. Much like Walter himself did when he broke into the house in Season 3, Skyler has decided to stop being dominated in the War of the Whites. Unlike Walt, Skyler’s methods are much more patient. After Walt shoots down every one of her possible escape plans, she admits that she doesn’t have his “magic,” the magic that allows him to weasel his way out of everything. Skyler has no illusions of innocence, which is refreshing for her, considering nearly her entire run on this show has dealt with her rejecting just how bad things have gotten, either with Walt and with her own dealings with Ted. Walter has a new enemy to deal with (to go along with Hank, the enemy he doesn’t even regard as a threat), and this enemy is content simply with waiting. She says so herself. When Walt asks her what she could possibly be waiting for, she chillingly responds “for the cancer to come back.” Walt stops in his tracks. The show has been building to this for awhile, and as we saw in the flashforward that started this season, it’s a eventuality that the show hasn’t forgotten about. Walt was taking that pills in a Denny’s bathroom for a reason. Right now, he’s on top. He won. But the cancer that, a year ago, started all of this, is still lying in wait.

As he sits and listens to Jesse and Mike argue about what to do with Lydia, Walt has his trademark hat, which he recovered from the Aztek before selling it. When he found it then, he immediately put it on, in public. In front of his son. It’s not like anyone could do anything about it. But while he fiddles with the hat, he finds a loose strand. And as he lays down to sleep in the bed his wife is powerless to keep him out of, the watch Jesse got him for his birthday is ticking. Fifty. Fifty-one. Fifty-two. I don’t think he’s going to reach fifty-three. The clock is ticking, Walter.

Illustration by @maddisonbond

After the release of his most recent album “Life Is Good”, I did something groundbreaking: I played Nas’s discography from the end back to the start. And than a question came to me: how does an artist’s career unfold when his debut is regarded (almost) unanimously as the best album of all time in your genre?

It’s a question that after nearly 20 years is still hard to tackle, if only because it’s still hard for most to let go of the fact that Illmatic was an achievement that should be viewed isolated from the rest of Nas’s catalog, which is underrated if only because it is upheld against him as a benchmark to his debut.

It’s the cruel punishment of peaking too soon, or just simply for being the best.

This whole analysis of Nas’s career means a lot to me, if only because mid to late 1990s East Coast hip hop was my introduction into the genre — and it’s something I still hang onto today. I could care less about keeping up with new music, or knowing the lyrics to your favorite club song. It seems people just keep up with music now to be relevant in some ways. I don’t want to veer too far off and sound anti-establishment or what not — I already went through that phase when I thought swearing by Rawkus Records was some sort of declaration — I’m simply anti-poor quality.

That particular era is difficult to define, but whether it’s Pun’s “Capital Punishment”, all of Cappadonna’s guest verses on Ghostface’s debut album, those violins at the start of John Blaze, Nature spitting natural disaster rap at the start of “Banned From TV”, or that Made Men collaboration with The LOX from the Belly Soundtrack, that’s my daily rotation on the iPod.

You have to hold onto something I suppose.

The most fascinating rapper from that era for me has to be Nas.

I didn’t first hear about him from “Live At The BBQ”, I don’t think I was even in North America at that age. It was about the time when The Firm came out that I was exposed to him, and his Queensbridge counterparts whom he would later destroy and rebuild.

But seriously, I was more fascinating by “Five Minutes To Flush” than anything Nas did on that album.

I don’t have to hold onto that thought I suppose.

But once I got more familiar with Nas’s body of work, I realized that this genre of music, which was still a blank canvas to me, could be so much more. Listening to “New York State Of Mind” for the first time, I didn’t need no message board thread to tell me that I was listening to the apex of hip hop. He was going to work, painting all our canvas full, raising the bar for what music should be about.

Turns out he raised it a bit too high.

A year or so after, Nas was coming off “It Was Written” — heavily criticized because it wasn’t Illmatic (a recurring theme in Nas’s career, especially the first decade after his debut), and was planning a double album titled “I Am…Nastradamus”.

I still remember when a version of it leaked really early, the one with a handful of tracks that ended up on Lost Tapes.

If we thought “Street Dreams” and “If I Ruled The World” signaled a change in Nas’s music, this bootleg set off all alarms.

Eventually, the project was split into two albums, more profitably or what not. Think Kill Bill split into two. Same reasons.

“I Am…” was an uneven output from Nas, although when he decides to just dial it back and make a “Nas Is Like” (also, “New York State Of Mind Part. II is so underrated, especially that first verse, the end of that first verse), it makes him that much more polarizing.

Why doesn’t he just make 12 of those and call it a day? Why does he insist on working with Ginuwine, Timbaland and do songs like Dr. Knockboots (experimenting has never really served Nas right, remember “Who Killed It?”) ?

We projected all our expectations, however unrealistic and rigid onto Nas, all very unfairly I might add.

I only realize it now, but I fell into that crowd that concluded that Nas was going in the wrong direction with his music. But who as listeners are we to hold back someone from growing, from experimenting, from shifting their subject matter and persona? It was a crime for Nas to be a rapper in transition. The only crime I think he was guilty of was not being very good crossing over.

Or I just read one too many message board threads.

Of course, no discussion about Nas’s career is complete without the mention of Jay-Z, and Biggie to some extent (it’s a requirement I think).

If BIG was the street rapper who crossed over and became a huge star (Jay did the same over a larger platform subsequent), Jay came in the game, brought his own street edge and bravado with Reasonable Doubt and grew beyond just a rapper (see: businessman vs. business, man) into an entity, a brand so large that you forget he probably has as many flawed albums as Nas (Jay: I can divide too).

To summarize, BIG was what Nas could never be. Jay is who Nas wanted to be.

But Nas as himself is probably better than the two.

If so, than why does Nas’s career seems so underwhelming in retrospect. Why is he in so many ways considered a failure, a letdown?

He’s only been rapping for almost 20 years and still few rappers can stand next to him lyrically.

We might not have a fully formed view on this until he’s gone, it’s how things work. Appreciation comes after, criticism is all that exists in the present.

But we can make educated guesses.

His beef with Jay-Z was the perfect scenario in that it allowed Nas to regain his “street cred” from his fanbase. The rapper who outgrew the genre was getting took by the rapper who we always knew was the best.

Understatement: Ether was the most important record of Nas’s career.

And with his epic intro on Stillmatic, this was a sort of a Second Coming (great song by the way, one of his many from his “unreleased” catalog) for Nas. The album name (and cover) was a bold choice. Here was Nas, almost recognizing and mocking a desire to return to his Illmatic roots.

But in putting out such a competent, mostly street record in a completely different era separate from Illmatic, Nas changed the conversation and introduced this possibility: maybe there just won’t ever be another Illmatic.

It was as if this was a thought that we never ventured to entertain before this. That he must deliver a replication of his debut at least once more.

But with this change in mindset, I felt that Nas (and myself, and many fans) were finally able to or allow themselves to distance their assessment of Nas from just his debut. He was allowed to carve out another phase to his career that could work in conjunction.

His subsequent work were all above average to great. I felt both a return to his original sound and a realization of how to adapt and change as a rapper without going to extremes and making records that seemed downright uncomfortable or uninspiring (usually both).

And there’s this: trace a musician’s career through albums, and you’re bound to find criticism that overshadows their brilliance. Is this not why blogs exist? We function to point out what we don’t like, the opposite just seems to mean we’re falling in line with some mundane belief.

But in all fairness, you’re going to have to talk about Deja Vu, Silent Murder, The Foulness and all of Nas’s b-sides and unreleased records if you want to start matching discographys.

Only rappers recently brought back in hologram form can hold a candle to Nas when it comes to quantity.

Quality wise? You act like he ain’t got a belt in two classes.

All of this brings me to the release of “Life Is Good”. 20 years ago, he was a child. 10 years ago, he wore an orange valor suit with his hat cocked to the side. Today, he sits with his ex-wife’s wedding gown on his couch. If you want checkpoints, those three album cover images is a pretty simple way to get a synopsis.

This is a rapper that’s still rhyming with the same vigor and visceral precision like when he first entered.

You mean “Locomotive” isn’t a lost track from the Illmatic sessions?

At the end of the track, Nas dedicates the song to “my trapped in the 90s n*ggas”.

That’s me.

That’s us.

It’s a homage to the old days.

It’s something I still hang onto, and something that Nas is still well aware of.

And he’s still making music that reminds us of those times.

It’s not too late to appreciate him for that, and everything else he’s done for two decades.

Illustration by @maddisonbond

If Digital Refrain is where pop culture meets genius, then we’re going to need to talk about Ai Weiwei.

The controversial Chinese artist and activist is many things, but there’s one quality that binds all of his interests and his passion: he is a creator.

To the mainstream, he is best known for his help in designing the Beijing National Stadium, better known as The Bird’s Nest that was the hub of the 2008 Summer Olympics. But where most people would consider a world renowned stadium to be the highest of accomplishments, it likely wouldn’t even rank too high on Weiwei’s list if you consider his artistic side to be a medium where he best expresses his creativity and provides a message all at once.

The more introspective, and conversation-generating pieces include a series of photographs of him dropping a Han Dynasty urn or the companion to that: painting logos on them. There’s his Sunflower Seeds installation at Tate Modern in London in 2010. Simplistic in its presentation, the one hundred million sunflower seeds were in fact all painted in a small town in China by over 1,500 artisans. To those that appreciate art, it is a massive project. Look a little deeper, it’s Weiwei’s way of communicating his long standing views on consumerism, famine, elitism and the dangers of tradition and unwillingness to change.

Ask any person who’s appreciated and interpreted Weiwei’s work, their opinions will differ; not a dispute over his genius, but rather the message that it sends. But it’s clear: his art stimulates and creates conversation. They’re not conclusive, but they inspire you to want to understand how that conclusion may have come about.

The need to create and the need to provoke change might’ve started at an early age for Weiwei. His father Ai Qing was a famous Chinese poet, but was denounced by the government in the 1950s during the Anti-Rightist movement and exiled for 20 years as a farm laborer.

Weiwei also spent sometime in the 1980s in New York, his photographs during his stint have been collected by the Asia Society Museum in New York.

He once said, “The New York I knew no longer exists. Looking back in the past, I can see that these photographs are facts, but not necessarily true. The present always surpasses the past, and the future will not care about today.”

Can a phrase be art? Can a man’s words carry more meaning that it’s meant to?

Read about Weiwei long enough, you start to question these things too.

Filmmaker Alyson Klayman sought out these answers in a wonderful documentary released earlier this year titled “Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry”. The moments we as viewers get to spend with Weiwei in his secluded home and art studio gives us a glimpse into a man that seems, in a surprising twist, vulnerable.

His art and his views are surely not shy. He never even used a computer before 2005, but since doing so, became one of the most read bloggers in the world, and cultivated a large following on Twitter (his pronunciation of the social network’s name in the movie is a hidden gem) which he’s used to continue to exert his influence and spread his message.

But when he discusses his art, he claims that “I’m not sure I’m good at it, but I find an escape in it. This is one way you can release yourself.”

He doesn’t consider himself brave, but he communicates and makes himself available and accessible so that people are always aware of where he is. Because that matters when you develop your own unique voice in China, you can only go rogue for so long until they bring you in.

And Weiwei was no exception. His Shanghai art studio was demolished by the government, and he disappeared for 81 days during a jail stint for some unpaid taxes, or so the story goes.

This is where the movie leaves off. He returns, but can he still be the same? You can be strong, you can inspire, you can be the creator of art, of conversation, of change, of everything; but if all of that is suppressed within, where’s the escape for Weiwei? Where will he find his release?

This is just a small portrait of who Weiwei is. I could go on about his other projects, specifically his work with the Sichuan earthquake disaster, to illustrate the point. But all of what he does and what he believes in are consistently represented in all of his creations.

And so perhaps the one thing we owe him is to create something ourselves: the awareness of Weiwei’s story, and an appreciation for a man who claims to fear, yet acts with only purpose, and no regard for the circumstances that he is bound to face.