I knew this "national H1N1 emergency" stuff was for real when I saw a dude riding a bicycle through Harrisburg this morning with a white surgical mask on. (The Michael Jackson mourning period's over, right?) Yikes!

Ukrainian sand artist is so amazingly talented that no exposition's really necessary. Just click here. Try not to gape. HT: Sanjeevani Wijenaike Silva

You know, I love the idea that the entire overarching conceit of "River of Brakelights" appears to be Julian Casablancas getting, just, way, way too into spinning the actuality of bonkers NYC traffic into some quasi-poetic, philosophical/omniscient treatise about Darwinian societal ratraces and urban sprawl, to the extent that he unknowingly exasperates whoever's supposed to be squiring him back from whatever party they're trying to escape, and that person just up and bolts while Casablancas is obliviously belting out this rhythmically-exacting observational epic on a Brooklyn (or Williamsburg, maybe) street corner, I guess. And then at the end of the song, Julian's all "Where did you go? You were my ride home!" Sometimes you've just gotta know when to shut up.

ILL UTENSIL TANGENT: WE LOVE SPORKS, AND WE DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS

Please: stop whatever it is you're doing, and download the live Lotus Plaza track you can find after clicking here, which is about 58.98% better than everything else he's done and maybe 20% better than whatever it is you're listening to right now. For real. I mean, just some seriously tender, string-section drrrrrrrrrrrrrone that goes from mournful to autumnal to blissed to avant-limbo.

ILL PRIORITIES: Eight Things That New Nobel Peace Prize Winner Barack Obama Should Do Today

By RAYMOND CUMMINGS

1. Climb to the White House roof and let loose with one of those intense air-punching fits that sports fans unleash when their teams reach the playoffs. Also: shout "YESSSS!" a couple times.

2. If they're in or near the capitol today, exchange a high-five or Revolutionary drug brothers handshake with Al Gore, and give Bono a nuggie.

3. Treat Michelle to a night out on the town. She's a good woman who doesn't get out much.

4. Figure out where, exactly, to display the Nobel medal: mounted on the Oval Office desk? Over the headboard? In the Air Force One commode? Or would it make more sense to have several replicas made for display in each of those locations, then stash the actual medal somewhere else?

5. Rush order a replacement for that Swiss Army Knife he lost back in junior high.

6. Leave Jay-Z a voicemail: "Eleven number one records is quite an accomplishment, but, you know, I just won a Nobel Prize today."

7. Treat himself to at least two or three Kit-Kat bars.

8. Drop a couple crisp new Hamiltons on lottery tickets, because, hey, you never know.