Of course, I have no business weighing in against "sad bastard" music; I've been guilty of more than my share of wallowing. My favorite song for the past half year, as you may remember, has been David Bowie's "Survive." I was listening to it the other day when I realized why I love it so much; the chorus isn't a defiant "I will survive," but rather a resigned "I'll survive," as if at the realization that one is perfectly capable of enduring for an entire lifetime without (insert name here). Or, as I once said to a girl at the end of an melancholy evening: "Well, off to live the rest of my life!"

Where did I put the 8 Mile soundtrack again?