John Sylvia reads his chapter "All the Argument We need," in which he discusses the highly effective political argumentation lurking within the video for Radiohead's song, "All I Need."

George Reisch reads his chapter "Is Radiohead the Pink Floyd of the 21st Century?"--the introductory chapter to Radiohead and Philosophy: Fitter Happier More Deductive. The answer, Reisch argues, is "no." While neither Radiohead nor classic Pink Floyd should be understood as "space rock," there remain enormous cultural and philosophical differences between these two bands.

Radiohead's revolutionary pay-what-you-want album. By breaking all the rules, is Radiohead making new rules for the music marketplace and culture industry?

Alf Rehn reads his chapter entitled "Wittgenstein's iPod, or, The Familiar among Us." He explores the nature of iPod-ness, a concept that may prove to be elusive, and speculates on the contents of Wittgenstein's iPod.

Regina Arnold reads her chapter in iPod and Philosophy, entitled "Podcrastination." She asks the provocative question, Are iPods agents of social change, or agents of repression? Are they going to free our minds, or just chain us to our seats?

Enjoy bonus content to the book Battlestar Galactica: Mission Accomplished or Mission Frakked Up? that is available nowhere else. In this episode, Thomas Fahy reads his thought-provoking essay "By Your Command."

In this delightful essay, Auxier draws parallels between the Wendy in Springsteen's songs, Wendy from J. M. Barrie's "Peter Pan," and the imaginative archetype behind these Wendys. He also explains why the "everlasting kiss" is a magical thing and where in "Born to Run" you can locate Tinkerbell.

Available here for the first time ever: bonus content not available in the book _Battlestar Galactica and Philosophy_. Caroline Ruddell explores the difference between humans and their near-identical Cylon skinjob counterparts.

Was Johnny Rotten right to wear a t-shirt proclaiming I Hate Pink Floyd? We say no. Listen as George Reisch defends Pink Floyd, arguing that they rose above the vacuous corporate rock of the 70s and avoided selling out.

The "Mexican Standoff," in which two or more people have weapons (usually guns) pointed at one another, is common occurence in most Quentin Tarantino films. This is essentially a philosophical paradox called a prisoner's dilemma. In Tarantino territory, is there a solution to this perplexing puzzle?