What's the opposite of goosebumps? Abscesses? The feeling that your skin is collapsing in on itself? Whatever it is, I felt it watching Will.i.am's stirring finale performance at the Grammys last night.

After experiencing the pure, distilled emotions of that simple motivational dirge, "Yes We Can," I didn't think that I could be moved like that again. After all, how many times is a person inspired, truly inspired to non-humps-or-lumps-related action by a Will.i.am song? But I underestimated the rousing power of that particular Black Eyed Pea. He's just a simple man, with a hat and a penchant for rhyming words with themselves, but his words worm their way into your mind, awakening your resolve; his rhymes take root in your heart where they burst into flowers of motivation. After watching Will.i.am's Grammy medley last night, I was inspired to make a change. Basically, if this is considered music, I never want to hear music again—and I will do everything in my power to make it stop.


At the very least, I never want to watch the Grammys stumble towards relevancy again.

Also, of what subject is Will.i.am a professor? Sad Jukebox Studies?