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'Goon' screenwriter and hockey enthusiast Jay Baruchel shares his list of the best tunes to rage along to.

Yep, that's about it: An arrested Canadian man protested his incarceration by singing the entirety of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" from the back of the police car he was sitting in, providing the appropriate a cappella instrumentation. He doesn't miss a lyric, either, which more than makes up for his off-key rendition. Thanks to Spinner for this one.

I haven’t paid much attention to Adam Lambert since, well ever. But when news broke that he of eyeliner and dramatic haridos was going to be the new frontman for Queen for an upcoming tour you sort of have to take notice.  Reported by everyone from Rolling Stone to MTV to local papers and just about every website around, it’s just not true.

So yesterday, after news broke of the King of Pop’s passing, I turned to my 8-year-old cousin and asked if she knew who Michael Jackson was. She looked at me wide-eyed, confused for a brief moment, then flatly said, "No." I probably would have been more disturbed if she had answered, “Miley Cyrus," when I later asked her who her favorite singer was. But regardless, I was still a little unnerved. Jackson’s death signals the end of an era of icons as we know it. Or rather, the beginning of such an end. My little cousin's growing up in a very just-add-water age of pop commodities, where she'll never be able to cover her walls with the posters of girl groups and boy bands without being pressured to do so by American Idol, Nickelodeon, or the Disney Channel. Gone is Michael Jackson's moonwalk, Freddie Mercury's bad-ass aplomb, and even En Vogue's inimitable moxie. And I'm concerned. Not only for her, but for generations that'll come after -- and not know a world populated with bonafide idols and icons. It's safe to say that yes, with the King's death, America is now not only in mourning, but also in crisis.

The perfect consolation prize for an effete American Idol finalist with a propensity for garish eye make-up, but who's considered too outlandish for the Bible Belt's dial-tone affection? A gig as Queen's next Freddie Mercury! Cringe! It's one thing to condemn him to fringey fate belting out Kylie Minogue standards, but another, obviously stupid thing to corner him into a position which will find him flaying "Bohemian Rhapsody" like he brutalized Johnny Cash. And while the bar's been set intimidatingly high for all such covers, a motley of barrel-bottom blunders promises that, maybe, just maybe, Lambert can't break what's already been broken countless times over.