In the past 5 years Bob Dylan's grizzled appearance and/or nasal-gravel voice has played an essential role in ads for Cadillac, Apple, Bank of Montreal, and Victoria's Secret. In 1965 Dylan proved, by going electric and breaking the hearts of thousand of idealistic acoustic folk-rockers, that he would not fit into a classic counter culture mold. That same year, when asked what might tempt him to sell-out, Dylan famously replied "women's undergarments" (no mention at the time of luxury SUV's, ubiquitous mp3 players, or the Bank of Montreal).

Apart from a good way to insure his great-grandchildren's college education, Dylan's selling out seems to reiterate his independence and unpredictability - reminding the world that he is still the man of many masks - the ultimate liminal creature. The world, it seems, remembers - something about the original freewheeler still speaks to us (Dylan's ultra-skinny hipster look is all the rage in Williamsburg and for male runway models).

Dylan is another. In Todd Haynes film "I'm not there," Dylan is literally six others - as the film splinters into six separate characters just to dance around portions of Dylan's life. His appeal is that of a jokester prophet. We love him because we can't pin him down and his words ("the times they are a-changin" for example) continue to profoundly resonate.