Frustrated (again) with not being able to post those types of things here, I started a supplemental blog on Blogger, for those things which are incompatible with WordPress.

You can see that blog at http://enmpartdeux.blogspot.com and the video in question at http://enmpartdeux.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-gonna-sue-you-like-your-mother-didnt.html

The video involves a crazy Uzi-wielding naked guy who claims to be from the future, where there is allegedly a war between the computers and the humans and the dogs and the cats.  It's definitely worth a watch, because I laugh every time I think about it.  :-)

The punchline from that video, listed as the title of this entry, is something I can actually picture a lot of people online not only saying, but saying in the crazy nudist's voice.

In fact, just yesterday I got an email from a crazy libertarian so desperate for attention that he wrote his own Wikipedia page in which he regales us with fascinating information, such as that he mowed lawns at age 12, and was on his high school debate team ... oh yeah, and he wants to build his own island out of trash so he can be his own government, LOL.  A while back, that same guy started frothing at the mouth and threatening to sue me, for reasons which were every bit as ludicrous as the crazy naked guy's reasons for suing the deputies on Reno 911, LOL.  Thinking back on it when I heard from him again is what reminded me of of the "crazy Uzi-wielding nudist from the future" episode.  The truth is, I can actually picture this lunatic acting like that.

It was impossible to feel intimidated by his threat, though, even if he did plan to sue me like my mother didn't know.  ;-)

This song is dedicated to someone special. You know who you are. Shine on you crazy diamond!

Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun
Shine on you crazy diamond
Now theres a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky
Shine on you crazy diamond
You were caught on the crossfire of childhood and stardom,
Blown on the steel breeze
Come on you target for faraway laughter, come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon
Shine on you crazy diamond
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light
Shine on you crazy diamond
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision, rode on the
steel breeze
Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

Did the internet just cause Sarah Palin to destroy evidence? The potential Veep is in a bit of trouble for conducting state business using her personal, unarchived email address (gov.sarah@yahoo.com) instead of her official account (which is, of course, subject to laws requiring the retention of government records). Emails from that Yahoo account are already being sought in connection with the Troopergate investigation. Now comes word that Anonymous, the fun-loving Internet trouble-makers based loosely around the message board 4Chan, gained access to another Palin email account: gov.palin@yahoo.com. It looks legit! The offending posts, screenshots, heretofore unseen family photos, and emails have all been deleted from Imageshack and 4Chan. But we have them. You want to read Sarah Palin's email?

Ok, sad thing first: a good Samaritan reset the password and tried to alert Sarah. But he also posted the new password, causing multiple people to try to log in at once, freezing the account for 24 hours. And now, the account has been deleted! Which is, as we said, maybe destruction of evidence? So for now this is, we think, all we'll get to see from this email account (if anyone finds evidence of saved emails, let us know.)

View the the rest of the article, including screenshots and other information, on Gawker.

De carácter tranquilo y reservado, no llegó nunca a alcanzar las cotas de protagonismo de otros miembros del grupo como David Gilmour o Roger Waters, sin embargo, participó activamente en la composición de los primeros trabajos de la banda, destacando por encima del resto los temas “Great Gig in the Sky” y “Us and Them”, y muy especialmente, “Shine on You Crazy Diamond”, quizá una de las mejores canciones de rock de todos los tiempos.

Tras la grabación del álbum The Wall, en 1979, sus diferencias con Waters provocaron su salida de la formación, a la que regresaría unos años después para colaborar en el disco A Momentary Lapse of Reason, y ya como miebro de pleno derecho, en el siguiente trabajo de la banda The Division Bell, en el que incluso firmó algunos temas.

En solitario, Wright fundó el grupo Zee en 1984, publicando un solo trabajo: Identity. En solitario, había publicado el álbum Wet Dreams, en 1974, y Broken China en 1996. En los ultimos años, había colaborado en la gira de David Gilmour On an Island.

Descanse en paz.

For me those two bands are The Who and Pink Floyd.

While listening to “My Generation” this morning, a collectuion of The Who’s greatest hits, I settled in to the train to read the paper ( don’t worry, it wasn’t on time, I just left later, I wouldn’t want you to think service was improving…) and as I hit the end of the Business section I read of the death of Richard Wright, the keyboard player for Pink Floyd. According to the Globe – “Wright died after a short battle with cancer at the age of 65”.

I don’t remember listening to Pink Floyd with any regularity in high school, and I am pretty sure my introduction to the band was from “ The Wall”, both in film and soundtrack upon arriving at college. A trip to Hartford in the fall of my freshman year to see Floyd live at the Hartford Civic Center was a music appreciation altering experience. While I knew this was a post Roger Waters, post Syd Barrett rendition of the band I was listening to in heavy rotation, it didn’t matter.  A 17 minute opening of “Shine on Your Crazy Diamond was enough to hook me, and after the return drive from Hartford I spent months listening to a variety of Floyd albums and for some strange reason settled onto the “Final Cut” as my album of choice.

“The Final Cut” was the base work of one of my favorite classes from college, a class called “Metaphors” taught by a post grad in which we explored the meanings, and messages behind a variety of books, symbols, and artwork. My professor allowed me to write my final paper on the Floyd album, and it was probably at the time the biggest academic challenge of my career. A challenge because she forced me to try to figure out what I was trying to say in a way that told a story, accurately, fully, and with some flourish.

Richard Wright won’t go down as the most memorable Floyd member, the arguments will be over the initial genius and charismatic Syd Barrett, the moody but divisive Roger Waters, or the quiet but artful longevity of David Gilmour.

Wright, like drummer Nick Mason, isn’t seen as a lead in the epic battles over the Floyd name, but Mason and Wright in many ways the steady backbone of the various versions of Floyd over time, the Barrett years, the Water/Gilmour struggle, and the post Waters revision of Floyd that I was fortunate enough to experience a few times.

But if you listen to Floyd albums his influence is evident, from his work on Dark Side of the Moon to Wish You Were Here and even the die hard junkie Mason- Wright collaborations that I bought, listened to and discarded, Wrights organ, piano, and synth were often the catalyst for a Gilmour solo, or set the table for songs such as “Us and Them” and “Shine on You Crazy Diamond”.

Thanks Rick.

So with the haunted-house shuffle weirdness of "Remember a Day" playing now, as deft a garage/psych number from the late sixties as any of the more famous ones out there -- and Wright's piano work providing both an elegance and an isolated feeling not often heard on such pieces, his soft vocals emerging from one speaker and then another, some reflections.

Earlier this year Norman Smith, the EMI studio legend who signed and produced Pink Floyd on their earliest efforts during the Syd Barrett years, passed on, and my blog post on him contains my memories on when and where I first got into Pink Floyd, so I won't repeat myself there. I suppose I didn't have any expectation that I would be writing about the passing of anyone else involved with that band any time soon, much less one of its members, but then again, after the passing of Barrett himself the other year, it shouldn't be so surprising, this news that we heard today.

My immediate thought lay in the unfairness of it. Death is of course unfair, but that's well trodden ground. But you listen to some of these other Wright-led songs from Pink Floyd -- "Paintbox" and its gentle but not hamhanded jollity, the swooping grandeur of "It Would Be So Nice," guitars not so much played as somehow inflating and deflating, like massive walls of electronic accordions, again his gentle vocals shifting from music-hall-tinged singalongs somewhere between the Kinks, the Beach Boys and Queen at their most vaudeville to aspirational reach -- and you think to yourself, "Wait, maybe this was what XTC was really trying to be all along in the end. Definitely seems like this is what Captain Sensible was trying for on his songs with the Damned." There's an unfairness in this not immediately being apparent to others, or even yourself.

But that's also the unfairness conditioned by the luxury of caring about this kind of stuff in the first place. The real unfairness is the kind you can relate to on a gut level -- the one where someone who had been through it all (whatever it might be...a project, a job, a mission, a friendship) and had put up with a lot of stuff knowing that there were many better things one could do for oneself, but feeling that something good was still possible, found themselves completely shut out in the end. By the time of Roger Waters' complete transformation into an obsessed psychodramatic musical architect, Wright must have known he was surplus to requirements -- it's no surprise he left after The Wall, no longer content to be a whipping boy and dumping ground. And when he returned, he found himself in the curious position of being central but to the side -- Pink Floyd's revival as a going concern was a bit like how Kiss reconstituted itself, with the division between the rights-holders and the returning veterans. I still remember wondering why it was that he wasn't featured as a core bandmember in the liner notes for A Momentary Lapse of Reason, why he was filmed separately for MTV promo bits for the tour the following year. Even without Waters around it seemed like there was still something in the air.

Eventually he was fully back in the fold with The Division Bell -- the only Pink Floyd album I've never actually heard, strangely (or not so strangely?) enough -- performed with everyone, even Waters, at Live 8, helping steal the show just on the basis of being part of one of the few bands who had figured out how to perform at arena-scaled levels, then standing in for Barrett at the memorial service for the dead singer on "Arnold Layne." And then, quietly, undemonstratively, telling few aside from his family and those closest to him, he faced a situation that was in fact entirely the opposite from one detailed in one part of the song "Dogs" from Animals -- entirely the opposite aside from the final three words:

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder.
You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you
get older.
And in the end you'll pack up and fly down south,
Hide your head in the sand,
Just another sad old man,
All alone and dying of cancer.

The comparison may seem jarring -- again, I emphasize this wasn't Wright's general situation by any means, this lyrical portrait of realization of solitary fear and pointless flight, that there's no escaping the end, no matter how much of a badass you think you are in life. If anything these would be the words that Waters may want to etch on his own mirror instead.

Yet thinking about Pink Floyd today I realize how sharply -- and sweetly -- they grappled with the Big Issues, the kind of things that readily captivate the kind of self-regarding mindset that late adolescence often allows one to indulge in if one is fortunate enough to have that space and time to do so (and by no means do all do). At their best, when Pink Floyd sang about death, loss and the end, it's no surprise to me that when they let David Gilmour or Wright come to the fore instead of Waters' strident, hectoring singing that they were able to shape his words into a more elegant presentation, sonically and musically.

A diversion, just a paragraph -- it is interesting from so much distance now to see how the canon of 'classic rock' as such was welded together from so many disparate sources, smushed into a freeze-dried endless experience that presupposed something like it was always permanent and never-changing, though it was an endless jury-rig. As a result hearing how Pink Floyd both was and wasn't something 'of its time' is enlightening. One friend recently compared them to Steely Dan, and the conceptual and sonic leap to connect the two makes more sense than simply bunching them together on an imagined FM playlist that doesn't end. Hearing their impact in time reappearing in darker and darker shadows -- Radiohead and Tool kept leaping to my mind today and it's no coincidence that I'm a huge fan of both, though I don't think I would have ever consciously identified my high school Floyd fandom as the root source -- makes more sense to me than simply thinking of 'rock blocks' and waiting for the DJ to spin "Stairway to Heaven" again.

To return to Wright in particular:

It's no surprise that Wright's most immediate fame comes from The Dark Side of the Moon, I suppose. The band's fame lies with it, the kind of acknowledgment of the past and dead weight that leaves Radiohead dealing with OK Computer still, to draw that comparison more clearly. If The Piper At the Gates of Dawn allows Wright more frenetic explosions and swirls, then by the time of The Dark Side he had not only changed his approach somewhat but readily embraced further developments in technology to expand his palette -- perhaps most obviously literalized on the sweeping progression of "Any Colour You Like," the instrumental song that initially feels like an interruption of the 'concept' but which in the end feels like a necessary freeing from it in terms of sonic lushness. The other examples are almost too easy to name -- his r'n'b keyboards on "Money," the hushed piano shaping the wordless gospel celebration of "The Great Gig in the Sky," and perhaps most affectingly "Us and Them," the kind of song that takes one of the most cliched sentiments in the universe -- 'war is hell' -- and, thanks to both Waters and Wright perfectly meshing on writing the song and Wright's harmonizing with Gilmour on the chorus, the whole is contemplative, sad but not sorrowful, a great sigh of regret at it all -- more Vonnegut than Joseph Heller, say -- makes it all greater than the sum of its parts, and Wright's full-on church organ introduction and backing, along with his piano, especially on the gorgeous instrumental break (during the 'short sharp shock' snippet), is just that much more crucial.

Then there's Wish You Were Here, the follow-up to that album, and Wright's own pinnacle of exploratory synth work as detailed and beautiful sonic universe creation, his contributions to "Shine On You Crazy Diamond," especially the extended drone and soft melody that begins the song and by extension the entire album, suggestive of lost moonscapes and mournful signals from who knows where. By this point in his career, as well as those many other musicians around the world who had pushed electronics and electronic keyboards from being strictly the province of obscure experimentalists to popular music vernacular, he was not working on the frontiers, but he was working with a now huge audience that was set to grow even further, and as Pashmina said on the ILM thread in honor of Wright today, "Intro to "Shine on you crazy diamond" was one of the primary things that got me into synthesisers & electronic music. For that alone, he was a star to me." That intro has had an interesting life -- just a few years later it served as a great setup in the third episode of the original Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy radio series. Where a wide variety of electronic music was featured throughout the series, the only time any of it was specifically mentioned was when Arthur Dent said in astonishment, referring to Marvin, "Do you realize that that robot can hum like Pink Floyd?" It fit in so perfectly, and so unselfconsciously, somehow, as a classic example of 'space' music that it could almost be heard as nothing else, almost as if it was written for the show and not as an initial fanfare for an extended tribute to a damaged friend.

Yet the album I wanted to hear most when I heard the news -- the one that's perhaps inevitably become a snob's choice, I realize, and yet it's almost certainly the one I've heard the most over time -- is Meddle, the last non-soundtrack album the group did before Dark Side, and which doesn't sound so much as the necessary prologue for that later record as, contextually, a new peak, a point of resolution for a band just four years on from its debut that had gone through a series of radical changes. I'd almost argue it was the first concentrated and stable album since Piper, actually -- the many releases between the two albums almost seemed like a collection of experiments, no bad thing at all but almost best heard as such, with many pinnacles. On Meddle, there were no symphonic collaborators, no splitting into various solo projects, no working out of the last throes of Barrett's time with the group, no films to follow -- just them and what they wanted to do on their own.

It would be wrong to call this Wright's album, it certainly doesn't start with him. But it is breathtaking to hear how his shuddering, nervous keyboards punctuate the opening "One of These Days," suddenly adding a fearsome twitch to Waters' doomy-as-hell bass crawl. And throughout the first five songs, the original first side of the vinyl release, you get to hear Wright try out all sorts of things, from the warm, rich tones he adds to the lovely "Fearless," further punctuated on the chorus by a gentle piano the Band would be proud of, to something arguably even more Band-like, the lazy blues keyboards on "Seamus," a bluesy near goof that gets away with it (and it too has its afterlife -- Tom Stoppard used it as the theme music for his film of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, dogs and all).

Then there's the sixth and final song, a full side long effort in the vinyl days, "Echoes" -- and more than anything else in the end, this may be Wright's tour de force, his song above all. As heard -- and if you ever catch Pink Floyd at Pompeii, and you should sometime, as seen -- Wright is the key to the start and the end, the opening note that signals the beginning -- an insistent sound, slowly repeated, stark and solitary before the rest of the band slowly joins in, Wright shifting to a rich synth glaze, a demi-drone rooted in the band's psychedelic merriment but now taking on an air both enveloping and almost threatening, soothing to silence. In the middle of the song, the band drops away again for the most part and it's nothing but free-form wails and textures, a jettisoning of 'rock' expectations in favor of something queasy and strange, pretty and poisonous. Then after a truly awe-inspiring return to the full band -- when Gilmour lets loose with the guitar part you can hear a couple of generations of power metal groups and post-punk fiends suddenly spark to life simultaneously -- it all ends on an endless rise of swelling sound, that opening note returning again and then disappearing deep into what almost sounds like the distorted, unnerving choral vocals from 2001 in miniature.

There's a great photo with Meddle, at least with the CD version I currently have, featuring the band in a posed shot somewhere on sand dunes in a vertical arrangement. Gilmour, at his most moodily monklike with his flowing hair and all-black clothes, stands in the background, Nick Mason wryly peeps over the crouching Waters, the latter squinting into the sun. Sitting comfortably on the ground, wearing jeans and a buttoned black shirt, a gentle smile on his face, Wright looks up and slightly away, squinting a bit as well, a massive flare of light coming from, presumably, a small mirror just next to his feet.

At least at that one moment in time, Wright seemed to be the one most fully enjoying himself and what he was able to be doing. A good way to remember him. RIP.

however, today, that dream died with richard william wright, 65.  rick was a founding member of arguably the greatest rock-n-roll band of all time.  he succumbed to his battle with cancer, but his contribution to the world of music will continue.  for more info on rick and his phenomenal career, please visit richard wright wiki.

insert cliche condolence...  shine on, you crazy diamond, rick!  wish you were here...  we're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl.  set the controls for the heart of the sun,  etc.

you'll be missed rick wright...

all that you touch
all that you see
all that you taste
all you feel.
all that you love
all that you hate
all you distrust
all you save.
all that you give
all that you deal
all that you buy,
beg, borrow or steal.
all you create
all you destroy
all that you do
all that you say.
all that you eat
and everyone you meet
all that you slight
and everyone you fight.
all that is now
all that is gone
all thats to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.

there is no dark side of the moon really.  matter of fact its all dark...

Richard Wright 28 Luglio 1943 - 15 Settembre 2008

The "Butt Bandit" smears his derriere with petroleum jelly and lotion, then leaves the imprint of his buttocks on windows all over the small town of Valentine, Nebraska.  He does the same thing with his genitals, usually leaving an impression of both wherever he goes.

The Butt Bandit has struck at businesses, schools, and even churches.  The cops have even had stakeouts, trying to catch him, but no dice.  And, he's been doing this for over a year, being caught on surveillance video only once.  As a result the police have only a very blurry photo, caught on surveillance at the local middle school.  He is described as about 6' tall, dark complexion, with what they describe as an "80s feathered hairstyle".

They may be having trouble finding him because feathered hair is actually a '70s hairstyle.  I even had feathered hair for a while in high school, so it's definitely a '70s style, but it was a major pain in the rear end to upkeep, so mine was long gone by the time the '80s rolled around.

Anyhoo, in a town with only 2500 residents, surely there aren't that many men there who look and act like they just walked off the set of "Boogie Nights".  Furthermore, cops could ask around at local salons since it's hardly a style in high demand these days, though it does require regular cuts to maintain the style.  Honestly, I suspect the cops are in no big hurry to catch him because one, it's a very low priority case since he's not really hurting anyone or permanently defacing property, and two (and more importantly), they secretly think it's funny and wish they had thought it up themselves.

It also seems that many Valentine residents see the humor in it, except - not at all surprisingly - those who are forced to clean the windows.  I guess I probably wouldn't find it very funny if I had to clean it up either, so those folks definitely have my sympathy.

In the meantime, I can't help but wonder if the Butt Bandit chose this particular hobby because of the name of the town.

Un guerrero de la luz jamás hace trampas; pero sabe distraer a su adversario.

Por mas ansioso que esté, juega con los recursos de la estrategia para alcanzar su objetivo. Cuando ve que se están acabandao sus fuerzas, hace que el enemigo piense que no tiene prisa. Cuando necesita atacar por la derecha, mueve sus tropas hacia el lado izquierdo. si pretende iniciar la lucha inmediatamente, finge tener sueño y se prepara para dormir.

Los amigos comentan: "Ved cómo ha perdido su entusiasmo". Pero él no hace caso de los comentarios, porque los amigos no conocen sus tácticas de combate.

Un guerrero de la luz sabe lo que quiere, y no necesita dar explicaciones.

My personal favorite line (by Stephen Colbert)

Libertarians believe it is my right to varnish in an unventilated room.

The following are comments left on the latest LFV exclusive regarding George Phillies having been contacted by an outside attorney, about a potential lawsuit brewing for New Hampshire.

Aaron Starr, LNC Treasurer:

This might be interesting if it were accurate.

However, the LNC has been informed on more than one occasion concerning the potential opportunity for a lawsuit in New Hampshire to establish for our party the permanent right for candidate substitution, so that we will not have this problem again in the future.

No lawsuit has been filed yet.

On May 22nd, during the LNC pre-convention meeting in Denver, staff presented in its report the possibility of our needing to sue in New Hampshire.

The report is included in the minutes. Members of the LNC board members who are purported to not know anything about this received copies of these minutes and voted for their approval.

In addition, in a cursory search of e-mails to the entire LNC, I was able to find a ballot access update dated June 29th that further discussed the legal situation in New Hampshire. There are probably other updates, should I care to look for them.

In the case of Bill Hall, our legal counsel, the LNC has been updated by him as recently as today as to the status of this potential litigation. Of course, attorney-client privilege issues prevent me from sharing the contents of this communique with anyone else.

Aaron Starr
Treasurer
Libertarian National Committee

Professor George Phillies, qualified NH LP presidential candidate and probable defendant in said not-yet-filed lawsuit:

Starr’s claims about the suit are disingenuous. There are indeed representations in the LNC Minutes and other places about discussing litigation as a possible alternative path in New Hampshire. There is no indication that an attorney had been retained or was going to be retained.

That’s entirely different from having an attorney, not Bill Hall, telephone interested parties to make statements rather more positive than discussing alternatives.

As an analogy, as late as 1936 the War Department updated its plans for war with Canada, a fact that Congress could have determined. South Park notwithstanding, telling Congress this minor fact did not constitute asking Congress to approve war with Canada.

There is no representation in those statements to the LNC about actually spending money to pay the attorney in question, seeking the LNC’s approval to spend money or discuss litigation with interested parties, or having the attorney discuss with affected parties while representing himself as the LNC’s attorney, which he assuredly would not have done if he had not been retained, whether for pay or pro bono.

I should point out that the sort of phone call that I heard might or might not already have led other interested parties to retain their own counsel.

As to whether the LNC is paying him for something, well, the most recent LNC FEC filing shows a large sum of money going in his direction, so there is no question that the LNC has already actually spent money, without notifying the LNC itself that that money is actually being spent.

Angela Keaton, LNC At-Large Representative:

A.) What is the proper LNC procedure in the initiation of a lawsuit? Does a mention of the possibility of such in a staff report released between LNC meetings constitute proper notice to the board? Do Haugh and Kraus have the authority to initiate a law suit without putting it to a vote of the entire LNC? If Redpath has the sole authority, what is the fiduciary duty with regard to financial priorities during severe shortfalls?

B.) Is the suit a political payback stemming from a confrontation between Carling/Karlan/Sundwall and Macia and Phillies/McMahon at the LPNY ‘07 convention? Did that confrontation result as of Carling overstepping what was agreed upon by members of the LNC? Is it a relevant fact that M Carling proposed to strip George Phillies of his life membership at the July ‘07 LNC meeting? Is it a relevant fact that Aaron Starr proposed an affiliate agreement which singled out LPNH for a daunting level of control by the LNC? (Starr lated withdrew after I made the case that it would lead to infighting and bitterness. Who knew?) What does the ExCom of LPNH want?

C.) What is the responsibility of the Barr/Root campaign for handling ballot access? Is it a mis characterization to state that LPNH has no ballot access when the drop dead date was August 6th and the signature validity is known? A mis characterization that there is no LP ballot access if Phillies/Bennett ticket has made the ballot? Does it matter if both are on the ballot? Does it make any difference who is on the ballot as long as the libertarian label is on it?

Get back to me via email (angela at angelakeaton com) if any of you have serious answers so I don’t have to wade through this most worthless thread.

Angela Keaton
At Large Rep
Libertarian National Committee

I have to respectfully disagree with Ms. Keaton. The thread covered everything any redblooded libertarian could ever want to discuss .... from whether state parties overrule the national party on ballot access issues, to whether a qualified candidate must bow out for the nominee in a state which does not allow substitution, to necrophiliac fellatio, and everything in between. We even had self-described "Libertarian Republican" Eric Dondero calling out to his preferred diety, during a profanity-filled rant in which he threatened to come through the computer and rip LFV Contributor GE Smith's head off. Now, ripping off heads is what I call a "bloodsport", though of course making threats on LFV is never, ever acceptable, nor is it ever tolerated.

What do you think, folks? Anyone want to have a little weekend fun, and lay some bets on any of the players? Starr vs Phillies? Keaton vs Starr? Hogarth vs Phillies? Dondero vs GE? ElfNinosMom vs Dondero? Place your bets here!

I've heard of Jello Bombs - I've even had a few - but this is definitely not what that term means.

From The Dreamin' Demon:

Charleston, WV - Paul E. Parrish II, 43, was hungry last Monday.  He also thought it would be a good idea to make some extra cash, maybe catch a movie.  Unfortunately for Paul, the best laid plans of an epic failure often hinge on a Jell-O box.   Hint for future copycats:  Jell-O boxes do not look like bombs.  Nobody will take you seriously.  Not even the clerk at the Movie Gallery.

Parrish apparently went to Kroger on Monday and bought the Jello cheesecake dessert, and ate it.  Sources are unclear on whether he mixed it first.  Maybe he snorted it through a straw like Charles De Mar in Better Off Dead, I dunno.  Anyway, he somehow managed to ingest the tasty dessert, and the resulting sugar high was a bonus for Round Two of Paul’s Epic Fail Adventure.

Once the Jell-O box was empty, Parrish took it with him and entered a nearby Movie Gallery video rental store.  Wearing a gray Unabomber-style hoodie, ski gloves, jeans, and sandals (yes, sandals), Paul placed the box on the counter.  He explained to the clerk that the Jell-O box contained a bomb and that if the clerk did not empty the drawer, Parrish would detonate said Jell-O bomb via remote control.

You can read the entire entry on The Dreamin' Demon here.

NASHVILLE, Tenn. - A woman who made headlines by having five pups cloned and was linked to an abduction case in England is also wanted in Tennessee on charges she tried to plan a burglary in 2004, a defense attorney and prosecutors there said.

Joyce Bernann McKinney was charged in Carter County with criminal conspiracy to commit aggravated burglary, contributing to the delinquency of a minor and failure to appear in court, said attorney David Crockett, who represented her in the Tennessee case. Authorities there said she instructed a 15-year-old boy to break into a house, and Crockett said she needed the money to buy a false leg for a beloved horse.

Crockett said Thursday he hasn't heard from her since she skipped a court date, but after seeing television coverage of the cloning case, he's certain she's the same person known to the world as dog lover Bernann McKinney.

Prosecutors are reviewing charges against the 58-year-old McKinney to decide whether to pursue the case, said Melanie Widener, an assistant district attorney for the county in the northeast part of the state near the North Carolina state line.

"It'll depend on where she is now, how important the case is, how much it would cost the taxpayers and whether witnesses are still around," she said.

McKinney declined comment when reached by phone Thursday.

McKinney was arrested in November 2004 in Tennessee in a van with the 15-year-old, according to a Carter County Sheriff's Department arrest report.

McKinney, then living across the state line in Avery County, N.C., needed money to help her three-legged horse, Crockett said.

"She loved it dearly," Crockett said. "She was a rather bizarre character, and seems to have a strange circumstance now."

He recalled that McKinney had two or three dogs in her car when she conferred with him about her case.

"There was a strong aroma about her, and I told her this needed to be taken care of before I went to court with her," Crockett said.

McKinney made news around the world this summer when she had five pups cloned in South Korea from her beloved pit bull Booger.

She later confirmed she was Joyce McKinney, who in 1977 became a British tabloid sensation over the kidnapping case. She faced charges of unlawful imprisonment after she was accused of abducting a Mormon missionary in England, handcuffing him to a bed and making him her sex slave. She jumped bail and was never brought to justice.

"She is bold to put herself on worldwide television," Crockett said. "She must know she's a fugitive in at least one state."

However, Francis says he never knew anything about the tax problems until after he was indicted, and that the situation is really nothing more than his own CPA setting him up so he could collect a multimillion dollar "reward" from the Internal Revenue Service.

"IRS informant rules permit a CPA who actually plans and initiates the tax return mistakes to still collect the tax informant reward, which in this case could go as high as $10 million. If the case goes criminal, the tax rat gets even more." - Robert Bernhoft, attorney for Joe Francis

Francis has filed a lawsuit against his former CPA, Michael Barrett, for fraud. Francis alleges that Barrett personally prepared, reviewed and approved tax ledgers with errors in them, and vouched for the correctness of those records with Francis's tax preparers. Francis also claims that Barrett never brought the errors to his attention, or to the attention of anyone except the IRS; and that he pushed the IRS to bring criminal charges against Francis, so that he could collect a larger bounty.

Joe Francis's tax evasion trial is presently scheduled to start on September 16th.

1. Pink Floyd - Shine On You Crazy Diamond (All names will be linked to their videos on YouTube)
(The video is almost 9 minutes long, so I recommend you start at 7:14. Also the video is from a live concert to give you a sense of what their concerts were like. Absolutely amazing)
Slow and masterful, but it's really the lyrics that made me pick it as number 1. Even though I'm dead, I would like people to think of me carrying on up in heaven (or hell), living life like the crazy fool I am.

Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.

2. Tenacious D - Tribute (Name linked again)
I guess it wouldn't be right without the party piece, no matter how out of place it would seem.

My karaoke version of Tribute

3. Otis Redding - Dock Of A Bay (It's a nice version)
Slow, simple, great for a funeral. In a way it's how I would like to imagine life after death.

Sittin here resting my bones
And this loneliness won't leave me alone
It's two thousand miles I roamed
Just to make this dock my home

4. Blondie - One Way Or Another (You got the idea yet)
I like the fact that it would scare all those enemies that decided to turn up. Let's face it would funny to see them shit themselves.

One way or another I'm gonna find ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha

5. Frank Sinatra - I Did It My Way (Filled with pictures of Frank Sinatra)
Probably the most overused song at funerals, but that's because the lyrics are perfect. It comes in at number 5 solely for that reason and is only to be used if not already used at someone elses funeral. I always think it is likely to remind people of someone else who had the song played at their funeral.

And now, the end is near,
And so I face the final curtain.
My friends, I'll say it clear;
I'll state my case of which I'm certain.

I've lived a life that's full -
I've travelled each and every highway.
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

6. Lou Reed & The Velvet Underground - Perfect Day (Nice picture of a sunset for the video)
Again, I think the slow and simple melody suits a funeral environment. I mainly like the fact that this song has and always will sound so ironic to me. The slow tempo and simplicity would suggest anything but a 'perfect day', hence my reason for it coming in ay number 6.

Just a perfect day,
Problems all left alone,
Weekenders on our own.
It's such fun.
Just a perfect day,
You made me forget myself.
I thought I was someone else,
Someone good.

Oh it's such a perfect day,
I'm glad I spent it with you.

7. Thunderbirds Theme Tune (The version from the credits of the 1996 Thunderbirds movie)
This is mainly for comical purposes only. I couls just see my coffin being taken away to this music. I guess it would sound like I was in the army or something but it's purely for my love of Thunderbirds as a kid.

8. Mitch Miller Band - Show Me The Way To Go Home (Now I couldn't find the version I like on YouTube, so I've settled with another one)
The song is an old drinking song, believed to have orginated in England, but I've really only ever heard it sung in Ireland. I like it because, let's face it, I like my drink and what better to send me out with a drinking with "Show Me The Way To Go Home" in the lyrics.

Show me the way to go home
I'm tired and I want to go to bed
I had a little drink about an hour ago
And it went right to my head
Where ever I may roam
On land or sea or foam
You will always hear me singing this song
Show me the way to go home

9. Green Day - Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life) (It's a bad quality vid, but I'm not searching around for another one)
It has to be the accoustic version, otherwise I don't want it. Again, it's the simple and slow melody combined with such emotive lyrics. It would represent my life and how I have enjoyed it so far, no matter what.

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

10. Muse - Starlight

I already did this one here.

Imagine having these songs written about you. This is another one I wouldn't mind having played at the ol' death party. In today's world, I'm often considered crazy, and I hope at least a few consider my craziness at least artificially valuable.

Syd era un corpulento anziano signore che viveva solo in una casetta sperduta da qualche parte nella verde Inghilterra. Nel silenzio della sua stanza tesseva fili d'arazzo. Non c’erano attese, non c’erano speranze, se non nel tempo della noia e della malinconia, nell’angoscia delle esperienze psicotiche al tempo della pittura, dove nel cielo color indaco il sole del tramonto era basso all’orizzonte: cammini frastagliati della sofferenza di una vita psico-pato-logica.
Chissà dove vagava la sua mente ora. Era tutto confuso, nel flashback fatto del tessuto ovattato ed evanescente dei sogni, o delle azioni compiute da svegli: il trascorso era qualcosa da afferrare, sollevare e poi lasciare andare, per rimanere stretti a quel senso di gelo che mai lo abbandonò.
Forse un tempo felice lo fu, forse proprio quel giorno che con sguardo fiero e sprezzante, la chitarra in mano, montava il cavallo nero e correva privo di peso attraversando lo spazio e il tempo tra pareti della mente.
Forse, quando compose l'acrostico universale; tratto cromatico di luci nelle note colorate.
Syd era un fiore variopinto simile a nessun altro fiore. I suoi petali, di una delicatezza indicibile, inondarono il mondo di luci psicadeliche. Il suo corpo ondulava in assonanza con le note che segnarono l’inizio di una nuova era.
Syd era nero e brillante, sembrava formato da migliaia e migliaia di formiche. Se lo stavano divorando con lentezza agonizzante. Una graduale scomparsa, quegli incantevoli petali, inghiottiti da un male insidioso. ”Lasciati andare, non lottare”.
Dissolvente interno, che scompone il corpo in tante piccole particelle, mentre precipitano verso il centro dell'oggetto oscuro, la mente spogliata del proprio ego e della propria vita, ma anche della propria morte.
Si ritrovò padrone nella luce bianca. Morto e rinato, la gioia era pura e sacra. I polmoni traboccavano del canto esultante dell'essere. Tutto era vita e unità, sconfinato, era l'amore. Forse vide Dio e il demonio e tutti i santi e conobbe la verità. Viaggiò nel cosmo, oltre ogni limite, libero di nuotare nella radiosità beatifica delle visioni celesti. O nei meandri degli abissi più profondi dove lo inghiottirono la demenza, tra quattro mura e camici bianchi. Fu la fine di un uomo, ma il mito nel silenzio continuò a vivere.
La follia è sempre stata in bilico tra il silenzio del delirio.
L’anticamera dell’alienazione, la sala d’attesa di quel luogo in cui una volta la figura del buffone, nel teatro della vita, divulgava una parola “irresponsabile”, ma che ha il privilegio di una vista acuta e inaudita.
Syd, un ragazzo tra la folla, un concerto di Bob Dylan, un regalo di sua madre, una chitarra: amica -nemica.
L’inizio della fina.
Cala il sipario: è silenzio.
Ora fragile uomo calvo sei eterno nei movimenti orchestrati di accordi nella luce. Estensione naturale, elemento umano, di quelle immagini liquide.
Splendi Diamante pazzo, splendi stella nella notte.

Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
You were caught on the cross fire of childhood and stardom,
blown on the steel breeze.
Come on you target for faraway laughter, come on you stranger,
you legend, you martyr, and shine!

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter,
you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Shine On You Crazy Diamond, © Gilmour, Waters, Wright)

When it comes to naming epic musicians and bands of the 1960s and 1970s, it seems as though Pink Floyd always comes to mind. They were this amazing force that captured the minds of fans all over the world and still continue to do so through their legendary albums.

Brief History:

The music began in London in 1964 (with the name Sigma 6) and within two years and various musicians later, became The Pink Floyd Sound. With the recording of their first album, they officially became Pink Floyd. The guiding strength behind the band was Syd Barret, a blues and folk guitarist and lyricist. After only a few years as a band, Syd was forced to leave due to major mental problems produced by his excessive use of LSD. (PF Online) David Gilmour came to take his place and on continued their success with chart-topping albums Ummagumma, Dark Side of the Moon, and Animals. One of the best-known rock operas ever was The Wall which featured such greatness as “Comfortably Numb,” “Run Like Hell,” “Hey You,” and “Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2).” Roger Waters, bass player and also main lyricist from the mid-1970s on, quit (not on a good note) in 1985 leaving Gilmour to front the band. Their last studio album was released in 1994 and they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1996. The most recent performance of the original members was in 2005 in London for the Live 8 concert series – the first time all four members (David Gilmour, Roger Waters, Nick Mason, and Rick Wright) were on stage together in 24 years.

A few of their masterpieces could be discussed as concept albums, but I chose to highlight Wish You Were Here. I have listened to this somewhat short album probably a five-hundred-thousand times, but thought I would really try to get into the minds of the writers/composers. The track listing to WYWH is “Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts 1-5),” “Welcome to the Machine,” “Have a Cigar,” “Wish You Were Here,” and “Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts 6-9).” (Here are the links to the first and second parts of the SOYCD 6-9.)

The album was released in 1975 which was a few years after the departure of Syd Barret, their main lyricist and guitarist. He had fallen into a dark pit of massive LSD use -- this is NOT a drug to be abusing! It was later revealed that schizophrenia was also a key part of his mental collapse. Syd was always found to be spacing out and unable to concentrate (whether it was in the studio or at a live performance), among other oddities such as detuning his guitar while supposed to be playing. “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” (the introductory track and continuation as the last track) is definitely a tribute to him – “Remember when you were young, You shone like the sun” reflects on his unique talent as a musician and song writer. It also features references to his crazy antics and probably paranoia with “You cried for the moon” and “Threatened by shadows at night.” It is a long, mellow, beautiful song sung with much feeling and sorrow (written by longtime friend Roger Waters). The synthesizer reminds me of a smooth and soft horn section, which is often highlighted in funerals and other types of tributes.

The second track “Welcome to the Machine” is said to be a song of hate toward the music industry and also to the industrialism of society as a whole. It “speaks” in the voice of the music industry, seeming pompous and belittling – “Welcome my son, Welcome to the machine….You’ve been in the pipeline, filling in time….What did you dream? It’s alright, we told you what to dream….” I like how the song features mechanical-sounding effects, making you envision some sort of dark, scary machine coming toward you. The effect on Waters’ voice is eerie too…perfect for transforming his views of the music industry into sort of an audio let-your-imagination-take-over realm.

“Have a Cigar” is the third track and also expresses the band’s negativity toward the record industry. The song begins with about ten seconds of people laughing and talking. (I guess this is considered to be the end of "Welcome to the Machine" because it is not heard on the version of "Cigar"that i posted. Maybe just on the album...) When I hear this, I can visualize Pink Floyd walking through across a large room, a glamorous party, and then entering into a large office area with leather lounge chairs. A well-dressed record executive lights up a Cuban cigar…and then the song begins. It is sung from the perspective of the big-shot record executive trying to get the band to sign a contract or produce more albums, etc. He tries to coax them by saying that they will be superstars – “The band is just fantastic, that is really what I think…Oh by the way, which one is Pink?...We heard about the sellout, you’ve got to get an album out, you owe it to the people…” I personally love this song. There is a sense of cockiness that shines through the sung lyrics which I find amusing. The beat is somewhat irregular in a way that makes you just want to get in the groove. The spine-chilling synthesizer compliments the bass nicely....kind of reminds me of eerie church organs. Through the numerous songs directed (negatively) toward the record industry, it makes you wonder about the pressures that go on behind the scenes of your favorite albums. Were they forced? Were they limited on their creativity?

The title track to the album, “Wish You Were Here” is probably one of Pink Floyd’s best known songs. It is a mellow tune which I believe is definitely a tribute to Syd and expresses pain from his leaving (after he left the band, he seemed to have lost touch with everyone). It features Gilmour on acoustic guitar and singing beautiful lyrics. There are assorted metaphors displayed in the song that are in reference to Syd’s changing life and the distraught his craziness had brought upon others – “…So you think you can tell, Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain. Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?” After thinking about it, I believe that “…Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?” refers to his place in the music industry and then what became of him. He was revolutionary and did not follow the paths of others, walking into the music industry with simply his music to “fight” with. He then ended up “in a cage” when he aided in destroying himself, committing the rest of his life to solitude and distance.

I indeed believe that Wish You Were Here is a tribute to the tragedies that Pink Floyd experienced as a band. They endured the hardships of the record industry tugging at their creativity and pressuring them for chart-toppers and albums just for profit. They also went through extremely tough times with the mental “passing” of one of their beloved members Syd Barret. Their music is very emotional and always well thought out, leaving them legends of their own kind: rock legends, gods if you will. :o)

~Rachel.

(wikipedia was very helpful and all of the information is cited!!)