Put me on the train, send me back to my home Couldn't live without you when I tried to roam Put me by the window, let me see outside Looking at the p… - Moby

I got a phone call from Ricky Martin's management asking me if I'd like to do something with him in Florida around the winter music conference. My answer is as follows: 'I would consider doing something with Ricky Martin if and only if he publicly apologizes for performing at George W's inauguration and if he confirms that when he danced next to George W. Bush at the inauguration he could smell brimstone and that George W. Bush is in fact the spawn of Satan. So if Ricky Martin goes on national television to confirm that George W. is the spawn of Satan then I will perform with him. Otherwise no deal. And only if we can do a cover of 'In a Gadda-da-vida', but The Simpsons version, 'In the garden of Eden' (to which reverend Lovejoy responds ""that sounds like rock and or roll""). And, by the way, I'm a pretty easygoing young-ish person, so if you ever see me walking down the street just stop me and say hello. We're all in the same boat, right? of course you'll have to make it past my phalanx of security guards who are all ex-NFL linebackers, and the cadre of dobermans, and the perma-moat that I wear that's filled with electric eels and vicious sea monkeys. So if you see me just come and say hi. I'm normal.

It will be interesting to see what the long term fruits of our national apathy will be, 'cos so far they've been pretty foul.

And on the last day
He walked out in the sun
He only just discovered the sun
On the last day And on the last day
When all his work was done
He only just discovered the sun
On the last day All this rapture
Right here all along
In scraps he tore away All this color
In his final breath
Exhaled the dark and gray