Who’s left?
T-t-t-talkin’ ’bout my d-d-d-decomposition
B’fore we go any further, some administrative housekeeping demands immediate attention. That is, I desperately need to use the phrase "Canada: Where Dreams Come to Die" in print as soon as possible. Now would be good, if not sooner. This isn’t a sly, inside-hep "reference" to anything in particular, but more a preemptive strike against copyright poachers. Not that there necessarily are copyright poachers tramping around out there in the woods (altho I thought I caught a flash of orange hunter’s cap behind the outhouse, but it was prob’ly just swamp gas), but if there are I’d just like it to be known I used the phrase "Canada: Where Dreams Come to Die" no later than, like, today. I suppose I could’ve just written the words "Canada: Where Dreams Come to Die" on a scrap of paper & then sent it (that is, the scrap reading "Canada: Where Dreams Come to Die") to m’self via First Class Mail or whatever, but this seemed easier. Definitely cheaper, oh yes.
Since that’s out of the way, let’s move onto matters more fun. Heck, we can even pick up on key words from the prev. parag. (namely "where" and "come to die," but not "Canada" nor "dreams") to craft something like a thematic thru-line! This is unexpected and exciting. Let’s do this thing, by gum!
How’s this for weird: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is an over-written, over-acted, yet strangely compelling (read: the guiltiest of guilty pleasures) television drama in which a team of cop-scientists try to figure out who – or what – killed various corpses-of-the-week, all paraded in front of a glitzy Las Vegas backdrop. (Methinks it’s the first cop series set in Sin City since, uh, what was that one w/ R.Urich called? Mayhaps simply Las?) Then J. Entwistle, bassist for you-know-uh-errr-who, went & expired in a Las Vegas hotel room on the eve of yet another reunion tour. So far, no weird. Until you factor in that the CSI theme song is none other than The Who’s "Who Are You" (1978 – eerily, it’s the title track from the last Who album recorded before K. Moon bit the big one). So, by virtue of dying (b’fore he got old!) (oh Irony, you merciless bitch goddess, how I love yr playful ways) in Vegas, Entwistle inadvertently became exactly the kinda dead person investigated by characters on a TV show which regularly employs his own music. Holy snake-eating-its-own-tail moley! It’d be like if D. Warren (the schlock-rock scribe behind Star Trek: Enterprise’s inexplicable power-ballad theme) suddenly died on a seemingly uninhabited Earth-like planet where hallucinogenic flower pollen sends visitors’ imaginations into paroxysms of paranoid fancy. Or if A. Chilton & C. Bell (who co-writ the rawk tune now known as "That ’70s Song") had actually died in the 1970s. (Come to think of it, one of ’em did die in the ’70s. And the other one sorta did, too, in a matter of speaking. But you know what I mean.) C’est freaké, non?
Nat’lly, all eyes are now on the inevitable CSI spin-off, CSI: Miami (formerly titled CSI: Joanie Loves Chachi). The pilot (debuting in Sept.) promises to be a real gripper, as carrot-topped star D. Caruso tries to figure out who – or what – killed his career. But the real dramatic tension centres around the show’s theme song: which classic rock kazillionaire will sell out for yet another big fat royalty cheque, and will it be worth risking possible death in sunny Florida? I have a hunch not a lot of concert tours will be stopping in Miami, if you know wha’m saying. I also have a hunch CSI: Miami will blow donkey, if you know wha’m saying. I also have a hunch I will watch it compulsively, if you know wha’m saying. It’s a little bit scary being such a gifted, prescient individual. Sometimes I frighten even myself. |
