Like Suicide - A Song About a Bird. By Chris Cornell

In an interview Chris Cornell tells how he came to write the song ‘Like Suicide.’

Waking up to a loud thwack he looked outside to find a crow that had flown into his picture window

The injured bird was lying in his garden, paralyzed, with a broken neck. He put the bird out of its misery by killing it with a nearby brick. The incident troubled him so much that he wrote this song.



Heard it from another room
Eyes were waking up just to fall asleep
Love's like suicide
Dazed out in a garden bed
With a broken neck lays my broken gift
Just like suicide

And my last ditch
Was my last brick
Lent to finish her
Finish her

She lived like a murder
How she'd fly so sweetly
She lived like a murder
But she died just like suicide

Bit down on the bullet now
I had a taste so sour
I had to think of something sweet
Love's like suicide

Safe outside my gilded cage
With an ounce of pain
I wield a ton of rage
Just like suicide

With eyes of blood
And bitter blue
How I feel for you
I feel for you

She lived like a murder
How she'd fly so sweetly
She lived like a murder
But she died just like suicide

I don't think Chris Cornell intend to kill himself. I believe it was an accident that looks, “just like suicide.” Rest in peace Chris. Nobody sings like you anymore.

I Can't Eat Pigs Anymore

Mmm, bacon seeds!

I can look almost any animal in the eye and eat it; cows, chickens, rabbits, fish, all the regular eating animals, but I can no longer eat a pig.

I haven't converted to any bacon hating religion, gone vegetarian, or met any pigs personally - I'm not going to launch a diatribe extolling the virtues of the pig. They may have some. I'm not going to try to convince you that I've reached a higher level of consciousness that no longer allows me to eat my fellow beasts. I haven't. They just don't pass the "look'em in the eye" test anymore.

I'm not adamant. I ordered eggs benedict recently and was a little grateful that I had forgotten it would contain a delicious slab of Canadian bacon, but; I don't buy pork in the grocery store, and I will be more careful when eating out. I thank the turkey, that great impersonator of meats, that really tastes like chicken, I think.

I just hope this new attitude doesn't spread to the other animals, like cows. When I pass a herd of cows these days I don't roll down my window and yell out "Moo!" like I use to. I keep my eyes forward and drive. They're delicious.

More Pork:
A Bit Of Bacon - Jim Gaffigan's classic comedy routine. [YouTube]
Curtis - "She's acting like she's the queen and we're the sorry people!" [YouTube]
Tactical Bacon - For your Trumpacolypse shelter.

Marco Rubio has a Large

"I have a big <HANDS> too."

As Congressman Marco Rubio grilled Rex Tillerson on whether or not Vladimir Putin was an international slime-ball and a war criminal I couldn't help but think of a young man that wanted to let all the older gentlemen in the room know that he, like them, also has a large <HANDS>.

He just wanted to make sure, that after the Republican primaries and all the confusion, sexual innuendo, and political humiliation, that his <HANDS> size was never in doubt and was indeed large enough for him to ask Mr. Tillerson the big and important questions that will get you on all the TV news programs.

No incoming Secretary of State is going to start off their tenure by calling the Russian President a war criminal in an internationally televised congressional confirmation hearing no matter what they may think personally. And congressman Rubio knows that.

Instead of asking questions that could possibly inform on the future direction of the State Department and our nation's foreign policy he decided to put his <HANDS> on display. Well played and congratulations Mr. Rubio, you have a big <HANDS>. I'll spread the word and thanks for the show.

Note: This article has been edited to be family friendly.

Movies Roger Ebert Hated

Roger Ebert 1942 - 2013

Movies Roger Ebert Hated.

Great Movies from RogerEbert.com

Here are some classic Siskel & Ebert TV shows.

Rest in peace Mr. Ebert.