The letter is from a law firm representing the Recording Industry Association of America and says it’s an important legal notice. It goes on to say Jones used her computer to share 683 copyrighted songs and there is a $750 fine for each song.

"That’s $512,250," she said. "Oh my gosh. The record companies are suing me for half a million dollars."

The letter directed Jones to call a settlement number.

"We’re going to settle this with you for $4000," said Jones of the call. "That’s non-negotiable."

Unable to pay, Jones feels out of options. But there may be something else she can try.

"If this were me, if this happened to me, I would immediately respond with a letter that said I am not going to do this anymore," said University of Houston Law Professor Richard Alderman. "If you would send me the evidence you have that it was done, I will talk to my child. I am not going to accept any responsibility, but I offer "x" dollars."

Alderman says the lawsuit threat should be a warning to every parent whose kids are using web sites to share copyrighted songs. It’s a warning echoed by Jay Lee, who hosts a radio program specializing in computer issues.

"I would tell parents to consider removing that software," said Jay Lee, host of the radio show Technology Bytes. "It’s primary purpose tends to be at least among adolescents, is the sharing of copyrighted material."

It’s interesting to note the letter Jones received claims her computer uploaded songs at three in the morning, a time when no one was actually using her computer, but that’s how file sharing software works.

"The computer is doing it on its own," said Lee. "The software is designed to search for and offer up the files."

I spoke to someone at the Recording Industry Association of America, they say about 28,000 of these lawsuit warnings have been sent out in the last few years and the industry has investigators on peer to peer web sites looking for people illegally sharing copyrighted material.

This was written by Joe-Bob Briggs at The Wittenburg Door an online Christian satire magazine.

'm tired of people freakin' out all the time about how the gospels don't make sense because Mark says something different from Matthew who says something different from Luke, and then John goes off on a whole crazy tangent. How long we been doing this, people? Three hundred years?

Let's settle this, all right?

Today I will prove how the apparent differences in scripture have a perfectly logical explanation.

Read this and then stop bugging me about it.

Okay. We're gonna look at four accounts of one event: What happened at the goldurn tomb?

Lemme sum it up for you . . .

Text Numero Uno: Matthew 28:1-8:

A. Two women went down to the tomb. Mary Magdalene and "the other Mary."

B. They went before sunup.

C. There was an earthquake and an angel rolled away the stone, and there were trembling guards watching.

D. The angel sat his butt down on the stone.

E. The angel invited the two ladies into the tomb and told them to inform the disciples that he would be showing up in Galilee.

F. The ladies ran away and didn't tell anybody.

Okay, got that one? Moving on.

Text Numero Two-o: Mark 16: 1-8:

A. Three women go down to the tomb—Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome. They have spices with 'em.

B. They went after the sun was already up.

C. The stone was already rolled back.

D. They saw a young man in white. Maybe he's an angel and maybe he's not.

E. The man in white tells them to inform the disciples that he'll be showing up in Galilee.

F. The ladies ran away and did tell the disciples.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. Those are some major differences, right? Just hold your horses a minute, I'm not done.

Text Numero Three-o: Luke 24: 1-12:

A. A whole bunch of women go down to the tomb, including Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James, and they have spices.

B. They go right at the crack of dawn.

C. The stone was already rolled back.

D. The ladies go inside, and two men in white show up.

E. The two men in white don't say diddly squat.

F. The ladies tell the disciples what they saw, but the disciples all say, "Oh you did not."

Okay, so much for the three "synoptic" gospels, as they call 'em. But you know it's gonna get freaky now, right? Whenever you get to John, you got a whole 'nother infomercial going on. No wonder John went to live in Turkey—after a while nobody would talk to him, because it was like, "Yeah, was over at John's just now, you don't wanna know what he said." So here goes . . .

Text Numero Four-o: John 20: 1-13:

A. Mary Magdalene shows up at the tomb alone.

B. It's still dark outside.

C. The stone is already rolled away.

D. Here's the interesting part. Based on the other three, we're expecting her to go inside right now, but instead she hauls butt out of there.

E. She goes and finds Peter and tells him the stone is rolled away. She also informs the "beloved disciple."

F. Meanwhile, she gets curious and goes back to the tomb, right behind the two men, and she hangs around after they're gone. Then she sees two angels in white, plus she sees Jesus, but she thinks he's a gardener.

I told you John would be freaky.

Okay, so what have we learned today?

First of all, never send women to report on something. Obviously at some point the combination of Mary and Mary Magdalene arguing over what they saw became an ancient version of The View, with Salome as the Rosie O'Donnell character who shows up late and starts to believe that she was there, too. By the year AD 39, you've got about 300 women who think they were there, plus some Roman guards who are badmouthing one another for who did the most trembling.

But the way to see through all the crapola is to not to concentrate on who was there, or what time it was, or whether the stone rolled away by itself or because of an earthquake, or whether one or two angels did or did not say anything about making for Galilee, but the very last part of the story. Who did she tell? (Or, okay, who did they tell?)

In Matthew, the women don't talk at all, they keep the whole deal to themselves. What could possibly be the explanation for this? I'll tell you what. Matthew was out of the loop. He was pissed. So when he wrote his gospel, he's like, "Sure they ran and told you guys, yeah, right. That's the way God works. He only tells one of us. What do you have, like, secret knowledge?" So he writes it as: hey, these ladies saw something, and they've been talking about it ever since. Who knows?

In Mark, the women run away and tell "the disciples." Nobody specific. They just told a bunch of disciples. Mark doesn't care because he was, like, eight years old at the time. There were so many guys in beards around, he's like, "Uh, yeah, Dad, it was that one with the crooked nose." No help at all. He just knows that somebody got told.

Then we've got Luke. He creates this whole drama where a bunch of breathless women are running up to the disciples and they're going, "Oh yeah, right, you talked to an angel—what are you doing, Cult of Ishtar astrology or something? Hardy har har." This was always Luke's big issue—that every time anything was revealed to the disciples, they acted like idiots. Luke assumes that everybody is a doofus up to the time of Pentecost, and then the disciples all suddenly become spiritual master-warriors. The fact is, Luke doesn't care who the women told, because he was probably a med school student at the time and just didn't have a dog in that fight.

Which brings us to the Weird Gospel. Why would John basically call bullstuff on all the other gospel accounts? First of all, he's the only guy who says it was Mary Magdalene, nobody else, who went down there in the dark. He probably told this version to Matthew, Mark and Luke, and all three of them go, "Only the hooker? That's it? There had to be lots of women down there." And John says, "Yeah, only the hooker." Then what does she do? Hauls ass! She's terrified—there might be grave robbers inside there, mutilating the body. Not the kind of story you would make up, right? And then who does she tell? Not "the disciples." She tells two specific people—Peter and "the beloved disciple." And we know who the beloved disciple is—that was the shy way they had for referring to John himself in his own gospel. So it's basically an eyewitness account. Mary Magdalene runs up wild-eyed and raving, and they tell her, "Well, don't worry, that was God." And so later, after she calms down, she goes back and sees the two angels and then Jesus himself, only she doesn't recognize him, so he has to tell her, "Hey it's me, but don't touch me." And then she runs and tells everybody that story, which explains why all the other gospel writers have women running all over the place telling the story. And then adding in the other Mary later because they're thinking "Hey, how can the hooker go before his mom goes?" And then, when it gets really crazy, adding in additional random females like Salome.

So the answer is: Mary Magdalene sees the tomb and freaks out. Two men tell her what she saw. Jesus confirms it. Women gossip about it for the next 50 years.

The Exegete has spoken.

1. Floccinaucinihilipilification - "the act or habit of estimating or describing something as worthless, or making something to be worthless by deprecation".  With 29 letters, it is the longest non-technical word in the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, which presents it as "enumerated in a well-known rule from the Eton Latin Grammar". The OED dates its first use in literature at 1741 in William Shenstone's Works in Prose and Verse: "I loved him for nothing so much as his flocci-nauci-nihili-pili-fication of money".

2. Mesonoxian - of or related to midnight.

3. Tyrotoxism - poisoning by cheese or any milk product.

4. Zabernism – an obsolete word meaning 'the abuse of military power or authority; unjustified aggression'. From the name Zabern, the German name for Saverne in Alsace, where in 1912 an overeager German subaltern killed a cobbler who smiled at him.

5. Rastaquouere - a social climber.

6. Finnimbrun - obs. rare a trifle, a gimcrack.

7. Lamprophony – loudness and clarity of voice.

8. Mungo - adumpster diver, one who extracts valuable things from trash.

9. Erinaceous - of the Hedgehog family; like, or characteristic of, a hedgehog.

10. Selcouth - unfamiliar, rare, strange, marvelous, wonderful. For example:  that rastaquouere Edward Motter-Vlahakos' guitar stylings are ever so selcouth!

..> ..>

ately, when in need of solitude, i've taken to disappearing into a remote bayou area of clear lake and fishing from an old wooden dock.  With my trusty saltwater rig and a Styrofoam cup full of nasty frozen shrimp I slowly trawl the bottom of a murky inlet as time slowly oozes by.  The whole exercise is about finding quiet and peace by myself and engaging in an activity as close to doing nothing as I can, and yet I invariably catch a fish.  It kind of goes against the goal of what i'm actually trying to accomplish, which is doing nothing, by inadvertently achieving something.  It always follows the same routine too; I languidly sit stooped over the edge of the water, toss out my crustacean laden hook as closely as I can to the shadowy far bank, and then ever so slowly crank the stem of my fishing pole and drag the bait across the slimy bottom.   Today it was a whopper of a catfish, well; it was certainly at the extreme end of what I can physically pull in with my flimsy 25 lb test line.  And I always feel obliged to fillet and eat the poor sucker, once again forcing myself to do far more labour than I was intending.  You know, the only real problem with doing nothing is that you can never really tell when you're done.  Oh well, at least Alicia got a nice meal out of the deal.

Make a distinction between Good Slime and Evil Slime. Good Slime does not really do anything except maybe make you disgusted. Evil Slime, on the other hand, tends to eat you, dissolve you, expand like there is no tomorrow, et cetera. A surefire way of distinguishing between Good Slime and Evil Slime is this:
When you see a pool of slime for the first time, ask yourself these questions. But before proceeding, take heed; Good or Evil, no slime at all is better.
1. Does it shiver, move about or show any other sign of having means of producing kinetic energy by itself? No? Then it is probably safe to assume that you are dealing with Good Slime.
2. Does it have countless mouths and bulging eyes? No? Good Slime.
3. Does it talk? No? Good Slime.
4. Do you feel threatened in any way by this slime? No? Good Slime.
5. Poke the slime with a pointy stick. Does it react? No? Good Slime.
6. Have any of your pets disappeared lately? No? If yes, can you see the bones of your pets inside the slime? Yes? Evil Slime.
7. Did the slime come from outer space? No? Good Slime.

When dealing with beings of incomprehensible power, tread lightly. If you suddenly decompose, burst into flames, explode or suffer otherwise along similar lines you know you have done something wrong.

On the other hand, if you deal with beings of incomprehensible power you are a right git and deserve nothing less. Steer well clear of Outer Gods, Elder Gods, Old Ones and their ilk.

Of course, following these pointers alone is not really enough to keep you alive. Common sense along with a big dose of self-preservation is also needed, but often sorely lacking when it comes to investigating the paranormal. Good luck, and remember: even how dreary it may sound, spending your last years in a retirement home is far better than spending your last years in a mental asylum eating bugs.

o I just did something a little thoughtless.  Well, in all truth it was fairly thoughtful and unnecessarily vain.  I took a razor to my head!  Hold ladies all, before you swoon with impassioned trepidation, I did NOT cut off my hair, not much of it anyway.  I have failed on two out of three edicts concerning the Nazarene oath already (what with the plentitude of dead bodies and especially the countless glasses of wine about) so a brief trimming of my hitherto feral tresses seemed a little matter in completing the conclusion of this unintentional vow.  The poofy ends which refused to 'dread' and innumerable stray hairs provided an unkempt corona of fur in my coiffure, which terminally confused the casual onlooker as to the exact nature of my hairstyle.  I'm not exactly sure what its supposed to be anyway, but that doesn't help me to field the well meaning questions that my hair-mess provoked.  Of course it doesn't look much neater now, but with all the un-knotted ends clipped into faerie-land and most of the whispy clutter neatly crochet-ed together (thanks to the skillful ministrations of my lovely wife, whose artwork my crowning mane is anyway) my locks now at least resemble something that people may have seen sprouting from the scalps of other humans, albeit curious ones at best.

've never been entirely comfortable with the term "dreadlocks", although the uncertain etymology of the word is well recorded as being (according to wikipedia) "In Jamaica the term dreadlocks was first recorded in the 1950s as a derogatory term when the "Young Black Faith", an early sect of the Rastafari which began among the marginalized poor of Jamaica in the 1930s, ceased to copy the particular hair style of Haile Selassie I of Ethiopia and began to wear locks instead. It was said that they looked 'dreadful' with their locks, which gave birth to the modern name 'dreadlocks' for this ancient style."  Dreadlocks just seems to be the specific name for that carribian phenomenom, doubtless influenced by the marriage of Indian/Hindu culture with the African traditions peculiar to Jamaica, and not a term which captures every facet of their meaning.  Also some people are offended by the term, or find that my cultural appropreation of such an obviously Rastafarian style disagreeable.  Not that I'm particularly sensitive to other peoples feelings on the subject (although perhaps a little too sensitive of my own).

really like the term "Elf-Locks", although on reflection it seems to immediately bring to mind some dancing fae-headed beauty or a certain type of starved junkie adolescent model, none of which am I (I'm thick-set in a way that kind of makes stout appear slight and whispy).  Apparently in the early 17th century, European people began to believe matted locks of hair were an external symptom of an internal illness. A growing plait was supposed to take the illness "out" of the body, and therefore it was rarely cut off; in addition, the belief that a cut-off plait could avenge itself (!) and bring an even greater illness discouraged some from snipping it off. It was also believed that casting a magic spell on someone could cause that person to develop a Polish plait, hence also the name "elflock" was used in English.  There is much historical literacy in the expression, and not the supposed references in Julius Caesars "Conquest of Gaul" (which I have unsuccessfully searched) where he states at some point that the Celts he was embattling had "hair like snakes".  But no, good old Shakespere used the term in more than one play to mean "when dirty hair became clotted together it was superstitiously put down to elves, hence "elflocks." Observe the following lines from Mercutio in Romeo & Juliet Act 1. Scene IV…

..:NAMESPACE PREFIX = O />

This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night,
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:

he glorious Richard Burton (the English explorer/translator/linguist not the actor) states in his delightfully prosaic "Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah" CHAPTER XIX. A RIDE TO THE MOSQUE OF KUBA…

"After threading our way through the gardens, an operation requiring less time than to describe them, we saw, peeping through the groves, Kuba's simple minaret. Then we came in sight of a confused heap of huts and dwelling-houses, chapels and towers with trees between, and foul lanes, heaps of rubbish, and barking dogs, — the usual material of a Hijazi village. Having dismounted, we gave our animals in charge of a dozen infant Badawin, the produce of the peasant gardeners, who shouted "Bakhshish" the moment they saw us. To this they were urged by their mothers, and I willingly parted with a few paras for the purpose of establishing an intercourse with fellow-creatures so fearfully and wonderfully resembling the tailless baboon. Their bodies, unlike those of Egyptian children, were slim and straight, but their ribs stood out with curious distinctness; the colour of the skin was that oily lamp-black seen upon the face of a European sweep; and the elf-locks, thatching the cocoa-nut heads, had been stained by the sun, wind, and rain to that reddish-brown hue which Hindu romances have appropriated to their Rakshasas or demons. Each anatomy carried in his arms a stark-naked miniature of himself, fierce-looking babies with faces all eyes, and the strong little wretches were still able to extend the right hand and exert their lungs with direful clamour. Their mothers were fit progenitors for such progeny: long, gaunt, with emaciated limbs, wall-sided, high-shouldered, and straight-backed, with pendulous bosoms, spider-like arms, and splay feet. Their long elf-locks, wrinkled faces, and high cheek-bones, their lips darker than the epidermis, hollow staring eyes, sparkling as if to light up the extreme ugliness around, and voices screaming as though in a perennial rage, invested them with all the "charms of Sycorax." These "Houris of Jahannam" were habited in long night-gowns dyed blue to conceal want of washing, and the squalid children had about a yard of the same material wrapped round their waists for all toilette. This is not an overdrawn portrait of the farmer race of Arabs, the most despised by their fellow-countrymen, and the most hard-favoured, morally as well as physically, of all the breed."

n Sir Walter Scott's Guy Mannering (1815) we see Meg Merrilies luxuriously presenting herself, amongst the best descriptions in the work.

'She was standing upon one of those high banks, which, as we before noticed, overhung the road; so that she was placed considerably higher than Ellengowan, even though he was on horseback; and her tall figure, relieved against the clear blue sky, seemed almost of supernatural height. We have noticed, that there was in her general attire, or rather in her mode of adjusting it, somewhat of a foreign costume, artfully adopted perhaps from some traditional notions respecting the dress of her ancestors. On this occasion, she had a large piece of red cotton cloth rolled about her head in the form of a turban, from beneath which her dark eyes flashed with uncommon lustre. Her long and tangled black hair fell in elf locks from the folds of this singular head gear. Her attitude was that of a sybil in frenzy, and she stretched out, in her right hand, a sapling bough which seemed just pulled.'

ewis Carrol, in one of his lesser known poems Faces in the Fire composed in 1860 (5 years before his nonsensical masterpiece "Alice in Wonderland" has a line that goes

Amid the glow I seem to trace

The shifting semblance of a face. -

'Tis now a little childish form-

Red lips for kisses pouted warm-

And elf-locks tangled in the storm. -

'Tis now a grave and gentle maid,

At her own beauty half afraid,

Shrinking, and willing to be stayed. -

Oh, Time was young, and Life was warm,

When first I saw that fairy-form,

nd one of my favorite authors, Rudyard Kipling, in his "How the Alphabet was Made" from Just So Stories mentions (again in poetry) Taffy dancing through the fern to lead the spring again…

Her brows are bound with bracken-fronds,
    And golden elf-locks fly above;
Her eyes are bright as diamonds