KURT COBAIN'S SUICIDE NOTE

 Mathew 

At 16, I thought I was cool. I was the tallest in class, the best athlete, the most eloquent and also the best-looking kid in town. Hmmm… OK… I’ll admit it was a small town. I had a girlfriend too, one with actual boobs rather than raised nipples and hopefully would be able to go all the way with. The condoms were in the wallet, ever-ready for the deal. 
I was a star. I was a saint too. Went to church, never was involved in a fight and a hit with a parent-folk too. For a town in Kerala, dominated by Christian families, this was enough. 
My baptism into the religion of drinking was on the day before Christmas that year. The priests presiding over the ritual were Arun and John, belonging to ’the rebel’ clique in school. Yes, they loved me too. 
I remember being animated that morning as I was waiting for the call to come- John’s call. He was given the esteemed job of procuring the booze. Arun’s usual supplier, his uncle, who would have given away his entire estate granted that he was asked nicely and he was beyond his fifth peg, was out of town. John would have to bribe his Rubber-Tapper to get it from the ‘civil supplies’. 
The house was filling up with my extended family members as it was decided that our family would host the Christmas party.  The driveway was quickly filling up with cars and disgruntled drivers. My mouth was already hurting from keeping that smile in place. The questions, oh, the questions, they just keep on coming. Booze was yet to be introduced into the group as my Dad was waiting for the quorum to be filled. Once, that’s done, the questions get another life altogether.  
The call came at last. I got on my Honda Activa and zoomed towards the rendezvous point- Arun’s place. His family was out to visit relatives and as he didn’t perform ‘well’ in the exams he was forced to stay at home to study for a retest after the holidays. I was given the job for getting the Pepsi and ‘touchings’. On the way, I stopped at a bakery, bought a bottle of Pepsi and a ‘mixture packet’. To the sly smile of the bakery owner, I replied that Dad’s gang had arrived. He gave me two ‘Pan Pasand’ candies as change. Not to look suspicious I took it and left. 
Arun and John were ready with the glasses and the nudie magazines. The stuff-was the much revered McDowells Celebrations Rum, a brand which I still ardently follow. They gave me the low down on how you never have a hangover and how college students swear by it. 
My dad and my uncles were all whisky people, so rum was a revelation to me. Arun deftly gave a tap on the cap, an elbow butt at the bottom and with a swift twist of the hand the cap was open, which seemed awesome then. Three glasses were poured to equal amounts of what was described as 90s. Pepsi was poured in next and the mixture packet opened out in a heap in the middle.
A quick swig after the ceremonial cheers gave me the first taste of the lovable poison. The anticipation I had seemed a bit trifle after that. We settled down into a rhythm, drinking slowly, feeling the drink take over the body and making life more bearable. I tried the cigarette that John gave me. I loved it and kept half of it for later. Tongues were loosened and secrets were exchanged and my narration of the escapades with the school babe took the sheen away from the nudie magazines. After the third 90, I was done. 
With the help of my friends, my favourite friends, I reached home. I could manage myself as I knew all of them in there would be too drunk to notice but I was afraid of the dreaded smell. I dug into my pockets and got out the Pan Pasand, I thanked god and popped one in.  
This somehow was a bad move, the sugar or I think the hideous taste triggered some reactions in me. I staggered into the veranda and I missed a step and fell down face first on to red-oxided floor. I threw up immediately making yellow puddle with the Pan Pasand as a cherry on top of it. I felt limp; my attempts at getting up were quite futile. Hearing the commotion, the entire family came out see me wading in my own vomit. My elder brother and dad took in charge and dragged me in to the bathroom. My dad emptied my pockets and found my wallet which had a picture of my girlfriend, an unused condom, a half-smoked cigarette which suspiciously looked like it had marijuana in it and a Pan Pasand. I was no longer a saint.  
I still think that was the best day of my life.  
PS- I got laid that weekend, as the rebel tag was too much for her to handle

                                           Martha 

The front door was locked and dead-bolted. “Very thorough”, was the first impression I had as I sat back on the chair facing my husband who was slowly bleeding to death. The bottle full of aspirin acted as an anti-coagulant which resisted nature from saving his life. It made the event more fun to watch.  

Well, he deserves it. That’s the only justification I can give. We have been married for the past 4 years. He was boring, lousy in bed and a stingy bastard. He was too honest and politically correct that it became intolerable. He was a momma’s boy and a son of the church. Get this-we didn’t make love on Fridays as he thought it might hurt ‘somebody’s’ sentiments. I decided to not to have kids with him coz the last thing that the world needed were more dull people. 

My Juan was just the opposite, now, that’s a man who can please his woman.  Sure, he slept around, but I was not exactly looking for anything concrete either. He was all man. We were in the middle of round three when this idiot walked in and spoilt everything. He had to die. 

Look at him, bleeding.  I am thoroughly enjoying this, watching him pay for the four years that he took away for me. I had to sneak about and invite filth into my life because he couldn’t deliver. Dr. Phil would have understood what I was going through. Even that book “He’s not that into you” is on my side. You know what; I think he was cheating on me too, with that church lady Annie. That bitch!  

Paul was clearly fading away, his eyes opened for a moment. His eyes filled with terror when he saw me. Ha! Didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?  Those eyes kept staring at me, the fear fading away. He smiled for the last time and took his last breath. Was love the reason for this mess?  

Excerpts from Detective Philip’s notes 

Triple 187 out in New Jersey 

Three bodies, two in the bedroom and one in the living room. 

The living room had the dead husband and was ID’ed as Paul.  His wrists were slit possibly with the knife lying on the coffee table next to the chair. A .38 calibre gun was also found on the table. Death was due to heart failure after Class IV Haemorrhage. The empty bottles of aspirin suggest it might have been used as an anti-coagulant. 

The bodies in the bedroom were naked and were ID’ed as Martha, the wife and Juan, the next door neighbour. Multiple bullet wounds were found on both bodies which were consistent with the calibre of the gun found near Paul. The room was in disarray which indicated evidence of a struggle. 

Probable hypothesis

Paul comes in, finds the wife with Juan. In a fit of rage, killed both of them with the gun and committed suicide by slitting his veins.  

…the only thing that perplexed me is the fact that he did not use the gun to kill himself and he was sane enough to take the aspirin to make sure he succeeded in his attempt. He took the hard way out, as if though he was punishing himself… 

Steve

Steve was a designer, an automotive component designer to be exact and an exemplary one at that too. He took pride in his designs; his work was everywhere-in Jaguars, Bentleys, Aston Martins, the lot.
He designed speedometers, usually only bits of it; the bits which you wouldn’t even notice unless somebody pointed out the marvelous flow of design, much like his life.

Steve woke that morning with a start. It was the 8th of September. He hated the room he woke up in, to him it was no more than a pigsty, the garish colors and the ill-matching furniture just made him feel more nauseated than the aftertaste of the rum-induced night-in-town he had. He looked at the girl lying next him wondering why he had to do that to her. The wounds on her arms from the ropes were still ripe.

The image of his friend Mike saying “Money gives you access to all kinds of shit” in a lousy diner next to his workplace came to his mind. His thoughts wandered to think why were all diners lousy. He looked at her again and noticed that she was indeed very pretty for a $50 hooker, rather young too. He considered himself lucky this time, usually it’s the disgusting ones that he ends up with. His wondered why his blackout episodes were more prominent these days. His psychiatrist blamed the alcohol for them. He thought of him as a twat.

He curled up to her and touched her face, it felt unusually cold. He noticed that she wasn’t breathing. Panic set in. He pulled off the sheets and saw the cuts, the bruises from the lashes. Like in the millions of movies he had seen growing up he checked for her pulse- there was none. His head started spinning. He gathered his clothes and ran. He ran half naked through the streets trying to make sense of it all, never realizing his nakedness.
The rains broke-out, drenching Steve and the streets. He welcomed the feel of the acid-diluted rain on his body, it felt as if it though it cleansed him from his sins.

The episodes started over a year ago, when Prozac and alcohol was a way of life for him. He had just designed a meter for Jaguar, so went out to celebrate his work, by himself as usual. He drowned his misery in a bottle of rum. Nobody saw his work as he could. He saw the intricacies, the form, the flow of his design- the ingrates at his workplace definitely did not. He remembers the next day waking up in a seedy place like the one he woke up in today with the just the memory of leaving the park. The episodes of bondage came much later, almost 4 months after the first episode. Every time he woke up from an episode he felt refreshed, the world seemed more hospitable to him. He craved for it.

He ran towards the park, the rain pelting down more heavily. St. Mary’s Park was always special to him; all his favorite moments were in this park. This was where his family came out for picnics before the accident. This was where his dad played catch with him, had his first kiss, his birthday parties.

He ran to the statue in the middle of the park, a ‘Pieta’. He fell down at the feet of the statue, exhausted. His mind was still numb from the image of the dead girl. He tried hard to remember what happened last night, searched his head for the slightest memory but in vain.

He cried.

He was overcome with remorse; he blamed his inability to deal with the world. He tried to escape from it and now it cost a life. He tried to reason, that she was a hooker and her life wouldn’t amount to anything other than making a few perverts happy. He realized his life didn’t amount to anything too, the automotive world would still continue to exist without him, he had no friends, no legacy, no relatives who cared about him, nobody that loves him, nobody to cry at his deathbed. So, why live?

His faint heart tried to reason with this thought. He looked at the compassionate face of Mother Mary looking down at the lifeless body of the Christ. He begged for forgiveness kneeling into the wet grass. He felt exhaustion creeping up his body, a numbness that was inexplicable. It seemed to take his burden away, so he gave in to it.

There in the middle of the park, next to the Pieta lies Steve, the moist grass comforting him and the rain soothing him.

He woke up in his bed to the sound of the alarm ringing on his cheap cell phone. He looked at it to see that today was the 8th of September.

RANDOM REVIEW:'UP IN THE AIR'

A GOLDEN GLOBE?...SIX ACADEMY AWARD NOMINATIONS?.....A FOUR STAR REVIEW FROM NONE OTHER THAN ROGER EBERT? GIVE ME A FREAKIN BREAK!!!

This movie is flying so high up in the air(forgive the pun) that i consider it my moral and aesthetic obligation to 'ground it'.Don't let the hype and marketing fool you,this movie,about a corporate downsizer and his adventures is nothing but a romantic comedy.And what is a romantic comedy? Well,its a film where a Hollywood star overcomes certain obstacles to finally unite with 'the one'.Obstacles may differ,characters may vary but the plot invariably remains the same.But nay....we have here,a twist in the end.It seems as though the filmmakers set out on making a Rom com but then thought to themselves,'Hey,we can go places with this one!'

A reviewer suggested that this movie works like 'a meditation on existentialism' as the protagonist realizes the pointlessness of life and decides to enjoy it,albeit selfishly,anyway.Well if that is the case i think that 'National Lampoon's Animal house' should be seen as a 'Treatise on existentialism' but there the characters didn't have a reason or justification for their behaviour. But here,we have a solution to the perils of this philosophy....'Family and friends!'What is this?....a Christmas movie?

One appalling fact of the movie is the shameless way in which the makers have 'borrowed' certain key elements from other sources.Just to name a few,the images of Clooney at the airport,the suitcase anecdote, even the poster are direct thematic lifts from the c.d. jacket of the U2 album 'All that you can't leave behind'.What about the tag line,'The story of a man ready to make connection'? Is it a coincidence that the tag line of the similarly themed but infinitely better 'Lost in translation' was 'Everybody wants to make a connection'?Of course that one had the great Bill murray in it,this one has George clooney.

Another pitfall of the movie is the director's inherent need to impress.An illness which his previous effort,the equally shallow 'Juno' suffered from.If you watch that you'll notice that the movie can be termed as one long B(D)rag.Hey,look at me,i'm a pregnant teen,i speak in witty quips,my family curses at the dinner table,i listen to Sonic youth and watch movies by Dario Argento and Hershel gordon lewis.Over here we have Clooney raving about the intricacies of his job,his gold card,gives us tips on flying...all very informative and somewhat incidental to the plot but are they really necessary?

Both films hover over the real issue without so much as take a taste,and thus cannot be taken seriously.And letting the camera linger on a sobbing employee who's just been fired adds nothing but schmaltz to the end product.

I thought of giving him a chance,of overlooking his deliberately quirky and pretentious movies and give him a chance.Never again..Mr.Clooney...never again.

The kingdom of God is within you

Leo Tolstoy

excerpts from the book

....Men who are used to the existing order of things,who like it and dread its being changed,try to take the doctrine as a collection of revelations and rules which one can accept without their modifying one's life.Whilst Christ's teaching is not only a doctrine which a man must follow,it unfolds a new meaning in life,and defines a whole world of human activity quite different from all that has proceeded it and appropriate to the period on which man is entering....'

....stagnation is death.

.....We think today that the requirements of christian doctrine-of universal brotherhood,suppression of national distinctions,abolition of private property,and the strange injunction of non-resistance to evil by force-demand what is impossible.But it was just the same thousands of years ago,with every social or even family duty,such as the duty of parents to support their children.of the young to maintain the old,of fidelity in marriage.Still more strange and even unreasonable,seemed the state duties of submitting to the appointed authority,paying taxes,and fighting in defence of the country and so on.All such requirements seem simple,comprehensible,and natural,to us today and we see nothing mysterious or alarming in them.But three or five hundred years ago they seemed to require what was impossible.'

'The slavery of antiquity'

'Outlived the age of Christian mysticism'

'The mistaken notion of scientific men that the essence of Christianity consists in the supernatural,and that its moral teaching is impracticable,constitutes another reason of failure of men of the present day to understand Christianity.'

'The ideal is not to desire to do do ill to anyone,not to provoke ill-will,to love all men.The precept,showing the level below which we cannot fall in the attainment of this ideal,is the prohibition of evil-speaking.and this is the first command.The ideal is chastity even in thought..of purity in marriage,avoidance of debauchery.The ideal is to have no thought about the future,to live in the present moment.'

'Christ taught men not angels'

A brief critique

by A brother

The works of Tolstoy have always captivated me though that would seem very strange for a devout Catholic to say.I feel as long as Christianity exists,Tolstoy will be relevant because his books always puts on display a side of us that's 'uncomfortable' and 'latent' but nevertheless 'true'.And this less trodden path of self introspection and justice has to be pursued on a daily basis by every christian because it is only the road to Calvary that leads to liberation.As Tolstoy so eloquently puts it 'stagnation is death'

My one and only complaint is,and has always been that for all the intellectual and academic brilliance that the man exhibits in his works,he always employs an almost puerile argumentative technique especially when it comes to the Church.With a brief stroke of the pen the contributions of the Catholic Church in the past 2000 years are stricken off,the Francis Assiss of the world,the Father Damiens,the Mother Teresas,the hundreds and thousands of priests and Nuns who have always stood for the downtrodden and neglected albeit in secret are told,'Well,you just missed the boat!'.And what about the myriad 'ignorant' religious laity who lived such blessed and fulfilling lives around 'their' church?Well,they might well be burning in hell!(which incidentally does not exist).All this is done in a language and tone that is laced with so much contempt and malice that his writings on love and forgiveness sometimes become a parody of himself.

When Tolstoy rejects the divine truths of The Trinity,the resurrection,the motherhood of The Blessed Virgin,the necessity of God's grace etc. by sighting sacred scripture,he does exactly what every crafty,two bit pseudo evangelist has been doing for years,that of quoting the favourable and leaving the unfavourable unsaid.

However,if you can get past the 'Catholic bashing',you should certainly give Tolstoy a place in your Christian library.I genuinely feel that a book by Tolstoy can do more good than ten Christian books written in the heights of some fleeting religious fervour.

Ronnie James Dio (born Ronald James Padavona; July 10, 1942 – May 16, 2010)

A STATE OF ROCK

IF YOU AIN'T PRO LIFE

YOU'RE PRO DEATH.

THINGS I LEARNED FROM MALAYALAM CINEMA!!!!

1.YOU DON'T WORK FOR A BOSS WHO OWNS A PET CROCODILE.

2.YOU CAN'T START A TRAVEL AGENCY NAMED "GAFOOR TRAVELS" AND THEN EXPECT BUSINESS TO 'FLOURISH'.

3.ADOPTED CHILDREN INVARIABLY 'TURN' ON YOU,THIS IS PROBABLY BECAUSE THEY COME FROM ORPHANAGES WHICH ARE ALWAYS UNDERFUNDED AND DEPRIVED.

4.ILLICIT SEX ALWAYS LEADS TO MURDER.

5.YOU DON'T MESS WITH THE GUY WHO KNOWS HOW TO WALK IN 'SLOW MOTION'.

6.YOU DON'T CALL THE COPS FOR HELP,UNLESS THE OFFICER IN CHARGE REPEATEDLY USES THE WORD 'SHIT' FOR NO APPARENT REASON.

7.THE PEOPLE IN THE VILLAGES ARE NAIVE AND INNOCENT WHILE CITY DWELLERS ARE INSENSITIVE IMMORAL PIGS.

8.THE INDIAN LEGAL SYSTEM IS THE MOST EFFICIENT JUDICIAL BODY IN THE WORLD, WITH QUICKFIRE DISPOSAL OF CASES PRESIDED OVER BY INFINITELY PATIENT JUDGES WHO ARE MORE THAN WILLING TO ALLOW LAWYERS DELIVER DIGRESSIVE AND NEVER ENDING MELODRAMATIC SPEECHES.

9.IMPOSTORS ALWAYS FIND THEMSELVES IN COMEDIC SITUATIONS AND ARE ACTUALLY 'GOOD' PEOPLE WITH THE 'BEST' OF INTENTIONS.

10.'FOREIGNERS' ARE NOT ACTUALLY PEOPLE.THEY ARE A BUNCH OF SEXUALLY PROMISCUOUS,MORALLY DECADENT GROUP OF FREAKS WHO ARE PUT AMONGST US TO BE RIDICULED AND SET STRAIGHT BY US ENLIGHTENED ONES.

11.A THUNDERSTORM,A RAGING SEA IS ALWAYS INDICATIVE OF THE MENTAL TURMOIL AND ANGUISH THAT IS BEING ENDURED BY 'AN' INDIVIDUAL.

13.AN AUTOMOBILE COMES TO A HALT ONLY AFTER IT IS PRECEDED BY A SCREECHING NOISE.

14.ONLY WOMEN CAN BE FOUND GUILTY OF INFIDELITY.

15.'CHILDREN WRONG -PARENTS RIGHT' AND IN SOME CASES 'PARENTS RIGHT-CHILDREN WRONG.'

GOODNESS GRACIOUS

IN THE MANSION WHERE WE ALL HOPE FOR ROOM TO FIND,
THE POOR WIDOW WILL ALWAYS HAVE HER SHARE.
FOR WHEN WE GAVE SO LITTLE AND LEFT SO MUCH BEHIND,
SHE GAVE EVERYTHING AND NOT JUST WHAT SHE COULD SPARE.

THE MORE WE GIVE IN THE NAME OF CHARITY,
WILL ONE DAY PROVE TO BE FAR TOO LESS.
THEY WERE LIKE OFFERINGS MADE BY THE CRAFTY PHARISEE.
WHOSE EFFORTS WERE MADE BUT ONLY TO IMPRESS.

'She's My Rushmore,Max'

IN THE NAME OF GRACE

I DO NOT SING IN PRAISE OF THOSE GREAT WARRIORS OF OLD,

WHO FOUGHT BRAVE BATTLES ON BLOODY BATTLEFIELDS.

FOR SOME WERE FOUGHT FOR WOMEN AND SOME FOR PRECIOUS GOLD,

AND SOME FOR TOWERING EGO TO WHICH NO ONE EVER YIELDS.

I DO NOT TEACH OF LIFE AND DEATH,

OF LESSONS OF EXPERIENCE THAT ALL SHOULD LEARN.

FOR THEY ARE CAPRICIOUS MASTERS AND DISLOYAL SERVANTS

AND HENCE ARE NEVER OF MY CONCERN.

I DO NOT WEEP FOR THE LOVER WHO CAME AND WENT

NOR FOR THE FRIEND WHICH TIME AND CHANCE ONCE BROUGHT.

FOR ALL MY SINS THIS I DO HEREBY CONFESS,

THAT I TRULY DID NOT LOVE THEM AND THEY TRULY LOVED ME NOT.

I DO NOT QUOTE MEN OF GREAT UNDERSTANDING,

THEIR WORDS OF WISDOM I NEVER DO BORROW.

FOR I AM MYSELF NEITHER THIS NOR THAT

AND THEY MAY WELL BE PROVED WRONG TOMORROW.

AND SO IF NOTES ARE PLAYED IN MELODIOUS TUNE,

AND WORDS ARE PUT IN RHYMES OF UNBROKEN CHAIN.

IF CHARACTERS ARE CREATED AND STORIES TOLD,

AND COLOURS COME ALIVE ON THE CANVASS PLANE.

THEN IT IS FOR HER,

IT IS FOR HER THAT THESE LABOURS OF EXPRESSION

THESE SHRINES OF GRATITUDE HAVE BEEN ERECTED.

IT IS OF THE BEST THAT THESE FRAIL HANDS CAN OFFER

THOUGH FROM ME NOTHING IS EXPECTED.

THIS IS A PICTURE OF FORMER PRO WRESTLER CHRIS BENOIT.IT WAS TAKEN BY A FAN JUST HOURS BEFORE HE WENT ON A MURDEROUS RAMPAGE KILLING HIS WIFE NANCY AND 7 YEAR OLD SON DANIEL.HE LATER PROCEEDED TO HANG HIMSELF THE NEXT DAY.INVESTIGATORS HAVE CONCLUDED THAT THE REPEATED CONCUSSIONS HE SUSTAINED DURING HIS CAREER DAMAGED HIS BRAIN TO SUCH AN EXTENT THAT IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE HE WENT OVER THE EDGE.

MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON HIS SOUL.

I WISH I WAS BORN IN AMERICA SO I COULD MAKE OUT WITH GIRLS HALF MY AGE.I WISH I WAS BORN IN THE U.K SO I COULD LOOK DOWN ON THE 'UNCIVILIZED ASIAN'.I WISH I WAS BORN AN AUSTRALIAN SO I COULD 'PRACTICE MULTICULTURALISM' BY BEATING UP EVERY MULTI COLORED FOREIGNER THAT COMES MY WAY.BUT ALAS....I AM AN INDIAN.DOESN'T THAT JUST SUCK?

WHEN YOU KILL A MAN YOU ARE A MURDERER,
KILL MANY AND YOU ARE A CONQUEROR
KILL 'EM ALL AND YOU ARE....GEORGE W. BUSH.

RANDOM REVIEW:MEGADETH 'ENDGAME '
Now let's be realistic.
This is a band that's about two decades old,been through a dozen line up changes,faced a creative dead end(RISK) and was even dissolved for a short while,any band that puts a record after that is clearly being....how shall i put it?...... optimistic? but then again when your name is 'Dave mustaine' and you 'are' the band the strangest of things can happen.
"Endgame" is a throwback at the old days when it was thrash and not the cash that mattered,but its not even close to their best work as some reviewers may have you believe,its just that no one expected Mustaine to have any fight left in him.And no i wont waste your time by talking about Heitfield and co. because talking about Death magnetic in an 'endgame' review would be giving the former too much credit,besides i think the 'dumped from Metallica' card is overplayed by the media,sometimes even by Mustaine himself. Now the songs
The album kicks off with a 2 and a half minute instrumental named Dialectic chaos which is utter chaos in total control,both Mustaine and new guy Chris broderick exchange solos like they were born to play with each other,its guitar duelling at its best,hard to believe that it doesn't even cross the 3 minute mark as it seems to go on forever,the only problem i have with the song is that the opening riff sounds too much like the start of Wolfmother's 'Joker and the thief'(maybe its just me!) Next comes This day we fight! a sonic assault of Rust in peace proportions! there's so much happening on this track that you almost can't keep up.The snarling vocals complement the theme perfectly but the melody or lack of it shows when your just spitting out the malevolent lyrics and that keeps it from being a true classic.44 minutes,a song about a doomed bank heist comes next,the song could have been so much more had it not been for the trite lyrics and awful vocals.Just when you think you know where the album is headed comes 1320,a song about drag racing and it works on every level,you end up crossing the finish line triumphant and wiping the sweat of your brow.What follows is 'Bite the hand' a tame but altogether satisfying track.Next on is 'Bodies left behind' a song that has a chorus ripped off from 'Disconnect' of the 'The world needs a hero' album,Mustaine tries to make up for this by delivering a frustratingly short but sublime outro.The title track comes on next and i think this song really reflects the general attitude of the album in that they don't try to make it easily accessible,on the contrary they make it complex and musically layered demanding your respect and definitely another listen.In fact its ominous opening and chugga chugga rhythm structure reminded me of something straight out of the pre C.T.E. era.The twisted ballad called The hardest part of letting go...sealed with a kiss is nothing major but definitely no filler.I think it was put in to enhance the 'head crushing' effect of the next track which was the lead single of the album,though it sounds like a second rate 'sleepwalker' i can envision metal heads banging their heads to the chorus.'How the story ends' is another strong effort with an infectious chorus and Lord of the rings inspired lyrics.The story actually ends with 'The right to go insane' which sounds forced and uninspired at best.
In conclusion,when one stands atop mountains like RIP and Peace sells,Endgame might seem insignificant and passable but this album proves that Megadeth is still a relevant band unlike Metallica.Its not just a few great songs that make a great band,its longevity too and in that respect Megadeth has won it fair and square.

LISTEN TO THIS BEFORE YOU DIE!

1.AVE MARIA(FRANZ SHUBERT)
2.HALLOWED BE THY NAME(IRON MAIDEN)
3.I STILL CAN'T FIND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR(U2)
4.ONE(U2)
5.ONE(METALLICA)
6.BLITZKRIEG BOP(THE RAMONES)
7.SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND(PINK FLOYD)
8.LIGHT MY FIRE(THE DOORS)
9.RAINING BLOOD(SLAYER)
10.BURN(DEEP PURPLE)
11.STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN(LED ZEPPLIN)
12.HOLY WARS...THE PUNISHMENT DUE(MEGADETH)
13.WAR PIGS(BLACK SABBATH)
13.GOD ONLY KNOWS(THE BEACH BOYS)
14.THUNDER ROAD(BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN)
15.LIKE A ROLLING STONE(BOB DYLAN)
16.HANGAR 18(MEGADETH)
17.TANGLED UP IN BLUE(BOB DYLAN)
18.MASTER OF PUPPETS(METALLICA)
19.BORN TO RUN(BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN)
20.BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY(QUEEN)
21.BAT OUT OF HELL(MEATLOAF)
22.ROMEO AND JULIET(DIRE STRAITS)
23.BEAT IT(MICHEAL JACKSON)
24,SULTANS OF SWING(DIRE STRAITS)
25.NOVEMBER RAIN(GUNS 'N' ROSES)
26.ACE OF SPADES(MOTORHEAD)
27.STARGAZER(RAINBOW)
28.AM I EVIL(DIAMOND HEAD)
29.BROWN EYED GIRL(VAN MORRISON)
30.ROOSTER(ALICE IN CHAINS)
31.REDEMPTION SONG(BOB MARLEY)
32.FADE TO BLACK(METALLICA)
33.WITH OR WITHOUT YOU(U2)
34.KILLED BY DEATH(MOTORHEAD)
35.THE TROOPER(IRON MAIDEN)
36.WATERLOO SUNSET(THE KINKS)
37.VICTIM OF CHANGES(JUDAS PRIEST)
38.N.I.B.(BLACK SABBATH)
39.BABA O' REILY(THE WHO)
40.DESOLATION ROW(BOB DYLAN)
41.HIGHWAY TO HELL(AC DC)
42.CAUGHT IN A MOSH(ANTHRAX)
43.REMEMBER TOMORROW(IRON MAIDEN)
44.THE CRYSTAL SHIP(THE DOORS)
45.DIRTY DEEDS DONE DIRT CHEAP(AC DC)
46.BEYOND THE REALMS OF DEATH(JUDAS PRIEST)
47.BEAUTIFUL DAY(U2)
48.PRIDE(U2)
49.WALK THE LINE(JOHNNY CASH)
50.SOUTH OF HEAVEN(SLAYER)
51.FERNANDO(ABBA)
52.MELLISA(MERCIFUL FATE)
53.PEACE SELLS...BUT WHO'S BUYING?(MEGADETH)
54.HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE(BEEGEES)
55.HAMMER SMASHED FACE(CANNIBAL CORPSE)
56.LET'S GET IT ON(MARVIN GAYE)
57.BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER(SIMON AND GARFUNKEL)
58.HIGH HOPES(PINK FLOYD)
59.PATHOGENIC OCULAR DISSONANCE(TOURNIQUET)
60.IN A GAGA DA VIDA(IRON BUTTERFLY)
61.HURT(JOHNNY CASH)
62.BORN TO RUN(BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN)
63.GOLDEN HEART(MARK KNOPFLER)
64.SOMEONE SAVED MY LIFE TONIGHT(ELTON JOHN)
65.BALLS TO THE WALL(ACCEPT)
66.DON'T STOP BELIEVING(JOURNEY)
67.BABY,I LOVE YOUR WAY(PETER FRAMPTON)
68.EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE(THE POLICE)
69.UNDER THE OAK(CANDLEMASS)
70.I GOT YOU BABE(SONNY AND CHER)
71.SPACE ODDITY(DAVID BOWIE)
72.BLACK DOG(LED ZEPPLIN)
73.CEMETARY GATES(PANTERA)
74.CORTEZ THE KILLER(NEIL YOUNG)
75.ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER(JIMI HENDRIX)
76.STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER(THE BEATLES)
77.LET IT BE(THE BEATLES)
78.READ MY MIND(THE KILLERS)
79.SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT(NIRVANA)
80..ZOMBIE RITUAL(DEATH)
81.RETURN OF THE VAMPIRE(MERCIFUL FATE)
82.WALK(PANTERA)
83.WHEN THE MAN COMES AROUND(JOHNNY CASH)
84.KEEPER OF THE SEVEN KEYS(HELLOWEEN)
85.THE END(THE DOORS)
86.THE KKK TOOK MY BABY AWAY(THE RAMONES)
87.HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN(THE ANIMALS)
88.THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN(THIN LIZZY)
89.OH PRETTY WOMAN(RAY ORBISON)
90.STILL LOVING YOU(THE SCORPIONS)
91.HELL BENT FOR LEATHER(JUDAS PRIEST)
92.TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART(BONNIE TYLER)
93.I'LL NEVER FIND ANOTHER YOU(THE SEEKERS)
94.THE BOXER(SIMON AND GARFUNKEL)
95.LOSE YOURSELF(EMINEM)
96.THE SOUND OF SILENCE(SIMON AND GARFUNKEL)
97.WALK THIS WAY(RUN DMC FEAT AEROSMITH)
98.JUST LIKE HEAVEN(THE CURE)
00.LET THERE BE ROCK(AC DC)
100.MOTHER MARY(UFO)
...................OK,NOW YOU CAN DIE.

WELCOME TO AM'S NEW BLOG.
AM
CECIL JOY ABRAHAM.
CINISH P. ABRAHAM.
CYRIL ABRAHAM.
TONY THOMAS VARKEY.
JERRY MARYGRACE.

AVE MARIA

Ave maria,gratia plena,Dominus tecum.Benedicta tu in mulieribus,et benedictus fructus ventris tui,Iesus.Sancta Maria,Mater Dei,ora pro nobis peccatoribus,nunc,et in hora mortis nostrae.Amen