With increasing frequency, a litany of strange packages began arriving in my mail recently. Inside were, and continue to be, a series of very strange discs, entitled, Rockabye Baby!, that purport to be rock tunes made into lullabies. My first reaction? Smoking crack, as well all well saw in the 90's, can be a terrible, terrible thing.

Book collector Jeff Wong thinks the coolest collector's edition of <I>OTR</I> would be a limited reproduction of the scroll. Me too, although I'm sure I couldn't afford one.

"Congratulations," the comment began.

These don't sound fantastic, but it's not like washing test-tubes is all that hunky-dory.

I have a full-length commute. It lasts just about as long as an album. For instance, if I plug in the iPod and press play on Dinosaur Jr.'s <i>Beyond</i> just as I leave my apartment, the album comes to a glorious end exactly as I enter our office's elevators. This was a great discovery.

That just seems so wrong. But the article is a reasonable excuse to link to <A HREF="http://www.scaryideas.com/print/2698/">this</A&gt;.

Ichiro Suzuki of the Seattle Mariners may be our era's Yogi Berra.