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I just finished reading through the script.

Light's name is Luke.

The entire concept of shinigami was removed.

On Feb. 5, 1958, during a simulated combat mission near Savannah, Georgia, a B-47 bomber collided with an F-86 fighter. The fighter crashed; the bomber, barely airworthy, needed to reduce weight to avoid an emergency landing.

So it dropped a 7,600-pound nuclear bomb.

The bomb contained 400 pounds of conventional explosives and highly enriched uranium. There’s some disagreement as to whether it included the plutonium capsule needed to start a nuclear reaction.

That’s rather important, because in 50 years of searching the Air Force still hasn’t found the bomb. It hit the water near Tybee Island off the Georgia coast and is presumably buried in 10 feet of silt somewhere in Wassaw Sound. But exactly where it is, and how dangerous it is, remain unknown.

My Madeline! my Madeline!
Mark my melodious midnight moans,
Much may my melting music mean,
My modulated monotones.

My mandolin’s mild minstrelsy,
My mental music magazine,
My mouth, my mind, my memory,
Must mingling murmur “Madeline.â€

Muster ‘mid midnight masquerade,
Mark Moorish maidens, matrons’ mien;
‘Mongst Murcia’s most majestic maids,
Match me my matchless Madeline.

Mankind’s malevolence may make
Much melancholy musing mine;
Many my motives may mistake,
My modest merits much malign.

My Madeline’s most mirthful mood
Much mollifies my mind’s machine;
My mournfulness’s magnitude
Melts–make me merry, Madeline!

Match-making ma’s may machinate,
Manoeuvring misses me misween;
Mere money may make many mate,
My magic motto’s “Madeline.â€

Melt, most mellifluous melody,
‘Midst Murcia’s misty mounts marine;
Meet me ‘mid moonlight–marry me,
Madonna mia! My Madeline!

I: Say whatever the **** you want.

II: You can buy a gun so you can keep the King of England out of your face.

III: We can’t force you to let soldiers crash at your place.

IV: The government needs a reason to go through your ****. A good reason.

V: If you break the law, you don’t have to admit it.

VI: You always get to talk to your lawyer first.

VII: You can let 12 randoms decide your fate instead of a judge.

VIII: The government can’t do Jack Bauer **** to you.

IX: You have rights we don’t talk about here. Like, if you get your girlfriend pregnant, you can take her to Planned Parenthood.

X: The states have rights too. We’re gonna ignore them, though.

XI: States don’t have to pay their debts. Good luck if one owes you money.

XII: So, we ****ed up the 1800 election, but they’re gonna run smoothly from here on out, we promise.

XIII: If you do work, they gotta pay you.

XIV: Everyone is equal under the law. Good luck if you live in the South though.

XV: Black people can vote. But white people can still try hard to prevent them from from doing so.

XVI: Sorry, gotta pay taxes

XVII: State legislatures can’t elect senators. Nobody pays attention to state assembly races.

XVIII: You can’t drink.

XIX: Women can vote. They’re smarter than us, anyway.

XX: If the president dies, somebody who got elected should probably replace him.

XXI: Fine, you can drink.

XXII: The president can only serve two terms. Otherwise we’d be England, and we still think they suck.

XXIII: If you live in Washington, DC, you get to vote for president. Only the Democratic candidate, though.

XXIV: Now it’s a little harder to prevent black people from voting.

XXV: If the president dies, the new president can appoint a VP. Otherwise the Speaker of the House would take over, and he’s usually an idiot.

XXVI: College kids can vote for president. They actually care about that ****.

XXVII: It’s harder for Congress to give itself a pay raise. They’ll still do it, though.

You can actually change your mood on KHV! Amazing little feature, really.

Complete lyrics to the world’s shortest song, “You Suffer†by British grindcore band Napalm Death:

“You suffer–but why?â€

It’s 1.316 seconds long.

Fun times.

Seriously.

http://vimeo.com/6747788