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Below is a list I put together from this list of untouchables (or rather, if you touch it, you’re phuqed):

3 Doors Down — Be Like That

Yea, because that’s on everyone’s must-have list.

Billy Idol — Dancing with Myself

Uhh, does anyone know anyone that will admit to knowing anyone that has ever listened to any of his songs? And I don’t mean his cameo in The Wedding Singer.

Dr. Dre — Don’t Forget about Dre

I’m really not jiggy with it anymore (being an Adult Real Person® and all) but who are these guys kidding? I talked to Jason, we think something like the following happened:

Person A: “uhh, our list isn’t complete”
Person B: “I know exactly what we need, a washed-out, has-been gangsta from one of them coasts”
Both together: “Dr. Dre”

DURAN DURAN — Hungry Like the Wolf

If you get caught swapping Duran Duran files you deserve to be beaten like a Mexican pinata on Cinco de Mayo.

Any song by Green Day. You are lamer than that “L” chick in Smashmouth’s All Star song.

Ice Cube — You Can Do It

Actually, just using his name is a tacit endorsement for such unoriginal nomenclatures. Someone should call me Colloidal Fog or Homogenous Pepper or Universal Solvent. Hell, if you want to be as basic as a physical property, just call me Liquid Aqua: sup jefe.

Jennifer Lopez — Play

I will personally build the rubber-band gun that shoots your rumpage out of Dodge. You need to read up on what constitutes “thinking” and “cognition.”

Madonna — Material Girl

Isn’t that like her “big” song? C’mon RIAA, are you that petty? I’m not sure about you, but I’m fairly certain that every person, whether they are Joe Tribesman in Sub-Saharan Africa or Paco the Chilean migrant all deserve to hear Breathless Mahoney in action. It’s a universal right…

Anything by Michael Jackson, if you are caught you deserve to have your picture taken, pasted in every woman’s bathroom with the words “I am a eunuch” written on top of your forehead and ultimately cock-blocked for life.

Paula Abdul — Cold Hearted

Hmm, I’m fairly certain that Ms. Paula is starving to death in some Gotham-like ghetto because you’re depriving her of millions in royalties each and every year. You’re cold hearted and a sick bastard.

Ricky Martin — Livin’ La Vida Loca

How much do you want to wager that your average Kazaa user thinks that “Livin’ La Vida Loca” is about a story of a local female video store clerk who lives in New York City and goes insane after drinking too much bubbly, gets butt ass naked in the middle of 5th Avenue and does some weird cranial surgery at night — I rest my case.

U2, they didn’t even list one that is remotely popular to anyone outside of whatever Ivory Tower the executives at the RIAA live in. Or rather, maybe Bono truly thinks that “All I Want Is You” is uber popular among the krazy kats here in America (actually, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For is the first song I download each time I install Kazaa on a computer).

Van Halen — Hot for Teacher

So my question is, which member is alive and can form a sentence (note: a sentence for the purposes of this exercise involves using 3 words similar in style to ‘run spot run’)? Does this hint at the high intellectual level these melacious “pirates” are operating at? I think even baby Jebus would cut them some slack.

Wyclef Jean — Guantanamera

Now this is a personal favorite. Back in high school spanish class we would sing this (though, in a non-profit sense, no one made mucho dinero cuando habla la musica magnifica). Truthfully, who doesn’t already know all 1723 spanglish words to Guantanamera? De donde crecen las palmas…

So in summation, with the sole exception of MC Hammer’s 2 Legit 2 Quit, I am convinced that the individuals that are caught, prosecuted, detained and executed for the villainous crimes of holding, trading and copying these files, had it coming to them. You should all be whipped with a soggy noodle and burned by itty bitty magnifying glasses like the little petulant ant you are.

Oh and I’m also wondering if any artist not listed here is going to be upset, after all, they’re livelihoods are also at stake… I mean bands like Pink and Tamia are certainly in much higher demand than Marky Mark and Vanilla Ice, right?

A couple weeks ago I went over to the Weblogs Ping Form and manually entered in a couple of websites including The Inquirer and The Register. For those unfamiliar with how the Blogshares market simulation works, here’s a quick breakdown: a program (bot) scans each of the sites that ping Weblogs.com and then adds new ones to an ever growing database.

This database in turn places each weblog into the Blogshares marketplace and is within a few weeks time, a publicly traded entity (the value of each blog is dependent upon how many other blogs link to it and unsurprisingly, The Register is quite popular among geek bloggers).

Sure you can say I was pretty damn bored, but it’s poetic justice — individuals like Mr. Orlowski continually bash weblogs as a terrible, rotten nymphomania disorder, yet the very site he publishes such diatribes is by definition, a weblog.

Now that I have an inkling of your attention, here is a simple explanation for what a weblog is: a site that publishes content in reverse chronological order, some of which includes hyperlinks to other content/sites/blogs/etc. It can be topical or entirely helter skelter and is usually updated once a month or so (the word “often” comes to mind).

The Register runs about a dozen stories each day, all in reverse chronological order. Many of the stories include links to other content/sites/blogs/etc. And, it is geared towards management information systems and technology.

Sure it might not be as community oriented as Slashdot or Kuro5hin, but there are other ways to tell how popular it is from a blogging perspective. Look at the Technorati, Organica, Popdex and Google results.

That’s right, holy beeping scheise batman.

Maybe all this time Orlowski has been trying to hint to his editors, to allow more teenage girls to freelance for them… or maybe Andrew Orlowski is Andrea Orloudski, an average 16 year-old gal from the suburbs of the Midwest.

It’s elementary my dear Watson.