Here is the current chart position of Unbreakable:
Germany: # 1
Japan: # 1
Here is the current chart position of Unbreakable:
Germany: # 1
Japan: # 1
Q. When does a ghost have breakfast? A. In the moaning.
Q. What do ghosts drink at breakfast? A. Coffee with scream and sugar.
Q. Where does a ghost go on vacation? A. Mali-boo.
Q. Where does a ghost go on Saturday night? A. Anywhere where he can boo-gie.
Q. Where did the ghost get it's hair done? A: At the boo-ty shop.
Q. Riddle: the maker does not want, it the buyer does not use it, and the user does not see it, what is it? A. a coffin.
Q. What do they teach in witching school? A. Spelling.
The Last Ride
by Paul Melniczek
She lifted up her head and peered outside through the frosted window. Wrinkled eyes gazed into the bright sky, and a smile came over the old woman’s face when she saw the full moon, shining away in all it’s harvest glory, a perfect background setting for All Hallow’s Eve.
A loud purring reached her ears as a black cat leaped up on the table next to the rocking chair she was sitting in.
"Yes, my sweets. Isn’t that a pretty night we have in store for us? Old man moon looks down on us with a wink in his eye tonight."
The cat stared at her with deep green eyes, attention fixed on every word.
"You know what this night means, don’t you, Trickster?" The cat let out a soft meow, listening to his master.
"It is the passing of an age, that is what. Many long years, happy memories, but there is an ending to every story, good and bad. Ol’ Madge here has seen it all, yes I have."
The old woman pushed herself up from the chair, one gnarled hand stroking the silken fur of Trickster. There was a creaking noise as old bones cracked within the ancient body, stiff joints groaning in protest at the effort made by her to straighten up.
"Ah, this craggy old girl ain’t what she used to be. Need a dose of the ointment before I go, that’ll fix me for a little while."
Madge walked over towards a large oaken trunk that was filled with an assortment of herbs, spices, animal parts, jarred collections of insects, packaged powders, and numerous other odds and ends. They were the tools of her trade.
Rummaging through the contents, she found a sachet containing some brown colored leaves, and when she opened it a sweet odor wafted outwards.
"Hmm, this will do fine." The crone went over to a wooden cabinet which had vials of liquid scattered about the shelves. She grabbed a tube with a bubbly fluid inside with a purple tinge to it, and then poured the leaves in.
Wispy curls of vapor rose up, and the old woman drank deeply.
A look of revulsion crossed her face at the bitter taste, but she shook it off.
"Not the fountain of youth, but it bestows on me a glimmer of strength, and that is all I need." She smacked her dry lips together, and smiled with glee.
Madge hobbled over to the great stone fireplace that warmed the cottage, and a black cauldron was resting above the burning flames. A green liquid boiled away in a frenzy, fat bubbles oozing from the surface. She stirred the mixture with a metal ladle.
"Double, bubble, toil and trouble!"
"Double, bubble, toil and trouble!’
Cackling with delight, the old woman churned the foul broth with renewed vigor. The cauldron hissed in answer, and the brew began to fizzle over.
"Ha ha, that’s it. A ghastly potion for a ghostly night!"
Madge nodded to herself, and the flames danced before her, casting lurid shadows on the walls of the cottage.
The image behind the cat grew in size, reaching the proportions of a great beast which was many times the feline’s actual body shape.
Trickster growled, his dark mane bristling. The master made a gesture in the air, and the front door burst open as the black cat sprang into the night, the transformation beginning to take place. A howl echoed from the woods outside, and Madge shouted in response, the language old and archaic.
"Rejoice in the wild, my pet. The night calls. Until the sun comes up, when you must return."
A gust of wind blasted against the cottage, slamming the door shut with a loud crash. The old woman’s wizened face had a trace of sadness on it, and she let out a deep sigh.
"It is almost time, must make haste."
Madge opened the closet and reached inside, tenderly bringing out a worn garb, black as the night. A tear trickled from the corner of an eye, moistening the callused cheek beneath.
"So many years, where have they all gone? How will I be able to face the next one, knowing that my time is done?"
She pulled the raiment tightly about herself, cherishing the feel of the familiar outfit. The cloak gave her comfort and security.
"Such little time, and too many things to fill it with, ‘tis a pity."
There was an upper shelf inside the closet, and from this she brought out a rumpled black hat, pointed at the top in the shape of a narrow cone.
"Hee hee hee," she chuckled. "A pointed cone for a crooked crone." She set the hat on her head, and brushed back the strands of silver hair that lay tangled down to her shoulders. She began to feel much younger and stronger, but it was only wishful thinking. Potions could give her a teasing of both, but that was it.
Madge crossed to the other side of the room, wooden floor boards creaking underneath her musty black boots. The heels clicked softly with her passing.
A reading desk sat in the corner, and a dusty tome sprawled along the top. Strange words and symbols were etched onto the crinkled pages, the lettering written in blood. She leafed through until she found the proper incantation, then closed the book with a snap.
"Long ago, I could recite nearly every line of verse in half that script. But now....." The old woman shook her head, again being overcome with remorse.
"More’s the pity, old hag, I’ve had my turn. The wheels of time roll on without stopping, and my moment has arrived to step aside. Only fond memories, no regrets."
The old woman’s gaze wandered the trappings of the cottage, her domain for countless years. Yes, fate had treated her well, there was no denial.
"And now, my friend, who has served me so well these many years. Will you answer the summons yet again, on this night of all nights?
Madge spread her arms wide in appeal, pale yellow eyes closed in concentration. The wind picked up outside, and tree branches scratched against the window panes, bent stick arms moving in wooden animation, responding to the surge of dark power that was building within the cottage.
There was a flash of brilliance radiating from a section of stone next to the fireplace, and a secret panel was revealed. From the compartment emerged a long broom, stark in opaque blackness, levitating towards the old woman.
"Ha ha ha, come to me! It is our time again. The sisters await!"
The broom continued floating, and it came within the crone’s eager grasp as it throbbed with power, pulsating with diabolical energy.
Madge held the broom up triumphantly, and opened the front door. A strong breeze was blowing, and fallen leaves covered the mossy earth. Sinister figures crouched within the surrounding shadows, lurking among the trees.
It was Halloween night, and spirits of the nights had awakened in unholy celebration.
Madge sat astride the enchanted broom, and up she flew to meet with her fellow sisters of the coven. This was her last time as the coven leader, and a new one would be sworn in this Hallow’s Eve.
She gazed up at the awaiting sky, spotting others of her wicked brethren. It was Halloween night, and for the last time, into that magical night, rode the form of the witch, on her last moonlight ride.
Copyrights Reserved by Mr. Paul Melniczek
Original Link : http://www.halloweenghoststories.com/halloween/halloween1-1.html
KARACHI, Pakistan - A top provincial security official said Friday that the suicide attack onbore the hallmarks of an -linked, pro- warlord based near the Afghan border.
President Gen.labeled the attack part of a "conspiracy against democracy," reaching out to the former prime minister with whom he is trying to forge a pro-U.S., anti-militant alliance.
The "signature at the blast site and the modus operandi" suggested the involvement of militants linked to warlord Baitullah Mehsud and, said Ghulam Muhammad Mohtarem, the head security official in the province where Mehsud is based.
"We were already fearing a strike from Mehsud and his local affiliates and this were conveyed to the (Bhutto's's) People's Party but they got carried away by political exigencies instead of taking our concern seriously," Mohtarem said.
There was no claim of responsibility for the bombing of Bhutto's convoy, which killed up to 136 people as she triumphantly paraded through her hometown ofThursday.
On the eve of her return from eight years in self-imposed exile, a provincial government official had cited intelligence reports that three suicide bombers linked to Mehsud were in Karachi. The local government had also warned Bhutto could be targeted by Taliban or al-Qaida.
Local media reports this month quoted Mehsud — probably the most prominent leader of Islamic militants destabilizing its northwestern border regions near Afghanistan — as vowing to meet Bhutto's return to Pakistan with suicide attacks.
It remained unclear if the attack would stiffen Bhutto and Musharraf's resolve to fight militancy together or strain the already bad relations between Bhutto and the ruling party supporting Musharraf.
Bhutto's husband said on Dawn News television that he suspected "elements sitting within the government," who would lose out if Bhutto returned to power, were involved in the bombing.
He didn't elaborate, though Bhutto has accused conservatives in the ruling Pakistan Muslim League-Q party and the security services of secretly supporting religious extremists. Bhutto has made enemies of Islamic militants by taking a pro-U.S. line and negotiating a possible alliance with Musharraf, who is detested by militants for his alliance with the Bush administration.
Musharraf and Bhutto have been longtime rivals despite their shared liberal values, but his camp said he was "deeply shocked" by the midnight explosions, which went off near the armored truck carrying Bhutto, tearing victims apart and throwing a fireball into the night sky.
Officials at six hospitals in Karachi reported 136 dead and around 250 wounded, making it one of the deadliest bombings in Pakistan's history. Karachi police chief Azhar Farooqi said that 113 people died, including 20 policemen, and that 300 people were wounded. It was not immediately possible to reconcile the death tolls.
The attack shattered the windows of the truck but police said Bhutto was unhurt and was hurried to her house. An Associated Press photo showed a dazed-looking Bhutto being helped away from the scene.
The general "condemned this attack in the strongest possible words. He said this was a conspiracy against democracy," the state-run Associated Press ofsaid.
Musharraf appealed for calm, promised an exhaustive investigation and stiff punishment for those responsible, APP reported.
Presidential spokesman Rashid Qureshi said he doubted the attack would deflect Bhutto from her move toward an alliance with Musharraf, who seized power in a coup and has been under growing pressure to return Pakistan to a more democratic system.
"If someone thinks that by spreading this kind of terror they will stop the political process in Pakistan, I don't think that's correct, I don't think that will happen," Qureshi told The AP.
Musharraf won re-election to the presidency in a vote by lawmakers this month that is being challenged in the Supreme Court. If he is confirmed for a new five-year presidential term, Musharraf has promised to quit the military and restore civilian rule.
Musharraf believes that "all political forces need to combine to face this (militant) threat which is basically the major, major issue that faces Pakistan," Qureshi said.
Leaders of Bhutto's Pakistan People's Party were meeting at herresidence Friday, and Bhutto was expected to hold a news conference afterward.
Police were collecting forensic evidence — picking up pieces of flesh and discarded shoes — from the site of the bombing. The truck was hoisted away using a crane. One side of the truck, including a big portrait of the former premier was splattered with blood and riddled with shrapnel holes.
Interior Minister Aftab Khan Sherpao said 18 police died in the attack, and two police vehicles on the left side of Bhutto's truck had borne the brunt of the blast.
He said authorities had done everything possible to protect the huge gathering, but noted that electronic jammers fitted to the police escort vehicles were ineffective against a manually detonated bomb.
In Karachi, which lies in the far south of Pakistan but has been buffeted by militant attacks in recent years, schools were closed and traffic was thin, with residents wary of venturing into the streets.
Unrest broke in two districts but did not appear serious. Hundreds of Bhutto supporters hurled stones at vehicles and shops during a funeral procession for two victims, forcing police to cordon off the area. Elsewhere, Bhutto supporters ordered shops to close and burned tires in the road.
Bhutto had paved her route back to Pakistan through negotiations with Musharraf that yielded an amnesty covering the corruption charges that made Bhutto leave Pakistan.
Authorities had warned Bhutto that extremists sympathetic to theand could target her in Karachi and urged her in vain to use a helicopter to reduce the risk.
"I am not scared. I am thinking of my mission," she had told reporters on the plane from.
On arrival, she told AP Television News she was fighting for democracy and to help this nuclear-armed country of 160 million people defeat the extremism that gave it the reputation as a hotbed of international terrorism.
"That's not the real image of Pakistan," she said.
Leaving the airport, Bhutto refused to use the bulletproof glass cubicle that had been built atop the truck taking her toward the tomb of Pakistan's founding father, Mohammed Ali Jinnah. An AP photographer who saw the cubicle of the wrecked truck Friday said it appeared to have shrapnel holes from the bombing.
Her procession had been creeping toward the center of Karachi for 10 hours, as supporters thronged her truck, when a small explosion erupted near the front of the vehicle.
That was quickly followed by a larger blast, destroying two escorting police vans.
The former premier had just gone to a downstairs compartment in the truck for a rest when the blast occurred, said, Bhutto's biographer.
"So she wasn't on top in the open like rest of us, so that just saved her," Lamb told Sky News.
The United States, theand the condemned the attack.
"Extremists will not be allowed to stop Pakistanis from selecting their representatives through an open and democratic process," said Gordon Johndroe,'s foreign affairs spokesman.
Associated Press writers Matthew Pennington and Paisley Dodds in Karachi and Sadaqat Jan and Zarar Khan in Islamabad contributed to this report.
By MICHAEL ASTOR, Associated Press Writer Mon Oct 15, 7:38 PM ET
RIO DE JANEIRO, Brazil - The skeleton of what is believed to be a new dinosaur species — a 105-foot plant-eater that is among the largest dinosaurs ever found — has been uncovered in
Scientists from Argentina andsaid the Patagonian dinosaur appears to represent a previously unknown species of Titanosaur because of the unique structure of its neck. They named it Futalognkosaurus dukei after the Mapuche Indian words for "giant" and "chief," and for Duke Energy Argentina, which helped fund the skeleton's excavation.
"This is one of the biggest in the world and one of the most complete of these giants that exist," said Jorge Calvo, director of the paleontology center at the National University of Comahue, Argentina. He was lead author of a study on the dinosaur published in the peer-reviewed Annals of the Brazilian Academy of Sciences.
Scientists said the giant herbivore walked the Earth some 88 million years ago, during the late Cretaceous period.
Since the first bones were found on the banks of Lake Barreales in the Argentine province ofin 2000, paleontologists have dug up the dinosaur's neck, back region, hips and the first vertebra of its tail.
"I'm pretty certain it's a new species," agreed Peter Mackovicky, associate curator for dinosaurs at Chicago's Field Museum, who was not involved with the discovery. "I've seen some of the remains of Futalognkosaurus and it is truly gigantic."
Calvo said the neck alone must have been 56 feet long, and by studying the vertebrae, they figured the tail probably measured 49 feet. The dinosaur reached over 43 feet tall, and the excavated spinal column weighed about 9 tons when excavated. One neck vertebra alone measured more than 3 feet high.
Jeff Wilson, an assistant professor of paleontology at the, who was asked to review the finding, said he was impressed by the sheer amount of skeleton recovered.
"I should really try to underscore how incredible it is to have partial skeleton of something this size," Wilson said in telephone interview. "With these kind of bones you can't study them by moving them around on the table; you have to move around them yourself."
"It shows us the upper limit for dinosaur size," Wilson added. "There are some that are bigger but they all top out around this size."
Patagonia also was home to the other two largest dinosaur skeletons found to date — Argentinosaurus, at around 115 feet long, and Puertasaurus reuili, 115 feet to 131 feet long.
Comparison between the three herbivores, however, is difficult because scientists have only found few vertebrae of Puertasaurus, and while the skeleton of Futalognkosaurus (FOO-ta-long-koh-SOHR-us) is fairly complete, scientists have not uncovered any bones from its limbs.
North America's dinosaurs don't even compare in size, Mackovicky added in a phone interview. "Dinosaurs do get big here, but nothing near the proportions we see in South America."
The site where Futalognkosaurus was found has been a bonanza for paleontologists, yielding more than 1,000 specimens, including 240 fossil plants, 300 teeth and the remains of several other dinosaurs.
"As far as I know, there is no other place in the world where there is such a large and diverse quantity of fossils in such small area. That is truly unique," said Alexander Kellner, a researcher with the Brazilian National Museum and co-author of the dinosaur's scientific description.
The Kashmir earthquake (also known as the South Asia earthquake or the Great Pakistan earthquake) of 2005, was a major earthquake, of which the epicentre was the Pakistan-administered Kashmir. The earthquake occurred at 08:50:38 Pakistan Standard Time (03:50:38 UTC) on 8 October 2005. It registered 7.6 on the richter scale making it a major earthquake similar in intensity to the 1935 Quetta earthquake, the 2001 Gujarat earthquake, and the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. As of 8 November, the Pakistani government's official death toll was 73,276, while officials say nearly 1,400 people died in Jammu and Kashmir and fourteen people in Afghanistan.
By Trent Brandon | Original Repost Date : October 2, 2007
This is a legend about Robert Johnson, a poor blues guitar player, who went down the crossroads at midnight and made a deal with the devil to be the best blues player ever. Deep in the Mississippi delta, in the heart of voodoo and occult practices, on a lonely dirt road, as darkness fell, Mr. Johnson found Hell and changed the sound of music forever.
The term crossroads literally describes the spot where the paths of two different roads intersect. Crossroads are associated with cultural superstitions and magical influences. All sorts of supernatural forces; including fairies, witches, trolls, ghosts, and demons allegedly manifest at the less traveled crossroads to conduct private activities. Haunted crossroads have long been suspected for the strange disappearance of travelers. Ghostly riders, dark apparitions, and ominous creatures have all been seen at lonely crossroads just after sunset. Legends from the Deep South say that crossroads are places where deals with the Devil can be made, or where contests can be preformed to obtain the rights to a particular soul.
One old legend tells that the lost souls of suicide victims remain trapped at the crossroads until they are forgiven and set free. On the night of All Hallows Eve, Halloween October 31st, the souls of the dead will appear and can be conjured at the crossroads. Once the spirit of the crossroads has been called, it must answer three questions correctly.
The most famous crossroads legend comes from the Deep South delta town of Greenwood, Mississippi. By the early 1900’s slavery had been abolished for several decades, but life in the delta for the former slaves and their families was often just as oppressive as slave life. The former slaves were free men and women, but most of them who had not moved north by the turn of the century still worked on southern plantations as sharecroppers. They worked the cotton fields from sunrise to sunset, enduring backbreaking labor in the sweltering heat with almost no money to show for it. During this time these hard working people searched for ways to escape the cruel and agonizing existence of the delta. Church hymns, poetry, and work songs developed into a musical escape to pass the time. No one knew it at the time, but the Mississippi delta was about to give birth to a form of music that would revolutionize the world; rhythm and blues. Local bars began to spring up on the outskirts of communities called, “juke joints.” Juke joints were places where field workers could go on the weekends to drink whiskey, socialize, and listen to the blues. The juke joints were very popular and controversial. The local churches considered them to be houses of the devil, and believed that anyone who visited these places would eventually lose their soul to the devil.Robert Johnson (1911-1938) was born into a sharecropping family in the south. His father committed suicide when Robert was very young and his mother remarried a man who physically abused the family. Robert ran away at age sixteen, and made his first trip to a juke joint where he fell in love with the blues music. Robert got an old guitar, and became a musician. There was just one problem; Robert could not play the guitar very well. He tried learning for several years, but could not master even the most basic blues songs. He was so bad that the master blues players of the time would call Robert to come up on stage and play as a joke. He would play badly, and the audience would laugh and crack jokes. Eventually, Robert fell in love and got married. He gave up the blues, and settled down to become something he always hated, a sharecropper. Robert’s wife became pregnant. He had settled into life as a farmer. He loved his wife, and was looking forward to having a child. Robert had moved on, putting his guitar playing days behind him, but fate had other plans for Robert Johnson. Robert’s wife had trouble giving birth and both she and the baby died in labor. Robert was so destroyed by this that he left the farm with only his guitar and disappeared from the world.
Then, on one hot summers day nine months later, as suddenly as he had vanished, Robert Johnson strolled back into town and changed the history of music. The audience at the local juke joint was ready to hear Robert’s comic guitar playing performance, but instead, he walked onto the stage with his guitar and blew the audience away. No one in the crowd could believe what they were hearing. Robert’s guitar playing had not just improved; he was now the most phenomenal guitar player that anyone, including the masters like Charlie Patton and Son House, had ever heard. The musicians who had once laughed at Robert were now embarrassed to play alongside him. People began traveling from all over the Deep South to hear him play. He packed the juke joints every night. Robert’s popularity spread quickly, but there was also a strange rumor spreading that Robert had done the unspeakable by making a deal with the devil. Nobody who heard Robert play the guitar before his musical transformation could believe that he could learn how to master the guitar in only nine months without supernatural help. The rumor was that a desperate Robert Johnson, distraught over the death of his beloved wife and child, gave up all hope and turned his back on God. He left his farm and traveled to a secret crossroad with only his guitar. Exactly at midnight, a man dressed in black carrying a guitar, appeared from the shadows and made Robert a deal - Robert’s soul, to be able to play the blues. Robert agreed, and they switched guitars. Robert knew all about the rumor, but never denied it. In fact, Robert was playing songs that he had written during his absence like, “Cross Road Blues” and “Hell Hound on My Trail,” which seemed to validate the rumor. Something that made Robert’s playing even more remarkable was that he primarily used the Stella and the Kalamazoo guitars. The Kalamazoo, which Robert painted black, was defective, and the Stella sold by Sears & Roebuck was a very cheap instrument.
Over the next five years, Robert Johnson astonished the music world and rocked juke joints all over the south. In 1936, Robert cut his first record, recording 16 of his original songs. Thirteen months later, he recorded 13 more songs. Those 29 songs are considered to be some of the most important and influential blues songs ever recorded. Robert Johnson became the first African America to have his music played in the mainstream jukeboxes all across the US. Everyone was listening to the music of Robert Johnson.
In the summer of 1938, Robert returned to Greenwood, Mississippi. The times were tough. The Great Depression had destroyed the farmers and summer heat was suffocating. The town needed a boost and by this time, Robert Johnson was a walking legend. Everyone knew the rumor about him making a deal with the devil. The community churches warned families to keep their wives and daughters away from Robert, who seemed to have a way of getting any woman he wanted. Robert stood on a street corner and started to play his guitar. After only ten minutes of playing the streets were filled with people for as far as the eye could see. He was offered a job playing at a local juke joint. After playing for several weeks Robert started seeing a woman, who just happened to be his boss’s wife. This was not the best career decision. One night Robert walked into a packed juke joint, and drank a half pint of the house whiskey. He sat down and started to play the blues, but became ill suddenly and collapsed. He was carried back to his hotel room in dire need of medical attention. At this time in the south, no white doctor would see a black patient, and no black doctors would see Robert because of the crossroads rumor. Robert was left in his room alone where he suffered for three days. On August 16, 1938 Robert Johnson, the king of the Delta Blues died.
Many people believed that Robert Johnson had been poised by a jealous husband, but there where those who believed that the devil had return to collect on an old debt. Robert may have even wrote about his death in one of this songs titled, Me and the Devil Blues: “Early this mornin’, ooh when you knocked upon my door, And I said, “Hello, Satan, I believe it’s time to go.”
Even in death, Robert’s story is filled with mystery. Robert’s body was buried quickly, so quickly in fact, that no one knows exactly where he was laid to rest. No one claimed Robert’s body, so the town buried him. Even though Robert was a famous musician, he was still considered to be a poor black man to the southern community, and they were not going to spend more money burying Robert than they absolutely had too. Robert was given the same kind of burial that a homeless man would receive. A hole was dug in a field and Robert was buried. There was no headstone or burial marker. Over the years people believed that Robert was buried in a local potters field, but his death certificate says Mount Zion, which is where most people now believe he is buried.
Robert Johnson paved the way for other blues legends like Muddy Waters who had studied Robert’s guitar style when learning how to play. Eventually, the music style of rhythm and blues developed into Rock and Roll. Many of the early Rock legends studied the early work of Robert Johnson. Fifty years after Robert’s death a strange thing began to happen. Rock and Roll giants began to cover his songs. Cover songs have been done by Eric Clapton, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Allman Brothers Band, Led Zepplin, the Rolling Stones, the Red Hot Chili Peppers and countless of other Rock and Roll bands, who still continue to pay tribute to this blues legend.
In 1986, Robert Johnson was honored in the first group of five “forefathers” inducted into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland Ohio. In 1990, a newly released box set of Robert Johnson recordings sold Platinum, and won a Grammy Award. In 1994, the United States Postal Department issued its commemorative stamp of Robert Johnson. Another strange fact involving Robert Johnson is that he died at the age twenty-seven, the same age as Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, and Kurt Cobain when they died. “Oh, can’t you hear the wind howl?” - Robert Johnson.
Written by: Trent Brandon
“If you want to learn how to make songs yourself, you take your guitar and your go to where the road crosses that way, where a crossroads is. Get there be sure to get there just a little ‘ fore 12 that night so you know you’ll be there. You have your guitar and be playing a piece there by yourself…A big black man will walk up there and take your guitar and he’ll tune it. And then he’ll play a piece and hand it back to you. That’s the way I learned to play anything I want.” ~Tommy Johnson