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Tuesday , May 12, 2009
Dear Diary, Will Surfing Turn Me Into a Satanist? (Or: Dennis Wilson Is Maybe My New Favorite Beach Boy, But Charles Manson Is Still a Total Loser)

Lately, like for the past 45 minutes, I've picked up on all these weird connections between me, Charles Manson, and Dennis Wilson from the Beach Boys. It might all just be kooky coincidence, but it could be some real deep "cosmic connection," like on the Sex & The City ep when Samantha has the same exchange as the virgin NYU boy and there's a party in his dorm and Carrie totally falls down the stairs just like Natasha did! Oh my god! So I need help sorting everything out, see? Because I'd really prefer not to feel "cosmically connected" to Charles Manson. These be the facts at hand:
ONE. Despite all those tunes about surfer girls and surfin' safaris and the surfer's stomp, Dennis Wilson was the only Beach Boy who actually ever surfed. Similarly, I'm the only member of the nogoodforme.com troika who actually ever surfs. (Which is maybe not true, since I remember Kat saying something about surfing last summer, and I still haven't stood up on my board, but whatever: Hopefully you catch-a my drift-a.) Another thing about Dennis Wilson is he's the only member of the Beach Boys to have starred in a movie with James Taylor: It's called Two Lane Blacktop and here's a film still with Dennis and James, who's such a sexy beast that your brain's probably going to explode if you stare at this image any longer than three to five seconds:

TWO. On my sixth birthday, while I was watching Return of the Jedi in the theater for the fourth time with my mom and my BFF, Dennis Wilson drowned in the Pacific Ocean at Marina Del Rey.
THREE. My surf partner/nogoodforme.com videographer Emily Richmond lives in Marina Del Rey.
FOUR. If you click the above link, you'll probably find a photo of me looking like some crazy goth alien going rock-climbing in a knit hat. I much prefer this picture of me (also featured on Emily Richmond's blog), wearing the same hat and drinking a Fat Tire and about to eat some insanely over-the-top salad I'd never recommend to anyone:

FIVE. Sometime in the late '60s, Dennis Wilson got all mixed up with Charles Manson for a spell: Supposedly he picked up two Manson girls hitchhiking, and when he came back from running errands later on, the entire Manson Family had moved into his house (to quote Laura Jane Faulds quoting Stephanie Tanner: "HOW RUDE!"). He let them stick around a while, and the Beach Boys recorded one of Charles Manson's songs, which was released exactly eight months before the murder of Sharon Tate. Creepy.
666! Speaks the super-wacky website FindADeath.com: "When Charles Manson learned of [Dennis Wilson's] death, he commented, 'Dennis Wilson was killed by my shadow because he took my music and changed the words from my soul.' Loser." That is SO TRUE, FindADeath.com: Charles Manson is such a loser!!!
SEVEN. The Manson song the Beach Boys recorded is "Never Learn Not to Love." It's real beautiful and goes a little something like this:
EIGHT. Apparently I love another Charles Manson song - as performed by Devendra Banhart, at least. The Devendrameister does this cover of "Your Home Is Where You're Happy" all mixed up with Lauryn Hill's "That Thing," and I've put it on 8 million mix CDs without ever realizing the former's a Manson song. How silly! BTW, remember how lame/weird/fun it was when Jezebel did that post about how Devendra's a cross between Charles Manson and Sienna Miller? I guess it's true, kind of? Or not.

NINE. The Manson Family's last hideout was called "Barker Ranch." I am called "Elizabeth Barker." Coincidentally - or NOT - Barker Ranch burnt down last week. Again: creepy!
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Tags: black as a stack of black cats, Charles Manson is a loser, cosmic connections, Dennis Wilson, Devendra Banhart, don't ever order the Luau Salad at Cheesecake Factory, don't ever pick up hitchhikers who happen to be members of the Manson Family, Emily Richmond, fountain soda is an unreliable spirit vessel, humor, James Taylor, Kat Asharya, Laura Jane Faulds, Lindsay Lohan, Liz Barker, my cat might be an agent of the devil, perpetuating lame-ass myths about satanism, Return of the Jedi, soul-transference, Stephanie Tanner, surfing, the Beach Boys, The Beatles
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by Liz in Dear Diary
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