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All comics (which are separate, but thematically connected) written and drawn by Matt Borrs.
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Thom Dunn is a Boston-based writer, musician, and utterly terrible dancer. He is the singer/guitarist for the indie rock/power-pop the Roland High Life, as well as a staff writer for the New York Times’ Wirecutter and a regular contributor at BoingBoing.net. Thom enjoys Oxford commas, metaphysics, and romantic clichés (especially when they involve whiskey), and he firmly believes that Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" is the single greatest atrocity committed against mankind. He is a graduate of Clarion Writer's Workshop at UCSD ('13) & Emerson College ('08).
From Live Freaky, Die Freaky!, the post-apocalyptic stop-motion Charles Manson sci-fi musical. Yup.
So Anyway, Here's That Song That Charlie Manson Cut With The Beach Boys
In celebration of his upcoming nuptials, I thought I'd remind you of my personal favorite piece of weird Charles Manson history (not that I have like, a running list but...ugh, whatever).
See, once upon a time, just a year before the fully-public crazy and the murder and stuff, Charlie Manson was shacking up with Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys. Sure, they shared some concubines, but more importantly, they made music together.
That's right, the Beach Boys collaborated with one of the most notorious Neo-Nazi cultist murderers in American history.
Read MoreLet's Kill Hitler M. Night Shyamalan!
It's a classic time travel question: if you had the ability to change history and travel through time, would you go back and kill Baby Hitler to prevent the Holocaust from ever happening? But then, what has innocent little baby Hitler ever done — could you possibly raise him in a way to stop him from ever becoming the monster that he does, without killing him? It's a great thought problem, but I propose a better idea: Going back in time to kill M. Night Shyamalan, around the time that Signs was released. Because if you think about it, you'd actually be doing everyone a favor — including M. Night himself. He would be the victim of a mysterious murder, and remembered as a young auteur filmmaker who died before his time. He'd be remembered for such greats as Signs and Unbreakable, and the rest of us would never have to suffer through such insipid crap as Lady in the Water or The Happening.
This week on Five By Five Hundred, I explore this exact scenario.