Well, where do I begin? When I first heard the news that Joe Strummer had died I was sitting in front of a spinning wheel in near total darkness, with only a Mini-Mag light to see what I was doing. The power had gone out during a massive windstorm and I had decided to make the most of my pre-industrial state by spinning up some of the hemp/linen/recycled-tree fibres I had bought into some yarn. Since spinning in the dark isn't as much fun as it sounds, I hooked my walkman up to some speakers to hear the local all news station so they could tell my why and how long my power was going to be out for. As it turns out, it was just more trees on the line, like normal. When they got to entertainment news, I froze and quit doing anything when they announced that one of the founders of punk had died.

"Joey Ramone's already gone, " I though quickly, "So it's either John Lydon or Joe..."

"Joe Strummer of the Clash, dead at age 50 of an apparent heart attack at his farm in England," finished the radio announcer, completing my train of thought.

I was pretty shocked. Still am. Fifty is too young of an age to die. It's sad it had to happen just when things were going so well for Joe. Discussing it with my mother later, she said it was probably the toll of all the drugs on his system. Hey, I knew this could be true since had Strummer actually had used a good quantity of drugs in the past. I told my mother that he mostly likely had a weak heart from years of drinking as well as a not-so-super diet. Which could apply to the majority of English people. Joe Strummer Memorial Forest