As I was throwing something away in the kitchen trash, I saw a newspaper on top of the garbage with a story about how Courtney Love's husband had been thrown out of a church. I was confused as to how and why they could throw a dead man out of anything. I was starting to get upset about what they were possibly doing to Kurt Cobain's ashes, when I thought to see if maybe she had remarried and I just hadn't heard. And I found out she had, to a famous Korean pianist who played the world's tallest piano.
I never found out what he had done to be thrown out of the church mentioned in the paper. I found it odd and unsettling that seemingly everyone else had known about this guy but me. He was everywhere-- on the radio, in magazines, newspapers. My dad had his newest CD. I saw him on TV playing a concert, and his piano was freakishly tall; he sat 20 feet up in the air on his bench, playing this thing, with his little feet dangling down. The piano had no pedals, and his music came out sounding very staccato and strange. He didn't seem human, and his music was alien. I didn't trust him, and was convinced he had put the world into some hypnotic trance for dark purposes.