Jim Morrison was a genius. Genius! Sure, he had his issues. He drank too much, smoked too much, banged too much, and took way more acid than any human being should. He was a complete and utter ____ up, but at the end of the day, he was a special that only comes around once in a life time. (Actually minus the genius stuff, he sounds a lot like us)

I guess the good thing is he died like he lived - in a bathtub with a belly full of whiskey and cocaine. So, today, we'll remember the good Jim Morrison. Not the guy with the demons, but the Lizard King - the guy who broke the rules on the Sullivan show and discovered himself (and cleaned off his 3rd eye) in the desert. That was the man we know and love, and that was the way he should be remembered.

"I see myself as a huge fiery comet, a shooting star. Everyone stops, points up and gasps "Oh look at that!" Then whoosh, and I'm gone ... and they'll never see anything like it ever again -- and they won't be able to forget me, ever." James Douglas Morrison: December 08, 1943 -- July 03, 1971