To Not Forget:

"The Arrow and the Song" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

"Two Years Later" by W.B. Yeats
Has no one said those daring
Kind eyes should be more learn'd?
Or warned you how despairing
The moths are when they are burned?
I could have warned you, but you are young,
So we speak a different tongue.

O you will take whatever's offered
And dream that all the world's a friend,
Suffer as your mother suffered,
Be as broken in the end.
But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a barbarous tongue.

"A Memory of Youth" by W.B. YeatsThe moment passes as at a play;
I had the wisdom love brings forth;
I had my share of mother-wit,
And yet for all that I could say,
And though I had her praise for it,
A cloud blown from the cut-throat North
Suddenly hid Love's moon away.

Believing every word I said,
I praised her body and her mind
Till pride had made her eyes grow bright,
And pleasure made her cheeks grow red,
And vanity her footfall light,
Yet we, for all that praise, could find
Nothing but darkness overhead.

We sat as silent as a stone,
We knew, though she'd not said a word,
That even the best of love must die,
And had been savagely undone
Were it not that love upon the cry
Of a most ridiculous little bird
Tore from the clouds his marvellous little moon.

"Drummer Hodge" by Thomas Hardy (thank you, The History Boys)
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
Uncoffined -- just as found:
His landmark is a kopje-crest
That breaks the veldt around;
And foreign constellations west
Each night above his mound.

Young Hodge the drummer never knew --
Fresh from his Wessex home --
The meaning of the broad Karoo,
The Bush, the dusty loam,
And why uprose to nightly view
Strange stars amid the gloam.

Yet portion of that unknown plain
Will Hodge forever be;
His homely Northern breast and brain
Grow to some Southern tree,
And strange-eyed constellations reign
His stars eternally.

He Will Rock You

In one of those brilliant casting moves that makes you think there really might be a god, Sacha Baron Cohen has just been attached to play Freddie Mercury in the upcoming biopic on his life, death and, well, music of course.

It almost hurts how obvious this choice is.

Can't say I am too fond of biopic, music movies. I just don't think that most people are interesting enough, nor is their music that impactful (Beyond the Sea, Bobby Darin, anyone?)... The same story recurs and recurs: singer struggles, singer succeeds, singer makes stupid choices, singer finds love, singer is resurrected, singer is made legend.

Boring.

But Freddie Mercury takes fascinating life to an entirely new level. This man is a legend, if ever there was one. A born entertainer, a true revolutionary of music, and his sound will NEVER be duplicated.

He is Queen. Queen is legendary. And Freddie was SO interesting and messed up.

I agree with Avaryl when she says that it's probably for the best if Sacha doesn't sing his own vocals. But I only agree with this statement if he can't get the voice exact. If he can, he should sing. It'd be very tough though.

This movie will be biopic magic. A spot-on casting choice along with one of the most captivating life/death stories in music history. People will see this for Sacha and for Freddie and Queen.

What's not to love?