In Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, Shirley Manson played CEO Catherine Weaver, who is trying to develop the technology which will someday become SkyNet. I always think of Shirley Manson and her band Garbage on this date because of their song April 10 (lyrics below). April 10 is about the death of a fan and, although it is nice that Garbage immortalized the fan, that is not sexy, only I can’t help but think sexy when I think of sex-positive feminist Shirley Manson. When she did her actress turn as T-1000 terminator Catherine Weaver, she had the sense of humor to be willing to transform from a urinal in order to terminate a wayward employee. Who wouldn’t want hot and cold running Shirley Manson in their bathroom? She also told MTV that she would like to see robot sex on Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. If only FOX had listened to her. Some people probably find her intimidating, but I only think she is more attractive, when she writes things like this about Patti Smith for Rolling Stone: “She is a soldier. She will not be defeated. I look at today’s charts, at the women who are selling the most records, getting the most column inches, and I’m terrified by how they are all controlled by a male corporate idea of what women and rebels should be. When Christina Aguilera is taken seriously as a rebellious figure, we have a huge problem. I’m just glad that Patti [Smith] is still willing to get up there and fight. It makes me feel less alone.”
April Tenth Lyrics
It was April the tenth
I remember it well
It was so cold that year
It was colder than hell
Things haven’t been good
For you, for a while
Because I’d been on tour
I hadn’t heard
And you’ve dropped in
With the letter you wrote
And I read it aloud
To prove that I could
And we were both laughing
Cause we know how you are
We never thought
Your quitting was good
We thought that we knew you
And I guess that we don’t
Are you heavenly or
Just like the past?
We called you “the black penny”
Remember that?
The sea is wide
The streets are long
And there’s blood on all our hands
With the catalyst gone
And only what’s left to us
Is history built on dust
I was sweating on poet’s words
Great nations and governments
Sweet lies and victories
Eager and keen to please
Those good keys are everywhere
With their thousand-yard stare
We all end up the same
Like little lambs to meet their end
