James Blunt must die. He's a fucking newspaper critics' darling and trendy twenty-something apartment dwelling cunts' background-music-making, talentless, whiny shit who we damn to hell and back, then to purgatory for 379 1/2 years, then to heaven to mock him, then to hell, back, hell, back, and finally hell. If you agree, please join, and we can make songs about him with very offensive rhyme schemes. Thank you for your cooperation.