Does Owl Chatter have dark powers? We just wrote about Marianne Faithfull a short while ago (and played her song Bad English), and now she’s dead at age 78. It’s giving George the creeps.

Didn’t you just assume that name was a stage name? It’s not. Marianne’s dad was Major Robert Glynn Faithfull, a British intelligence officer and professor of Italian literature at London University. Faithfull’s mother, Eva, was the daughter of Artur Wolfgang, Ritter von Sacher-Masoch, an Austro-Hungarian nobleman, and a ballerina (Eva, that is) who danced in productions of works by Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Her maternal grandmother was Jewish, making Marianne Jewish too, according to folks who are Jewish. Get this: Faithfull’s maternal great-great-uncle was Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, whose erotic novel, Venus in Furs, spawned the word “masochism.”

Faithfull’s career in show business started pretty much the same way my career as a tax professor did. She was at a party for the Rolling Stones in 1964. Their manager was drawn to her by how beautiful she was and asked if she could sing. She said she could and was in a studio within a week. The first song she recorded was As Tears Go By, which is believed to be the first original composition of Mick and Keith. It’s beautiful enough to listen to twice: once by MF and again by the boys, below.

When she was just 19, she married artist John Dunbar and had a son, Nicholas, with him. Dunbar had an art gallery. It’s where John Lennon later met Yoko. So many connections. Marianne’s marriage did not last long — she moved in with Mick Jagger and they were quite an item for over four years. She had some rough times after that but rebounded to have a very successful life and career.

In 2009, she received the World Arts Award for Lifetime Achievement as part of International Women’s Day. “Marianne’s contribution to the arts over a 45-year career including 18 studio albums as a singer, songwriter and interpreter, and numerous appearances on stage and screen is now being acknowledged with this special award.” In 2011, she was awarded the Commandeur of the Ordre des Arts et des Lettres, one of France’s highest cultural honors. Still beautiful, in my book.

Mick issued the following statement on her passing:

“I am so saddened to hear of the death of Marianne Faithfull. She was so much part of my life for so long. She was a wonderful friend, a beautiful singer, and a great actress. She will always be remembered.”

As tears go by, she is survived by Nicholas and three grandchildren.

Rest in peace, Marianne.

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Headlines from The Onion:

Trump Claims God Spared Him In Airplane Crash

Personal Commentary: No Matter How Many Chili Cook-Offs I Win, Everyone Still Sees Me As ‘That School Shooter’s Mom.’

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Danny Rock, of the Dull Men’s Club (UK) says: I can’t explain it, but even though it’s been 13 years since the divorce, I still sometimes get a ghost feeling of the ring on my finger, or could it be a sign of something in my future?

Some of the duller comments:

Rosie Barker: You tried it once and it didn’t work. Don’t do it again. [Ouch]

Alan Rooke: Does feeling as though you are still wearing a baseball cap in the evening after you’ve taken it off count?

Rosie: Same issue with glasses, I think I’m still wearing them till I walk into a door. That usually alleviates the sensation.

Natasha Ca: That depends: How much are you worth? If it’s high enough, it might be related to our future.

Sandy Grogan: The three rings of marriage: Engagement ring; Wedding ring; Suffer ring

Avi: Mysterious things happen. There was the case of identical twins. One took a shower and the other one suddenly got clean.

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This poem is by a woman, Tamsin Moore, and is from The Poetry Foundation today. It’s called “Lana Del Rey on Country Roads.” The song it refers to can be heard below.

Long, empty roads stretching as long as the gas tank is willing—
Sixty-seven dollars left from last summer’s job, but that doesn’t matter with the windows rolled down, her hair blowing back; she doesn’t push it behind her ear, her hand is busy holding mine.

Lana Del Rey on the radio, turned as high as our consciences allow—

Going fifty on the small-town back roads, but who will care? There’s no one but cows to witness our transgressions. Nothing but anthropomorphism to signal our sin.

At home there’s college and work and decisions to be made—
Here there’s only the sunset over dry, empty cornfields and the rhythm of Tulsa Jesus Freak playing on repeat until I know it by heart, though I haven’t heard it before today.

Our own freedom thrums through these bony teenage bodies, and it’s clear we’ve only begun to explore. There’s so much left to learn, and so much time to learn it.

I turn Lana up a few degrees more
and step on the gas.

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See you next time — thanks for popping by!