After all that begging, I sit here, typing through the tears (OK, maybe that's a bit melodramatic), hoping for a miracle to save Jason Castro. Except maybe I don't want him to be saved. After last night's unwarranted beating by the judges, maybe he deserves to be done with this show and the horrible people who run it; the brutality will be even worse if he survives this week, and the public will hate him for not being voted off after his roughest night to date.

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Bob Marley must be spinning in his grave, and this time it's not because he's insanely high. Despite living a life dedicated to the propagation of peace and love, fucking businessmen have come forth and spawned greed and embitterment in the prolific reggae man's name, tainting his music, his family and his memory.

The family of Bob Marley has refused to license any of his music for a biopic that the Weinstein Co. is prepping — despite the fact that his widow, Rita Marley, is its executive producer.

The reason? There is a competing Martin Scorsese documentary being produced by the Marley family-owned Tuff Gong Pictures and Steven Bing's Shangri La banner, the first theatrical docu to license Marley songs.

Oh, pirate ships.