iPod iChing - I knew you were going to ask that now

Hot frantic friday, and we ask the iPod.
Oh, mighty one - are we classically deterministic automata, predictable by any Turing machine, or do we have that most insidious of concepts, a true Free Will?

Whoosh goes the randomizer...
Whoosh.

• The Covering: Dammit Janet- Barry Bostwick et al
• The Crossing: Norðurljós - Thorir Ulfarsson
• The Crown: Að Lesa Og Skrifa List er Gó&eth: - Þuríður Pálsdóttir
• The Root: O Come, All Ye Faithful - King's College Choir
• The Past: John Reid BBC Radio 4 Interview on Iraq (Aug 12 2005) Podcast
• The Future: St Jimmy - Green Day
• The Questioner: Behind the Wall - Tracy Chapman
• The House: Happy Birthday - Altered Images
• The Inside: The Flight of the Bumble-Bee
• The Outcome: Debora - T. Rex

Hm, the Covering is interesting.
The Crossing is a "Northern Lights" instrumental, and the Crown is "Good Art to Read and Write" traditional educational rhyme.
The Root is of course the Root of this even being a query... while the Past just shows why the iPod has a sense of humour. Opening sentence is "...at least that is the plan, it may not happen..."
Not sure what to make of the Questioner...
The House again shows suitable humour.

The Future really kicks things off though; that and the Inside show random yet cheerful in-your-face anarchy.
You don't know what you might do or what might happen.
But what do we make of the Outcome? I had to look that one up... there is mystery and ambiguity, unpredictability?
Maybe the iPod doesn't know...

As always, the Key as explained by Sean

St Jimmy

St. Jimmy's coming down across the alleyway

Up on the boulevard like a zip gun on parade
Light of a silluoette
He's insubordinate
Coming at you on the count of 1,2, 1,2,3,4!

My name is Jimmy and you better not wear it out
Suicide commando that your momma talked about
King of the forty thieves
And I'm here to represent
That needle in the vein of the establishment

I'm the patron saint of the denial
With an angel face and a taste for suicidal

Cigarettes and ramen and a little bag of dope
I am the son of a bitch and Edgar Allan Poe
Raised in the city under a halo of lights

The product of war and fear that we've been victimized

I'm the patron saint of the denial
With an angel face and a taste for suicidal

You talkin' to me?

I'll give you something to cry about.

ST. JIMMY!

My name is St. Jimmy I'm a son of a gun
I am the one that's from the way outside
A teenage assassin executing some fun
And the cult of the life of crime

I really hate to say it but I told you so
So shut your mouth before I shoot you down ol' boy
Welcome to the club and give me some blood
And the resident leader of the lost and found

It's comedy and tragedy
It's St. Jimmy
And that's my name...and don't wear it out!