Paragraph 1: The band was formed in 1994 under the early moniker Blind, but made their first performance as Godhead shortly after in Fairfax, Virginia that April. After fairly remaining in obscurity for a number of years, the band was noticed by Marilyn Manson and in 2000 signed a record contract with Manson, making them the first act of Posthuman Records. This deal culminated with the release of their breakthrough studio album in January 2001 entitled, 2000 Years of Human Error, which earned Godhead recognition by Ozzy Osbourne and landed them a spot on Ozzfest where the band headlined the second stage that same year. The album featured additional contributions by Marilyn Manson bassist Twiggy Ramirez, Scott Putesky (original guitarist for Marilyn Manson, formerly known as Daisy Berkowitz), as well as Manson himself. Despite being briefly hindered by the dissolution of Posthuman, the band has steadily developed a following since their breakthrough.  In the early years the band was managed by Scott Cohen.

Paragraph 2: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 3: Staines was a member of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) and on its Supreme Council from 1921 to 1922. He served as Quartermaster General in the GPO during the 1916 Easter Rising and was later interned with his fellow insurgents at Frongoch internment camp. These men were served with internment orders under the Defence of the Realm Act 1914, which stated that they were "suspected of having honoured, promoted or assisted an armed insurrection against His Majesty". This meant that there were no charges, no court appearances and no pleas. Staines was elected Commandant of the prisoners after the former Commandant J. J. O'Connell was sent to Reading Gaol on 30 June. W.J. Brennan-Whitmore described Staines as: "a highly efficient officer who earned the love and respect of every individual prisoner." The attempts to conscript men in Frongoch to the British Army proved to be a serious source of disagreement between the prisoners and the camp authorities. The prisoners felt that it was ludicrous to expect Irish rebels to fight for Britain and the Crown. In addition, they were concerned that acceptance of conscription in Frongoch might be a prelude to the introduction of conscription in Ireland. Roughly sixty men in Frongoch had lived in Great Britain before the Rising and they were accordingly deemed liable for conscription. Staines, whom W. J. Brennan-Whitmore describes as maintaining "a very difficult position with remarkable efficiency and tact" throughout the conscription troubles which took place in Frongoch, took up a very resolute attitude on the question of identification. He asked Colonel F.A. Heygate-Lambert, Camp Commandant if he expected the prisoner leaders to identify comrades of theirs for military service in the British Army. To this Heygate-Lambert replied that it was the leaders' duty to identify men for all purposes. Staines retorted that by identifying the men for military service they would be lowering themselves to the level of spies and informers.

Paragraph 4: Staines was a member of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) and on its Supreme Council from 1921 to 1922. He served as Quartermaster General in the GPO during the 1916 Easter Rising and was later interned with his fellow insurgents at Frongoch internment camp. These men were served with internment orders under the Defence of the Realm Act 1914, which stated that they were "suspected of having honoured, promoted or assisted an armed insurrection against His Majesty". This meant that there were no charges, no court appearances and no pleas. Staines was elected Commandant of the prisoners after the former Commandant J. J. O'Connell was sent to Reading Gaol on 30 June. W.J. Brennan-Whitmore described Staines as: "a highly efficient officer who earned the love and respect of every individual prisoner." The attempts to conscript men in Frongoch to the British Army proved to be a serious source of disagreement between the prisoners and the camp authorities. The prisoners felt that it was ludicrous to expect Irish rebels to fight for Britain and the Crown. In addition, they were concerned that acceptance of conscription in Frongoch might be a prelude to the introduction of conscription in Ireland. Roughly sixty men in Frongoch had lived in Great Britain before the Rising and they were accordingly deemed liable for conscription. Staines, whom W. J. Brennan-Whitmore describes as maintaining "a very difficult position with remarkable efficiency and tact" throughout the conscription troubles which took place in Frongoch, took up a very resolute attitude on the question of identification. He asked Colonel F.A. Heygate-Lambert, Camp Commandant if he expected the prisoner leaders to identify comrades of theirs for military service in the British Army. To this Heygate-Lambert replied that it was the leaders' duty to identify men for all purposes. Staines retorted that by identifying the men for military service they would be lowering themselves to the level of spies and informers.

Paragraph 5: Staines was a member of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) and on its Supreme Council from 1921 to 1922. He served as Quartermaster General in the GPO during the 1916 Easter Rising and was later interned with his fellow insurgents at Frongoch internment camp. These men were served with internment orders under the Defence of the Realm Act 1914, which stated that they were "suspected of having honoured, promoted or assisted an armed insurrection against His Majesty". This meant that there were no charges, no court appearances and no pleas. Staines was elected Commandant of the prisoners after the former Commandant J. J. O'Connell was sent to Reading Gaol on 30 June. W.J. Brennan-Whitmore described Staines as: "a highly efficient officer who earned the love and respect of every individual prisoner." The attempts to conscript men in Frongoch to the British Army proved to be a serious source of disagreement between the prisoners and the camp authorities. The prisoners felt that it was ludicrous to expect Irish rebels to fight for Britain and the Crown. In addition, they were concerned that acceptance of conscription in Frongoch might be a prelude to the introduction of conscription in Ireland. Roughly sixty men in Frongoch had lived in Great Britain before the Rising and they were accordingly deemed liable for conscription. Staines, whom W. J. Brennan-Whitmore describes as maintaining "a very difficult position with remarkable efficiency and tact" throughout the conscription troubles which took place in Frongoch, took up a very resolute attitude on the question of identification. He asked Colonel F.A. Heygate-Lambert, Camp Commandant if he expected the prisoner leaders to identify comrades of theirs for military service in the British Army. To this Heygate-Lambert replied that it was the leaders' duty to identify men for all purposes. Staines retorted that by identifying the men for military service they would be lowering themselves to the level of spies and informers.

Paragraph 6: Staines was a member of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) and on its Supreme Council from 1921 to 1922. He served as Quartermaster General in the GPO during the 1916 Easter Rising and was later interned with his fellow insurgents at Frongoch internment camp. These men were served with internment orders under the Defence of the Realm Act 1914, which stated that they were "suspected of having honoured, promoted or assisted an armed insurrection against His Majesty". This meant that there were no charges, no court appearances and no pleas. Staines was elected Commandant of the prisoners after the former Commandant J. J. O'Connell was sent to Reading Gaol on 30 June. W.J. Brennan-Whitmore described Staines as: "a highly efficient officer who earned the love and respect of every individual prisoner." The attempts to conscript men in Frongoch to the British Army proved to be a serious source of disagreement between the prisoners and the camp authorities. The prisoners felt that it was ludicrous to expect Irish rebels to fight for Britain and the Crown. In addition, they were concerned that acceptance of conscription in Frongoch might be a prelude to the introduction of conscription in Ireland. Roughly sixty men in Frongoch had lived in Great Britain before the Rising and they were accordingly deemed liable for conscription. Staines, whom W. J. Brennan-Whitmore describes as maintaining "a very difficult position with remarkable efficiency and tact" throughout the conscription troubles which took place in Frongoch, took up a very resolute attitude on the question of identification. He asked Colonel F.A. Heygate-Lambert, Camp Commandant if he expected the prisoner leaders to identify comrades of theirs for military service in the British Army. To this Heygate-Lambert replied that it was the leaders' duty to identify men for all purposes. Staines retorted that by identifying the men for military service they would be lowering themselves to the level of spies and informers.

Paragraph 7: The band was formed in 1994 under the early moniker Blind, but made their first performance as Godhead shortly after in Fairfax, Virginia that April. After fairly remaining in obscurity for a number of years, the band was noticed by Marilyn Manson and in 2000 signed a record contract with Manson, making them the first act of Posthuman Records. This deal culminated with the release of their breakthrough studio album in January 2001 entitled, 2000 Years of Human Error, which earned Godhead recognition by Ozzy Osbourne and landed them a spot on Ozzfest where the band headlined the second stage that same year. The album featured additional contributions by Marilyn Manson bassist Twiggy Ramirez, Scott Putesky (original guitarist for Marilyn Manson, formerly known as Daisy Berkowitz), as well as Manson himself. Despite being briefly hindered by the dissolution of Posthuman, the band has steadily developed a following since their breakthrough.  In the early years the band was managed by Scott Cohen.

Paragraph 8: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 9: Despite the many transformations in the industry, the average production cost of an American feature film was effectively stable over the course of the 1950s. In 1950, the figure had been $1 million; in 1961, it reached $2 million—after adjusting for inflation, the increase in real terms was less than 10 percent.  The traditional twin bill of B film preceding and balancing a subsequent-run A film had largely disappeared from American theaters. The dual genre-movie package, popularized by American International Pictures (AIP) the previous decade, was the new face of the double feature. In July 1960, the latest Joseph E. Levine sword-and-sandals import, Hercules Unchained, opened at neighborhood theaters in New York. An 82-minute-long suspense film, Terror Is a Man, produced by a Manila-based, American-Philippine company, ran as a "co-feature." It had a now familiar sort of exploitation gimmick: "The dénouement helpfully includes a 'warning bell' so the sensitive can 'close their eyes.'" That year, Roger Corman took American International down a new road: "When they asked me to make two ten-day black-and-white horror films to play as a double feature, I convinced them instead to finance one horror film in color." A period piece in the vein of Britain's Hammer Films, House of Usher was a success, launching a series of Poe-based movies Corman would direct for AIP. It also typifies the continuing ambiguities of B-picture classification. House of Usher was clearly an A film by the standards of both director and studio, with the longest shooting schedule and biggest budget Corman had ever enjoyed. But from a latter-day perspective, it is regarded as a B movie—that schedule was a mere fifteen days, the budget just $200,000, one-tenth the industry average. Low-budget-movie aficionado John Reid reports once asking a neighborhood theater manager to define "B picture." The response: "Any movie that runs less than 80 minutes." House of Usher'''s running time is close, 85 minutes. And despite its high status in studio terms, it was not sent out into the world on its own, but screened in tandem with a crime melodrama asking the eternal question Why Must I Die?With the loosening of industry censorship constraints, the 1960s and 1970s saw a major expansion in the production and commercial viability of a variety of B-movie subgenres that have come to be known collectively as exploitation films. The term gained broader application as well: Exploitation-style promotional practices had become standard practice at the lower-budget end of the industry; with the majors having exited traditional B production, exploitation became a way to refer to the entire field of low-budget genre films. The combination of intensive and gimmick-laden publicity with movies featuring vulgar subject matter (as judged by mainstream standards) along with often outrageous imagery dated back decades—before such milestones as The Tingler (1959), before Women in Bondage (1943), before even The Terror of Tiny Town (1938). Exploitation had originally defined truly fringe productions with a dose of shocking content, made at the lowest depths of Poverty Row or entirely outside the Hollywood system. Many graphically depicted the wages of sin in the context of promoting prudent lifestyle choices, particularly "sexual hygiene." Audiences might see explicit footage of anything from a live birth to a ritual circumcision in such films. They were not generally booked as part of movie theaters' regular schedules but rather presented as special events by traveling roadshow promoters (they might also appear as fodder for "grindhouses," which typically had no regular schedule at all). The most famous of those promoters, Kroger Babb, was in the vanguard of marketing low-budget, sensationalistic films with a "100% saturation campaign," inundating the target audience with ads in almost any imaginable medium. In the era of the traditional double feature, no one would have characterized these exploitation films as "B movies." As production and exhibition practices changed, so did the definition.

Paragraph 10: Despite the many transformations in the industry, the average production cost of an American feature film was effectively stable over the course of the 1950s. In 1950, the figure had been $1 million; in 1961, it reached $2 million—after adjusting for inflation, the increase in real terms was less than 10 percent.  The traditional twin bill of B film preceding and balancing a subsequent-run A film had largely disappeared from American theaters. The dual genre-movie package, popularized by American International Pictures (AIP) the previous decade, was the new face of the double feature. In July 1960, the latest Joseph E. Levine sword-and-sandals import, Hercules Unchained, opened at neighborhood theaters in New York. An 82-minute-long suspense film, Terror Is a Man, produced by a Manila-based, American-Philippine company, ran as a "co-feature." It had a now familiar sort of exploitation gimmick: "The dénouement helpfully includes a 'warning bell' so the sensitive can 'close their eyes.'" That year, Roger Corman took American International down a new road: "When they asked me to make two ten-day black-and-white horror films to play as a double feature, I convinced them instead to finance one horror film in color." A period piece in the vein of Britain's Hammer Films, House of Usher was a success, launching a series of Poe-based movies Corman would direct for AIP. It also typifies the continuing ambiguities of B-picture classification. House of Usher was clearly an A film by the standards of both director and studio, with the longest shooting schedule and biggest budget Corman had ever enjoyed. But from a latter-day perspective, it is regarded as a B movie—that schedule was a mere fifteen days, the budget just $200,000, one-tenth the industry average. Low-budget-movie aficionado John Reid reports once asking a neighborhood theater manager to define "B picture." The response: "Any movie that runs less than 80 minutes." House of Usher'''s running time is close, 85 minutes. And despite its high status in studio terms, it was not sent out into the world on its own, but screened in tandem with a crime melodrama asking the eternal question Why Must I Die?With the loosening of industry censorship constraints, the 1960s and 1970s saw a major expansion in the production and commercial viability of a variety of B-movie subgenres that have come to be known collectively as exploitation films. The term gained broader application as well: Exploitation-style promotional practices had become standard practice at the lower-budget end of the industry; with the majors having exited traditional B production, exploitation became a way to refer to the entire field of low-budget genre films. The combination of intensive and gimmick-laden publicity with movies featuring vulgar subject matter (as judged by mainstream standards) along with often outrageous imagery dated back decades—before such milestones as The Tingler (1959), before Women in Bondage (1943), before even The Terror of Tiny Town (1938). Exploitation had originally defined truly fringe productions with a dose of shocking content, made at the lowest depths of Poverty Row or entirely outside the Hollywood system. Many graphically depicted the wages of sin in the context of promoting prudent lifestyle choices, particularly "sexual hygiene." Audiences might see explicit footage of anything from a live birth to a ritual circumcision in such films. They were not generally booked as part of movie theaters' regular schedules but rather presented as special events by traveling roadshow promoters (they might also appear as fodder for "grindhouses," which typically had no regular schedule at all). The most famous of those promoters, Kroger Babb, was in the vanguard of marketing low-budget, sensationalistic films with a "100% saturation campaign," inundating the target audience with ads in almost any imaginable medium. In the era of the traditional double feature, no one would have characterized these exploitation films as "B movies." As production and exhibition practices changed, so did the definition.

Paragraph 11: Staines was a member of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) and on its Supreme Council from 1921 to 1922. He served as Quartermaster General in the GPO during the 1916 Easter Rising and was later interned with his fellow insurgents at Frongoch internment camp. These men were served with internment orders under the Defence of the Realm Act 1914, which stated that they were "suspected of having honoured, promoted or assisted an armed insurrection against His Majesty". This meant that there were no charges, no court appearances and no pleas. Staines was elected Commandant of the prisoners after the former Commandant J. J. O'Connell was sent to Reading Gaol on 30 June. W.J. Brennan-Whitmore described Staines as: "a highly efficient officer who earned the love and respect of every individual prisoner." The attempts to conscript men in Frongoch to the British Army proved to be a serious source of disagreement between the prisoners and the camp authorities. The prisoners felt that it was ludicrous to expect Irish rebels to fight for Britain and the Crown. In addition, they were concerned that acceptance of conscription in Frongoch might be a prelude to the introduction of conscription in Ireland. Roughly sixty men in Frongoch had lived in Great Britain before the Rising and they were accordingly deemed liable for conscription. Staines, whom W. J. Brennan-Whitmore describes as maintaining "a very difficult position with remarkable efficiency and tact" throughout the conscription troubles which took place in Frongoch, took up a very resolute attitude on the question of identification. He asked Colonel F.A. Heygate-Lambert, Camp Commandant if he expected the prisoner leaders to identify comrades of theirs for military service in the British Army. To this Heygate-Lambert replied that it was the leaders' duty to identify men for all purposes. Staines retorted that by identifying the men for military service they would be lowering themselves to the level of spies and informers.

Paragraph 12: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 13: Despite the many transformations in the industry, the average production cost of an American feature film was effectively stable over the course of the 1950s. In 1950, the figure had been $1 million; in 1961, it reached $2 million—after adjusting for inflation, the increase in real terms was less than 10 percent.  The traditional twin bill of B film preceding and balancing a subsequent-run A film had largely disappeared from American theaters. The dual genre-movie package, popularized by American International Pictures (AIP) the previous decade, was the new face of the double feature. In July 1960, the latest Joseph E. Levine sword-and-sandals import, Hercules Unchained, opened at neighborhood theaters in New York. An 82-minute-long suspense film, Terror Is a Man, produced by a Manila-based, American-Philippine company, ran as a "co-feature." It had a now familiar sort of exploitation gimmick: "The dénouement helpfully includes a 'warning bell' so the sensitive can 'close their eyes.'" That year, Roger Corman took American International down a new road: "When they asked me to make two ten-day black-and-white horror films to play as a double feature, I convinced them instead to finance one horror film in color." A period piece in the vein of Britain's Hammer Films, House of Usher was a success, launching a series of Poe-based movies Corman would direct for AIP. It also typifies the continuing ambiguities of B-picture classification. House of Usher was clearly an A film by the standards of both director and studio, with the longest shooting schedule and biggest budget Corman had ever enjoyed. But from a latter-day perspective, it is regarded as a B movie—that schedule was a mere fifteen days, the budget just $200,000, one-tenth the industry average. Low-budget-movie aficionado John Reid reports once asking a neighborhood theater manager to define "B picture." The response: "Any movie that runs less than 80 minutes." House of Usher'''s running time is close, 85 minutes. And despite its high status in studio terms, it was not sent out into the world on its own, but screened in tandem with a crime melodrama asking the eternal question Why Must I Die?With the loosening of industry censorship constraints, the 1960s and 1970s saw a major expansion in the production and commercial viability of a variety of B-movie subgenres that have come to be known collectively as exploitation films. The term gained broader application as well: Exploitation-style promotional practices had become standard practice at the lower-budget end of the industry; with the majors having exited traditional B production, exploitation became a way to refer to the entire field of low-budget genre films. The combination of intensive and gimmick-laden publicity with movies featuring vulgar subject matter (as judged by mainstream standards) along with often outrageous imagery dated back decades—before such milestones as The Tingler (1959), before Women in Bondage (1943), before even The Terror of Tiny Town (1938). Exploitation had originally defined truly fringe productions with a dose of shocking content, made at the lowest depths of Poverty Row or entirely outside the Hollywood system. Many graphically depicted the wages of sin in the context of promoting prudent lifestyle choices, particularly "sexual hygiene." Audiences might see explicit footage of anything from a live birth to a ritual circumcision in such films. They were not generally booked as part of movie theaters' regular schedules but rather presented as special events by traveling roadshow promoters (they might also appear as fodder for "grindhouses," which typically had no regular schedule at all). The most famous of those promoters, Kroger Babb, was in the vanguard of marketing low-budget, sensationalistic films with a "100% saturation campaign," inundating the target audience with ads in almost any imaginable medium. In the era of the traditional double feature, no one would have characterized these exploitation films as "B movies." As production and exhibition practices changed, so did the definition.

Paragraph 14: Staines was a member of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) and on its Supreme Council from 1921 to 1922. He served as Quartermaster General in the GPO during the 1916 Easter Rising and was later interned with his fellow insurgents at Frongoch internment camp. These men were served with internment orders under the Defence of the Realm Act 1914, which stated that they were "suspected of having honoured, promoted or assisted an armed insurrection against His Majesty". This meant that there were no charges, no court appearances and no pleas. Staines was elected Commandant of the prisoners after the former Commandant J. J. O'Connell was sent to Reading Gaol on 30 June. W.J. Brennan-Whitmore described Staines as: "a highly efficient officer who earned the love and respect of every individual prisoner." The attempts to conscript men in Frongoch to the British Army proved to be a serious source of disagreement between the prisoners and the camp authorities. The prisoners felt that it was ludicrous to expect Irish rebels to fight for Britain and the Crown. In addition, they were concerned that acceptance of conscription in Frongoch might be a prelude to the introduction of conscription in Ireland. Roughly sixty men in Frongoch had lived in Great Britain before the Rising and they were accordingly deemed liable for conscription. Staines, whom W. J. Brennan-Whitmore describes as maintaining "a very difficult position with remarkable efficiency and tact" throughout the conscription troubles which took place in Frongoch, took up a very resolute attitude on the question of identification. He asked Colonel F.A. Heygate-Lambert, Camp Commandant if he expected the prisoner leaders to identify comrades of theirs for military service in the British Army. To this Heygate-Lambert replied that it was the leaders' duty to identify men for all purposes. Staines retorted that by identifying the men for military service they would be lowering themselves to the level of spies and informers.

Paragraph 15: Despite the many transformations in the industry, the average production cost of an American feature film was effectively stable over the course of the 1950s. In 1950, the figure had been $1 million; in 1961, it reached $2 million—after adjusting for inflation, the increase in real terms was less than 10 percent.  The traditional twin bill of B film preceding and balancing a subsequent-run A film had largely disappeared from American theaters. The dual genre-movie package, popularized by American International Pictures (AIP) the previous decade, was the new face of the double feature. In July 1960, the latest Joseph E. Levine sword-and-sandals import, Hercules Unchained, opened at neighborhood theaters in New York. An 82-minute-long suspense film, Terror Is a Man, produced by a Manila-based, American-Philippine company, ran as a "co-feature." It had a now familiar sort of exploitation gimmick: "The dénouement helpfully includes a 'warning bell' so the sensitive can 'close their eyes.'" That year, Roger Corman took American International down a new road: "When they asked me to make two ten-day black-and-white horror films to play as a double feature, I convinced them instead to finance one horror film in color." A period piece in the vein of Britain's Hammer Films, House of Usher was a success, launching a series of Poe-based movies Corman would direct for AIP. It also typifies the continuing ambiguities of B-picture classification. House of Usher was clearly an A film by the standards of both director and studio, with the longest shooting schedule and biggest budget Corman had ever enjoyed. But from a latter-day perspective, it is regarded as a B movie—that schedule was a mere fifteen days, the budget just $200,000, one-tenth the industry average. Low-budget-movie aficionado John Reid reports once asking a neighborhood theater manager to define "B picture." The response: "Any movie that runs less than 80 minutes." House of Usher'''s running time is close, 85 minutes. And despite its high status in studio terms, it was not sent out into the world on its own, but screened in tandem with a crime melodrama asking the eternal question Why Must I Die?With the loosening of industry censorship constraints, the 1960s and 1970s saw a major expansion in the production and commercial viability of a variety of B-movie subgenres that have come to be known collectively as exploitation films. The term gained broader application as well: Exploitation-style promotional practices had become standard practice at the lower-budget end of the industry; with the majors having exited traditional B production, exploitation became a way to refer to the entire field of low-budget genre films. The combination of intensive and gimmick-laden publicity with movies featuring vulgar subject matter (as judged by mainstream standards) along with often outrageous imagery dated back decades—before such milestones as The Tingler (1959), before Women in Bondage (1943), before even The Terror of Tiny Town (1938). Exploitation had originally defined truly fringe productions with a dose of shocking content, made at the lowest depths of Poverty Row or entirely outside the Hollywood system. Many graphically depicted the wages of sin in the context of promoting prudent lifestyle choices, particularly "sexual hygiene." Audiences might see explicit footage of anything from a live birth to a ritual circumcision in such films. They were not generally booked as part of movie theaters' regular schedules but rather presented as special events by traveling roadshow promoters (they might also appear as fodder for "grindhouses," which typically had no regular schedule at all). The most famous of those promoters, Kroger Babb, was in the vanguard of marketing low-budget, sensationalistic films with a "100% saturation campaign," inundating the target audience with ads in almost any imaginable medium. In the era of the traditional double feature, no one would have characterized these exploitation films as "B movies." As production and exhibition practices changed, so did the definition.

Paragraph 16: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 17: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 18: Despite the many transformations in the industry, the average production cost of an American feature film was effectively stable over the course of the 1950s. In 1950, the figure had been $1 million; in 1961, it reached $2 million—after adjusting for inflation, the increase in real terms was less than 10 percent.  The traditional twin bill of B film preceding and balancing a subsequent-run A film had largely disappeared from American theaters. The dual genre-movie package, popularized by American International Pictures (AIP) the previous decade, was the new face of the double feature. In July 1960, the latest Joseph E. Levine sword-and-sandals import, Hercules Unchained, opened at neighborhood theaters in New York. An 82-minute-long suspense film, Terror Is a Man, produced by a Manila-based, American-Philippine company, ran as a "co-feature." It had a now familiar sort of exploitation gimmick: "The dénouement helpfully includes a 'warning bell' so the sensitive can 'close their eyes.'" That year, Roger Corman took American International down a new road: "When they asked me to make two ten-day black-and-white horror films to play as a double feature, I convinced them instead to finance one horror film in color." A period piece in the vein of Britain's Hammer Films, House of Usher was a success, launching a series of Poe-based movies Corman would direct for AIP. It also typifies the continuing ambiguities of B-picture classification. House of Usher was clearly an A film by the standards of both director and studio, with the longest shooting schedule and biggest budget Corman had ever enjoyed. But from a latter-day perspective, it is regarded as a B movie—that schedule was a mere fifteen days, the budget just $200,000, one-tenth the industry average. Low-budget-movie aficionado John Reid reports once asking a neighborhood theater manager to define "B picture." The response: "Any movie that runs less than 80 minutes." House of Usher'''s running time is close, 85 minutes. And despite its high status in studio terms, it was not sent out into the world on its own, but screened in tandem with a crime melodrama asking the eternal question Why Must I Die?With the loosening of industry censorship constraints, the 1960s and 1970s saw a major expansion in the production and commercial viability of a variety of B-movie subgenres that have come to be known collectively as exploitation films. The term gained broader application as well: Exploitation-style promotional practices had become standard practice at the lower-budget end of the industry; with the majors having exited traditional B production, exploitation became a way to refer to the entire field of low-budget genre films. The combination of intensive and gimmick-laden publicity with movies featuring vulgar subject matter (as judged by mainstream standards) along with often outrageous imagery dated back decades—before such milestones as The Tingler (1959), before Women in Bondage (1943), before even The Terror of Tiny Town (1938). Exploitation had originally defined truly fringe productions with a dose of shocking content, made at the lowest depths of Poverty Row or entirely outside the Hollywood system. Many graphically depicted the wages of sin in the context of promoting prudent lifestyle choices, particularly "sexual hygiene." Audiences might see explicit footage of anything from a live birth to a ritual circumcision in such films. They were not generally booked as part of movie theaters' regular schedules but rather presented as special events by traveling roadshow promoters (they might also appear as fodder for "grindhouses," which typically had no regular schedule at all). The most famous of those promoters, Kroger Babb, was in the vanguard of marketing low-budget, sensationalistic films with a "100% saturation campaign," inundating the target audience with ads in almost any imaginable medium. In the era of the traditional double feature, no one would have characterized these exploitation films as "B movies." As production and exhibition practices changed, so did the definition.

Paragraph 19: The band was formed in 1994 under the early moniker Blind, but made their first performance as Godhead shortly after in Fairfax, Virginia that April. After fairly remaining in obscurity for a number of years, the band was noticed by Marilyn Manson and in 2000 signed a record contract with Manson, making them the first act of Posthuman Records. This deal culminated with the release of their breakthrough studio album in January 2001 entitled, 2000 Years of Human Error, which earned Godhead recognition by Ozzy Osbourne and landed them a spot on Ozzfest where the band headlined the second stage that same year. The album featured additional contributions by Marilyn Manson bassist Twiggy Ramirez, Scott Putesky (original guitarist for Marilyn Manson, formerly known as Daisy Berkowitz), as well as Manson himself. Despite being briefly hindered by the dissolution of Posthuman, the band has steadily developed a following since their breakthrough.  In the early years the band was managed by Scott Cohen.

Paragraph 20: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 21: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 22: Despite the many transformations in the industry, the average production cost of an American feature film was effectively stable over the course of the 1950s. In 1950, the figure had been $1 million; in 1961, it reached $2 million—after adjusting for inflation, the increase in real terms was less than 10 percent.  The traditional twin bill of B film preceding and balancing a subsequent-run A film had largely disappeared from American theaters. The dual genre-movie package, popularized by American International Pictures (AIP) the previous decade, was the new face of the double feature. In July 1960, the latest Joseph E. Levine sword-and-sandals import, Hercules Unchained, opened at neighborhood theaters in New York. An 82-minute-long suspense film, Terror Is a Man, produced by a Manila-based, American-Philippine company, ran as a "co-feature." It had a now familiar sort of exploitation gimmick: "The dénouement helpfully includes a 'warning bell' so the sensitive can 'close their eyes.'" That year, Roger Corman took American International down a new road: "When they asked me to make two ten-day black-and-white horror films to play as a double feature, I convinced them instead to finance one horror film in color." A period piece in the vein of Britain's Hammer Films, House of Usher was a success, launching a series of Poe-based movies Corman would direct for AIP. It also typifies the continuing ambiguities of B-picture classification. House of Usher was clearly an A film by the standards of both director and studio, with the longest shooting schedule and biggest budget Corman had ever enjoyed. But from a latter-day perspective, it is regarded as a B movie—that schedule was a mere fifteen days, the budget just $200,000, one-tenth the industry average. Low-budget-movie aficionado John Reid reports once asking a neighborhood theater manager to define "B picture." The response: "Any movie that runs less than 80 minutes." House of Usher'''s running time is close, 85 minutes. And despite its high status in studio terms, it was not sent out into the world on its own, but screened in tandem with a crime melodrama asking the eternal question Why Must I Die?With the loosening of industry censorship constraints, the 1960s and 1970s saw a major expansion in the production and commercial viability of a variety of B-movie subgenres that have come to be known collectively as exploitation films. The term gained broader application as well: Exploitation-style promotional practices had become standard practice at the lower-budget end of the industry; with the majors having exited traditional B production, exploitation became a way to refer to the entire field of low-budget genre films. The combination of intensive and gimmick-laden publicity with movies featuring vulgar subject matter (as judged by mainstream standards) along with often outrageous imagery dated back decades—before such milestones as The Tingler (1959), before Women in Bondage (1943), before even The Terror of Tiny Town (1938). Exploitation had originally defined truly fringe productions with a dose of shocking content, made at the lowest depths of Poverty Row or entirely outside the Hollywood system. Many graphically depicted the wages of sin in the context of promoting prudent lifestyle choices, particularly "sexual hygiene." Audiences might see explicit footage of anything from a live birth to a ritual circumcision in such films. They were not generally booked as part of movie theaters' regular schedules but rather presented as special events by traveling roadshow promoters (they might also appear as fodder for "grindhouses," which typically had no regular schedule at all). The most famous of those promoters, Kroger Babb, was in the vanguard of marketing low-budget, sensationalistic films with a "100% saturation campaign," inundating the target audience with ads in almost any imaginable medium. In the era of the traditional double feature, no one would have characterized these exploitation films as "B movies." As production and exhibition practices changed, so did the definition.

Paragraph 23: The band was formed in 1994 under the early moniker Blind, but made their first performance as Godhead shortly after in Fairfax, Virginia that April. After fairly remaining in obscurity for a number of years, the band was noticed by Marilyn Manson and in 2000 signed a record contract with Manson, making them the first act of Posthuman Records. This deal culminated with the release of their breakthrough studio album in January 2001 entitled, 2000 Years of Human Error, which earned Godhead recognition by Ozzy Osbourne and landed them a spot on Ozzfest where the band headlined the second stage that same year. The album featured additional contributions by Marilyn Manson bassist Twiggy Ramirez, Scott Putesky (original guitarist for Marilyn Manson, formerly known as Daisy Berkowitz), as well as Manson himself. Despite being briefly hindered by the dissolution of Posthuman, the band has steadily developed a following since their breakthrough.  In the early years the band was managed by Scott Cohen.

Paragraph 24: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 25: The band was formed in 1994 under the early moniker Blind, but made their first performance as Godhead shortly after in Fairfax, Virginia that April. After fairly remaining in obscurity for a number of years, the band was noticed by Marilyn Manson and in 2000 signed a record contract with Manson, making them the first act of Posthuman Records. This deal culminated with the release of their breakthrough studio album in January 2001 entitled, 2000 Years of Human Error, which earned Godhead recognition by Ozzy Osbourne and landed them a spot on Ozzfest where the band headlined the second stage that same year. The album featured additional contributions by Marilyn Manson bassist Twiggy Ramirez, Scott Putesky (original guitarist for Marilyn Manson, formerly known as Daisy Berkowitz), as well as Manson himself. Despite being briefly hindered by the dissolution of Posthuman, the band has steadily developed a following since their breakthrough.  In the early years the band was managed by Scott Cohen.

Paragraph 26: Despite the many transformations in the industry, the average production cost of an American feature film was effectively stable over the course of the 1950s. In 1950, the figure had been $1 million; in 1961, it reached $2 million—after adjusting for inflation, the increase in real terms was less than 10 percent.  The traditional twin bill of B film preceding and balancing a subsequent-run A film had largely disappeared from American theaters. The dual genre-movie package, popularized by American International Pictures (AIP) the previous decade, was the new face of the double feature. In July 1960, the latest Joseph E. Levine sword-and-sandals import, Hercules Unchained, opened at neighborhood theaters in New York. An 82-minute-long suspense film, Terror Is a Man, produced by a Manila-based, American-Philippine company, ran as a "co-feature." It had a now familiar sort of exploitation gimmick: "The dénouement helpfully includes a 'warning bell' so the sensitive can 'close their eyes.'" That year, Roger Corman took American International down a new road: "When they asked me to make two ten-day black-and-white horror films to play as a double feature, I convinced them instead to finance one horror film in color." A period piece in the vein of Britain's Hammer Films, House of Usher was a success, launching a series of Poe-based movies Corman would direct for AIP. It also typifies the continuing ambiguities of B-picture classification. House of Usher was clearly an A film by the standards of both director and studio, with the longest shooting schedule and biggest budget Corman had ever enjoyed. But from a latter-day perspective, it is regarded as a B movie—that schedule was a mere fifteen days, the budget just $200,000, one-tenth the industry average. Low-budget-movie aficionado John Reid reports once asking a neighborhood theater manager to define "B picture." The response: "Any movie that runs less than 80 minutes." House of Usher'''s running time is close, 85 minutes. And despite its high status in studio terms, it was not sent out into the world on its own, but screened in tandem with a crime melodrama asking the eternal question Why Must I Die?With the loosening of industry censorship constraints, the 1960s and 1970s saw a major expansion in the production and commercial viability of a variety of B-movie subgenres that have come to be known collectively as exploitation films. The term gained broader application as well: Exploitation-style promotional practices had become standard practice at the lower-budget end of the industry; with the majors having exited traditional B production, exploitation became a way to refer to the entire field of low-budget genre films. The combination of intensive and gimmick-laden publicity with movies featuring vulgar subject matter (as judged by mainstream standards) along with often outrageous imagery dated back decades—before such milestones as The Tingler (1959), before Women in Bondage (1943), before even The Terror of Tiny Town (1938). Exploitation had originally defined truly fringe productions with a dose of shocking content, made at the lowest depths of Poverty Row or entirely outside the Hollywood system. Many graphically depicted the wages of sin in the context of promoting prudent lifestyle choices, particularly "sexual hygiene." Audiences might see explicit footage of anything from a live birth to a ritual circumcision in such films. They were not generally booked as part of movie theaters' regular schedules but rather presented as special events by traveling roadshow promoters (they might also appear as fodder for "grindhouses," which typically had no regular schedule at all). The most famous of those promoters, Kroger Babb, was in the vanguard of marketing low-budget, sensationalistic films with a "100% saturation campaign," inundating the target audience with ads in almost any imaginable medium. In the era of the traditional double feature, no one would have characterized these exploitation films as "B movies." As production and exhibition practices changed, so did the definition.

Paragraph 27: The album's recording sessions between West and Brion were largely exploratory, as the pair experimented with a broad spectrum of sounds. West would construct a song's basic structure, bringing in a sample, drum beat programming, and occasionally unfinished rap verses. After thinking through what musical direction to take, he would then select from a variety of unique instruments that Brion both provided and played, including drums and strings. With the instruments, West attempted to incorporate a distinctive sound into the song's texture. West envisioned the recording as the creation of a film: visualizing the songs as scenes, outlining each in such a way that they efficiently conveyed their respective social or introspective context, and ensuring all were synchronized within the fabric of the complete set. This sentiment was shared by Brion who said, "He thinks in frequency ranges. I can recognize when someone sees music architecturally, which is how I work. I see it as a spatial thing: left to right, front to back, up and down. It's animated and it's moving in real time. Kanye has that. He tries things out until it fits, until it sits where it is supposed to sit and everything has the correct emotional function."

Paragraph 28: Staines was a member of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) and on its Supreme Council from 1921 to 1922. He served as Quartermaster General in the GPO during the 1916 Easter Rising and was later interned with his fellow insurgents at Frongoch internment camp. These men were served with internment orders under the Defence of the Realm Act 1914, which stated that they were "suspected of having honoured, promoted or assisted an armed insurrection against His Majesty". This meant that there were no charges, no court appearances and no pleas. Staines was elected Commandant of the prisoners after the former Commandant J. J. O'Connell was sent to Reading Gaol on 30 June. W.J. Brennan-Whitmore described Staines as: "a highly efficient officer who earned the love and respect of every individual prisoner." The attempts to conscript men in Frongoch to the British Army proved to be a serious source of disagreement between the prisoners and the camp authorities. The prisoners felt that it was ludicrous to expect Irish rebels to fight for Britain and the Crown. In addition, they were concerned that acceptance of conscription in Frongoch might be a prelude to the introduction of conscription in Ireland. Roughly sixty men in Frongoch had lived in Great Britain before the Rising and they were accordingly deemed liable for conscription. Staines, whom W. J. Brennan-Whitmore describes as maintaining "a very difficult position with remarkable efficiency and tact" throughout the conscription troubles which took place in Frongoch, took up a very resolute attitude on the question of identification. He asked Colonel F.A. Heygate-Lambert, Camp Commandant if he expected the prisoner leaders to identify comrades of theirs for military service in the British Army. To this Heygate-Lambert replied that it was the leaders' duty to identify men for all purposes. Staines retorted that by identifying the men for military service they would be lowering themselves to the level of spies and informers.

Answer: 4