Um, some guy wrote a song about killing Michael Azerrad, and his defense is that the critic had transcended the physical, just like the music. I don't know if that'll hold up in court. It's a LAME defense (lol):

I decided to confront my would-be assassin and phoned Joe Prendergast, their 20-year-old singer-guitarist. He turned out to be a soft-spoken college student from suburban London and didn't seem overly homicidal. Prendergast said he was simply mixing an instrumental on his laptop while a copy of Our Band Could Be Your Life lay nearby. "I didn't want to save [the file] as 'Untitled Project,' " he said. "I saw your name on the book and I was like, 'Azerrad' has definitely got a swing to it.

"It must be surreal for you," Prendergast continued. "I'm really sorry about that, man. I didn't want to freak you out. You were kind of an abstract concept -- all I knew of you was your name, not as a flesh-and-blood being."

I often forget that I have a funny little quasi fame. "You're like an MP3 online," Prendergast explained. "Anyone can do whatever they want with you. They can cut you up and make a little remix."