Thursday, July 7th, 2011

I drew that in 1995. It was from a dream I had. I put it in the CLONES video. It still makes me feel a certain way. I am a very different beast today than I was then, for the most part a man of peace, but I still consider that thing up there to be unhuman and belonging at the bottom of the lake, and I would quite happily put it there.

As mentioned elsewhere on the site, grotesque ass-rag and world famous British Murdoch media publication The News Of The World is being shut down, a rotting, puss volcano of a limb hacked off to save the rest of the body, but that does not mean that the empire is over, or even wobbling. Sky, Fox, The Sun, The Times etc are THE SAME THING, and the closure of their red-topped Sunday print representative (until a suitable replacement is birthed) does not mean the closure of the operation. It means removal of a rotting, puss volcano of a limb to save the rest of the body.

Have you ever seen a rotting, puss volcano of a limb? I have. I’ve seen a few. I have lived with Junk People. One time I was sleeping on my matress in the corner of the squat, and I was awoken – for the first time, never since – by a vast and terrible stench. It was the terrible stench of a man whose legs had been cut off to save the rest of the body, and whose addiction had kept him injecting into the unhealed stumps, which boiled and bubbled and festered with puss and stink. His friends, my benefactors, had carried him up the stairs, to hang out and shoot dope with them. They were all so far gone down their particular roads that the stench did not shock them. I was 18, and it woke me up.

I never shot any dope with those guys. I could see what it had done to them. They were for the most part beautiful, kind, generous human beings, slaves to a sickness, and the acquisition of money to found that sickness. That’s what our society is like. That’s what the world we’ve built up around us.

We had some good times, me and my junkie friends. It was the summer, and we spent many happy afternoons in Finsbury park in the sunshine. But those moments were mere punctuation in their life’s work: the acquisition of funds to buy junk, the consumption of junk, the attempts to come off junk, and the grim sumbmission to junk once those attempts had failed.

I have been trying hard to come off the junk all my life. I haven’t had a television since 2003, and I guess that’s been one tiny victory against the sickness. I don’t buy their rotten newspapers. It’s easy enough to not buy them after a short while, but British transport is full of temptation. I caught myself slipping the other day on the Central Line – I’d gotten through 5 foul pages of The Metro before I realised what I was doing. I felt nothing afterwards but the grime under my mental fingernails. The filthy turd-in-a-puddle aftershocks of institutionalised idiocy and person-programming.

But for the most part, I am still in. I am in the game. I eat their crap. I fall back into idiot habbits like drinking Pepsi every few months. I waste my bullshit money on their bullshit films (HAI GREEN LANTERN!). I chase their bullshit money!

But, sheeee-it, I try. We all try. We do our best. And I am proud of us. Little by little, we’re getting there. The light at the end of the tunnel is only a train if you say it is.

Hey, look what I found in my inbox! It’s some new music from the artist formerly known as Mothboy. I dig it a lot. He says he’s gonna get Jeres to sing on it. I think that’s gonna be rad.

Slowraiders Demo Instrumental by slowraiders

You know what else happend today? Did sent loads more swag to loads more people. Lookit that swag!

I also made a beat for this awesome rapper I’ve come across recently called Time. It’s for The Manga Mixtape. I think it’s ace. I had it on loop for the whole time it took me to write this post.

Oh, and that rubber grill I was telling you about, with the bleach in? It’s working! Look at that! 7 days until my wedding, and will be have me a non-borked smile, to go with the non-borked back I’m insisting on. I have had to cancel my appreance at that Ritzy gig in Brixton tomorrow night as it is still in a bad way, but it will be better by next Friday with some love and care. Love and care fix most things.

— Thursday, July 7th, 2011

Tuesday, August 31st, 2010

What were the last words I wrote to you in this section of the site?

…I am totally going to a wedding in bloody Grimsby tomorrow, so I shall try very hard not to go apeshit on whiskey and flee alone into the night like a greased piglet shot out of a cannon. It shouldn’t be too hard, as I have matured an awful lot this past year thank you.

Yeah. Well. I DIDN’T go apeshit on whiskey at all. Because they didn’t have any whiskey. But they DID have a flipping GALACTEAN HORDE of BEER, and you know I don’t normally fux with beer too hard. So. Yeah. I totally drank beer for 12 hours, from 5pm till 5am, then I went to bed, and when I got up at 10 or whatever I guess I was still pissed, because the hangover didn’t really start kicking me in the head and the stomach with like, real, supervillainous ferocity until we were half way home and racing down the M1, which is a motorway, if you don’t know, and the nausea I’d been feeling all day cranked itself up into the terrible realms of super-turbo-ultra-nausea and I projectile vomited out the window with a great and thunderous force for about 3 minutes, scattering three lanes of traffic behind us like the proverbial Lolcat Amongst The Pigeons and covering the whole left side of the car with BILE.

Never again, etc.

“How old are you?” sighed my Dear Mother, disapprovingly, which was a silly question as she knows full well how old I am (30), and I’ve never heard of people suddenly becoming immune to booze once they flee their twenties. My experience points to the opposite – I rarely used to get sick on booze, not since I was a teenager and I got good at taking shots, and certainly not from hangovers. But that is the trick life plays on a man – you just get to the point where you figure you understand yourself a bit, you get some mastery of yourself, then suddenly your body decides its time to thwart, that it is going to revolt, and you spend the rest of your life in a toilet-esque downward spiral of physical collapse. Whoever said their body was a temple drank different water to me, that’s for certain. My body is like one of those cheap-ass mosques they have next door to the “Perfect Fried Chicken” shops in decrepit Northern Towns.

But I am trying, dear reader! Yesterday Jeres and I were dismayed to arrive at the gym at 6pm and find it shut, because of the Banking Holidays, but neither of us breathed a secret sigh of relief and buggered off to the chippy. Nay, we took ourselves of to Finsbury Park, and ran around a portion of it in a circle, to one of these Great Outdoor Gym things, which are fucking hilarious and I recommend to all. The machines are not like traditional gym machines – they’re based around lifting your body wight via pulleys and things, and the experience is basically like being a 5 year old in a jungle gym. I spent a good ten minutes straight laughing my ass off – at Jeres and a 4 year old girl on a wiggly hip-machine, and myself on some weird pulley-see-saw with my little legs swinging in the air, mostly – and you know what they say about laughter being some dope-ass medicine. I am happy to confirm that shit is TRUTH. I felt fucking great afterwards. Then that rotten bastard Jeres made me run back around the park. I’d never run around a park. Shit is way harder than treadmills. They gots hills in parks, for a start. By the end I thought my eyeballs were going to pop out and trip me over or something. I felt like I’d done late-nineties level ecstasy. I collapsed on the grass and shrieked my amazement.

Today I have been working my ass off, which is my new thing – I am raising money to pay for my album campaign. Pluggers, press officers, that shit is expense, and it’s gotta come from somewhere. So I am utilising the skills I have amassed – illustration, design, video editing, html, all that good stuff, to make me some substantial DOUGH, and I am gonna use that DOUGH to get my amazing album some SHINE, cos there is no way I have out in all this fucking work for the thing to pop out noticed while a great wet shower of dickless frauds hog the top 10. Ufck that in the eye with a cotdang batarang, thanks very much. Ole!

Oh, speaking of which, there’s brand new Oddfuture awesomeness in the Blob Blog, go check that shit out, you might like it. Right now it’s time for me to put my music hat back on, and vocal some ATD25 dope. See you on the Doncast tomorrow, brothers and sisters.


— Tuesday, August 31st, 2010

Friday, October 17th, 2008

— Friday, October 17th, 2008

Monday, November 6th, 2006

— Monday, November 6th, 2006