So, you were all right, Batman was dope. I love Christian Bale. Don’t just look at it. Eat it. What a cast! What a Batmobile! What an excellent growly voice affected to hide dude’s identity!

The sun shines here in England-land, and the tree sperm invades my face. I don’t mind too much, because I am a sun-worshipper, and have spent the past few days not wearing clothes as often as possible. Yesterday my old man took me for a picnic and I got bitten on the leg by a horsefly. My left calf is twice the size of the right one. It is pretty gully.

Now, I hate to have to say this, but really, stop hating on the Game. 300 Bars And Runnin Is GREAT. Whaddya mean too long? I am a person who loves rap, and one rarely gets to hear a dude spit for fifteen minutes. And man, if he could keep up that level of beat dopery, and that fluidity in his flow, I would listen to his ass rap about fucking Star Wars figurines for an hour, I swear. I LOVE RAP! RAP IS ACE! Yeah, I heard the rumour Iovine and Dre and Em are gonna cock block his next album to placate Fiddy. People tell me I should be scared. Whatever. I shall just keep doing what I am doing. Maybe I’ll go a bit harder, is all.

So, I was supposed to be doing some cover shoot for some MOBOS thing with all the other hottest new rappers in the game, but they only told me this morning, so I can’t make it. I got shit to do. So when you see the thing, and you’re all like, where’s the fuckin DON? Surely THE DON is the hottest rapper in the game - well, know that.

So, that dope picture up there was sent in today by one of my peoples, Jesse Figueroa. He did it in MS Paint. THAT IS FUCKING FRESH. I’m getting lots of these, so I might have to start a special section on the site.

My old man, he say, “ignorance is bliss”.

Which is true.

But so is lying in the middle of the road in the pissing rain with a bag full of heroin racing through your bloodstream. And I wouldn’t recommend it for all my brothers and sisters.

So, the happy fascist ID Card system continues. Cleverly they held the vote while half the empees were off looking at that Trafalgar reenactment with the Queen.

Encouragingly, the swine’s majority was cut from 67 to 31. Boris Jonson voted against, along with the rest of the Tories, the Lib Dems, and some rebellious New Labour heads who don’t mind losing their trips abroad.

So, there is, as, ever, hope. I mean, Bony Tlair does tend to get his way, but serious, you won’t catch me with no Goddamn ID card. They don’t own me, Bub. Nor you. And if you happen to carry one of those cancerous “loyalty cards”, it is not the same - it is similar, but if, for example, you are a Tesco person, you can quite happily go to Safeway and those Tesco people won’t know.

Have I mentioned, it’s the same people running the ID Card technology that were working out how hard to work those captive Jews back in the thirties? They kind of saw it coming, but they never thought it would happen to them - not there.

A wise man learns from history. Doobie doobie.

The aforementioned Boris has written an excellent piece about smoking on his website, by the way, a subject dear to my heart. I am struggling with it at the moment, but can feel the day of reckoning is close. I was a bit sad earlier, because some of my people have no sense of history and believe whatever they’re told by the telly or the news or politicians.

Many, many years ago, as is well known, the everlasting lightbulb was invented. Yet still, we all go out every couple of weeks, and spend a quid or whatever on these weird ancient lightbulbs that pop weeks later. And we don’t think about it.

I wonder - do you think there is really no cure for the common cold? Or do you think that perhaps, there is - but the drugs indutry makes a huge, grotesque, obscene ammount of wong out of so-called medicine and would much rather we all keep buying their crap than, like, never catch a cold again?

Do you think if there were a cure for cancer, it would be made aviliable? Or do you think they’d keep it their little secret, bump off the doctors involved, and keep making millions out of their drugs? Given that patents run out asfter seven years and all.

Do you think it’s weird that, two months after the British and the Americans went all over Africa vaccinating people against, - what was it, smallpox? - two months after, AIDS is all over that bitch like golddiggers at an Usher afterparty?

Do you think, my peoples, that I am too, too, too cynical? You think I can sleep at night?

Because I can. I seep like a baby. And that is because I have a vast, somesay blind, somesay naive belief in my fellow man. I think we are amazing, because they have pulled this shit on us for time eternal, yet here we are, making terrible pop music and telling bad jokes (although we don’t tell as many jokes as we used to… but that is another story) and arguing with each other about stupid things like TV shows. We are beautiful! WE RULE! So I believe we can prevail, that there is a future for us that does not involve gas chambers. I do!

What’s going down right now is exactly the same as what went down when Hitler first got in. If you have even the most vague notion of modern history (and I have less), it is as evident as those whopping great elephantine earjugs that sprout rudely from the side of Charles Clarke’s sweaty pink head. Shit is hardcore serious right now. Ignorance might be bliss, but it will soon turn to horror. Ask any junkie what happens when the smack runs out.

That dude in the middle teaches Czech people English.

He is also my brother, as is the one on the right. We was in Prague, where that middle one who is called Alexander does the teaching, and, um, the drinking. Prague is very pretty, but full of grotesque puppets and grumpy Czechs and elephantine Saes (English) with shiny bal’eads and football shirts. I hardly saw any actual Czechs. But they do have pretty amazing sculpture, all over the place, like, gods poking out from underneath windowsills and shit. Four ugly brothers. Superman with his head stuck in the ground, seemingly having crashed into the EARTH. And bad modern sculpture in the town centre. A nice big old river with a fake beach next to it. Rotten food. Not that I am a fan of food I suppose.

Still. We had a very nice time, thank you. Probably I liked playing football in the blazing sun with random people from all over the world best, despite complaining that I’d sooner die of woodlice prior.

I am in Hampshire now. Marek and I got the plane back last night, and he went to mine to hang with Wade, but I came here. I had an excellent train journey, and met some lovely dude called Chris who deejays progressive house, and some nice girls who sing Queen songs loudly, and I deejayed off of my laptop and old ladies were dancing about the carriage to Sweet Caroline.

Anyone seen the new Batman? Is it any good?

Also. I hear Bob Geldof turned up at Glastonbury and got a field full of douchebags to chant “make poverty history”. Someone should tear that douchebag imperialist’s stupid fucking face off and stick up Bono’s arse. John Pilger summed it all up perfectly in an article for this week’s New Statesman. Cop it.

Not that you can really tell where a day starts when you haven’t slept, but certainly, today started badly. Despite staying up all night and leaving the house in good time, crappy Kings Cross roadworks ensured I missed my plane, which flew off into the sky at 11:30 am. The next one with a free steat is at 6:30. I felt quite dreadful at that point, wandering around this giant drafty air hanger that is Gatwick Airport. BUT! There was a Starbucks, so I had one of those Caramel Mocohoca things I got into in New York, which sort of helped a bit. And Mary pointed out that it was sunny outside and I should find some grass, so I did. As it was, I found a pound, with great big fish in it, and a secluded spot in which to lounge about in my pants and read Private Eye and listen to my brilliant mixtape. And look at the giant fish. I was a bit scared of the fish.

Oh my peoples, what a glorious day! I did lounge and sun and do NOTHING, which I haven’t done in time. Missing that plane was the best thing I’ve done in ages. As it is, I haven’t seen much sun at all, as I feel I should be making noises or answering emails or, like, Doing Stuff all the time. And I did sod all today, save watch fish, and stoats (well, stoat, but I haven’t seen one of them in ages), and brush ants off of my glistening person.

I did that for a long time, but had to check in just. Gatwick is full of amazing breasts, with heads on top that smile at me. And I met some of my peoples in the crap record shop that doesn’t have the Kano album in. There were these two little dudes and a girl all in Greenday shirts shouting “AKIRA THE DON OI! NAaaaaAH!” Which is Bashy’s catchphrase, but still. Amazingly, one of them had downloaded the mixtape this morning and had it on his gayPod mini. They were off to Manchester, I think, which seems weird, it’s only a few hours on the train isn’t it? Anyway, big up you three.

Oh, I met a lovely old lady by a tree having a fag as well, and then her daughter. She was trying to set me up with her daughter. That was weird. Actually, I suppose isn’t that weird, but still.

ANYWAY! I am going to run into the pub and have a swift one, and not miss my plane, innit. I’ll write something of some substance later.

PEACE.

Oh! I nearly forgot. I went to the bogs earlier, this morning, and ,marvelled at the cleanliness. And then I returned to the same bogs a minute ago, and someone had written, in massive letters on the inside of the door:

WOT THE FUCK

YOU LOOKIN AT

SHITTY ASS

UR All

GAY

BASTARDS

He’d underlined BASTARDS. People kick ass.

I DID IT AGAIN!

Stay up all night doing a mixtape when I have a plane to catch, that is.

So, I am a bit boozy and smoky and sticky, given the heat and the hours put in, and shall mayhap sleep on the plane and miss THE VIEW… but I am sure you’ll be happy, so I am happy too.

So, the obligatory tracklisting for ATD9, ONLINE NOW!:

Narstie, Solo, Bashy & Akira The Don - Diamonds, Mines
Roll Deep - Shake A Leg
Looptroop - Fort Europa
Fat Joe - Beat Novacaine
Big Pun - Firewater
Dead Prez & Talib Kweli - Sharp Shooters
Black Market Militia - Thug Nation
Anth Latue - Life’s Crazy Part II
Akira The Don feat. John Travolta, Olivia Newton John, ODB, Ludacris, Beni Benassi & Wade Crescent - Rawgrease
System Of A Down feat Lil KIm - Violent Pornography
The Streets feat Roll Deep - Let’s Push Things Forward (Remix)
Bruza - Get Me
Akon VS Biggie & Kim Jong II - Ronery (ATD mix)
George Fornby - With Me Little Stick Of Blackpool Rock
AKira The Don feat. Bashy - Oh! (What A Glorious Things)
Aceyalone, Zack de la Rocha, Dead Prez, Black Thought, Goldii Loks, Pharoahe Monch, Wise Intelligent, Chuck D, Slimkid Tre, Gene Gray, Channel Live, Divine Styler, Sayeed, Tragedy, The Last Emperor, & p.e.a.c.e. - Mumia 911
Damian Marley - Jamrock
Paul Oakenfold feat Nelly Furtado & Tricky - The Harder They Come
Akira The Don VS Dead Prez & Cyndi Lauper - Time
Cex- Furcoat
Jehst & Yungun - Spend It On
Diamond D feat. Big L, Lord Finesse, A.G. & Fat Joe - 5 Fingas Of Death
Narstie, Solo & Akira The Don - Still
Bill Bailey - Unisex Chip Shop
Face - Stress
Akira The Don VS Snoop Dogg, Bronski Beat & Belinda Carlisle - Smalltown Boi

I am going to Prague in the morning to see my little brother innit.

So before that, I gotta get Keith Tenniswood’s remix bits finished, ATD9 finished, the artwork finished, ETC!

No sun for me yet.

I used to be quite good at writing, I discovered this morning. I never read my old stuff, but one of my peoples sent me this demanding to know if it was me. Which it was.

I “missed” Flav on The Farm, cos I don’t have a telly, and I was in America at the time anyway. I saw a tiny bit of that show he did for MTV. It was fucking shocking. Viacom continue to reinforce the same anti-black caricature they were pushing a hundred years ago (see pic). If it’s not the potential-rapist “thug” face 50 shows, it’s the subservient fool dribbling over a white woman. Cop Charlie Braxton’s open heart. Then go here, if you never have, it is facinating.

Coyness, is, indeed, nice.

But it WILL stop you.

I know this. Not that that helps. Sometimes a person can know the alphabet backwards yet still fail to recognise a “Z” when it is smacking them about the head.

WHACK!

WHACK!

Monkeys, iPods, ook.

I never whored myself, you know. I was gully and conceited.

So, I stayed up till just gone midnight doing a mix for The Selector, which was making me happy, as it was fun. Whacking Swiss and me over Pulp and shit. Jehst and Klash and Sov and Face and shit. GALANG. And, lo, so reach-ed I the finalle, when there was a mighty buzzing at my door. BRRRRING! BRRRRRRRRRRRING! And I ignored it at first, as usually the door is made noisy by pals slash drunks slash lady folk of Wade. But eventually I found it was in fact Jeres, who was drunk, and needing some vague refuge after a row with his better halves (girlfriend, bandmate).

So I never got the early night I was planning. Jeres got booze, and had a song in him he needed excorsising, and it was very beautiful. We shall finish it tommorrow - he just left - and I need to render this mix and send it to its new home. I shan’t bother going to bed a whee while yet, as Wade shall no doubt return from Rakehells’ with an army of drunk children and start making smoothies and bacon, and waking up to children and bacon after minutes of sleep gives me gip. Better that I am awake and slightly Steptoe, as opposed to full blown..

I am going to Prague tommorrow, aparently. Which seems odd.

So, one of my peoples emailed about my nice see through rock. He say it is “probably rock quartz or calcite [if it is see through, and it’s calcite, it’s a relatively rare form known as Iceland Spar - woop de hoop!!!!]… We shouldn’t entirely dismiss the possibility that you stumbled upon London’s only vent of kimberlite, a carbon-rich volcanic rock which coughs up diamonds more frequently than Pete Doherty coughs up excuses for no-shows wreathed in crack smoke.”

I like that. Eloquent my peoples. HAHAHA, I have a fuckin rock of CALCITE, bitch!

I thought for a whee while I was turning into a robot, made of metal and grease and calculations, you know. I didn’t ever remember dreams unless they were terrible nightmares.

Do you realise how relentless I have been for the last, um, long time since I stopped beign a foolish druggist?

Very relentless, Bub. Relentless turns into ludgubrious quicker than you can say Towers Of London are the greatest band in the world.

Balance, context, innit.

Speaking of which, dear old Larry Silverstein - the genius who once owned a couple of the World Trade buildings, but cleverly bought the lot, and took out a record insurance policy on them, months prior to the cinematic events of September 11th 2001 - has finally responded to the outrage he caused when he said on telly he’d given orders to “pull” (demolish) building 7, which WAS NOT HIT BY NUFFINK. His response? He didn’t mean demolish. Didn’t say what he did mean. I said it cos it’s true - dude’s a genius.

Say word!

I am a very bad son. I missed my Mam’s birthday on Friday, and Old Man’s Day on Sunday.

I am a bit sad because I suck. I am definitely not organised enough yet. Living in bedlam is unhelpful, but no excuse for SUCKING.

Hey, special lala, since ATD9 is out on Friday, that means ATD10 will be with you in July. So to celebrate, we shall be having a PARTY, with Mr Eddy Temple Morris at Cargo in London. It shall be on Friday the 15th, and I shall be assembling as many of the folks who’ve made the tapes so dope to do tracks off of them LIVE, innit.

So that will be exciting.

I am indoors missing the sunshine, but prolly most of you are too. We paddled on Sunday you know. I found a see through rock. It isn’t glass at all, bollocks.

Summer is finally with us in the UK. My band and I played the Middlesbrough Festival yesterday, which was brilliant. IT was boiling hot sunny, then it turned into a big ass storm, of some Goliath magnificence. It stopped raining when we played, but there was lightning. And moshing townies. And kids at the front who knew the words to One Bullet and Oh! and shit. And people snogging when we did Love. BIG UP YOUR BAD SELVES!

We did a brand new song, and that went down best of all (apart from Clones), weirdly, ’specially with the scallies. So that one’s next on my Record Proper list.

Hey! Those crazy nu-imperialists are trying to BAKE US ALIVE! Weirdos. And along with that, they’re insistent on throwing trillions of dollars into outer space. These people are fucking NUTS, spa. Serious. I am just glad it is a pretty day here, is all.

“We don’t have to protect the environment, the Second Coming is at hand.”

James Watt said that, what, fifteen years ago? He was Secretary of the Interior during the Reagan Administration. Responsible for National Policy regarding the Environment. AND YOU WONDER WHY SHIT IS AS IT IS! You think the attitude is any different now?

“I don’t know that atheists should be considered citizens, nor should they be considered patriots. This is one nation under God.”

That was Daddy George Bush. I had another dream about him last night. He had me tied to this stone slab in the middle of a forest, all the tree trunks surrounding me were jet black, like they’d been painted with tar, and he was trying to stick his fingers up my ass. I tore a great chunk of flesh out of his neck with my teeth and it crumbled in my mouth like meringue.

Anyway. The minds that shape the world. Cheers Moth for that.

Oh, I meant to mention this ages ago, but Brian Harvey, be safe dude. Much Love to you man, keep your head up. There’s more to life than Heat spreads, it’s all good, you’ll be fine. You’re a legend man, serious.

Fuck an ID card.

Serious. Click that shit, put your name down. First we try the peaceful, reasoning, shit. If that fails, we take it to the streets. If that fails we run up on Charles Clarke and slice his fucking ears off. Blow up Parliment. Word.

A writer writing in Kerrang! said I “make Goldie Lookin Chain look like poets” today. Lady, Gee El Cee ARE poets! Don’t hate! AND! Don’t sleep! None a ya! Swiss’ Pain Is Muziq done got national distribution, so you need to get the fuck out of your chair and go buy that shit right now, because it is a fucking beautiful record.

SERIOUS!

Man, I’m a form a funk thrash metal group and sign to Captains Of Industry, I just decided.

Oh, here’s some good news from WuTangCorp.com (welcome back!):

First of all, the long awaited and most anticipated 5th Ghostface album is finally taking form. So far 18 songs have been recorded. Producers include MF Doom, Louis Parker [not OUR Lewis Parker! Sweet!], Wisemen, Pete Rock and Nottz. The RZA is also scheduled to contribute beats to the album at a later stage. The album will include a song featuring the entire Wu-tang Clan including vocals by the late Ol’ Dirty Bastard [RIP], as well as a song featuring Ghostface’s son by the name of Sun God. Ghost says he’s happy at Def Jam and has described his relationship with Jay-Z (current President of the Island Def Jam Group] as a very inspiring and supportive one [WHOO!]. The album is tentavily scheduled for a release in September, but most likely to change. Ghostface will also release a volume 2 to his ‘718′ compilation on Koch Records later this year .

Oh, come ON!

They’re only trying to, um, amend the 22nd amendment!

That being the bit that says “thou shalt get booted from office after two terms”.

Serious! They’re NUTS, spa! We are through the motherfucking looking glass now peoples! WE ARE IN NUTSVILLE!

But even super crazy NUTBARS have to write emails. Click that and observe amazing English email, from 2002, starring one T Blair getting his ASS KISSED FOR WAR.

So. I made three songs this weekend, one of which is, like, not rap. Well, not really. It doesn’t have a beat. And the talking is more, uh, melodic. Actually, I am usually pretty melodic. WHATEVER MAN. Voice and words. I am not pulling some Cex shit on you though, don’t worry. Tracked a pair of straight up BANGERS in the Dairy with Narstie and Bashy and Solo for ATD9, which will be with you NEXT WEEK, tarantara.

SKYGODBEDAMNED! I am full of tree sperm. AND IT’S NOT EVEN SUNNY ON THIS STUPID ROCK! Naaaaaaaaaah!

I wrote yesterday:

“Dude, today is STOKEFEST!

Yeah, we got us a festival in Stoke Newington. I mean, its more of fete. Its not bad or nuffink though. We saw Skinnyman play earlier.”

Then I got distracted and didn’t finish the post izzit. Hey though - this new ish I done dun with Narstie and Solo and Bashy and Matt F is AWETHOME, dude, serious.

I’m not trying to start a beef here but SAS’s version of Diamonds? Oi. Nah.

Big up Jacko! CREAM! Now. Go home, tidy your bedroom, and make the greatest album of all time. I know you can do it!

I am still on part 2 of R Kelly’s Closet drama. I will be copping the rest when I am done in the studio. It is so great.

So Narstie and Solo from N Dubs are here in The Dairy with me and Matt F, making dope tracks for ATD 9, coming SOON! MIGHTY SICKNESS, serious. Bashy and Face are dropping by later. Bashy just the video for the Tsunami Relief song he’s on, and it is apparently heavy. Like D. And Narstie.

Some indie boys came to the window earlier, and peered in. Then they went away.

Which was weird.

Right now we’re mixing the new One Bullet< and it is hardcore, oh my brothers and my sisters. And last night ALSO was hardcore. In fact it was my favourite gig ever maybe.

So thank you all involved, specially Jeremy, Jeremy, Ben, Hell Is For Heroes, The Monkees The Sound Explosion, My Peoples, and, of course, Mary.

It is sunny today. But Exxon do run the world. And what a filthy rotting cloud is that!

So, first up, we’re playing a show TONIGHT, in Camden, which is in London. Sorry all my American and Canadian bredren who’ve been mailing demanding I play in your towns. One day soon, peoples.

The gig’s at The Underworld, which is right by the station, and tends to have loads of kids in Slipknot hoodies queuing up outside it. We’re on at 9:15. See you there.

So I was wondering recently why it was that the crazy freak nutbars who run shit have been, basically, taking the piss recently. Like, the movement towards the globalisation we see now has been happening for a fucking long time, right? Slowly slowly, catchey monkey. Hunnerds of years. Then, 97, or thereabouts, they sped the fuck up. Now you’ve got the instance where the US passed their so-called Patriot Act, reducing their constitution to ass paper, Patriot Act 2 is coming SOON, and over here, we got the Civil Contingencies Bill speeding through Parliament, giving Blair powers Hitler could but DREAM OF, just in time to suspend it next year or maybe the year after. Or Whatever.

Now this European Constitution, RFID Tags in your cash, the attempted justification of torture, etc etc etc.

Why the brazen speed?

These days I spend hours a day answering my email, which comes from my peoples all over the world. Eg:

“Dude! I can’t believe you emailed me back!

This is like getting a letter back from Toupak, or Snoop Dog! You are extremely popular in my school! Even the little middle schoolers love your music man! You are way more popular than Eminem or Dre or any1 else at my school. My friend grew his hair and beard out and dyed them just like yours. /. .\”

And:

“Dear Don

I am a fourteen year old girl from Ohio, i love reading your blog, it is an educaytion, i never cared about politics before, i only came for hip hop! My friends all read your site, and are all making songs now and we have a few questions. What can we do to help? And how do you get a good kick drum soud in fruity?”

And

“My name is Ryan Hobbs and I am a 17 year old male from the St. Louis region. I am a big fan of the website and appreciate you bringing forth information that I normally would not read about. I have just a few questions to ask you that I would appreciate being answered when ever you have the time. First I was wondering how you find such information about FEMA and other naughty things that governments are trying to pull. Second, I would love to know if you are ever going to be in the Midwest Area, and third I was interested in ways that I could become politically active. Thank you in advance and keep up the excellent work.”

Etc.

You see? I grew up in North Wales, and right now I reside in London. Yet I can discover information, and share it with peoples all over the world, young and old, INSTANTLY, and they can do the same. This is why They are shitting their pants right now, this is why they are speeding up their operations, and getting sloppy, allowing stupid ass mistakes to occur. They are evidently in panic. That is why, my peoples, we can win. Communicate. Is all. THEY HATE THAT.

WHUP!

I just got into System Of A Down. They are so awesome. Go on, email me telling me what a late douche I am.

Aside from that, back in the UK I have slept a fair bit, seen Keef and MY MAM, who came to my HOUSE, and gave me a PRESENT for my BUFDAY (see above/side) and had a couple of rehearsals with my friends for >this gig we are doing tomorrow. It’s at the dirty Underworld in Camden, and we are playing for The Captains Of Industry, who I admire. The line up is me, Son Of King Rebel on geetar, Jeremy The Blonde on keys and boy lala, and Mary Turner on girl lala. (Mary has been losing her voice, as a result of Mean People. And Poisons probably. I wish her a speedy recovery.) On Saturday we rehearsed in a shitty room, and made it sound lovely, and today we rehearsed in an amazing room, and din’t have to try too hard, so I felt it was OK to “play” bass on one of the songs. This should be a laugh.

Oh, Big Ben from Capatins just emailed me saying he has five pairs of tickets for the gig to give away. If you want, you are to email him “something interesting” at ben@captainsof.com. “A photo, a picture, a poem - anything. No viruses though. And please include your mobile number. Because its last minute we might not be able to reply to your mails personally.” he says. He added a “peace” at the end, cos that is a good way to end.

Wade cleaned our stairs! Bless him.

Oh, my email is super backed up, I know, I am sorry. I shall try and clean it tomorrow, between doing a song and some mixtape ish and obtaining some white legwear.

IN TODAY! My Yankee bredren - Snitch Or Go To Jail!! And students! Watch who you pass that joint at! Your new pals could be CIA spies! No shit! Arghhhhhhh!

See that “BST” thing? See that? British Summer Time.

I am no longer in America Land.

And.

It’s kind of grey here.

Firstly, I left my phone on the plane, so I had to bugger about at Heathrow for ages. Did I mention I went to the wrong airport in En Why last night too? I suck at life. I did finish the Shane MacGowan book though. Right at the end, he crystalised all my weird thinkings on religion, almost perfectly. I am beginning to feel a lot more at peace. Beginning. I have a long way to go on that stuff. I’ll write more about it a little later. It is a big thing. What I am lacking, in my rejection of the Skygod, is the Holy Ghost. I know it exists, I found it in ketamine once, and other drugs, and in rare (and entirely sober) moments of crazy empathy and understanding. We are conditioned to not see a lot of stuff. We HAVE gone backwards in our development. This Holy Spirit, Chi, whatver, thing, I believe it to be the thing we (most of we) cannot (but used to) understand that connects us all. Anyway.

So I was getting on the tube, and overheard the tube attendants having this crazy racist conversation about their fellow workers getting jobs because of their colour, and how unfair it is that people celebrate St Patricks day and all that bullshit.

I got off the tube and all of a sudden these huge gross ugly city dudes in nasty blue suits were bearing down on me, popeyeballed and mong-jawed, all like, “‘ELLO LUV”. I was like, “you fucking What?” Like totally taken aback, having forgotten about that sort of thing, and very nearly had a fight, but I was going up an escalator and they down. As I reached the top, I heard them turn their attentions to a super hot lady with a baby behind me, bawling, “oi, black TWAT”. I was stunned. She didn’t even seem to notice.

The weather’s a bit nicer now, and I have had good internettychattery things with people I like, and Wade is here and is making me a strawberry and ice cream smoothie and we are going to watch a movie called Rushmore.

It’s weird. It seemed I was always in En Why, and always had been. Now it seems I was never there. I dream-ed it all up with my silly brain. Goodbye AIM! Goodbye Spiky, Daffid, James. Goodbye Cherry! Goodbye all of my new friends I met! We never met did we? I DREAM-ED IT ALL!

So, here is my real life. It starts as soon as I post this. I am looking forward to it, kind of.

Nah. I am TOTALLY. WOO HOO! UK! Let us RUMBLE!

So, I made a new song out of Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time and Dead Prez’s Police State on my glorious firedamaged laptop, then got sucked into a load of noise and rap shit via Harriet’s blog, THANK SKYGOD FOR SUCH THINGS, as I get all caught up in my own bullshit and all that hardcore evil shit, and miss out on a load of dope musical happenings. And out there on the interweb there’s all this love for our amazing culture, distilled into words, almost daily. How fresh is that?

Ook. I AM HYPED UP FOR VICTORY AGAINST THE SWINE BECAUSE OF THE LOVE OF MY PEOPLES!

Hoo grah, brothers and sisters.

Stunners International Vol. 2 is on the way. I KNOW YOU CAN’T WAIT!

I’m just copping all this R Kelly Closet shit. R Kelly is so a genius, I can’t believe it.

So, my peoples keep educating me. Wales, get this, remix each other’s shit. Serious. A whale makes a song, another picks it up, riffs on that shit, fucks it up a bit, passes it on, and on, and on. Check it out. So dope! And they banned sampling in a bunch of states! HOW DARE YOU TRY TO STOP US COMMUNICATING! FUCK YOU!

See, that is why I love doing mixtapes. Fuck a sample clearance, if I wanna make a collage of Billy Bragg and NWA and give it to you, I can. As can you. Skygoddamn WORD.

So, here’s a pretty awesome piece of writing about my non-white people’s roles in comic books over the years, a subject I was noising about last week, when I saw they’d put out a new Black Panther comic. Now, that used to be some seriously offensive jungle mystic uncle tom bullshit, but apparently it is no longer so, so I’m a check it out. And at the same place, an excellent piece about Being in Egypt now.

And finally! My old mucker Justin Hawkins has not only covered Sparks’ classic This Town Aint Big Enough For The Both Of Us, but he’s been recognised as a proper darts player, and shall henceforth engage in professional pub-archery as The Hawk. All hail THE HAWK!