Yo, fellow noisemaker, weakchin and labelmate BECK! How are you, my blondey bredren? Good I hope. But listen - I just thought, you know, as a Scientologist, you’ve got a long road a ahead of you. There are many tests, and teachings, and stages you have to go through, before you get to the top, and that final answer. Hell, you might not MAKE the top. Then where will you be? Half the answer is no kind of Answer, right? So, I figured I’d help you out, let you skip all the crap - basically, they’ll fuck your brain, and dig up every “bad” thing they can find about you for future blackmailing purposes,, (you’ll know that bit by now) and reprogramme you, then right at the, end, they’ll hit you with this: OT VIII B. Hubbard’s final truth.

Hubbard thinks he’s Satan.

Serious! That’s it! Go check it, and be thankful you never wasted all that time, and go back to humping fine celebrity ass like Winona Ryder (no disrespect honey, yours is some Skygoshdarned fine celeb ass. Thassall.)

Now, we’ve seen this story before.

Crazy how weird cults set up by dudes bent on world domination turn into actual, popular, RELIGION, innit? How what seem at first inspection, basically, some good guides for living a decent life, end up corrupting, debasing, and eventually enslaving a whole bunch of people, whilst simultaneously advancing the goals of power-mad occultist nutbars.

FORSOOTH!

So, they’re totally setting Megaman up. Now, they’ve got in a translator, to make clear some of the Yardier lyrics from the first two So Solid records, to “prove” that Mega’s into slaying. Fucking jokes!

Saw Jimmy and Co. up at Interscope today. All agree that the songs are dope. People seem to like Clones, Oh, London, Bankers and AIDS best initially - although not everyone clocked the sarcastic nature of the AIDS chorus initially. Not everyone does. Did I tell you about that guy who was freaking out at me after the Cargo gig? That was one upset dude. He was all, “how could you SAY such things?” I was all, How could I NOT?

Danny and I were up on Mullholand Drive watching Hollywood (well Chatsworth) burn earlier, as another freak-eyed Bush crony was caught with his trotters in the collection plate. It was strangely beautiful. More so was San Fernando Valley, viewed from above. It loooks like some crazy alien city. I will dream of it, certainly.

This song is giant and sorrowful. My trosers don’t fit me no more. The Wacom Tablet is bringing me joy. I recorded Bravecaptain’s song, but still need to edit the fucker. It is well fucking fast.

And I am going to see Mr Iovine today and play him my new songs. Bet he likes AIDS best. Most people seem to.

Over and out, busy busy…

“All who are under the yoke of slavery should consider their masters worthy of full respect, so that God’s name and our teaching may not be slandered. Those who have believing masters are not to show less respect for them because they are brothers. Instead, they are to serve them even better, because those who benefit from their service are believers, and dear to them. These are the things you are to teach and urge on them.”
1 Timothy 6 (New International Version)

I saw two shooting stars last night
I wished on them but they were only satelites
It’s wrong to wish on space hardware
I wish I wish I wish you’d care
Billy Bragg

I went to my first LA bar tonight. It was very enjoyable. I met some 9 Black Alps and a nice Interscope man and some nice Radiohead managing Britishers and a funny girl from San Fran and a boy who fancied himself as Mark Whalberg. Steve The Jeweler is safer than fuck. And I had no idea the tabloid swine had been implicating Mick Jones in this “model does cocaine” lunacy. Mick Jones is as lovely as love itself. Head up dude, fuck those fools, they don’t come close. They can’t touch you. Don’t let them even think they can.

And I saw the new Curb! All hail! Formulaic, but HAIL ANYWAY!

Man, the Bloodhound Gang Album is amazing! It’s up there with the GLC and Damian Marley albums, in the New Records Of 2005 I Play Repeatedly list.

“If I wanted to be repeatedly shit on I’d go make Dutch porn.”

“We are Sir David Of Brent.”

Etc.

Long live Jimmy Pop.

She who I would call Baban thinks I’m going to hell. Me and the vast majority of the world. But she doesn’t mind. She won’t miss us, she said, because heaven is “perfect”.

But I’m not going to “hell”, honey! And I’m not going to “heaven”!

I’m just Going.

Hell is here. So is heaven. We have control over both. Now. Right now. The are reigns we can grab, if we stop thinking we are glued to the horse, and the only way we can get to the a nice place is by saying nice, but essentially insincere things about the horse’s dead great-great-great-great-great-etc Grandpa.

That’s a sucky metaphor, I know. But so what? We are, as the brilliant Ultrasound sang, All In The Same Gang. I can’t take “God loves us all equally” as an excuse for Pat Robertson and Henry Kissinger anymore. I will say, death loves us all equally - so the time to act upon the world of the living is DURING IT. If you think you’re gonna be sat at a big-ass banquet with John Lennon and Mother Teresa basking in perfectness for all eternity while the rest of us burn, and the WORLD IN ACTUALITY is raped and desecrated by liars claiming Christianity who wouldn’t look at another man’s foot, let alone wash it, you are no more Christian than George W Bush is.

Despite what you may have gleaned from some of my angrier posts, I do not “hate Christians” (I don’t hate anybody, actually) - Christ was a fucking DUDE - a true revolutionary who believed in love, and humanity, and the power, that some will call God, and others will call Chi, and others something else, that is in us all… but I resent those who have hijacked this thing of freedom and peace, and I resent those that will sit idly by and condemn me and my dead babies to hell, and pray for Henry Kissinger and Rupert Murdoch. And I resent those that believe that this all powerful God needs “Christians” to channel his Awesome Power through. The vast majority of humankind, they will never hear of Christ. But they will hear of women and men of similar stock, with similar love for humanity, and those women and men may or not be inspired to shake their chains as a result, and they are not going to “Hell”. The hell they will inhabit is one of our making. Yours and mine. Every day we sit idly by and think all will be sorted by the great Scorer at the moment of death’s embrace, is another day of Actual Hell for our brothers and our sisters.

I don’t know why I think of this now, but I do:

“I did not know and I could not see
Who was waiting there
Who was hunting me.”
Leonard Cohen

“We’re an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you’re studying that reality - judiciously, as you will - we’ll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that’s how things will sort out. We’re history’s actors… and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do.”
A senior Bush aide, speaking to New York Times Sunday Magazine, September 04

“US military scientists are working on weather systems as a potential weapon. The methods include the enhancing of storms and the diverting of vapor rivers in the Earth’s atmosphere to produce targeted droughts or floods.”
Dr. Rosalie Bertell in The Times, November 23rd, 2000

So, I went out tonight. Serious! Now, usually, I am in the studio, making noises. Last night was dope for that. Did the vocals for 1234567 with Danny, was ACE on STILTS. Shit sounds so funky. Anyway. Tonight we went for dinner with some jewelry making, movie producing, magazine writing, LA living, channel hopping motherfuckers. Was well fun. And all I am saying is - David Cronenberg plus Martin Amis = HAPPY ME. That is all.

Have I ever spoke about my love of Amis? Prolly. I have never read a bad book by that man. Sure, his working class characters can come off as caricatures sometimes. But so did Dickens’. I am not offended, not when the shit is so good. Dead Babies is still my favourite book. And London Fields… well.

Anyway. In relation to those quotes, I have been getting a lot of email on the subject of weather modification lately. A lot of you want to know if it is real.

It is.

Weather modification technology has existed for a long time. The British and US military got very excited about it in the fourties (”If we had that, we’d have won the war in six years!”), when New Zealand successfully created tsunamis by blowing up stuff underwater. “It’s a bit like sliding backwards and forwards in a bath - the waves grow higher,” said Dr Willem de Lange, of the Department of Earth Sciences, in ‘99.

More recently, in his autobiography, Through the Eyes of the Enemy, Lt Col Stanislav Lunev - the highest ranking defector from Soviet military intelligence - spoke of the seismic weapons being developed and tested by the USSR in the ’80s. And Akif Gasanov, a former KGB intelligence officer, became aware of this business 20 years ago, in 1985 (weird how ‘85 is 20 years ago huh, fellow Smiths fans?).

“I became aware of this subject quite by accident,” said he. “I was working in the Second Department (counterintelligence) in the linear branch of Western espionage… The information I received seemed fantastic. Certain scientists at the Academy of Sciences were working on problems associated with earthquakes. There was a certain Ikram Kerimov and a group of his associates, the most notable of whom was Dzhafar Dzhafarov, son of Khady Dzhafarov, the well-known [Azerbaijani Petrochemical Institute] professor.

Ikram Kerimov asserted that they could control and initiate earthquakes. Moreover, he said they had theoretical justification for their assertions and were attempting to obtain minimal financing in the academic sphere. In their opinion, there were grounds to believe that a number of earthquakes that had occurred recently may well have been initiated through a remote control device or accidentally triggered directional influence on the Earth’s core.

We collected materials that might prove factually relevant, then drew up and submitted our report to the center…. It would usually take a month or more to process information. On this occasion, however, we received a conclusion very quickly. The assessment was fairly high for internal USSR information. It was treated as intelligence information. There was an immediate request to prepare the most extensive possible analytical reference package on the material and send it to the VPK (military-industrial complex). As a result of VPK study, a very high assessment was given. Scientists were then brought to Moscow to elaborate the subject matter. According to main information, an outstanding environment was created for them. They were afforded almost unlimited financing and the ability to conduct experiments.

In the late 1980s, a series of earthquakes took place encompassing a vast territory — from India to Central Asia. Accusations of the use of tectonic weapons and directed towards the Soviet Union appeared in the Western press at that time. Our scientists who had participated in the development of tectonic weapons declined to give a response to all questions dealing with the nature of these earthquakes.”

Here in the US, HAARP has been publicly doing it for a long time. The bill making it legal was a recent congress boredom. in 1996, an Air Force research paper entitled Weather As a Force Multiplier, called for an examination of “the concepts, capabilities, and technologies the United States will need to remain the dominant air and space force in the future”

Forsooth:

“US aerospace forces can “own the weather” by capitalizing on emerging technologies and focusing development of those technologies to war-fighting applications. Such a capability offers the war fighter tools to shape the battlespace in ways never before possible. It provides opportunities to impact operations across the full spectrum of conflict and is pertinent to all possible futures. The purpose of this paper is to outline a strategy for the use of a future weather-modification system to achieve military objectives rather than to provide a detailed technical road map.

A high-risk, high-reward endeavor, weather-modification offers a dilemma not unlike the splitting of the atom. While some segments of society will always be reluctant to examine controversial issues such as weather-modification, the tremendous military capabilities that could result from this field are ignored at our own peril. From enhancing friendly operations or disrupting those of the enemy via small-scale tailoring of natural weather patterns to complete dominance of global communications and counterspace control, weather-modification offers the war fighter a wide-range of possible options to defeat or coerce an adversary.”

I love that “some segments of society” bit.

Anyway. Those Texaco guys need worry no more. Reports are coming in of the oil lords already cutting refinery capacity in anticipation of the storm. If this turns bad we’re looking at $5.00 or more per gallon of gasoline, rationing, lines and runs on fuel, natural gas & fuel oil price gouging. Not to mention the horrifying loss of human life when Rita rips through. I truly hope nothing comes of this, and it passes on by. It just feels as if we’re pins awaiting recurrent bowling balls.. Yes.

So, those SAS guys that the British busted out with tanks? There’s an arrest warrant out for them. Notice the BBC’s reticence to mention they were dressed as Arabs. In fucking WIGS.

But anyway. There are a few reasons I might look forward to returning to England. They are few. And they involve people. Persons. Basically. Just a few. It is easy, when ensconced in sound, and activity, to forget such things. I always did that - surrounded myself in activity, with a conclusion somewhere in the future. And it always kept my mind off the rottenness I was in. And now, I am not in rottenness - I am temporarily (i hope) skint, but that is not what it was. Back in the day, I had to do terrible things to pay £35 rent. Now, the rent is past due, and I go, “nih”. I don’t debase myself and others to meet that end, because I no longer have to. Maybe I will again. Maybe. I hope not. But. I don’t know that. Still.

Still.

They are arresting people in London, on the tube, for having laptops, under the guise of anti-terrorist activities. Then they search their homes. Then they keep their laptops.

They kept my laptop, I’d be fucked. I use that thing a damn sight more than I use my penis. And they’d find plenty in it, in line with the current UK ideas of what terrorism construes. I have no bomb making kits. But I have plenty of writings concerning a mistrust of that government. And that is enough, now.

US TV is full of Nazi documentaries. I see them - Danny Saber, a good Jew is obsessed - and I see us, and I laugh, a cold, dead, dry laugh.

A question - when you saw The Graduate, did you see him run into the church, or crash in with a hang glider?

It is an important question. I’ll tell you why another day.

Oh, one more thing - expect an earthquake in San Francisco anytime soon. Aside from the new things I hear, Jeb Bush has been hinting at it for ages.

So it goes, eh?

So, I’m back in La La, holed up in Danny Saber’s crib with him and his lovely wife Helen and their uber-randy dog Wolfie, who licks my face and has sex with stuffed hedgehogs and shit. We’re working on 12345767, my super funky Organised Religion song, which is getting the P FONK treatment. I finished Genocide, my self-produced/engineered/writ/mixed/played ode to Mass Death, and that is a pretty horrible thing, and I am amid Bravecaptain’s Jerusalem and the Clones animation, which has to be finished next week, eek, stress, terror etc.

So, I was reading news the other day, and I came across that thing about the British Military storming that prison in Basra and breaking out two SAS dudes. Now, that seemed pretty weird right away - how do you claim to have handed over “sovereignty”, then bust soldiers out of jail with TANKS?

Well, it turns out, the dudes in question were arrested for firing on Iraqi police, while - get this - dressed as Arabs, car full of explosives. Wigs and everything, like in Team America. Only, not doing “durka durka whattagwan”, but going, “durkadurka we are insurgents have some BOOM BOOM and let there be civil war, asshole!”

Now, I wrote previously that all this anarchy is actually GOOD for the occupying forces, that what appears to have been a war with no post-invasion plan was actually no such thing, for a number of reasons. The oil-related destabilisation of China. The fractioning of the occupied masses. Like: so that they fight among themselves, rather than kicking out the British and American Imperialist looterswine. Etc.

Anyway, as ever, Jeff Wells and his peoples have put it better than I ever could. So check it out. And think about 777 in relation. You think the British would never engage in such nastiness? That they haven’t been caught doing it countless times? That they won’t again?

This is a war. Always has been. But it’s us, the people, the subjects, they’re at war with. And we, goons that they made us, are at war with ourselves, and each other.

Once you cop that, shit becomes a lot easier.

RIP King Rebel. OG Don. Chip-master. Scourge of the sleepers. Champion Of Fun. The legacy lives on.

Well, I have been very busy, thank you, and somehow that has lead to this being the 20th of September, the day of my eviction. Well, not eviction. But my time in this apartment I have come to love so is over, finish-ed, done. No longer will I awake to the sight of men in overalls hitting things with hammers outside my window. No longer will I gaze seven stories down at the Strand bookstore, no longer will I gaze at the window of the comic shop on my way back from the shop, paper bag full of vegetable juice and pretzels and water under my arm. No more buying records off of rappers in the street, no more talking with the doormen, who I am very fond of now, no more popping outside to listen to a rally and get glared at by coppers.

No more nude pincer sit uppy things to Damian Marley with the aircon on full blast. No more Daily Show, no more screaming at the dream-stealing white liar on BET in the whee hours. No more sitting up alone till 7am writing songs and balking at websites. No more rapping in the shower, water drilling a happy hole through my skull. No more waking up lying sideways across this goliath bed, twisted up in a river cotton. No more piles of fresh towels. No more Leonard Cohen waking the neighbours. No more 12th and Broadway. That’s that.

It’s La La land again, for me, where I shall be staying with mister Danny Saber and making more noises. My session with James finished at 7am on Sunday morning. It came out pretty much perfect. Jeff was still drunk, and the steak we ate in that posher place with Taj and all the funny lady trainers, (one of whom told me she was an uptown girl! Woh-oh-oh-woh-oh-oh-ow! Another record related childhood thing sorted!) had done strange things to my brain. Plus I saw Madison play earlier and it was kind of awesome - and terrifying and deeply unsettling, and I’d spent four hours in the afternoon running around blazing Manhattan trying in vain to purchase a 16 volt adapter in an orange boiler suit, so I felt weird and woke up and got a tattoo. And Amy made my hair white.

I should be out with Spiky tonight, but I am packing and editing vocals. I’ve hardly been out at all the whole time I’ve been here, which is a marked improvement on my last visit, which found me emerging from dank holes in the Lower East side blinking at the sunlight too often for anybody’s good. Anyway. I will be back in a few weeks, to work with Emile, and go to the fair on Coney Island.

So, Jeff rang me earlier, saying they’d had a bunch of people from a charity on TV saying the National Guard were stopping them getting supplies to people in Mississippi. The weird thing was though, was the Scientologists were already in there, FEMA approved, giving out Massages.

I think those people are still banned from France you know.

Still there’s a lot of them in LA LA land.

Sweeet.

So, this guy is the guy who’s up on Black Entertainment Television every night from 1 am onwards, demanding my money for “Jesus”. He says that New Orleans was sinful, and if we give him money (”a thousand bucks for Jesus! That’s nothing! And sister, brother, call now and get this free prayer hankercheif, blessed by me!”), that will sort out our sin issues, and we won’t get no damnationing and shit. Goon that I am, I sat there watching this dude for like an hour one night, getting frustarted and emotional, when I should have been answering email, or drawing, and I even phoned the number on the screen to ask his name, cos he wouldn’t say. The lady on the phone said God called him, and that he was a special, honest man, and we had a bit of a dialogue, and she cried and shit.

I didn’t cry. Boys don’t cry. Only at the movies.

I was watching Dr Strangelove last night, marvelling at the genius of Peter Sellers, and I was reminded of a T Shirt design I did recently, that Cafe Press strangely blocked. Anyway, they unblocked it now, so you can buy it. It is number one of a to be continued Thanks For All The AIDS series, dedicated to our dear Killers In High Places, saying their prayers out loud.

Which reminds me. I got an email off a female person called Emma yesterday, that said:

Dear Akira The Don

I know you don’t believe in my “Skygod”, but He believes in you, and so do I. I am praying for you, and for all of us. I hope you don’t mind.

I found that rather touching.

Please continue your prayers, folks. But, when you’re done, email your MP, or write to your congressman, or similar, voicing your feelings on these matters of which we speak. I have no idea whether there is a Spooky Man in the clouds who answers our calls, but I do know that Killers In High places are but mortal fools, and if there is a He, He is certainly not listening to Them. However, They will have to listen to us, if we are loud.

Nos da.

PS - if anyone knows how to put a little roof on that “o” in the middle of the “n” and the “s”, do tell - it needs one.

PPS - I got my laptop back from the fixers today, so I can record my B-Side and Bravecaptain’s song this weekend, hopefully. My B-Side is called Genocide Is Coming To America, and it is quite long and sad and the rapping doesn’t stop ever. Bravecaptain’s is called Jerusalem, and my bits have nothing at all to do with Chris de Burgh’s incredible, but lyrically misguided Crusader. At all at all.

This is 30-year-old Mr. Wu Chunlong from China. He was detained by Chinese police several times over the past 5 years in repeated attempts to force him to renounce his Falun Gong practice. In November 2003, he was sent to the Jiamusi City Labor Camp for a three-year sentence, where he was tortured and injected with unknown drugs in an effort to “break” him. He became incontinent and physically emaciated. He died on August 20, 2005.

Remember the bit in 1884, where they torture Winston until he believes that 2 plus 2 equals five?

Well, that’s what they’re trying out in Gitmo. And that is what they have been doing for a long time in China, against practitioners of Falun Gong, a useful and harmless sort of spirituality, that The Party deems evil, as it is a thing of peace, practiced by 100 million Chinese.

I found out about this yesterday, on third avenue, walking from 53rd street to 27th. It was a pretty crazy walk. For three blocks Police Cars framed the road, two mean-eyed crazies toting machine guns and pistols for each car. Then came the sound of drums, and yellow-clad Chinese-Americans marching, flanked by coppers, in support of their oppressed peoples back home. Then I saw sad-faced Latino in a limp banana costume handing out flyers. Then came a block full of piles of cans and bottles, which brown skinned men and women were packing into bags, and carrying off, two or three at a time, to exchange for pennies.

Then came mainly white skinned opulence, and my studio. In it, are wires and tiny dogs (well, dog) and raw meat. We shouted “WANKERS!” en masse at the mocrophone. It was fun.

You’d think that two dead bodies plus another two dead bodies would make four dead bodies. And you’d be right. But Resident Douche and his crazy Cheney gang are intent on convincing us otherwise. That’s why they’ve hired Kenyon International to set up a mobile morgue for handling bodies in Baton Rouge, Louisiana following Hurricane Katrina. Kenyon is a part of Service Corporation International (SCI), a massive Texas company run by an old family friend of the Bushes, who’ve been caught on many occasions digging up graves, dumping bodies in woods, and othersuch acts of gross craziness. They have been hired by Resident Douche to hide the bodies. Read all about it! Read all about it!

Oh, and Crazy Cheney’s trigger finger is getting hella itchy. Don’t go to sleep.

“I was always a singer and maybe no more then that. Sometimes it’s not enough to know the meaning of things, sometimes we have to know what things don’t mean as well. Like what does it mean to not know what the person you love is capable of? Things fall apart, especially all the neat order of rules and laws. The way we look at the world is the way we really are. See it from a fair garden and everything looks cheerful. Climb to a higher plateau and you’ll see plunder and murder. Truth and beauty are in the eye of the beholder. I stopped trying to figure everything out a long time ago.”
Jack Fate, played and written by Bob Dylan, from 2003’s Masked And Anonymous

See, nobody should have to believe that 2 plus 2 equals anything other than what is equals, which is four, Douche. Brother Mark led me to this website, where you can see pictures of signs saying 2 + 2 = 4. To counteract all the ones that say otherwise. Make your own sign! It’s easy and fun! Counteract the craziness! Don’t let them stick your head in a cage full of rats! Rats are hungry and they will eat out your eyes!

Oh, I just got an email suggesting I type “failure” into Google. Why don’t you all try doing the same? I have a funny feeling I know what’s going to happen…

“The real looting in this country takes place in the transfer of the wealth from the poor to the rich, I’m sorry that you don’t like class and the truth, my friend, but you’re stuck with it! Class is class, and the poor have been systematically looted in this country. The rich have been made richer under this criminal fascist president and his government.”
George Carlin on Real Time With Bill Maher this week

“In keeping with Channel 40’s policy of always bringing you the latest in gore and guts in living color, you’re about to see another first - an attempted suicide.”
Chris Hubbock, TV newsperson, 1970. She then pulled out a gun and fatally shot herself in the head.

I have been taking much comfort in Andrew WK, of late. I have also been being accused of being a Christian hater, in three emails and sort of in a MSN conversation. Heed:

“Yeah, I believe in God. A higher being, definitely. But the point is, God is in me, and he’s in you… He’s saying, you go! God is unconditional! Love! Unconditionally OK, heh! But not God in the traditional sense. Hell does not exist. Here, let me ask you something, see if you believe this… Where I come from, many people believe that if a person kills themselves they go straight to hell. That upsets me! Of course they don’t go to hell. Those poor, sad, lonely people. They die, and someone takes their hand and says, ‘Hey, it’s OK, we’re sorry… come with us, it’s going to be OK’. Those fucking people… God’s looking at them, shaking his head, going ‘Oh man…’ But the truth will out in the end.”

That was Andrew WK, talking to me four years ago. And he was, of course, right. There is no hell, there is no Wrathful Skygod sending floods to drown “the wicked” (if that were so then that gross Square Mile would have been submerged years ago). But there is Something, and it is in all of us, and it is that that shines forth from eyes that have not died.

Speaking of which, check that boy up there’s eyeholes! What do you see in there? That’s John Roberts, the lawyer who assured that Baby Bush would allowed to steal Florida, and will soon be sending coathangers back up our sisters. Read up on this dude. I was watching him SAYING NOTHING (he is a lawyer after all) about his intentions on telly earlier, and it looked like he had drawn-on golfballs lodged in his eyesockets. If I were scared of fools and greedheads, I’d be not going to sleep, like, EVER, for fear of dying of a heart attack in a nightmare about this loon.

This is one of those so-called Christians that irk me so. One of those so-called Christans that Seem never to have heard of CHRIST. Christ! What heteroclite lunacy is this?

Ho ho, and ho hum. Some of you might consider this advert for the new Bloodhound Gang album to be further proof of the ever-spiralling fall of this so-called civilisation. Some might just find it funny. Personally, I am a big fan of The Bloodhound Gang, who I consider to be the least pretentious, and the least fraudulent rock band in a world full of bullshitting, lying, greedhead rock bands. “We are the moustaches The Beatles grew when they dropped acid,” as Jimmy Pop has it.

So, this is reality.

And this is reality.

And this is reality.

And THIS is reality. As the bodies are hidden from view in New Orleans, so too are those in Iraq.

Poor Baby Bush. He can’t move for goshdarned bodies. Nor that Blair. They must have special implants that divert the stench back out of their noses before it hits their gag reflex. That or… they’re DEAD!

Yes, they’re dead, folks. They are but ZOMBIES! And remember, zombies are slow and stupid and well easy to kill. Come on, you can’t let a zombie kill you! They’re so SLOW! You can cut their flesh like BUTTER!

I leave the last words to Andrew:

“What we’re doing here, all of us, we’re discovering new frontiers… We have this responsibility to all those that can’t. I’m really fired about these frontiers, this new horizon. We’re working hard. Harder and harder. It is NOT acceptable to be down, ever, not when we are healthy and can do this. As long as I have food and a roof over my head I can never be down. Anything else, ANYTHING is just the icing on the cake. What I’m trying to do… what I’m doing, is being unconditionally OK. To be unconditionally OK is the real beauty. If you’re unconditionally OK, you can never be hurt!

“You know, when I was in England, I read this terrible, terrible story, I’m sure you did too. There was this beautiful six year old girl, whose stepmother abused her and pretty much beat her to death and her father didn’t do anything. I read that story, and all of a sudden everything became very clear, and every single thing that I have done since has been for her. But I’m motivated by the expenditure of energy, true beauty, the human ability to do so much good and so much bad… It moves me that I have all these advantages, hate moves me, jealousy moves me, love moves me… Yeah, I’ve been in love, heh heh. A few times, but that’s what I’m on man, not making things conditional, doing what you want… jealousy, boundaries, that’s not how it should be. I have trust, and I have faith.”

“It’s a popularity contest
You’ve just Gotta put it in context”
Chilly Gonzales, AKA FuckEye, The One Eyed Jew

Phil told me Trash had a new website, so I had a look. Trash is this club in London I used to go to every Monday. It was like school. For a year or so, me and my peoples went every week, and had a ball, like children. It seems an awful long time ago now.

Anyway. In the video section, they’ve got this performance by Chilly Gonzales and Feist. It’s pretty amazing. I remember it, even though we were pretty fucked up that night. It was Gonzo. Gonzo was very important to me.

I first heard the magic of Chilly Gonzo round my boy Erol, who run’s Trash’s house one night, after some party or other. He’d been running around with an ice bucket on his head, I’d been falling down stairs with crates of stolen booze, and we’d been hassling Norman Cook for drugs. I was so young then! I had all these different priorities.

But that night, lying on Erol’s sofa, listening to The Entertainist on repeat, was when I knew for the first time I could make music, properly. I don’t really know what the difference was between that and all the other records I ever heard. But that one said, loudly: You go and make songs, lad. Shit will be fine.

And, so, it was.

So it goes.

So thank you Erol Alkan, and thank you Chilly Gonzales - from the very bottom of my warm pink heartmuscle. Without you, I am nothing. As with all of you. I don’t think I can have a thank you list on my album, because I can’t remember the name of the girl who kept me warm that night at the end of the last century, when I might have fallen under some wheels, and who played me that Lamb song, and I can’t remeber the name of the boy who gave me that beating in ‘96 and played me the first Metallica album.

You know what I mean? I am the sum of all these parts, and to try and suss which were more important is to miss the point of this whole thing, this us, this humanity, because it’s all as important. Every drop of rain…

Here’s a song by Gonzales that’s online for you to listen to. And here’s another. Maybe you’ll like it, and it will speak to you like it did me. Maybe you already do, and it already did. Maybe it was Bob Dylan for you, or Cohen, or Shakira, or any one of those wonderful people that held up a mirror to the world so the light didn’t burn our retinas, like the telly, but just so we could see. I wonder if Charles Clarke ever heard Leonard Cohen. Could he be so willing to sell us all into bondage if that were the case?

Well, some people are cheap, I guess. Some are bought more easily than battery-farmed eggs. If you have not heard much about Operation Mockingbird, maybe now is the time to learn.

The human beings/lab rats in Gitmo are on hunger strike.

La Rouche gave a webcast, which I urge you all to watch, breaking down where we’re at, how we got her, and how we get out.

On the TV behind me, MSNBC is questioning the sanity of the President and the urging people to, “in the words of Bruce Springsteen, ‘rise up’”.

The same network reported on the story of the six year old boy who did what that Resident would not, and led his little friends to safety.

Cheney finally showed up in New Orleans, and got told to go fuck himself.

A white liar on BET is telling us if we send him money, the Skygod will heal our back pain.

(The Red Cross, by the way, takes a 40% administration fee from all donated monies. You may also remember they ploughed 70% of the money donated in the wake of 9/11 to The War On Terror (TWOT). I would suggest you give your money to local charities, even though FEMA continues to deny aid releif to those not dead yet.)

This guy really hates horses.

Madison was telling me about a friend of hers, a reporter and no stranger to war zones, who was in New Orleans over this past fortnight, and described what as he saw as the most vile, and shocking scenes he had witnessed anywhere. “Dehydrated people were literally exploding in the streets,” he said. Popping like balloons.

And still they are. As I write, still no water, and no ice, have been allowed to the people of New Orleans.

Me, I went to the gym, enjoyed a roof party in the middle of Broadway, got in trouble at Soho House for questioning the Nazi attitudes of a member of staff, danced to rap music, and wrote a song called Genocide Is Coming To The USA.

Tomorrow James and I begin our final week. The vocals, and the music are all pretty much done. So Thursday will see the completion of another three songs, Bankers, Thanks For All The AIDS, and Dear Baby, a song once known as Cut You In The Face that now has new words and synths.

My time in New York is once again drawing to a close. Soon I will leave my dear apartment on 12th and Broadway, and fly back to La la land. I hope this week doesn’t go too quickly. I try to live in the moment, for my memory is poor. Soon all of this will be gone.

PS - 8 Tips On How To Avoid Dealing With The Really Really Really Really Really Really Really Really Obvious Racial Dimensions of the New Orleans Tragedy, As Taught To Me By Television And The Web Over The Last Week

And

George Bush Does NOT Care About Black People

“I take no pleasure in being Right in my dark predictions about the fate of our military intervention in the heart of the Muslim world. It is immensely depressing to me. Nobody likes to be betting against the Home team.”
Hunter S Thompson, 2004

Dear Summer

The crime of genocide is defined in international law in the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of Genocide.

Article II: In the present Convention, genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:

(a) Killing members of the group;
(b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
(c) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;
(e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.

Article III: The following acts shall be punishable:

(a) Genocide;
(b) Conspiracy to commit genocide;
(c) Direct and public incitement to commit genocide;
(d) Attempt to commit genocide;
(e) Complicity in genocide.

So let us be of no doubt, as FEMA continues to deny aid to those in New Orleans, that we are witnessing genocide, in America.

But, as we have said, this is but a tiny mirror, being held up to the majority of the human-inhabbited world.

We are all of us complicit in this genocide, carried out day upon day, upon our brothers and our sisters, pretty much everywhere I can think of.

Go see The Constant Gardener, it is an important and deeply moving piece of cinema. (I haven’t read the book. I am sure it is better. But that is fine.)

“Who does vote for these dishonest shitheads? They are the racists and hate mongers among us — they are the Ku Klux Klan. I piss down the throats of these Nazis.”
Hunter S Thompson, 2004

We are in deep shit. But we have spent many a century practicing wading. So maybe we will be fine. Still, Leonard Cohen’s monk friends reckon one has to rid oneself of desire and hope in order to be free. And I am full of these things.

Dear Ms Reno,

John P Cleary BScMAMBA, writing to Janet Reno

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang

Bye.

Big up Celine Dion.

And Jay-Smooth breaks down the Kanye reaction.

Hey - Bashy’s coming over here today to film the Clones video. We’re gonna do green screen. I think green screen is just like blue screen. But don’t quote me on that.

PS - Goliath means, like, big, not a nasty bully. You funny mob.

“A Thousand Kisses Deep is that fundamental intuitive understanding, usually wordless, which is beyond opinion and belief. It is the unspoken conviction that things are unfolding according to a pattern that the intellect or the emotions cannot discern. This conviction is accompanied by a loosening of the unconditional affirmation that an individual entity exists and that it determines its own fate”.
Leonard Cohen, October 2nd 2001

Kat
New Hampshire USA.

If any of you have friends, family members, or colleagues, that think as does Kat’s boss, please show them this. I beg of you. I do not believe that anyone who has not been rendered dead by those that seek to enslave us can see this and hold those opinions, let alone their tears.

Later, Kat sent me the following story, removed from the Kansascity.com website. (Kansas is home to the school-teaching of “Intelligent Design”, tragically enough)

A lot of stories are being “removed” at the moment.

I cannot imagine why. It seems almost as odd as FEMA cutting people’s emergency communications lines (see yesterday’s post).

Forsooth:

French Quarter Holdouts Create ‘Tribes’
By ALLEN G. BREED, Associated Press Writer

“I’m heart-broken to leave the city that I love,” Rowland said as he sat in the air-conditioned splendor of the bus. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

The article was saved by Kat’s people on “an Ishmael posting forum”.

“Have you ever read Daniel Quinn’s “Ishmael”?” asked Kat.

I have not.

Perhaps I shall.

Today James and I recorded the vocals for Bankers, my song about Those. It will be but a drop of blood in a piss-spoiled ocean. I am just one person in the millions. And so are you. Together we are goliath.

“As I understand it, into the heart of every Christian, Christ comes, and Christ goes. When, by his Grace, the landscape of the heart becomes vast and deep and limitless, then Christ makes His abode in that graceful heart, and His Will prevails. The experience is recognized as Peace. In the absence of this experience much activity arises, divisions of ever sort. Outside of the organizational enterprise, which some applaud and some mistrust, stands the figure of Jesus, nailed to a human predicament, summoning the heart to comprehend its own suffering by dissolving itself in a radical confession of hospitality.”
Leonard Cohen, October 2nd, 2001

Nothing left to do
when you know that you’ve been taken.
Nothing left to do
when you’re begging for a crumb
Nothing left to do
when you’ve got to go on waiting
waiting for the miracle to come.
Leonard Cohen, Waiting For The Miracle

If you were a heroin addict, you’d be smashing shit within a day of a New Orleans.

If you were a boozer, maybe a little longer.

If you were just anybody, two or three days would do it.

If you were a baby, or an old person in need of medicine, you’d just die quietly, in the piss and the shit, like a good citizen.

I hear Condoleeza Rice went to see Spamalot the other day, while our people rotted. She didn’t get to see it, though. She was booed out of the place.

So it goes.

I fell asleep this morning to the sound of genocide, coming out of the computer, and the television.

And I awoke today to the sound of protest, coming through my window.

I heard When The Saints Go Marching In, and repeated chant: “Drive out the Bush machine. New Orleans can’t wait. The world can’t wait.”

Out my window, marching down Broadway, were a hundred or so people. I put on a hat and some trousers and went outside. They waved banners, sang, and shouted as they marched along the road, into the oncoming traffic, to Union Square. I was overcome, and wept, quietly.

I talked to some people, and helped hand out flyers. There is to be a march on November 2nd. Soon sirens waliled and blooped, and the Square was surrounded almost entirely by a wall of police. Their mood was not as ugly as I have seen, in the main, although something happened behind a tree which I did not see, and two ambulances soon came.

Jokingly, a few days ago, I quipped that they’d be getting in Haliburton for the New Orleans “clean up.”

Guess what?

They are.

I got an email from someone calling themself “trueplaya”, that read

“Akira… would you shut the fuck up about depressing shit and write about Jimmy Ivine [sic] or something?

Oh, the hilarity.

You cannot stand what I’ve become.
You much prefer the gentleman I was before.
I was so easy to defeat.
I didn’t even know there was a war.”
Leonard Cohen, There Is A War

One of the lucky ones, who only lost the contents of their home to the floods, noted last night - at the end of a missive adding to The Red Cross’ report that the National Guard are refusing to let supplies into in New Orleans:

“…part of the reason our house flooded is they dynamited part of the levee after the first section broke - they did this to prevent Uptown (the rich part of town) from being flooded. Apparently they used too much dynamite, thus flooding part of the Bywater. So now I know who is responsible for flooding my house - not Katrina, but our government .”

The picture, if you’re wondering, I did earlier, and it made me smile, and it made me a bit sick. It’s from the animated Clones video, marching on. We started filming the live action video yesterday. I was running round the Bronx in a huge orange jumpsuit. So it goes.

I saw you this morning.
You were moving so fast.
Can’t seem to loosen my grip
On the past.
And I miss you so much.
There’s no one in sight.
And we’re still making love
In my secret life.

I bite my lip.
I buy what I’m told:
From the latest hit,
To the wisdom of old.
But I’m always alone.
And my heart is like ice.
And it’s crowded and cold
In my secret life.

“If the CIA slips me something and next week you don’t see me, you’ll all know what happened”
- New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin

Big up Kanye.

So big up Kanye. You were the first person I have seen express actual emotion over the genocide currently being executed here in the United States Of America. None of this dead eyed, fake ass, truth-avoiding bullshit.

Watch the thing. Look at his eyes! It is All about the eyes. There lies truth. His eyes were red, wet, like mine, he was shaking, he was stuttering, and he was not about to CloneRead no Skygoddamned autocue.

He hasn’t been coopeted. He has reached the higher echelons of the “alternative elite” they turned music into, and he has kept his humanity. He spoke the truth, that everybody else in his position was either too scared too, or too dead to. The truth.

They are out there shooting at our people. Our hungry ass, terrified, desperate, abandoned people. And the media is making out like they some Skygoddamned savages, who deserve all they get.

And George Bush does not give a fuck about black people.

Now I’m hearing these arguments, “he did it to sell records”, “its a poor thing, not a race thing.” Yadda yadda.

1: Dixie Chicks.

2: The vast majority of those left to rot in piss and shit have been black.

Now, it is a poor people thing. This NeoCon freakshow has deliberately engineered a huge slave class, by driving illegal immigrants over the border to work for peanut shells, by destroying industry, by raping welfare, outsourcing, downsizing, privatising. They don’t care if your Mexican, African, European - they will pimp your ass until it breaks and it bleeds.

But, since Abe freed those black slaves to wander the streets homeless, they have been Poor. And before that they was Slaves.

Racism never went anywhere. It just had to change its face a little. The end result is the same.

Even Fox can’t lie All day. Watch this! Watch it!

If we don’t all take whatever opportunity we have to speak the truth, and say what we actually fucking feel, not what we think is appropriate, about this genocide, we are SLAVES. Our fate is a big dome full of piss and shit and death. And I ain’t fucking kidding. If those goons see they can get away with this, do not doubt it will happen again, and soon.

From the website of the American Red Cross, their disaster FAQ:

Why is the Red Cross not in New Orleans?

The state Homeland Security Department had requested–and continues to request–that the American Red Cross not come back into New Orleans following the hurricane. Our presence would keep people from evacuating and encourage others to come into the city.

http://www.wbai.org

“I’m not a Christian but I respect Jesus for saying that no one is His true follower who does not do right by ‘the least of these’.”
Cassandra, writing on Jeff Wells’ blog

In a dramatic turnabout, the United States is now on the receiving end of help from around the world as some two dozen countries offer post-hurricane assistance… However, in Moscow, a Russian official said the U.S. Federal Emergency Management Agency had rejected a Russian offer to dispatch rescue teams and other aid. Offers have been received from Russia, Japan, Canada, France, Honduras, Germany, Venezuela, Jamaica, Australia, the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Greece, Hungary, Colombia, the Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Mexico, China, South Korea, Israel, the United Arab Emirates, NATO and the Organization of American States, the spokesman said… Still, Bush told ABC-TV: “I’m not expecting much from foreign nations because we hadn’t asked for it. I do expect a lot of sympathy and perhaps some will send cash dollars. But this country’s going to rise up and take care of it.”

“You know,” he said, “we would love help, but we’re going to take care of our own business as well, and there’s no doubt in my mind we’ll succeed. And there’s no doubt in my mind, as I sit here talking to you, that New Orleans is going to rise up again as a great city.”
MSNBC

As tens of thousands of our people rotted in that Skygoddamned dome, as bombs tore across the riverfront, as the National Guard finally ran in, guns blazing, as that poor mayor called out Bush, as the aforementioned Resident told our brothers and sisters to “hang in there”…

As the truth of this administration’s grotesque, inhuman contempt for our people was made clear for all to see, as genocide made America its home:

I was having a wonderful time in New York City.

New York doesn’t have long, by the way. Have a look into how this city is powered. And how thin a thread that power hangs upon. And consider who’s famous former “President” father made the decision not to fix it, and instead, spent the money on slaughtering Iraqis, way back at the dawn of the nineties. New York is one explosion away from becoming New New Orleans.

These are ugly thoughts, on so beautiful a day, but that is what we must all accept, and deal with. This is happening, and will continue to happen. This administration must be impeached. The Federal Reserve must be abolished. We need to listen to our scientists and our historians and our thinkers, not these freakish, loud, bullies. We need drastic change, otherwise it is all over for most of us. I want to live, and I want to spend my life with you, all, because I love you, and there are monsters in suits and ties who think of us as nothing but cattle, or less than cattle, as ants, as bugs, as parasites. They will let us burn in the fire.

This does not have to happen. We have more power than we know. I am filled with sadness in here with this computer, then I step outside onto Broadway and am filled with wonder, as I walk amongst my fellow man. It is the eyes. Our eyes meet, and we smile, we nod, we acknowledge our shared humanity with a few words. The proof, and the truth, of our vast power is plain to see in our eyes.

There is nothing in the eyes of those that have denied our people the help they need, and as people, have a right to. Bush, Cheney, Blair, Rice, Robertson, O’Reilley, the dead masks of the evil that seeks to throw us into bondage. They are dead, they are not us. We love. This is what we do. We have not gotten this far with war, and hate, and lies. We got here with us, and with love. It is this that will get us out. I believe that. I don’t believe we are doomed, for a second now, because I step into the street and eyes of people whose stories I will never know meet mine, and it is a power so vast I am awed, I am undone, and I am more sure now than ever that there IS “a crack in everything”, and the light will come.

Today I exercised hard at ten am, and was sick in the road because of it. Now my muscles hurt but I feel fantastic. I laid down the vocals for Thanks For All The AIDS this afternoon, bought attire for tomorrow’s Clones video shoot, and hooked up with Emile, who makes huge, beautiful music. I try to do that. So we are going to make some huge, beautiful music.

Goodnight, oh my peoples. Sweet dreams be thine. The future is ours.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, “Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?”

Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to manifest the glory of God that is within us … And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
– Nelson Mandela.

And, like Bill and Ted said: we should all be excellent to each other.

Try telling that to Cheney. 100,000 dead niggers? So what! 400,000? Now, that’s a result.

I keep thinking of all my - our - people rotting up in that cursed superdome. What is it, five days now? That freak child president playing fucking guitar on television. They’ve known this was going to happen since August 2nd. Go read LaRouche’s take. Dude speaks truth. Aside from the FACT that this wouldn’t be happening, like this, had that crazy Bush administration not taken all the money out of New Orleans flood prevention programme and stuck it into slaughtering Iraqi babies and “destabilising China”. And if there was, like, a National Guard, not currently dodging fucki

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