Five Hundred Miles An Hour And One Ton Per Square Meter

Meanwhile Akira The Don sits at his desk and mixes the remaining songs for his compilation album, Living In The Future.

Last night he recorded a new song for the record. Listening back to it today it makes him cry, on cue, in the same place, every time he listens to it.

He wonders if that's because it evokes in him the precise feeling he remembers experiencing during the moments he describes. He wonders if anyone who listens to it will feel the same feelings, despite not having had that experience.

He doesn't usually consider how his recordings will make people feel, and wonders why this one made him do that.

Probably they will, he thinks.

Yesterday Akira The Don took the train to Camden, with the music of that song that makes him cry in his headphones. He wrote some of the words on his telephone, then read about Libya on his Al Jazeera app. App is a funny word, he thought to himself. The app told him about how people were dying because of the oil spill in the gulf of Mexico.

"I have critically high levels of chemicals in my body," 33-year-old Steven Aguinaga of Hazlehurst, Mississippi told Al Jazeera. "Yesterday I went to see another doctor to get my blood test results and the nurse said she didn't know how I even got there... I have terrible chest pain, at times I can’t seem to get enough oxygen, and I'm constantly tired with pains all over my body. At times I'm pissing blood, vomiting dark brown stuff, and every pore of my body is dispensing water."

For now, he lives. His friend is dead.

"After we got back from our vacation in Florida, Merrick went to work for a company contracted by BP to clean up oil in Grand Isle, Louisiana," Aguinaga said of his 33-year-old physically fit friend. "Aside from some gloves, BP provided no personal protection for them. He worked for them for two weeks and then died on August 23. He had just got his first paycheck, and it was in his wallet, uncashed, when he died."

In Camden Akira The Don visited world famous mastering studio The Exchange, where world famous masterer Mike Marsh was mastering his second LP, The Life Equation. Some last minute changes had been made. Steven Hague, who made the record with Akira, had been worried they wouldn't be ale to get into mastering for three weeks or maybe even more, due to the constant high demand for Mike Marsh's expertise, but when he rang a surprise opening had occurred meaning they could get in the studio right away.

Mastering is the final polish that is applied to a record before it is sent to the pressing plants to be put onto plastic dics, or sent through the inertubes to distributors to be turned into wavs and MP3s. It is a dark art, and few people truly understand it.

Mike Marsh is one of those few people. He was happy with the results, and he looked like a Jedi, glowing as he was with effervescence and vim. He put it down to all the fishes he eats.

In the mastering studio, they had this:

This morning Akira The Don had a weed hangover, and was sat at his desk mixing for a good while before his fiancée told him about the earthquake, and the tsunami.

Lucky mud, he thought, and got onto Twitter to see what the hell was going on with the world.

Twitter said,

Akira The Don thought that even with an abacus the size of The Great Wall Of China, he would never be able to count all of his blessings.