The Fall.

Luke sent me some of the new Fall stuff earlier, and I just got round to it, after an evening of fine cuisine and wine and chatter with my Mammy and her man and their friends about Stuff and Whathaveyou. Boy, it is some hot shit, dadio. Luke quite rightly noted that "a lot of it sounds like the kind of thing the London The bands would give a pack o' smack for." Some of it sounds like Garry Glitter too, and post-Rotten Pistols. I like the song 'Wrong Grass' best, it is an epic. I have been playing it on repeat for half an hour or something.

Mark E Smith has gums.

I also learn that my old mate Jim, who was kicked out of the band, as members of the band tend to be, has been kicked in again.

You know, I rather liked his replacement. He was very scary.

As predicted, Kobe got away with it. The message seems to be - if you have sex with different partners on any kid of regular basis… scrub that, if you have sex with anyone who isn't your fucking wife, you deserve to get raped.

For some reason, this made me more sad than this Bush List (it was the lead story in the day before yesterday's Independent, and while there's a lot you will probably know in there, there is a lot you may not, and certainly in this format it is pretty fucking hardcore) - which just depressed me. If that. I've almost a kind of tired resignation to the looting going on in the chambers of Power these days. I dread to think what kind of bullshit laws and constitutional amendments they rushed through while the world watched in horror as desperate people slaughtered innocent babies. And you Tony. You cunt.