WE ARE AT WAR

Fox News announced yesterday that the USA is "already probably at war with Iran".

"What if I told you it is too late, that we’re already probably at war with Iran and most of us don’t even know it?" barked Fox "News" anchor Neil Cavuto. "Welcome everybody, I’m Neil Cavuto, and this is Your World."

Argh! "This is your world!" Cheek! How dare they dictate our reality to us!

Thing is though, that's what they do. You'll remember it was Fox that called the 2000 election for Bush, wrongly, then everyone else followed suit. So there you go. At war we are.

All I can say is

Snakes on a plane!

I copped the new Ghostface album yesterday. It is even better than the last one. There's a song on there about being able to breathe underwater, and chilling with mermaids and shit. I love Ghostface so much! There's even a Wu joint on there, featuring new verses from everyone bar the RZA, who comes with the introduction (although it's a reused thing from Fast Cars, which is kind of lame). They're running over an old Doom beat, from one of those Special Herbs joints. It's pretty classic shit. Ghost has amazing hip-hop production on this record. Pete Rock brings the biggest beat since Kick In The Door, or some shit. Doom is all over it. Lewis Parker comes correct. Even the obligatory R 'n' B single (Back Like That featuring Ne-Yo) is dope. Saying that, I was a huge fan of the much maligned Bulletproof Wallets lead-off, Never Be The Same Again with Carl Thomas. I loved that joint. So what do I know.

The Wu-Tang messageboard is hilarious as ever. Comparing the released album to the demos that were kicking about the net a while back, one kid, talking about Nine Milli Bros, the Wu joint, laments, "I think who ever mixed it did it on purpose to make the other verses sound better cause Decks verse was the sickes and now it doesnt sound good cause its off beat. I think I might commit suicide over this."

I pissed myself when I read that. Love!

There's a brilliant article about the record by Sasha Frere Jones over at the New Yorker, which contains the following:

"Last fall, in the middle of a riveting show at B.B. King’s, Ghostface asked a member of the stage crew to turn on a blue light. The d.j. put on “My Ebony Princess,” a 1977 single by Jimmy Briscoe & the Little Beavers, and Ghostface began to sing along: “Your eyes are dark as the night.” He stopped, listened to the record for a few seconds, and began talking about how his parents had conceived him while listening to this kind of soul music. Then he told the d.j. to stop the music. “For those that don’t have no soul, y’all wouldn’t really understand or know where the fuck I’m coming from when I play shit like that,” he said. “See—I was born in 1970, yo. You know what, I’m a seventies man, a Taurus and shit, and I love, like, shit like that. I’d rather write to shit like that than hip-hop any day.”

Yo, here's some more hot British terrorism for your ass. Love me.