SIC

SUPERHERO MUSIC

[sleeve id="8455"] WOOOO HOOO!

It is all but done!

I am giving it a once over now, then I'm gonna play it on the Doncast at 5pm GMT!

Then I am gonna do a final master tweak, render it and chop it and tag it and zip it and up it to preorderers. And finish the art. Then up the stream.

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!

The Joy Of Rush

Boy, you forget sometimes how ill Rush were. Then you get reminded by some weird Canadian TV show about a trailer park.

I am afraid I have forgotten the name of the show. Any of you Gods know it?

All this machinery Making modern music Can still be open-hearted Not so coldly charted Its really just a question Of your honesty

One likes to believe In the freedom of music But glittering prizes And endless compromises Shatter the illusion Of integrity

For the words of the profits Are written on the studio wall, Concert hall --- Echoes with the sounds... Of salesmen The Spirit Of Radio Lyrics by Neil Peart

Thassright!

In other news:

Castro out!

Indy in!

Crooks And Liars

"People are so anxious to record, they'll sign anything... like going across the river on the back of an alligator."Tom Waits

1: Bush Pardons Self! (Thanks Ben for the link)

2: Good article in the Guardian about the systematic evil of record companies (cheers PPF!).

"Artists go there dreaming of being signed. But out of every 10 signed nine will fail. A contract with a major record company was always a 90 per cent guarantee of failure. In the boardroom the talk was never of music, only of units sold. Artists were never the product; the product was discs - 10 cents' worth of vinyl selling for $10 - 10,000 per cent profit - the highest mark-up in all of retail marketing. Artists were simply an ingredient, without even the basic rights of employees.

Imagine the outcry if people working in a factory were told that the cost of the products they were making would be deducted from their wages, which anyway would only be paid if the company managed to sell the products. Or that they would have to work for the company for a minimum of 10 years and, at the company's discretion, could be transferred to any other company at any time."

Tom Cruise On! Tom Cruise Scientologist!

"Orgs are there to help, okay? But we as, you know, also the public, it’s like… we have a responsibility. It’s not just the Orgs. It’s not just David Miscavidge. You know? It’s not just… not just me! It’s you. It’s everyone out there kind of s… re-reading KSW and looking at what needs to be done and saying, “Okay! Am I gonna do it, or am I not gonna do it?” Period! And am I gonna look at that guy? Or am I too afraid? Because I have my own Out Ethics to put in someone else’s Ethics. And that’s all it comes down to.

And I won’t hesitate to put ethics in on someone else. You know? Because I put it ruthlessly in on myself. And I think that, uh… I respect that. In… in others. And, uh… you know. I’m there to help. And we’re here to help. And my opinion is, is that, look, you’re either on board, or you’re not on board, okay? But just… if you’re on board, you’re on board, just like the rest of us. Period.

We are the authorities on getting people off drugs. We are the authorities on the mind. We are the authorities on improving conditions. Criminon. We can rehabilitate criminals. Way to Happiness… we can bring peace uh… and unite cultures. Uh… that, once you know these tools and you know that they work, it’s… it’s not good enough that… that I’m just doing okay."

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Frank T J Mackey LIVES!

Hey, anyone know what the music that's playing in the background is? It is really bugging me. Also, If it were mine, I would sue. Unless I were "clear". In which case I would be a Scientologist. Ya dig?

Oh, I just found out what the Scientologist word for non-Scientologists is. It is..........

Wogs.

Serious!

AHAHAHAHAHA!

What The Hell Is The MDA...

...and what is the MDA Senior Management Rap?

All I know is its some company from Singapore's upper echelons starring in a relatively expensive looking rap video, with a hook lifted from a classic KRS joint, and a beat "inspired" by the good Dr Dre.

A blogger from Singapore writes,

"I don't know who is KRS-One. But saw this video clip on one of the forum. I'm sure the chorus sound familiar to you. I bet that horrible rap [MDA's] is still repeating itself in your head... don't worry. This video clip is by a professional rapper. Although I don't really know how to enjoy rap music, but it sounds a lot better that the MDA rap. (I want to say that there can't be anything worst than the MDA rap. But I'm always afraid that another civil service group will proof me wrong)"

Well I find it rather charming!

How long before UK companies take heed and start releasing rap videos instead of as well as adverts? 400,000 views on Youtube is not to be sniffed at. And its not like most rap videos aren't adverts for something, anyway.

Apart from Prisoner Cell Block P's new joint, which is awesome, and seemingly does nothing but let us know that P is cotdamn NUTS in the FACE. Dude splits some cracka ass cracka's wig with a cotdamn TEEVEE SON! OMFG DOT COM!

The Truth About The Music Industry According To Chamillionaire

All you moaning ass rappers, hating on your label, your distributor, your manager, whatever - listen to Cham! Cham speaks the truth! There is better advice in this video than you ever got off of anybody! Word to Stan Lee's How To Draw Comics The Marvel Way!

PS - We saw Ratatouille last night, and confirm that it is great.

PPS - CARTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Police On My Back

Lethal Bizzle's new single is Police On My Back, a song I made especially for him when I was told he might like us to work together, and my favourite song out of the five we did.

It was Jo Whiley's record of the week last week, it's Steve Lamaqc's as well. Apparently. That is blessing from the holy Evening Sesson The Britpop Years duo. Ya diiiig!

In other news, SiC has a new website, made by clever Zef, here. Check the media page for a downloadable label sampler.

I have very little say on the whole Blackwater thing other than

"Urgh."

The Morning News

I have been enjoying some rap albums lately - PE's new joint, How You Sell Soul to a Soulless People Who Sold Their Soul??? is throwback illness. Kanye's Graduation is a masterpiece, as far as the production is concerned, and the vocals aren't far back. The last track in particular, Big Brother, over-proves Kanye's lyrical worth - a cute ode to his hero Jay-Z, it shits all over the similarly autobiographical tales told on Jay's lacklustre bin filler. Kingdom... came and wet pretty quick, no?

50's joint is a lot better than I thought it would be. Like Billy X Sunday, I got the clean version first, and that just didn't make sense. The, um, unclean version, South Welsh gun trade intro sequence intact, makes much more sense. 50 needs to say "bitch" and "nigger" a whole lot ot make sense. He spends the whole CD threatinging to either shoot, or fruit the listener over well chosen beats, and keeps it entertaining for the most part. I gotta admit that I am now fully addicted to all of the singles, and wake up singing them, apart from that Robin Thicke one which sucks more balls than that lottery machine with all the balls in it and the sucking pipe. Ya diiig?

ANYWAY. That stuff is kind if irrelevant (whatever Rolling Stone says. We all remember Blur VS Oasis over here, but who still bumps Roll With It OR Country House? Quite.) The rap album of the year, one I can't see anyone messing with on any level, musically or lyrically, snuck up on me like that VAT bill last month. It's Chamilionaire's Ultimate Victory. No messing. That ugly dude has made a record that does everything Dead Prez wanted to. It is gangsta. It is revolutionary. It is clever. It is Hardbody, Hardfaced, Hardnosed. It is POP as hell. You've banged the whole thing five times in a row before you notice there aren't any swears on the thing. True story.

I'm even gonna forgive dude for sampling The Final Countdown (I was doing that, asshole!). Why? Cos Chamilionaire is saving hip-hop. Chamilionaire is killing it (rap slang is a funny thing, I know). Musically, he's on that epic, rap-Bon Jovi via-keyboards, fonky, stank-ass rattattatta drum-fill post Dirty South arpeggio shit I love, that shit you usually only get to hear Lil Wayne and Baby talk about poppin' bottles on. To hear Cham spit TRUTH on such musical lushness is a fuckin' joy. Morning News alone is better than every other rap song you heard this summer (yeah, I Get Money was tough. This is tougher). I know some of you fools might not like his fast flow/dubbed every line style, but that's YOUR problem.

So, I was at Proms In The park yesterday. It was TERRIFYING. I imagine that's what Klan rallies are like. Pics and more info tomorrow. Sleep tight kids.

Thanks For All The AIDS - The T Shirt

Sorry, SOLD OUT

Forsooth! We have right here, just arrived, the first ten Thanks For All The AIDS Ts. Screen printed in blood red on a classic white Fruit Of The Loom T, available on one size - LARGE (yes ladies, you do look your hottest padding about the crib in nothing but a big ass T!). Hand numbered. Fifteen pounds. A classic already. This is the finest thing I have ever produced. This is the pinnacle of my career so far.

This is the inaugural Thanks For All The AIDS T shirt.

AK's World of Weird!

"I wasn't driving. The black kid was driving." Lyndsey Lohan

First up! Today's Hackney Gazette headlines:

Raid On Hotel Crack Den! Man Found Hanging In Graveyard!

The Hackney Gazette - Hating on Hackney est. fucking ages!

OK. Eminem - well, Eminem's publishers - are suing Apple for flogging his music on iTunes. Basically, it stems down to this argument that just because record companies have the rights to sell records, doesn't mean they have the right to sell MP3s. "Apple pays about 70 cents of their 99-cent download fee to the artist’s record label," reports XXL, "which, in turn, pays about 9.1 cents to the music publisher... the problem lies in how the remaining 60.9 cents is distributed. Since digital downloads are typically treated as sales, the artist is only entitled to a royalty, which is a small percentage of that amount. If the transactions were treated as licensing agreements, the artist would receive a larger amount."

You get that, kids? The record company pockets 60 cents out of a dollar! It's not like they even pay promo or anything out of that. The artists pays for that shit. And these greedy fucks wonder why their industry is collapsing around them! I have said it many times, but musicians just don't make money out of selling records, and this is why. that's why the Wu have to tour.

Speaking of which, Billy X Sunday caught the aforementioned's set at Rock The Bells in NYC on the weekend (word to Blood Red), and wrote an interesting blog for XXL about how it's only really white kids at these shows.

"Black folks," wrote he, "y’all need to step up your Hip-Hop love. Have a park jam or something where the deejay pulls power from a streetlamp. Walk around with a big ass piece of cardboard and just put it down and breakdance. Go steal a can of Krylon and cop some tags somewhere, but just become Hip-Hop again."

To which one of the fruitflies in the comments section replied:

"LOL!

I wanna bring it back to the old dayz in my neighborhood, but now we have certaint CHARGES to worry about like…UNLAWFUL BLOCK PARTY and them PIGS runnin up and saying you and your friends are a gang and have to dispurse from where u are ( thanks to a new NY State LAW stating a group of 3 or more, dressing alike and or enganging in the same activities is a gang).. Now I don’t know about yall hoods but in mine in upstate, NY bieng black and loving yourself and culture is a CRIME, and displaying any form of that.. (Even battle rapping in the park)..will get u ran up on and probally searched and ya name ran for the night!!! so yeah i think downloads and bootlegs are the future in my neighboorhood… SORRY TO SAY!!! "

You get that? Hip-hop couldn't happen now. Think on that a little while, then get into ...

AK's World of Weird!

UFOs in Wrexham! "I ran inside and got my camcorder. I thought they could be helicopters but when I zoomed in I was scared to death. They were glowing red in the middle. I'm a very logical person. We are not into the paranormal at all. I thought people would think we were barmy if we said we saw UFOs."

UFOs in Stratford! "A crowd of 100 stunned stargazers brought a town centre to a standstill when five mysterious UFOs were spotted hovering in the sky."

Arab Fragging Robots With Guns! (Skygod help us) "Here's a video of Lockheed Martin's MULE advanced robotic vehicle in action, complete with Joes and baddies shooting at each other while the MULE fires its machine gun, gives away free rockets to an enemy tank and pinpoints targets for ballistic missiles."

Remote Control Jets Off To Bomb Iraq! "The Reaper is loaded, but there is no one on board. Its pilot, as it bombs targets in Iraq, will sit at a video console 7,000 miles away in Nevada."

Pentagon developing robots with conscience! (Yeah right!) "There are two types of robot warriors: robots as extensions of human soldiers, in which human operators make all decisions relating to the use of deadly force, and the autonomous robot, which would make its own decisions on the same, based on programmed ethical principles." We came from space like SUPERMAN! Possibly. "About 25 years ago, two British astronomers, Fred Hoyle and Chandra Wickramsinghe, proposed that comets might be the Johnny Appleseeds of life, carrying vital spores from star system to star system, an idea that is known today as panspermia."

There we have it!

A Pair Of Emails

I got lots of nice emails when I was in jail hospital. Like this one: Dude,

Akira if you need a kidney I'll give you one. I'm serious.

Your Friend, Sleek Mouse

Which is good to know. My old man came to visit me the other day and he said he cried when he read all the nice messages you'd left me. He said when he was young all he wanted out of life was for someone to miss him when he went. Well, I'll miss him. He is a funny old sod and no mistake. Jeres will miss him too. So he's doing better than Lonely Blair already. Nobody misses him.

I got some perplexing messages too. Like this one: how's it goin' akira? I need some advice. What should I do? I have a girlfriend here in oregon and I'm going back to tennesee in a week. I don't feel as though I want to be with her anymore but I don't want to hurt her feelings. What should I do?

Robert 16 SPRING HILL, TENNESSEE

Like, who am I, Mystic Meg? Dear Deidre? Simon Cowel? I am not, obviously. I am also not fully recovered, so my mental faculties may not be blasting at full velocity. But still. What I think, Robert, after all my years of foolishness, is that the worst thing a boy can do to a girl is deceive her. And the best thing a boy can do for a girl is be be real with her. Anyway, my American geography is bad, but I suspect Oregon is far enough from Tennessee to make a relationship difficult, even if you were really bothered. So say goodbye, in a nice way - talk of the things you've experienced and learnt together, thank her for the good times, and wish her well. Then ride off into the sunset on a white horse with a blood red cloak draped over your shoulders, whistling that Andrew WK song about not going to bed.

Alternately, lie, tell her you're moving to Spain to live with your sick father, and borrow her credit card to buy Smiths albums and chicken, which is what I did when I was your age. The adverse karma, however, is still fucking with me. So maybe don't bother.

So! Did you see that Amish inspired video for Kanye's brillaint 'Can't Tell Me Nothing'? it's got Will Oldham in it. On a tractor. I think it's beautiful. Speaking ow which, Wes Anderson's got a new joint on the way called The Darjeeling Limited. Trailer here. RAH!

Oh, look down the bottom left of the page, and you'll notice the announcement of three gigs.

Over and out.

A Pair Of Emails

I got lots of nice emails when I was in jail hospital. Like this one: Dude,

Akira if you need a kidney I'll give you one. I'm serious.

Your Friend, Sleek Mouse

Which is good to know. My old man came to visit me the other day and he said he cried when he read all the nice messages you'd left me. He said when he was young all he wanted out of life was for someone to miss him when he went. Well, I'll miss him. He is a funny old sod and no mistake. Jeres will miss him too. So he's doing better than Lonely Blair already. Nobody misses him.

I got some perplexing messages too. Like this one: how's it goin' akira? I need some advice. What should I do? I have a girlfriend here in oregon and I'm going back to tennesee in a week. I don't feel as though I want to be with her anymore but I don't want to hurt her feelings. What should I do?

Robert 16 SPRING HILL, TENNESSEE

Like, who am I, Mystic Meg? Dear Deidre? Simon Cowel? I am not, obviously. I am also not fully recovered, so my mental faculties may not be blasting at full velocity. But still. What I think, Robert, after all my years of foolishness, is that the worst thing a boy can do to a girl is deceive her. And the best thing a boy can do for a girl is be be real with her. Anyway, my American geography is bad, but I suspect Oregon is far enough from Tennessee to make a relationship difficult, even if you were really bothered. So say goodbye, in a nice way - talk of the things you've experienced and learnt together, thank her for the good times, and wish her well. Then ride off into the sunset on a white horse with a blood red cloak draped over your shoulders, whistling that Andrew WK song about not going to bed.

Alternately, lie, tell her you're moving to Spain to live with your sick father, and borrow her credit card to buy Smiths albums and chicken, which is what I did when I was your age. The adverse karma, however, is still fucking with me. So maybe don't bother.

So! Did you see that Amish inspired video for Kanye's brillaint 'Can't Tell Me Nothing'? it's got Will Oldham in it. On a tractor. I think it's beautiful. Speaking ow which, Wes Anderson's got a new joint on the way called The Darjeeling Limited. Trailer here. RAH!

Oh, look down the bottom left of the page, and you'll notice the announcement of three gigs.

Over and out.

Hospital Diaries Part 1

Saturday July 14th

I was cheered on Friday by Conrad Black's guilty verdict and Boris Johnson's mayoral bid. When one realises that politics is run by big business, and that it is all a farce, one expects interesting players at the very least. Boris makes me laugh which is more than I can say for most of the drab cast of "Real" Politik 2007. I can't wait to see his funny face plastered all over London.

Lights go out at 11, I think it is. I have a curtain drawn around my maneuverable bed. Anyway. Lights go out, and the man in the bed next to me lets out a mighty, squeaky fart. Nobody else laughs but me.

I wake up at 3am soaking wet with sweat, freezing cold, and feverish. Someone has taken my tubes out of me. I feel weird without my tubes. Eventually I fall asleep in my wet, shivering.

At 5am my bed is suddenly a hive of activity. All AK systems are go - doctors and nurses swarm about me filling me with tubes and drugs and all manner of exotic weirdness. By 7am there us utterly no more sleep allowed, and I am assigned yet another short chubby Jamaican nurse. This one is called Janet. She is nice to me.

At about 9 a lady comes to take some blood out of me. Amidst doing so she somehow manages to stab herself in the finger with the needle. She totally freaks out. I might have AIDS, you see.

Very soon a number of serious people visit me to enquire about my sexual history and ask if I mind being tested for The Dreaded AIDS and The Hepatitis and all that. Of course I don't! I have been meaning to for ages anyway.

Opposite me there is a Vietnamese man (I think he's Vietnamese, Janet thinks he's Chinese) who was bought in last night and speaks no English. Nobody has been able to communicate with him, which seems silly to me - are there not interpreters in London? Surely this sort of thing happens all the time? Now he seems to be in great pain. "Ooh! Ooh!" he cries, lying in an exaggerated foetal position on his bed like a big monkey, clawing at his back. He sicks up the drugs they give him, and emits the first English I have heard from him in the 17 hours we have spent in the same room - "No good!" he whimpers, sadly, before savagely beating his own back. "No good! No good!"

We exchange understanding glances. He has really nice shoes.

Around lunchtime, my television, which costs £5 a day and has nothing on it, tells me that Spar is 50. Wow! 50 years of Spar! I did my first shoplifting in Spar, when I was 8. I feel a song coming on, then the feeling goes. Hospitals aren't good for creative people. The food is too upsetting.

Suddenly, in the early afternoon, I am moved to another ward - out of the constant surveillance one, that's full of shrieking weirdoes, into a normal one, called Lloyd Ward. My universe has changed. I no longer have a window bed.

My new, immediate neighbours seem a little less crazy than the last lot (bearing in mind my last lot included a mad old grey man who looked like a ghost, invaded my bed area scarily and often, and on my first night in hospital, woke me up at 3am when he exploded in a wet shower of shit). They number a small club footed old white man who likes to wear big suede boots in bed and makes weird hacking noises, a seven foot bright pink giant of a man with black features, huge mangled toes and a huge, similarly mangled family, and a nice quiet old black gentleman with an absolutely lovely wife who says hello and goodbye to me twice a day. And she tips her hat to me. More people should be tipping their hats.

CLICK HERE FOR PART 2

Hospital Diaries Part 1

Saturday July 14th

I was cheered on Friday by Conrad Black's guilty verdict and Boris Johnson's mayoral bid. When one realises that politics is run by big business, and that it is all a farce, one expects interesting players at the very least. Boris makes me laugh which is more than I can say for most of the drab cast of "Real" Politik 2007. I can't wait to see his funny face plastered all over London.

Lights go out at 11, I think it is. I have a curtain drawn around my maneuverable bed. Anyway. Lights go out, and the man in the bed next to me lets out a mighty, squeaky fart. Nobody else laughs but me.

I wake up at 3am soaking wet with sweat, freezing cold, and feverish. Someone has taken my tubes out of me. I feel weird without my tubes. Eventually I fall asleep in my wet, shivering.

At 5am my bed is suddenly a hive of activity. All AK systems are go - doctors and nurses swarm about me filling me with tubes and drugs and all manner of exotic weirdness. By 7am there us utterly no more sleep allowed, and I am assigned yet another short chubby Jamaican nurse. This one is called Janet. She is nice to me.

At about 9 a lady comes to take some blood out of me. Amidst doing so she somehow manages to stab herself in the finger with the needle. She totally freaks out. I might have AIDS, you see.

Very soon a number of serious people visit me to enquire about my sexual history and ask if I mind being tested for The Dreaded AIDS and The Hepatitis and all that. Of course I don't! I have been meaning to for ages anyway.

Opposite me there is a Vietnamese man (I think he's Vietnamese, Janet thinks he's Chinese) who was bought in last night and speaks no English. Nobody has been able to communicate with him, which seems silly to me - are there not interpreters in London? Surely this sort of thing happens all the time? Now he seems to be in great pain. "Ooh! Ooh!" he cries, lying in an exaggerated foetal position on his bed like a big monkey, clawing at his back. He sicks up the drugs they give him, and emits the first English I have heard from him in the 17 hours we have spent in the same room - "No good!" he whimpers, sadly, before savagely beating his own back. "No good! No good!"

We exchange understanding glances. He has really nice shoes.

Around lunchtime, my television, which costs £5 a day and has nothing on it, tells me that Spar is 50. Wow! 50 years of Spar! I did my first shoplifting in Spar, when I was 8. I feel a song coming on, then the feeling goes. Hospitals aren't good for creative people. The food is too upsetting.

Suddenly, in the early afternoon, I am moved to another ward - out of the constant surveillance one, that's full of shrieking weirdoes, into a normal one, called Lloyd Ward. My universe has changed. I no longer have a window bed.

My new, immediate neighbours seem a little less crazy than the last lot (bearing in mind my last lot included a mad old grey man who looked like a ghost, invaded my bed area scarily and often, and on my first night in hospital, woke me up at 3am when he exploded in a wet shower of shit). They number a small club footed old white man who likes to wear big suede boots in bed and makes weird hacking noises, a seven foot bright pink giant of a man with black features, huge mangled toes and a huge, similarly mangled family, and a nice quiet old black gentleman with an absolutely lovely wife who says hello and goodbye to me twice a day. And she tips her hat to me. More people should be tipping their hats.

CLICK HERE FOR PART 2

Bizzle Vid Part 1

lethal B's filming a video tomorrow. He's filming 2 videos this week. MADMAN. Anyway, video 2 is for Babylon's Burning Down The Ghetto, which I produced and sing relatively not-that-badly on. We're gonna destroy an estate in the video. AHAHAHAHAHA! That will be fun.

Video 1 is being filmed between 12p and 3pm in Shoreditch tomorrow, and is a YouTube video for his cover of House Of Pain's Jump. If you wanna come, mail me isn't it.

And if you wanna hear those tunes I mentioned, check the boy's MySpace.

Bizzle Vid Part 1

lethal B's filming a video tomorrow. He's filming 2 videos this week. MADMAN. Anyway, video 2 is for Babylon's Burning Down The Ghetto, which I produced and sing relatively not-that-badly on. We're gonna destroy an estate in the video. AHAHAHAHAHA! That will be fun.

Video 1 is being filmed between 12p and 3pm in Shoreditch tomorrow, and is a YouTube video for his cover of House Of Pain's Jump. If you wanna come, mail me isn't it.

And if you wanna hear those tunes I mentioned, check the boy's MySpace.

Connection Part 327

I guess I'm pretty lucky. I get lots of great letters. I have been meaning to do a letters page for a bit, but they are a bugger to edit. Soon though. Anyway. I got this one yesterday:

"Yeah it's me again, Richard from Illinois aka RIVE. That guy that showed you the DEVO picture.

Anyway, I just watched your Stunners 130 music video of Smells Like Stunners, and you guys ripped off the head of the stuffed tiger then used it as a mask!

A few weeks back I drew a picture of a man wearing the head of a white tiger as a mask. I like to call him Byrant.

I got the idea from an actual mask I own with a hat that's on top of it, and also from Buckethead after playing Guitar Hero II.

I have attached a few neat pictures including the original. What's up with that? Seriously."

Indeed. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS COINCIDENCE RICHARD! We are not alone. Remember the blanket. Etc.

I think all this stuff is really neat. There is so much of it, so often, I am amazed when people think its odd. It is NORMAL!

Doesn't mean its not awesome. But still.

Connection Part 327

I guess I'm pretty lucky. I get lots of great letters. I have been meaning to do a letters page for a bit, but they are a bugger to edit. Soon though. Anyway. I got this one yesterday:

"Yeah it's me again, Richard from Illinois aka RIVE. That guy that showed you the DEVO picture.

Anyway, I just watched your Stunners 130 music video of Smells Like Stunners, and you guys ripped off the head of the stuffed tiger then used it as a mask!

A few weeks back I drew a picture of a man wearing the head of a white tiger as a mask. I like to call him Byrant.

I got the idea from an actual mask I own with a hat that's on top of it, and also from Buckethead after playing Guitar Hero II.

I have attached a few neat pictures including the original. What's up with that? Seriously."

Indeed. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS COINCIDENCE RICHARD! We are not alone. Remember the blanket. Etc.

I think all this stuff is really neat. There is so much of it, so often, I am amazed when people think its odd. It is NORMAL!

Doesn't mean its not awesome. But still.