ok

This Week I Have Been Mostly...

edge1 Olage gang!

It is a beautiful day here in East London, and I am going to get some sun even if it's just half an hour on the bicycle delivering post. So there.

So, what has been going on?

Jeres came round at 9 this morning to work on one of his songs, which is a jaunty ditty about the perils of cider.

I am drafting the schematics of the new akirathedon.com, The Greatest Music Website In The World. It goes into production on Saturday. Don't nobody hassle Zef, or even talk to him. HE'S BUSY!

I have been plotting an awesome and futuristic scheme to release the greatest LP since Thriller with said website at the core of said release.

I made a video for the first single to be taken from the best album since Thriller. It is dope.

I got an email off of Gonzales, who is holed up in Paris remixing a song from the greatest album since Thriller. The song is the greatest joyful pop song about love since Be My Baby.

I went to play football in Clissold park with Joey and James, but when I got there I had a message on my phone from my girl saying she'd locked herself out of our flat and run out of money, so I cycled back to let her in, and got some wine and some pizza, which was Joey's idea, and it was a bloody good idea cos it cheered her up. Getting locked out of your house sucks.

I got to play with my first iPhone ap yesterday. I don't have an iPhone. I have a Gphone. Cos I'm a G. But is pretty damn ill, still! More on that soon. I don't think the release date they have on their site is correct.

I approved the designs of my AMAZING NEW SHOES. Which should be in next week. I might have to kill myself after that, because I will surely have peaked.

I have been bugging out on coffee and B.oB.

Ihave been metting with my ace team in preperation for the fight scene shoots of the Zombie Video. Who's in london next weekend? Who wants to be in a fight scene in a zombie video?

I have been working on a giant art piece wot I have been commissioned to do, that involves me drawing tons of things and meshing them together. Drawing a beautiful portrait of Bob Dylan, I realised he DOES look just like a penis with some sunglasses on. But prettier, obviously. No shots.

I have been getting excited about Batman & Robin # 2, which is out today.

AND! I was worried about him, but I just found out that Charles Hamilton is OK. He's also soliciting his services as a producer/mixer/engineer, although he says he "will not mix or produce gangsta or misogynist music. At all. And though I'm ill at Autotune, you gotta be able to NOT rely on it. Period." Which kind of limits his options. But I am glad he's OK, still.

So, how about you? What's going on?

Appologies

So, there were a bunch of updates and pictures and things, and they got wiped! Oh, the tragedy. So, a recap. On my last day on Rivington Street I saw a white thug in an open-top Hummer drive by blasting out 'I Want The One I Can't Have' and nodding along with a serious expression about his face.

Then we went.

Wade and I ended up on the coach, as there was no room in the van, or car. We got there early, and checked out the scene. The scene is small.

We don't actually live in Woodstock. We live in Shandaken, outside. Well, just outside. Half way up a mountain, hidden away by forest, amongst bears and chipmunks and what have you. In a big old dusty house full of weird porn and broken stuff, with brown water and giant ants. Like, there's a jacuzzi, but it doesn't seem to work. There is the biggest TV you've ever seen, but it's got a big black tear across the front and doesn't tune properly. It's a two hour walk to the nearest shop, whihc is a petrol station, and does a good line in biscuits. The local girl's got a lot of guns.

It is very lovely to look at up in Shandaken. Mountains covered in trees, mainly. Streams. Clouds so low you can jump up and punch them.

I miss Wade, who is back in London sorting out affairs. All my stuff is in boxes.

Lush

So I fell alseep on the sofa after 5, and was awakened gently by Super Phil at 6:20, and it transpired Bird left my bag with my passport in it at the venue last night. But Bird's got me another ID card, so we're outside waiting for Jeff to pick us up at 6:30. And at midday we're in LA, and soon after that we're in Interscope's offices,and I'm filling a bag with Nirvana, Guns N Roses, Gilbert And Sullivan, Dre, Peter Gabriel, Police and other such back catalogue. Jimmy Iovine has a signed letter from Tupac and a video console that won't switch on. And loads of ideas. A balcony. A lush view. LA is lush to look at, from these places of advantage. Like, later we visit Jeff and Trent's, and there's this fucking alien cat that loves me, and an incredible, incredible view, of this desolate wilderness spattered with money.

It was a lovely day.

But in the nighttime it is hard not to see that LA is awash with cunts. It is a sad and massive amount of cunts, and I am not sure whether it is sad because this is what the world did to them, or because this is what they do to the world, or because they are cunts, and you can see their faces rotting right in front of your eyes.

Rested

After a nice little rest, I am back in London with a pink pack of eyeballs on my case. That shit looked nice on IE, but fucked up Mozilla. I don't know what it was doing to Macs. So he will live to the right. Read a bunch of Hilaire Belloc's The History Of England Vol XI, From The First Invasion By The Romans To The Ascension Of King George The Fifth on the train. I now realise that we are living in an oligarchy. Well, a strange, new fangled sort of oligarchy masked as a democracy. With a bit of a monarchy. But it is an oligarchy, nonetheless.

This book was published in 1915, and, interestingly, predicted that Russia would do what America has. The author is also in favour of true aristocracy, and I can see his point.