My Dreamscape

In the last two weeks I've dreamed about nuclear war three times. I have seen full blown nuclear exposions from the end of the earth's atmosphere and mushroom clouds appear from my window.

Dream #1

As I look at the column of energy consume everything in its path like an immobile tornado my own cat is driven to complete insanity as the mushroom blossoms, I try to take him away from the horror that awaits but he scratches my face to pieces in the panic and fear that only a fragile creature like a cat can feel. Unusually, the only thing missing from my imagination was the intense white light that follows a nuclear explosion, the one that all voluntary witnesses are advised to shield their eyes from lest they destroy their retinas.

In this dream I see huge collumns of smoke one after the other, as many as seven consumed the entirity of my vision, towering into the sky dwarfing the 'skyskrapers' they engulfed. Each was entirely and perfectly locked into its own position, making no outward movements but shaking violently where it stood, seemingly sucking life from the ground to the heavens. The unison they showed was incredible, each was a precise replica of the last in its previous seconds and all towered thousands of metres into the sky joined by a grey cloud that was even higher than it ever seemed possible for the earth to reach. I wept in fear at their presence.

Dream #2

In another dream I witnessed the destruction of the earth from its own atmosphere, I saw mushrooms consume continents falling from rings that resembled those of cartoon planets. I saw billions die in this dream, I may well have been the only living survivor, a lucky anomaly who happened to miss a date with death. Again, all white light was absent and I was not blinded, I looked into the eye of the explosion and felt the fear and pain of every innocent and unassuming individual. I woke up before I could see the results, the last thing I remember thinking was how no-one could ever deserve this amount of suffering and weeping into a bowl at the loss of humanity whilst praying that this was just a dream.

Dream #3

In my final dream I was the most disturbed. I was aware of some kind of destruction, but I did not see it first hand like I had in the other dreams, although I knew it was enormous. People were shredded limb from limb, apparently torn to pieces. Faces were almost always missing. At times internal body organs were exposed in the living and breathing, stomachs protruded like dull red footballs beneath yellowing rib cages. I remember seeing animals that were once pets eating the feet and shoes of their human friends, people walked on all fours but behaved in their usual manner as if their revolting presence was not offensive. I saw a dog shit into a corner only to produce a hive of cockroaches that crawled over its body, searching its surface for the similarity they found inside the decaying cask that they had immediately left. I saw men eating their own hair because it was the only form of disposable and affordable nourishment. Water was exceptionally non existent and as far as I could see, liquid was a laughable luxury, life crumbled to the touch.

This is what I see, the images have no basis in reality, the only thing they can be is a product of what I have seen on TV...

My Dreamscape

The Great British Stag

Where do you begin when it comes to dissembling this fine human institution? Stag and hen parties are a staple for the marriage type, the final few hours of acting like an arse because you will apparently never be able to again once wed. Aren't they fantastic? A true testament to the human condition, all of the loudest and dimwitted of yr mates attempting to give you one last hurrah before the tedium of wedded bliss destroys yr soul. I don't understand why there is a need to dress up like a twat because yr getting married, maybe I don't understand the desire to get shitfaced in the next town over when there is an array of perfectly suitable drinking holes right where you already are, and maybe just maybe I don'tnt get the fucking point when you do the same thing every Friday night and in all fairness you are lucky to have found someone even worth marrying after you probably picked the drunk mess up in something like Oceana or the local Yates.

But more importantly, aside from the fact that all people on stag and hens look like twats there is another thing that really bothers me. The scale of ambition is pathetic. If someone I knew, least of all my BEST friends, thought throwing a big send off for me involved any of the following, I think I would rather be friendless:

Devil horns
Anything that sparkles (not including fireworks)
Custom print t-shirts
Wondering around old street
A kebab for the train home
Being home in bed by 2
Possibly going to a strip bar

So, yr friends are trying to give you a send off, why the fuck then are you wondering around some crappy part of London, with t-shirts two sizes too big that look like they have been printed in times new Roman size 12 font, yr still wearing yr work clothes and really the best they can muster is the possibility of a flesh show (because yr getting married, you've never seen a pair of tits before so now is the time to get acquainted with the female form). Where is the action? It all looks and sounds like its come out of a box, mass produced "memorability". Jesus Christ! I was on the train last night, yes that's right, the train so you are correct that would make the time EARLIER than 1am, and I see a stag party going home, the stag party had ended at about 12am, that would be a night to remember, because no night I can remember has ended before 3am for a long time. To me a night to remember needs to go on til at least dawn, that's just standard, it also needs to involve a lot more than a MacDonalds and/or a kebab and attempting to cream myself over toplesswoment at the same time as all my friends.

I want to set off fireworks from the back of cabs, I want bottles and bottles of booze and bags and bags of powders, I want the sleaziest clubs the city has to offer and when they close I want the worst of the afterparties and the very best of the bugging out corners, if we are going to strip clubs then I want the worst of the worst, I want to go to cheapest and dirtiest of the lot, then I want to go to kings cross and buy all my friends two for a tenner hookers and bring them in on the party, when I get hungry I dont want a kebab or a burger I want a barbeque in one of the royal parks and when it gets light i want to steal a car and drive to a house in the suburbs and use the pool to wash the filth that i have been rolling around in all night whilst the family sleeps in doors, then i will want to get married and if a hooker has somehow died along the way, not even that will matter.

The Great British Stag

Junkie playground

It's quite amazing how shit scared I get around kings cross, the ingrained threat of being turned into a sex toy is too high. Basically for those that don't know, kings cross is the centre of drug and people traficing in London. And by people I mean you and me as well as the slaves. Look at any missing poster and notice that anyonne lost in London was last seen in kings cross. It's a junkies playground. So we have me, lost somewhere between kings cross and farringdon, its all just as bad. So I'm fuck worried, I may hav beem here a million times before but since im explaining how bad it is im a lot more worried. And im using my phone to write this nonsense. Never a good idea. So what could happen? I could get abducted into the night, that's the worst possible outome, by a long shot, the other is getting my head kicked in and having my jaw broken again. Becoming a sex save is bascally the worst thing that could happen, I dont like people I don't know, I don't like people I don't know touching me, I dont like things beeing put in me. By my own rules this fucks me bad. Being punched in the face wont be fun, but id rather that than being arse raped by a 6.5ft nigerian in denial about his sexuality and thus treating me like a rag doll because he hates the latent homosexuality unfolding before his very eyes.

We are in weird territory now, not only the last comment but I'm on the bus now. The buses to kings cross are always full of crackheads, great, it smells like piss and damp dish rags because thats the smell of crack, if you don't believe me get on a 25 at 1am, thats the smell. So fuck, im trying to get out of kings cross but in order to get out I have to venture deeper into it's heart, Kings Cross station. Would you like to know why there are always so many junkies whores and psychos around major train stations in London, well FYI there are a number of reasons. Reason number one, when you are chucked out of home by yr parents for whatever reasons you leave to the biggest, nastiest place in the country, where there are endless possibilities and total anonymity for fuck ups to get by. Secondly, the level of tourism is blistering so the prospects for prostitutes and beggars are pretty decent. Finally, and most darkly, there is an unaknowledged fact that it is possible for a child who has run away from home to be in the hands of scumbags, pimps, junkies and pikeys within a day of landing in London, thus being turned into most of the above before the week's end.

But tonight it's an exodus, junkies, whores, thieves and psychos abound the bus stops apparently trying to board anything moving. Why do thy want to leave? This is where it's at for them... This is the pinnacle of their sad and lonely lives, they will never get more involved in their own personal hell than they are now...

Get the fuck back, there is nothing for you past calidonian road....

Junkie playground

Lost in space

It's 2009 and all in all the future has turned out to be pretty disappointing (given that we live in "the future" as it was perceived many years ago). The best we currently have is blue-ray, not holograms as promised, I for one am still using a VCR. Even video conferencing is rarely ever used by anyone with more than half a brain because it is completely shit. Even the nuclear war hasn't materialized as promised in countless 1980's dystopian films. And, most importantly, where the fuck are the robots? I want one of those father-son moments with a machine that i was promised by James Cameron.

Now it's time to take a look at the reality vs. wishful thinking.

Time travel, specifically flying DeLoreans as seen in Back to the Future parts one and two. We don't even have De Loreans anymore and the closest thing we have to time travel is system restore after you've fucked everything up on yr computer.



Robots/terminators/simulacrum/replicants as popularised by the genius imaginations of Philip K Dick and James Cameron. Amazing idea but what is the reality of this vision? Well, there is a fat little talking robot called Asimo in Disneyland in America that can walk and run just like a real boy! AND, this is quite amazing, he can recognise and learn new objects just like a terminator. Nothing like a terminator really, but we only know about the T-800 and the T-1000 and that ho in the third film, nothing from the Sarah Connor Chronicles counts because it's a terrible programme, so there may have been a very early terminator that was just like Asimo.



The huge dystopian blocks that tower over the ghetto underworld. This is sort of relevant in a round about way, we do have tower blocks, but they aren't very high and the ones that are REALLY high are office blocks, and whilst they are surrounded by other tall buildings it's not really the same is it... If the tallest buildings in the world were all next to each other in a small circle then we might be on the right track, but as it stands they are thousands of miles apart. So, don't expect any Blade Runner super structures any time soon.



Thermonuclear war - Twice in 1945 a small island had the shit nuked out of it, then other small islands and deserts also had the shit nuked out of them until the practice was banned in 1963 via the limited test ban treaty, but some people carried on testing until 1980, then everyone carried on carrying out nuclear tests underground until 1996 when the comprehensive test ban treaty was brought in, and even then some people have still carried on testing! (North Korea 2009). So nuclear war could be closer than we think, then everything will probably be like escape from New York with added fallout.



There were loads of other things promised to us by the Gods of science fiction but we only ever got as far as the moon, how fucking shitty is that? I must say I'm pretty disappointed because what we have instead of the robots, time travel, supersonic journeys through space, flying advertisements and space meals is mundane banality along the lines of GTA IV, wide screen televisions, hybrid cars and 3G mobile phones. It's too tame, nothing has liberated like I was promised as a kid, none of the action has materialised. Science Fiction lied to me. Imagine living in the 1950s when it was actually plausible that this stuff could happen, imagine the first time you ever saw a television set, when you saw a rocket take off and man step foot on the moon, imagine the freedom that a washing machine and microwave bought to 1950s women. Now all we have is technology that allows us to work harder from home and in our free time. It's total banality that borders more on the world of 1984 than that of the Fifth Element.

"Wow! Now I can watch failblog AND check my emails on the go!"

Lost in space

Easily the worst entry so far

There was a point when this was the case:

"I think i may ahve realized today that i have a drink problem, this is the first time its ever occured to me that something i enjoy so regularly is possibly the cause of a lot of my problems. To be quite honest my drinking never beem an issue to me, its always been questionable the amount i drink but never once actually worried me. Recently i have developed a paranoia about my liver because of th amount i drink and today i realized the exrent. After half a bottle of gin and about six whiskeys id expexr to feel a bit out of itt, but no such luck, im a bit groggy but my mind is fully alert and cinical, none of this entertains me or tickles my party spirit. for once im clear that the drink is not working at all. Not at all. Its a bizzarre sensation. The knowledge that yr wasted, technically, but not actually drunk and it has me on the ropes. Have i caught up with myself? Im actually afraid to meet the wall that is gonna consign my freedom as i know it to a dustbin. And unfortunately there is no happy ending, i dont actually know what ive done to me. Ive probably wrecked it so far that its too late, but i dont honestly know. I shd stop but i cant, i dont know how, i realistically have a huge problem that i dont think i can control. And i know its a pathetic request but i think i need help, not the kind of help that is gonna lock me away for years on end or mean that i can never touch a drink again, because in that case id merely be avoiding a problem. I want to be fixed so im back to a basic level of normality, the kind where i can still get drunk but enjoy it as an event rather than a necessity. im purely sick of the confusion this brings, that lack of concentration and search for the right word that has no conclusion and leads me to a patheic alternative. The feeling my insides feel everyday, the loss of gravity within a swimming sea of diet soft drinks that leave me feeling baron and empty the next day, i quite literally feel rotten inside as if some product of the consumption still resides within me but physically has no belonging. But again i cant change, a reduction is a possibility but will it make any difference, because i have to drink so much that the damage is still dangerous, my life has become a revolution around the night. I cant remeber if i can enjoy a drink, i guess i can but i honestly dont see the point if it isnt some partt of a drunken plan, i love the drunken plan, at least its a purpose. So i guess thats that, at least ive had enough to knock me out, which is anothr purpose to drink when its been this long, like i said, purpose...."


I feel just like a real boy again...

Easily the worst entry so far

I booked a band...

So, I have been very busy this week with an array of projects; there has been the usual DJing, my attempt to control as much of the promotion of London clubs as is humanly possible with the best team anyone could ever hope for and the thing closest to my heart, booking bands.

So that in mind, I have my very good friends and AV spectaculars Young Athletes League playing White Heat on Tuesday. Exciting times!

Links below

This is Monaco Sunglasses by Young Athletes League


This is their blog


This is White Heat

I booked a band...

Tara Starlet

A few months ago I interviewed Tara Starlet, the article was recently published in SMITHS magazine. Click on the picture of the text to read the article.

Tara Starlet