heh.

That really does it for me...

The google for

deathboy "let me show you"

winds up with a link on Natasha Thomas' fucking fansite.

Ohhhhhhh, i'll get sued now.

:)

I guess I should re-iterate that my usage of the track "Let Me Show You", which I consider absolutely enchanting, but found the urge to rip off the MOV from LaCost's advert site and make it into some real music is absolutely illegal insofar as I shouldn't be distributing a reused copyrighted work.

So, ok, nobody tell on me, yeah?

Because if you do, you're basically that kid that was friends with the rich, pretty kid who had all the cool stuff.

I wrote this track because I listened to the advert many, many times.

I fell in love with it.

I looked into it and found it was a strange ad-version of a track called "save your kisses" by Natasha Thomas. The more I researched, the more my idea that the girl who sang this was some fairy-like perfect child was reinforced.

She's so perfect that she's been adopted as a spokesperson for LaCoste, with an empassioned version of her song for the track. The original of which is just an Ace of Bass ripoff. But that advert version? Fuck. Made me 13 again. Made me fly. Made me want to take drugs again.

I wish I could be perfect. I know I can't _be_ perfect. I know I can't even fool them. But I continue to construct increasingly more subtle disguises.

I live in a world looking out and up at these perfect creatures. They live in a different world to me, dictating what's liked, what's right.

Sometimes I agree. Usually, I want to burn them all down and rape their carcasses.

Sometimes they accidentally snag a fairy princess.

'course, by now, they'll have made her a whore.

But for a brief moment, there's this glistening, perfect image in my mind, fluttering by.

So I'll seize it. And drown it in dirty, industrial amber.

Enjoying and/or copying my filthy industrial derivative shite clearly marks you out as being a member of the alternative alternative masses.

Fuck the system's sister, kids.

I'm so arrested.

Let Me Show You (a drug symphony in two parts) - DeathBoy

Let Me Show You (a game that we play) - DeathBoy

I realise that I've linked to this a few times, and here's why:

For all the music I've written this year, this is my favourite, this is what's really me, and inside me.

Black Morning is my fuckup loneliness. Cheap shot is my aggression. "Shut up" is my hatred. It's all facets.

I'm not mr angry deathboy. I hate and sliceup privately. I love and hurt differently. I AM mr angry deathboy. 'n then I'm blissful. This shouty music's a great fucking game.

I 'spose my hate-music is how I often AM.

My tech/fuckup/trip music is how I _want_ to be.

My music's my dreaming.

This is me. Dreaming.

that time of night.

Just fucking look at the LaCoste website, and tell me you don't want to stab something beautiful.

Some of us can NEVER be beautiful.

And that's just fucking fine by me, just so long as I don't get people carving into me, telling me I'm bad because of something I'm not, something I wasn't built to be.

Making it out, in perfect pink, with perfect smiles, in simulated snowfalls, with GAP outfits and gapless teeth, snow-white skin and eyes and smiles in the faces of vapid, snow-white minds, somehow, because I'm NOT so ignorantly pure, NOT so innocently retarded, NOT so artifically resplendant, it's ME that's fucking wrong, it's ME that doesn't fit into this world, LOOK, they're having fun! They're playing, they're smiling, they're laughing, they're NOT FUCKING REAL, THEY ARE NOT FUCKING REAL, THESE FUCKING CREATURES DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST IN THE EXTREMES OF REALITY, THEY ARE INVENTED.

When these things intrude, persistently irritate, jab, snare, jostle and stab at me, when I was just getting by with life, thanks, that's when I want to rape something "pretty". That's when I want to smudge some fucking makeup. That's when I declare genocide on the Beautiful People.

That's when I wake up, having looked in the mirror and thought "jeeeeezus. yeah, ok. coffee, shave, jacket, let's go." and am reduced to loathing, hatred, tears, insufficient, painful, dreadful fucking digust at myself. Before lunch. Because I open my eyes and read, and listen and watch. And I'm told.

I seethe and bristle because I'm surrounded by shouting, screaming liars, written high and proud, crowing that I AM NOT GOOD ENOUGH, I AM UGLY, I AM WRONG.

Well, fuck that. YOU are wrong, see?

I might be uglier. I might reek of sweat and fear and linen, not Issey Miyake and feral confidence. I might not buy X, shop at Y or club at Z.

But history will view me as acceptible.

I might be hated now, but I'll be remembered well.

Because I will cut the throats of XY and Z. I will drown the pretty. I will rape the privileged.

I will never again feel uncomfortable within my skin and my mind, just because of the burning, searing attack of your presence on my skin.

Never again.

I'll turn the sun cold.

I'll put out the stars.

Kill your mother in a pit of dogs, tearing, spitting, bleeding and coming.

Bury your love in hate and shit and vomit.

Wait for your friends in the dark with a smile full of someone else's teeth and a bat full of nails.

Nobody is so special they won't look special in a fountain of blood and bile.

When I have cut you all down, there will be noone to feel inferior to.

Let me show you the way. It's a game that we play. Oh, every day. So easy.

lose

We are the losing class
Idolaters and Iconoclasts
Amateur enthusiasts
Bloody knees and skin grafts

We are the losing kind
Lost ourselves and lost our minds
Desolate and anodyne
but otherwise we're doing fine

You fuck me 'cos I work too hard
and you fuck me 'cos I move so fast
You fuck me 'cos I fall apart

You fuck me 'cos I'm working class.

--losing class

argh.

my head is full of My Little Ponies.

being fisted.

by Luther Vandross.

in the Millenium Falcon.

Argh.

link me up, before you go-go...

A man has been charged in connection with hoax e-mails which were sent to relatives of people missing following the Asian tsunami - basically, saying people were dead. What a cunt.

the Llama Song

Itunes: 79p/track, Media Club: 5p/track

fursecution - hurrah!

jwz and his GIANT HEADS

ginmar invents term "Foxicans"

deviantsaint wants money for guns

and I want one of these. 's got lasers!

Lee o' Chaos

Mister Lee's been writing again:

Libido Crush - Temp0rary

Bright Morning - Temp0rary

For Amy - Temp0rary

and he's set up Temp0rary, though it currently links to one of those tracks.

Just what the doctor ordered :D

[LJ2ME] glasgae!

touched down in glasgow ten minutes ago... it's windy and people don't understand my accent :) hurrah!