All content © 2008 FUN Magazine. The views expressed by the contributors are probably shared by the publisher but not in any sense that might be perceived as legally binding. Reproduction of content is forbidden without express permission of the publishers. Please send all contributions & abuse to: hiya@greatenjoyment.com FUN1 Credits Editor: Ben Freeman Design: Deano Jo, Missy Flynn & Ben Freeman Editorial: Missy Flynn, Ben Freeman & Deano Jo Publisher: Real Gold Contributors: Ronojoy Dam, Ian Svenonius, Isabel Rock, various unsuspecting perverts Special thanks: Eva Kellenberger Cover model: James Brant www.greatenjoyment.comChristian Porn! By Ian F Svenonius Listening to music. It's something that many lay-abouts indulge in on a nearly daily basis. Oftentimes, the act is accompanied by senseless head nodding. Sometimes, to show his or her enthusiasm, the listener even stomps wildly around a room or gesticulates with arms akimbo, making strange, contorted facial expressions. People everywhere expend much energy doing this sort of thing, despite the act having no discernible production component. There have been attempts, of course, to tie music listeners – particularly dancers – to machines so as to get some use out of their useless gyrations. Sadly, nothing has come of this. It's interesting that while work is often made tolerable by singing, listening or dancing to music (such as with roadside prison chain gangs), singing, listening, and dancing is never made tolerable by working. This is because, while listening to music is irresistible, there is something about it that makes it seem intrinsically "bad," transgressive or wrong to do. This is because listening to music is an act that is not only irrational but also shamelessly sensual. The reformation movement Christians (i.e. Calvinists) who colonised North America certainly thought so. To the old Protestant Church, music was a sinful, disgusting and animalistic impulse, and those who listened to it, and particularly those caught dancing to it, were condemned as depraved heathens. In fact, listening to music was essentially like masturbating, which of course means that music was, in a pre-pornographic age, "porn". Its probable that only the emergence of mainstream pornography, with magazines like Playboy, led music to be viewed as a less egregious sin than it formerly had been. Indeed, along with the rise of print mediums proliferating actual pornography, Christian attitudes about music became less severe. While in 17th century Salem, Massachusetts all music was degenerate, by the twentieth century only secular and "vulgar" (i.e. popular) music forms were being condemned. Soon after it was only jazz, then just rock 'n' roll music, and finally only deviant subsets of rock 'n' roll, such as Heavy Metal or Punk Rock that were considered an affront to God. The Church eventually lost its struggle against music entirely and now must tolerate and even sometimes sponsor it. Christian churches often feature singing, and devotion to a vaguely Christian rock band (e.g. U2, Sufjan Stevens) is a typical feature of modern man's trembling piety. Christians finally came to terms with the fact that instead of competing with something more compelling than their own religion, they had to embrace it, appropriate it, and claim it as their own (as they did centuries earlier with snacks in church, resulting in the "communion wafer"). As with every Ministerial policy, some functionary found some inscrutable nonsense in the bible, which redeemed the Church's new, accepting attitude toward music. Now that the old world's pornography–music–has been rehabilitated, will the same thing occur with actual pornography? Though this seems like an outrageous question at first, the idea of Christian porn isn't necessarily so far off. Just as rock 'n' roll, which was once decried as the very handiwork of Satan, is now actively sponsored by the Church, pornography's trajectory will likely follow the same arc. Certainly, the faith's congregate, which is disproportionately made up of low income (poor) people, are the same demographic that typically produces pornography's superstars. Eventually the Church must come to terms with the talent and potential revenue that lies dormant and unexploited in their flock. Christians have overcome theological scruples in the past, even regarding God's most forbidden "deadly sins" such as murder, having voted overwhelmingly for born again George W Bush. They've overcome their problems with greed and avarice, as exemplified by their support for imperial policies which enrich one class of people at the expense of others, and they mail their hard earned dollars to Israel at the exhortation of their preachers, even though the Israelis do not "love their neighbors," but instead are exterminating them. Christians have wrestled with and overcome problematic inconsistencies over and over again in fact, so why not with pornography, which isn't even mentioned, let alone denounced, in the Holy Bible? Outrageous pornographic scenarios actually seem, like the modern crypto-pagan festival Mardis Gras, to echo orgiastic pre-Christian rituals like Saturnalia, which were a regular feature of Ancient life. "Religious" festivals like Mardis Gras are of course dressed up to be Christian but their ribald nature is akin to the displays of the ancient world, when mores regarding sexual displays were pronouncedly more liberal. Tales abound for example of Celtic kings demonstrating their virility to their court by publicly copulating with a white stallion, before the Judeo-Christians made everyone hide their genitals.The Christian Church, to establish hegemony over diverse tribes (who had exciting pantheons and stories) with their lame "Jehovah", famously had to co-opt such pagan rituals (e.g. Samhain, Winter solstice, Imbolc, et al) and brand them as Christian, similar to what they have attempted with rock 'n' roll in recent years. Pornography is certainly the next phenomenon to get this tried and true Christian re-branding. Pornography after all, much more effectively than rock 'n' roll, serves to reinforce church ideology. For example, the women in pornography are typically degraded. Obviously this adheres to well-documented Christian misogyny but also recalls that creed's famous tradition of self-flagellation (hair shirts, corporal mortification etc.). Female porn stars don't experience pleasure per se but are rather punished and enslaved, in 'rapture' at the magnificence of the pictured penis. If there is any pleasure it is just to assure this member of its mesmeric power. While the conceit of modern pornography is that the male viewer is imagining the pornographic phallus as his own, this is not actually the case. The viewer is also in awe of the virility of this ultimate cock, and the subjugated porn star's moaning is voicing the viewer's amazement. The disembodied genital, which they mutually worship, therefore represents God. The man behind it is anonymous. Like God himself he is nameless, faceless, all-powerful, kind, cruel, relentless, and without remorse. While pornography seems to abjectly hate women (and often does), the woman is also the protagonist. The suffering she experiences, the viewer unconsciously identifies with. The girl in porn is therefore not only suffering the arbitrary cruelty of the penis (God) but she is simultaneously the Christ. Her humiliations, which are ritualistic and systematic, are the Stations of the Cross and the ejaculation that releases her is her ascension from the physical travails of the world. Porn is also, like religion, anti-intellectual, is patriarchal, often humiliates women, has an elitist or outsider self image, and is aesthetically garish. In fact, the graphics of a pornographic videotape and a modern evangelical brochure are almost indistinguishable. Most importantly though, pornography is not gay pornography. Its important for Christians to sponsor porn because, with so many evangelical ministers and Catholic priests being revealed as homosexual, a Christian hardcore XXX production house will say definitively to the world: "We are not gay." The future is certain. For the savvy investor, Christian porn is the industry of tomorrow. Anal Sexxx /orhan1979 ‘hiiiiiiiiii haw are you? am türkey. WHITE YOU, MEET, WANT, orhan_nergiz@hotmail.com am msn adress store please’ /192000619 ‘IF YOUR SINGLE THEN THEIR IS A GOD...............BUT THEN AGAIN YOU WOULD BE HIS GODDESS HUNH?’ /gustavosilva5 ‘LETS HAVE ANAL SEX ILL PUT MY TRAIN INTO YOUR HOLE AND HAVE A GREAT DAY’ /boobystl ‘i dont care if this ass is your, i would still like to fuck you in the ass......i dont even care what you look like. if you are hot......all the better, if not, oh well.....’ /maybeadombutreallyasub ‘i hope you would take a minute of your time to add me to yoru friends list, anal sex is my one single favourite thing to do, in your ass in my ass whatever i am up for it all...as long as its with a woman, i am at your mercy’ /rugbydahmer 'are you in the military? just wondering' /masterdaddy6977 ‘mmmmmm, DaDDy likes......’ /loves_anal_sex69 'If you don't want kids u will take in the ass by an 8 in cock' Editorial Hey there! We at Fun magazine think that dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur. We sincerely hope that you blah blah blah fucking whatever [pushes tongue into bottom lip]: Bye bye!! Falun Gong You will probably be hearing a lot about Falun Gong in the next few months. It’s a spiritual system that builds on traditional 'Qigong' practices, is free to take part in and has no solid structure. Practitioners download instructions from the web and get stuck in. Imagine Buddhism with added talk of extra terrestrials and anti-gay sentiments and you’re getting there. Falun Gong was introduced in China by Li Hongzhi in 1992 but was designated an ‘evil cult’ by the Chinese authorities in 1999. Since then, Amnesty has estimated that casualties of brutal torture number up to 1000 whilst unofficial estimates are way into the tens of thousands. This is comparable to the Tiananmen Square Massacre in 1989, which provoked international condemnation. The Chinese authorities might be rampantly torturing these people to death in their thousands and harvesting their organs, whilst not busy shooting protesters in Tibet, but don’t let that stop you from supporting the Olympic games, you heartless prick. China is now a 'valuable part of the global economy'. Hang on; my laptop was assembled in China … Whatever, you know what I mean. We met up with Peter Jauhal, the representative of Falun Gong in the UK and Europe: What is Falun Gong all about? The gross body is like our physical side, so you can exercise it by doing weights or running. The subtle body is based around our feelings and emotions, that’s where the Qigong exercise works. It’s based on energy channels in the body, which you can’t physically see. Then there’s something called the causal body, which is below that, where you’re at one with the whole world. So there are three sets of bodies and Falun Gong works on the middle bit which is the subtle body. It’s an exercise and meditation system. It’s got religious aspects but on the other hand there are no churches or anything. You can worship anywhere. You can download the documents from the internet or if you wanted you could go and join a group. I was the first person to practice Falun Gong in the UK; I just downloaded it and started practicing. Have you ever got into trouble with anyone over your swastika logo? I remember when we used to go to Mind, Body, Health exhibitions we didn’t used to show it because you end up spending half your time talking about that. It’s boring. I guess we can’t really use that logo in Germany. People are dumb. Are you a vegan? You don’t have to be vegan. You can eat whatever you like. I went through a phase of being repulsed by meat but I eat it now. Our way of thinking about it is that when you start off, you just care about yourself. Then you develop to caring about your family, then your friends, then the people you work with. After that, maybe it would be the people in your town, your county and then the world. Then it might not just be people; it might be anything that’s alive, anything that exists. So you experience different levels. If you see every living thing as being equal, why is it ok to eat meat? Organisms have different levels of complexity. Even a plant has feelings, so that line of thinking would mean you shouldn’t eat anything. What we say is don’t take it to ridiculous extremes but just be aware that there are other sentient beings and try to cause the least amount of suffering possible. I heard one person say she would only eat things that she was prepared to kill, so she eats fish because she’d be willing to kill a fish, but not a chicken.I’ve heard THAT one before. What level of development would you say that you were at? Probably somewhere in the middle. It’s called unity consciousness. At the highest level I would think of you as being part of me. We’re that close and I really care about you, and all that stuff. There wouldn’t be any feeling of separation. If I ask where the end of the sun is, is it where you see it? Or is it where the rays go out to? The way the brain works is by splitting everything up. What we’re trying to do is get the mind to be quiet. If the mind is quiet, you see reality. Subjects, objects, verbs; really it’s all one thing, but language is splitting it up. That’s the nature of language. It’s a creation of the mind, but the ultimate truth would be beyond language. Most people just care about themselves but if you’re at highest level of consciousness, you care about the whole world and everything in it. That can be quite painful, because you still have to live with people on other levels and they can hurt you. But when they hurt you, you can understand that; at their level, that’s the best they can do. So the higher the level you are at, the more painful it gets. What was your background before you got interested in Falun Gong? I was brought up as a Sikh, which was useful because my father used to meditate a lot so I never thought of meditation as being weird, whereas I might have done if I had come from a Christian background. The 'Falun' is a wheel in your stomach. Explain please.There’s a lot of mystical stuff in this, which I don’t think is necessary to explain Falun Gong, but Master Li was trying to appeal to lots of people. The Chinese people he wrote it for were pretty simple, agricultural society types and they have a mystical way of talking. They believe in spirits and stuff, and a lot of it was written for that audience. It wasn’t written for people like me who have been to university so there’s a lot of stuff about the Falun and supernatural powers, which to me is not important to achieve anything. It’s not why I practice Falun Gong. Now, when I read Falun Gong books, my understanding is totally different to how it was when I started. I was really impressed with all the stuff about the Falun and mystical powers: Fantastic! Does that apply to all the stuff about extra terrestrials and demons? [Sighs] Yes. At the highest level, I don’t think any of that matters. At the highest level you’re at one with everything. Give a shit! But at the subtle body level there probably are concepts like that. There probably is extra terrestrial life and Master Li has talked about it in some of his lectures but I think it has been taken out of context. What’s the situation in China right now?Persecution is still carrying on; it’s pretty bad. You may have read about the alleged organ harvesting. It’s an allegation because it’s very hard to get proof in each case. The verified death toll is 3-4000 but it’s probably much higher than that. I would say about 50,000 but I don’t think we’ll ever know, because you can’t go and investigate, unless you want to go and be really brave.I’ll be alright thanks. How do you feel about the aesthetic that’s being created? Falun Gong is very new but every time the name is mentioned, it’s associated with pictures of torture and death. The reason we show it is because no one else will. If we don’t, it won’t be known. Ideally we wouldn’t have to show such imagery. The theory about Falun Gong is that if you suffer, that’s actually a good thing because you’re paying off your Karma. From a theoretical point of view you shouldn’t try to avoid suffering. You should welcome it because you’re getting rid of your Karma. That’s the spiritual point of view on it but I don’t really think we should encourage people to torture each other. It’s a bit like Christians with Christ and the crucifix I suppose. Is that why there are drawings of Falun Gong smiling ecstatically whilst being tortured? The Indian saint Rama Krishna, who was a really enlightened being, had throat cancer and when his disciples asked him “How bad is the pain?” he said “Appalling,” with a big smile on his face. He was so enlightened that he could detach himself from his body. His body was here and he was out there, viewing his body as something separate. He was truly happy. That’s how we would like to see our practitioners who are being tortured. Like saints, I guess, suffering for their beliefs. Why did China go from approving of Falun Gong, overnight, to designating it an ‘evil cult’? Well this happened with trade unionists and Tibetans. I think it’s just communism. Falun Gong is popular; they can’t control it. Communism is anti religious, or anti spiritual. A lot of the language used by Falun Gong is very mystical whereas the communists like to talk in a very rational way. The Chinese government feels threatened by Falun Gong. How would you respond to allegations that Falun Gong is a cult? I think that there are some cultish tendencies. Some people don’t get the idea that there are different levels to Falun Gong. They might say we all have to think in a certain way and then you are into cult territory. If you are in a group run by people like that, that is a cult. Having said that, there’s no membership list, you don’t have to give up all your life savings, you can walk in and out and no one’s going to follow you down the street and say you can’t leave. It tends to be the younger people who have an immature view. They read the books for a while and think ‘Oh wow, this is the truth and the way I think about it is perfect, and the way anyone else thinks about it is wrong’, they just don’t realise that there is more than one version of the truth. I read a report that in San Francisco someone organised a demonstration to support Falun Gong. Someone pointed out the teachings on gays and the demo was cancelled. Is Falun Gong homophobic? There is quite a strong moral element in Falun Gong. I guess it is homophobic in that it believes men and women should be married, no sex before marriage, that sort of thing. It doesn’t mean that homosexuals can’t practice Falun Gong, but according to the system they should give it up as soon as they can. I’m probably being too black and white. What it says is that there are good things and there are bad things, and if you can you should stop doing the bad things as soon as possible. But I know Falun Gong practitioners who still smoke! There is a strong moral element. But if you go to a higher level, that all drops away. If you’re in unity consciousness, what does it matter? Kids these days are pretty cynical. How would you get them to try Falun Gong? Being cynical is very good from an enlightenment point of view. If you were really cynical, you would question if you really exist. And if you get to that stage then you’re enlightened. Do you really exist? Cynicism is a great thing for spiritual cultivation. How To... Power Electronics is this sort of unlistenable music that boys invented so they could sneer at you for not understanding it, even though they never really listen to it themselves. You would maybe like it if you were mentally retarded or on a lot of drugs. Here is our guide to making it big as a Power Electronics superstar:Choose a really, really aggressive name, preferably involving wolves, death, biblical demons or forms of mutilation. Here are some suggestions: WolfFucker, Deathz0ne, Babyrape, JEZEBELSKUM666, RabbiBeater. You must pick a selection of taboo subjects to address from the following list: Satanism, right wing politics, serial killers, incest, suicide, coprophilia, AIDS. These subjects will later be used to disguise the fact that you are a spoilt cunt with a laptop and amiable middle class parents. Back up your 'political position' by spewing out other people’s opinions wot you read on the internet. Under no circumstances are you to have an original thought. Never allow a photograph of yourself to be seen in public. Your call for the systematic destruction of gays or blacks will be taken a lot less seriously when people see your pentagram choker and chubby little cheeks. Block out that nagging voice which keeps telling you that Whitehouse and Merzbow were doing this shit in the 80s and they were way more interesting anyway. Write a bitter little blog blaming faceless corporations for your limited success in the music world without ever stopping to think that perhaps what you are doing is simply not good. Nothing will impede your success more than your stunning mediocrity. Take yourself way too seriously. Any sign of self-deprecation or humour will kill your career instantly. Making the 'music' is easy. Tune an old radio to some long wave static, record it and then slap a sample of some David Duke speech over it with a distortion filter. Throw in a couple of Sieg Heils and the soundtrack of a snuff film. Play it back through a used tampon. Job done. Put out limited edition releases on eight track cassettes wrapped in shitty photocopies of rotting aborted harp seal foetuses or something. Producing more than 30 copies will be a sure sign that you have sold out. Sell them through your wack blog. Get your buddies to say how great you are because no one else will. If anyone has heard of you, you have failed. Letters Dear Mister Andy Duncan You don’t know me but I know you. You ARE NOT the cool uncle of the television family. Cool uncles tell you the family secrets, good pick-up lines or how to smoke cigarettes. You are the shit-head brother in law of the family, who everyone wishes would shut up and die, a real light-weight drinker who’d probably be alright if he wasn’t such a raging tiny-dicked freak who blatantly hit your sister on holiday last year. I saw the bruises and the story didn’t add up DUDE. Hey, Channel 4-brother-in-law, nobody really cares about your idiotic documentaries about ‘The Boy Who Grew A Jacket Out Of His Eye’ or whatever lack-lustre, gimmicky cack you throw at the general public. If there is an American sitcom being written somewhere and aimed at sexually inactive men and ugly girls, you have already bought the rights to it, arranged for that northern monkey to voice the advert and planned the Christmas box set. Do you think I want to see crappy indie bands and slightly hip pop music that your 40 year old Double-Barrel named music programmer wants me to watch when I’m hung over, just because some PR team bought her lunch and a fancy dildo? NO! That’s the answer to that question. I don’t even know what I’m talking about. I’m going to go watch Friends now, Bye bye Justin Credible X Dear [INSERT WOMANS MAGAZINE NAME HERE]I have a great idea for a fashion story. Picture the scene: We’re in Darfur, the Janjaweed militia galloping in the distance, silhouetted against a setting sun. [INSERT CURRENT BLACK MODEL’S NAME HERE] is cradling an AIDS riddled orphan in her delicately manicured hands. We could dress her and the kid up in some clobber and get [INSERT CURRENT PHOTOGRAPHER’S NAME HERE] to shoot it. Obviously there would be more scenes but I’m kind of stuck on this one. I think it has some promise though, don’t you? The concept of this is that we are playing with the reader’s perception of ethics via a culturally deconstructive crystallisation, a point in time where transcontinental semiotic readings belie the moral code of the western observer. Your readers are pretty smart so I’m sure they’ll get that.Let me know what you think!Best wishesTwix Wickham, BA (Hons)Dear B&Q I am writing to congratulate you for your new standards of customer service. On my last visit to your Leyton branch, I was awestruck by the willingness of the pert young gentleman to realise my every desire. After he had extended his exotically coloured hand to me (metaphorically, he didn’t touch me), we weaved through the sparkling aisles as he contorted his services in ways hither-to unimaginable. Over and over again he fulfilled my whims and fancies until, breathless, I reached the counter. As I clung to it, red faced and heart racing, all memories of the bad old days were extolled from my memory. If I may be permitted to make one further request: Could I have a white one next time?Yours eternally, Terrence Towels Thanks For Nothing I used to be close friends with this guy when I was about 15. We both sung in total white-belted, floppy-haired metalcore bands that were only popular with chubby Betty-Page-a-like girls. Over the years we lost touch, until last week when we got the opportunity to catch up. He was just as metro-sexual as ever. I told my old friend, who we shall call Johnny Labrador, what I was up to in my life; setting up FUN magazine and looking for subjects to write about. He listened, and evidently so did God. The heavens opened and the angels sang; Johnny told me how, since we’d last met, he had got really into hairdressing, house music and [drum roll]: Dogging. Surely fertile ground for some sort of revelatory exposé. I know public sexual acts are nothing new or clever, but I always had this really romantic idea of bored, hot, sexually deprived housewives engaging in passionate, forbidden love in car-parks across the nation. Actually it’s just a load of ugly, lonely strangers. Most of them are middle aged or older, middle class and driving respectable cars. Ever wondered who buys that Renault Picasso thing? Doggers do. All those fit girls you see on dogging websites? East European prostitutes. They're being paid for it: Movie magic. Johnny told me about how he and his friends went for a dogging session last summer. They turned up at a location, which they found on the internet, to find ten men standing around a car, all with their hands in their pants. As they got closer, they could see that the men were jacking off over one woman being banged by a scrawny guy in a car whilst sucking off a pensioner. They wanted to laugh but had to hold off because there was an intimidatingly obese man next to them, heavy breathing and staring. One of the lads got talking to the big guy and he explained how the woman went down there every week to fuck a load of different men. Predictably, it turned out to be his wife. That's love. "If you're new to it, lads, just have a go!" said the tubby wife sharer. Johnny's friend dropped his pants and let her fiddle with his winkie. It seemed like the polite thing to do. I guess what I'm saying is that you (yes you!) can be a normal guy and go and fuck anonymous weirdoes in odd locations if you want to. The gays seem to do it pretty well, why not us heteros? Well maybe because girls have 'feelings'. You could always try and drag your girlfriend into in your naive fantasy world; Johnny did. He took her along to a dogging meet once; some rotten old man leant against their car and started whacking off. She screamed and they drove off. End of fantasy. That was in Watford. Maybe there are better ones. Maybe there’s some kind of dogging Valhalla where all the girls are fit, hardly any men turn up and the ones that do always have a much smaller cock than you. That’s what I’m going to tell myself anyway. We don't like you The music establishment continues to wax nostalgic about how things once were, fooling themselves into believing it’s going to last forever. It’s not. The latter half of the 20th century saw spectacular success and excess for the music business; beginning with the Beatles and Dylan, the money multiplied by the minute. The expanding of adolescent purchase power, the birth of rock, the radio and society’s changing landscape saw the business of music reach heady heights. And they became intoxicated on their own success. They created top-heavy organizations, dedicated superstores to shifting their product, smugly grinned at MTV and at their extraordinarily high profit margins. It was a well-oiled system. Why did it deserve to last forever?If you were an artist or band trying to break out in 1974, 1984 or 1994, you didn’t have a lot of choice. And since you didn’t have a lot of choice, guess who had a lot of power? A few companies. The music business loved its plastic production line. Cheap to make. Sold at a high margin. Can’t be copied. Gets worn out. Needs to be replaced. A clean cycle. But digital has changed all that, and with it so does the maths. It used to be if I gave you my record, I didn’t have my record anymore. Now if I give you my record, I still have my record. Copy protection in a digital age is a blinkered fallacy. If a record becomes digital (which it inevitably will), expect it to be copied. There’s a paradox in the music business between the desire for access and digital distribution devaluing the core asset of a record. But suing individuals for piracy is like going to civil war with the very people who pay your bills. Ghostface Killah recently released a YouTube plea bemoaning the fact that his however-many thousand MySpace friends weren’t buying his latest record. It was funny, and pitiful. But easy accessibility hasn’t eaten at the established value of an artist’s record, just altered it. Where once the sale was just the record, it’s now interactivity and physical artefact. And interaction can’t be copied. As thrash metal band Anthrax put it, “Our album is the menu. The concert is the meal.” Labels are still clinging onto the dream of manufacturing CDs with a 90% gross margin. The Grateful Dead are an interesting paradigm here. They never made a life out of selling records compared to what they achieved doing everything else and getting blasted. They represented a sub-culture, an attitude and a community. When Jerry Garcia snuffed it, people didn’t care about all the hours of music that were left behind for them to listen to. They missed a place they could go to for people like them. It’s never just a record. It’s a movement. It’s a point in time. It’s the soundtrack to loving and hating, a genesis of sweat and art. It should never be “making records that cost money to listen to.” DIY’s cultural resonance and political stance is obsolete. Its current incarnation of relevance resides not in a manufactured style or mode, but in an egalitarian production process; the concept of independent production is not new, the extent and availability is. We live in an age when it’s cheaper than ever to design something, to make something, to bring something to a market. All you need is instinct and passion. Individuals will always count. ORG-2, released in 1978 on the Buzzcocks’ Pete Shelley’s New Hormones label, wasn’t even a record but a booklet of collages. As their manager, Richard Boon, put it, “The title The Secret Public was all about that other side of the DIY thing – trying to locate kindred spirits who would ‘get it’ and respond.” Half of Amazon sales are products that are unavailable in national chain stores. Half of iTunes sales are titles that you couldn’t buy on any high street. When you give people an infinite number of choices in any genre, two things happen: They search extensively for what’s exactly right for them, and sales go up. Music is born from the human. The winners in the music business of tomorrow are the artists, individuals and groups that create communities, spread ideas and act as the centre of a social group. As Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon wrote in a 1983 essay for Artforum, “People pay to see others believe in themselves. As a performer you sacrifice yourself, you go through the motions and emotions of sexuality for all the people who pay to see it, to believe that it exists.” While the record may be receding as sound piece, its future as artefact will persist, as will any physical and tangible embodiment of the relationship between artist and listener. What the music business fails to recognise is that people don’t listen to companies. They listen to music. The potential rests in curating the dynamic between artist and audience. There is an infinite amount of music people like. The bands you fall in love with, the bands that change your life to, aren’t the bands you like. They are the bands you love. Nobody will ever go out of their way for music they like. There is too much music that is liked. The future will not tolerate like. Voice to Skull “the MI5 Horrorfags are talking in quiet voices, the way paedophiles talk to children. It is continuous abuse.” Tadeusz Szocik is one of the most famous irritants on the whole internet. He shot to fame in the mid '90s thanks to his innovative use of spamming techniques to tell people about his alleged persecution by MI5 under the Usenet name ‘Mike Corley’. Szocik had the foresight to buy www.mi5.com, which he owns to this day. He is also a wildly delusional, paranoid, schizophrenic and obsessive compulsive. He has at various times been prescribed Zopiclone, Seroquel, Olanzapine, Amisulpride, Clonazepam and Lexapro, most of which are heavy duty mental illness drugs. Although he is fully aware of his mental health issues, he insists that he has evidence of his persecution by MI5. You can hear the ‘evidence’ on his enormous site, most of which consists of very vague sound clips which he insists are people shouting abuse at him. Szocik advertises in Private Eye, has had an opera written about his life and has been the subject of various works of art, theories and speculation. Some say that he is a hoaxer or a fictional character created by psychiatry students. I can assure you: He isn’t. Tadeusz Szocik is a real person. I met him. Until now, no one had bothered; the artists and musicians just cherry picked convenient tit-bits from his considerable online resource. Some would say that's fair game after the amount of spamming he's done. Szocik replied to my email and we arranged to meet in the Leicester Square branch of Yates Wine Lodge. He feels safe in Yates, as well as Starbucks and Cafe Nero. Despite his paranoia concerning the security services he seemed fairly fearless about meeting me. He turned up almost two hours late after calling me twice from a withheld number, well spoken and apologetic. He delayed our meeting so he could have a bath. I sat waiting in the park facing the bar where we agreed to meet, constantly watching for a man wearing a white Timberland jacket. It was like some sort of spy movie blind date; I played that game of catching every man’s eye, imagining him to be Szocik. When he eventually appeared, he wasn’t too far from my pre-conception; maybe a few years younger and skinnier than I expected. He approached me and we shook hands. I noticed straight away that he was trembling and found it hard to make eye contact. He was wearing unremarkable clothing and had delicate hands with vague traces of white deposits around the fingernails. He wore glasses and was softly spoken with a strong Polish accent. I bought him a pint of Guinness and we sat in a secluded booth. After I had thanked him for meeting with me, he started talking about mind control. He told me how it all began in June 1990 when he was studying an MSc in computer science at Imperial, a year after leaving Cambridge; The TV in his room came alive and went crazy, sparking a belief that MI5 were talking to him directly through newsreaders. Szocik has a theory as to why he is being targeted for mind control, although I promised him that I would not go in to specifics. He claims that there are two types of mind control; one that can be recorded as and when people shout, speak or whisper to him and another, which is directly administered to his brain via microwave technology. It usually lasts between one and two hours and happens in the evening, so he combats it by knocking back Valium and going to sleep.Szocik lives in Balham, London with his Polish mother. She had a kidney operation recently and they support each other although he avoids mentioning mind control, as he knows it will upset her. He has been on disability benefit for around ten years. Prior to this he worked as a computer programmer in Canada where he sometimes returns to escape the voices. He has written a piece of software called Miracle C Compiler, whatever that is. If you know what a C Compiler is, you should check it out. He's quite proud of it. There are support groups for pretty much everything these days, and mind control is no exception. Two gentlemen, John Allman and Andrew Grant, contacted Szocik and invited him to attend a mind control meeting recently. John Allman, an active member of an evangelist church, is convinced that mind control is the product of a technology that he refers to as V2K, Voice to Skull, or synthetic telepathy technology. Allman has a public debate going on with the Hearing Voices Network support group on the Mental Health Forum website, angry that they will not give him a platform to preach his theories on mind control at their conferences for schizophrenics. They call themselves TIs, or Targeted Individuals.Whenever I asked Szocik how he felt about the mind control, the disruption of his life or the use of his issues as topics for cultural events he denied being angry. There was rarely a flicker of emotion and he kept steering the conversation back to his theories about MI5. His gentle nature didn’t stop him from buying two handguns when he was living in LA following an incident that he describes as an assassination attempt: Americans shouting death threats at him from the ground floor of his hotel whilst he was in a 9th floor room. The Glock 17 and Colt 45 that he subsequently bought are currently in storage in the US and he doesn’t carry weapons in England because that’s illegal. It would be pretty convenient for me to play into Szocik’s delusions for the purposes of this article, to maybe rhetorically ask if he is really mad, or whether there might be some truth in his allegations. A week after I last met Szocik I wrote to him and explained that I was not convinced that mind control existed. I explained that I thought it unlikely that MI5 would choose a registered schizophrenic to test their new brain weapon, and that I would not publish an article which supported his theories. He very politely replied that he felt that the article would be biased, and referred me to the evidence on his website. I would simply hate to be accused of bias, so make up your own mind. It pisses me off a bit that lawyers, sound experts and magical microwave hat manufacturers have taken his money but more importantly, the whole episode seems to be an unusually thorough documentary of mental illness. A hundred years ago, Szocik might have been hearing the devil and would have been believed by credulous zealots. These days it's all about the mind control. Tadeusz Szocik kindly produced an exclusive series of photographs documenting his day-to-day life for us. You can see them at www.greatenjoyment.com. “If Suicide’s the Answer... What’s the Question??” Chrissy: “What’s the best way to kill yourself?” FUN: “Ha ha. You are funny. Can you mime your preferred method of suicide?” Chrissy: “Hanging: a classic.” Jaimie: “Do you want to answer a question for my zine?” FUN: “Fuck you. How are ugly kids like you topping themselves these days?” Jaimie: “A really blunt knife. Maybe that’s more of a cry for help.” Tallulah: “Do you fancy going out in Shoreditch?” FUN: “We’re in Shoreditch. You are a hypocritical twat.”Tallulah: “Oh yeah. I would kick myself to death. It’s harder than it looks! ”Russ: “What kind of music are you into?”FUN: “That’s just weird.” Russ: “Now watch me blow my brains all over the fucking sidewalk.” Andrew: “Is life worth living?” FUN: “That’s a pretty defeatist attitude Andrew. How are you going out?” Andrew: “I already stuck my fingers in a plug. It didn’t work but I got this sick hair.” Salim: “Why do it? Why are you so unhappy?” FUN: “That’s very sweet but it’s not what we asked. Can you mime your favourite suicide method for us?” Salim: “Why would I want to do that? Can I go now please?”I wish I loved the human race.I wish I loved its stupid face. I wish I liked the way it walks, I wish I liked the way it talks, And when I’m introduced to one I wish I thought “What jolly fun!” 37 reasons why you suck and we hate you 1. You think that ‘creative’ is a noun 2. You complain about Tescos being everywhere but still shop there 3. You go on idiotic diets that ruin your kidneys when you maybe should just go for a fucking jog and eat less fat 4. You have no idea what you like and rely on other people to tell you 5. Your tedious self-righteousness has done more damage to the environment than all the carbon put together 6. You call yourself an artist but can’t describe what you actually do 7. You refuse to be pigeonholed but can be very easily 8. Your fat belly hangs over your trousers and you wear crop tops 9. You think that fashion is important 10. You haven’t phoned your grandmother for over a month 11. You went to university and squandered what most people would kill for by repeatedly failing to get laid and not doing any work, and don’t see anything wrong with that 12. You think you can sing but you can’t 13. You consciously stockpile long words in your brain 14. You see everything in black and white because your tiny brain can’t manage any form of complexity 15. You are convinced that God does or does not exist, but have absolutely no evidence for either 16. You think that Broadway market is a fun and interesting place to be 17. You spend more on organic food in a week than most people on the planet spend on their children’s education in a lifetime 18. You waste money on cocaine because you’re too much of a pussy to smoke crack 19. You talk about the amazing things you are going to achieve when you are drunk but somehow manage to never achieve ANYTHING 20. You think that marijuana is harmless and fun but you are developing serious clinical psychosis and haven’t had a proper job for almost a year 21. Genetically modified food terrifies you because you think that means it has arms 22. It’s so long since you read a book that you have forgotten how to read 23. When you do read a book you suddenly seem to become an expert on that author and bandy their name around like you are some kind of Oxford don 24. You think that philospohy is anything other than a load of utter french drivel 25. You are a spoilt little shit who lives off your parents 26. You once used the words paradox and juxtapose in the same sentence 27. You think that you have received a broad spectrum of political analysis after reading the Guardian and the Independent 28. You take your children to the pub and then glower at anyone who smokes or swears 29. You use your push-chair to part traffic 30. If you could get away with it, you would fuck all your friends’ partners without a second thought 31. You act like some kind of thug when you’re drunk and surrounded by your drunk friends but inside you are scared and weak 32. You liek mudkipz 33. You see every day as a fresh challenge 34. You think that being poor is interesting 35. You drink pomegranate juice because it stops cancer but you still smoke 36. You live on a houseboat 37. You listen to world music Fuck Heroes Putting faith in something is hard enough already without someone grabbing your sweet, childlike trust and throwing it back in your stupid fat face. Even before you know what your dick is for, you’re warned about all the heartbreak that you will inevitably suffer; so much so that when it does finally arrive it’s pretty much expected. But what still hurts and surprises? Being disappointed by your idols. When someone is in fame’s spotlight you get this romantic idea that it’s their duty to uphold some kind of dignity. I used to put a lot of faith in music. Of course, after a while, all my favorite bands either started putting out shit records, saying retarded things, or I simply grew up and fell out of love with them. I was also totally obsessed with a movie called The Sandlot Kids. It was about American kids being reckless and fun and sporty and insightful and horny, a total dream on celluloid. That film single handedly made me feel unstoppable in my upcoming adult life; the future looked bright. In the days when I was watching that movie there wasn’t an internet to tell me about things that would no-doubt have shattered all my rose-tinted ideas; chiefly that the movie was kind of a joke, and that most of the cast didn’t grow up to be the clean-cut, all American pin-ups with trophy families and nice cars that I was so sure they would. Instead they became overweight goths and mental steroid freaks. They really did. “Just because kids love the movie, it doesn’t make me an idol. I don’t think my small role in that film was significant enough”, explains Shane Obedzinski, aka Tommy ‘Repeat’ Timmons, aka the coolest fucking dude in the movie. “I would feel some responsibility if I was famous or was still acting. Any kids who loved the movie then are my age now, and I highly doubt I could influence them.” Since The Sandlot Kids, Shane has kept himself busy with lots of really awesome things, like over-eating, playing in a nu-metal band and certainly not acting. “I had been offered a handful of roles after the movie came out, nothing too big, but I turned them down. I began playing the drums and now I’m in a band and I never look back. We’ve started to get some small label attention! For now, the future is me seeing if I can do what I want and be successful. The future is wide open.” Shane currently works at a pizza restaurant in Brandon, Florida. Reader: kill yourself now.Watercolour Challenge A lot of you voted for the extreme right wing British National Party in the London Mayoral elections; 2.84% of you to be precise. That’s roughly 1000% more than the Unity for Peace & Socialism party. HA HA HA HA HA HA. We thought we should meet up with Richard Barnbrook to get the lowdown on Keane, trees and the Olympic Games. *Note to our stupid readers: we were just TALKING, before you strap on your jackboots, firebomb a cornershop and start goose-stepping around the place. That’s really the last thing we want. Seriously. Please calm down. How’s City Hall treating you? Decorated your desk yet? Not yet. There are going to be about twenty portraits of historical figures from Florence Nightingale to Brunel to Pitt to Churchill to Bannister to Banks, all the greats of British history are going in there. What about some of those little fluffy trolls? Not my style. I might get a portrait of the girlfriend eventually.You must feel pretty stoked about thrashing the Green Party. Well I didn’t. They came fourth. I came fifth. Oh. That’s one in the eye for fact checking! The Olympic Games: Discuss. I don’t like it. Our party’s view is that the Olympic games originated from Athens in Greece. Give it back. You could have a host nation going in and flying their flag as the key host. I mean why not? Have the English flag flying next to the Greek one; have it paid for by British funds and the Olympic committee. Send the games back to where it belongs. What are we going to do about all these stabbings? It’s a real pickle.It’s abhorrent. Knife and gun crime is going up, especially amongst the young. A 14 or 15-year-old going in to someone’s bedroom and blowing someone away. HELLO! What the fuck’s going on? This isn’t civilised Britain or a civilised world. This is going backwards if Boris is going to adhere to his policies, getting knives off the streets, don’t be soppy soppy, get in there, with a heavy hand, and get knives off the street. I’m doing some work with Winston Mackenzie, the black boxer, getting him to come to city hall and talk about his experiences. We want to get kids boxing. I’m not a boxer, but anything. Get the kids on climbing frames, outdoor pursuits, chess, swimming, anything that keeps their minds active. Get them off the Coca Cola and the fucking drugs.What music are you into? A mixture of classic and what I consider to be independent, what I mean by that is bands going from Keane to Oasis to Blur to New Order, I love New Order and Joy Division. Keane are a brilliant band. I know the BNP commission folk singers to sing songs. Is that integral to your image? I think it is, its going back to tradition, but there are new artists coming on Great White. I would say 60-70% is folk, traditional English, Irish and Scottish music. Some elements have a slight twang of Billy Bragg, but obviously not the same politics! I think folk is part of our heritage, the red white and blue all love that stuff. You also get a bit of cabaret singing coming on. Don’t you see any danger in romanticising the past? Not at all. I think the important thing is to step backwards and see where we came from and where we may have been misguided. Try and go back in the track of our identity and our culture. When did we lose that exactly? I’d say the liberalisation of Britain, late 1800s, and the big push towards colonialisation, Liberalisation was so wishy washy, we became a mummy state looking after other people without having any input on our own people. That wasn’t positive. What do you think about those stickers you see on lamp posts demanding Sharia Law? Simple, it’s not going to happen. No. There’s no debate about it at all. I see. Why do you think socialists cosied up with Islamic fundamentalists? The Islamists probably saw the socialists as the first catalytic points of liberalism. I know the Islamists have made strong statements about our religion, certain sexualities and our culture. How they became bed partners beats me. Islamic fundamentalists over here, be they members of Labour, Lib Dems or Conservatives, once they have authority or power, their… I was going to say final solution!… final GOAL could be to become one party; that we become one party with an Islamic identity. It’s far fetched but it’s not outside the realms of possibility. What about environmentalism? Totally for it. 100%. I started a project with Sting [he’s not lying, I checked] and a load of other big names in 2000 called the Jubilee Woods, to impress and celebrate the history of our Royal Family. The whole idea was trees and animals. You can’t really plant animals… That is true… But you can create animals that represent areas, like the barn owl representing Leeds that has almost died out, been decimated. We get kids planting trees and commission sculptures. Have you lot still got a lot of support from the terraces? No. Gone. Well, not gone but down to 10%. Before the BNP vote was primarily old Labour, now it’s shifting to conservative. In some cases, terrace support has dropped. I’m not a football fan so I’m not familiar with those surroundings but I’d say that rugby and cricket supporters are coming on board with us now. Do you miss it? The metaphor of terrace support, that mentality and that structure, I am happy that those people have changed their mindset or just gone off into the wilderness. What happened to Combat 18? I think they’re pretty much dead. The States still try to pump money into it. Same with the National Front. But saying that, the NF got 11-12,000 votes in Bromley. How that happened is way beyond me. Are you still doing art? I went out a few weeks ago and bought a watercolour easel. I do a watercolour about once a month. I’m just going to go up to the London Lounge, get my box out and do some paintings, probably piss off a lot of people. What’s the deal with the brown suit? Martin Bell, the MP for Tatton, wore a white suit. So I thought that’s interesting, what can I wear? I don’t like black suits. Blue, pink and purple: not my colours. So I thought I would go for a light suit. Simone hates it but it stands out. They can see me a mile away, and that’s the perception. It’s not a bad colour. I got 2 beige suits, a dark brown one, Simone insisted on buying me a slate blue suit, and a black tux for boring events. That’s it. I like your haircut. Eight quid. Short back and sides. Don’t need to pay 50 quid for some poncey hairdo. Have you consciously worked on your image or has it happened naturally? Happened naturally. I don’t like all that spin this, spin that. Fuck off. This is me; I walk through the streets as I am. The way I present myself and the way I talk: A teacher. Talking to thirty fourteen-year-olds or two hundred forty-year-olds: no difference. None whatsoever. Thanks! Artschool Checklist If you go to any student art shows this summer, you will definitely see the following:Photography Installation which involves walking into a little room decorated like a 1950’s sitting room. There is a fireplace and a chair. Surprisingly, all the photographers work are displayed in kitch frames, and hung amongst three flying china ducks. Third world children playing in ethnic clothes/ third world children smiling at camera/ third world children looking hungry.Third world adult selling food in third-world market stall, with strange look of contentment. Suburban English/American people looking depressed/bored/ugly. ILLUSTRATION Moody Kafka inspired pen-ink drawing of person on their own in a box/field. A comic strip in which nothing happens except someone gets depressed. Drawings of Victorian people or 1920’s dancers. An infantile ‘faux-naïve’ drawing by a rich 22 year old girl who wants to be 6 again. A giant illustration that is so busy and devoid of an actual point, that if you draw a penis on it nobody would realise the work had been vandalised. A monkey on a spaceship.GRAPHICS A project involving lots of Post-it notes. A project involving sending out postcards and getting other people to send them back. A projection or photograph of the designer looking serious. A ridiculous poster about Global Warming or Animal Cruelty. This is illegible, largely because the font has been made out of mud. A font that a graphic designer has spent 6 months crafting, and looks identical to one you saw at the same degree show last year.A designer who has written and crafted a very dull book about ‘The meaninglessness of communication,’ mainly because they have nothing to say. ‘Typography is all around you!’ A font made up of every day objects (a knife, a ball of string, a dog etc.) cut and pasted together on Photoshop.A piece of design by an idiot comparing George Bush to a monkey or Hitler.Animation An ‘obscene’ hand-drawn animation involving characters picking their noses, cocks growing out of their heads, fanny’s sprouting from the bogey that come out of nose etc... Any brightly colored ‘abstract’ animation that triggers epilepsy.‘Japanese anime’ inspired work involving children that fly like birds, intertwined, united by love. This whimsical start is concluded by horrific animated violence with chainsaw sounds and screaming Japanese schoolgirls.FINE ART Portrait of a naked woman looking menstrual ‘Untitled.’ A painter who refuses to paint.Installation with an obviously anti-capitalist/anti-American/anti-western message, using dollar-bills to form a) A hole or b) A crucifix. The piece in question has won ‘The .......... prize for innovative thinking.’ The panel of judges are all old Marxists. Their biggest achievement was hanging around Andy Warhol in the 60s and pretending to have autism. Video Installation: Starts by entering a small black box. Sound of baby-screaming make you want to leave immediately.Video of very poor person from shit part of Britain looking miserable.Video of nothing happening over a long period of time (i.e a fence closing, a light flickering on and off). Video about a stripper. FUN 2 Editor: Ben Fr-fr-freeman Published by: Real Gold Editorial: Deano Jo, Ben Freeman Marketing: Missy Flynn Contributors: Miriam HellYeah!, Connie Whistleton-Smythe, Robert Downey Jr., Prunehat Daily, Sapper Williams, Binky Harrison, Eva Skillenberger, Jessica President, Sir Walter Raleigh Cover star: Ana Ospina www.greatenjoyment.com All content © 2008 FUN Magazine. The views expressed by the contributors are right and if you disagree with them you are a dick.Reproduction is awesome Send all contributions & abuse to: hiya@greatenjoyment.comThe FUN office, based in fashionable Shoreditch, is a mecca of style and sophistication. Our bulimic receptionist takes daily deliveries of hundreds upon hundreds of promotional freebies from weary couriers whilst directing top celebrities into the main creative arena. The office is so big that we whip around on micro scooters; our gold plated floor can be slippery!!! LOLZZZZ!!!Daily editorial meetings are like a who’s who of happening in London. Deano and Ben cast their chiseled features over the days press releases whilst Missy Flynn barks orders at terrified interns, pausing only to crack open a Diet Coke and pass the odd insightful comment. Everyone at FUN is a ten, we wouldn’t have it any other way. Fat and ugly people don’t get past security. We’re all about the fashion. And the music. But mostly the fashion, cos that’s where the big ad bucks are at. Your shitty couture doesn’t stand a chance of making it into a FUN shoot without some heavy duty bribery. We don’t need your cash. Major brands are queuing up to suck our collective cocks (while gently fingering Missy). And music? We don’t just love music, we write about it. At length. As we always say at FUN: why review a record in ten words when a thousand will fill a whole frickin DPS, eh?Want to be a FUN intern? Good luck. You’ll need determination and looks to get your foot in our door. We expect our interns to work for upwards of six months without any guarantee of a secure job. Any intern asking for a contract is taken into the back alley and mercilessly beaten. Hey! It will look great on your CV, bitch, and stop your fucking whining. can L.S.D. cure paedophilea? Probably not, but it would be awesome if it could. Regina Versus [not her real name] is a criminal defence lawyer who spends her whole life up to her neck in human effluent. Hi ReggieHi BenSo, what kind of work do you do? I’m a barrister. I defend people accused of serious crimes; I get what I’m given, a steady diet of sex and violence with some other stuff thrown in: drugs, fraud and immigration. Sex and violence is the main thing then. For me.Why? Is there more of that going on? I get sent sex cases because I’m female and not bad looking. That’s the reality True, you are fit. How does that help? I’m not sure it does but there’s a belief among defendants that it psychologically helps to make a defendant charged with a very ugly crime more attractive to a jury if his mouthpiece is easy on the eye and is feminine So you frequently have some vile piece of work sitting behind you dribbling? Ha ha, all the time. Touching himself. A friend of mine once represented a man for rape. He was acquitted of rape and done for assault, which was a remarkable victory for him. She had done the job very well. She went down to the cells to see him in the legal visits room and he started having a wank. Nice. Not to judge you but if it’s your job to defend this person, and you know they are guilty, do you put the same effort in as if... Does it become a matter of personal pride to get them off?Fortunately there is a minimum standard of performance as a barrister. That kind of coincides with this sort of humility line which means you have to understand that your opinion of their guilt is of fuck all use to anyone. It is completely irrelevant. Doesn’t it give you power in the situation, to swing it either way? This might sound like lofty professional narcissism but I would never dip below that level of competence, no matter how hateful I believed my client to be. That said, there is a margin of difference from that point up. Representing someone you believe is innocent is one of the worst experiences a barrister can have. You lose sleep, it ages you, and you have to be very long in the tooth and cynical to not be affected by that. Does it happen a lot? No, not a huge amount; probably a few times a year. The number of people who are acquitted and who ought to be is about right. Acquittal doesn’t incorporate innocence; it incorporates, you know, the grey area. In terms of sex cases what kind of thing do you see? Is there a lot we don’t read about in the media? It’s difficult to say how much people need to know but in particular in terms of the child abuse imagery there doesn’t seem to be any consideration on reporting beyond the initial spectacle. What we are talking about is a gigantic and gigantically lucrative trade that is systematic and organised, and very closely related and connected to legitimate business. By that, I mean the legitimate porn and sex industry. It’s the same people, the same channels of distribution. At the moment it’s massively centered in Eastern Europe and South America. People don’t get to see... I’m not suggesting that they should… Get to see the materials. They don’t get to understand questions like whether it is more horrifying and repugnant, when you have to look at this stuff, to see children who are plainly terrified, or whether it is more horrifying to see children who have normalised it to such an extent that they appear to be having a perfectly alright happy time. You know, when they evidently shouldn’t be. What are we talking, ten? And younger. These are children born into the trade.Do you have to look at it yourself? If I can possibly avoid it I will but occasionally, yes. The police have to look at it and I’m not usually sympathetic to them but I don’t envy that. Why do police who have to look at that stuff end up getting prosecuted for child porn offences themselves? Oh fuck, yeah. It used to be a source of amusement to me that the old definition of obscene material was that it was likely to deprave and corrupt, because it seems to Victorian and paternalistic. Then if you watch that stuff, in particular films of children being abused, raped and tortured, then you know you’ve come away and it has… you try and find a way to describe the impact it has on you and you realise that ‘deprave and corrupt’ is a pretty accurate terminology. I have seen a great many people who start off as users of ‘normal pornography’, and it may be that they are of an addictive personality, they gravitate towards more and more extreme images. You have two kinds of people who use child abuse imagery. There are people who are, if you like, paraphiliacs, who have a pathological interest in the marginal, then you have paedophiles. The people who come along that spectrum are paraphiliacs. They get into more and more extreme imagery. How do you feel about those people? They intrigue and frighten me. You can do one of two things with my work. You can erect a barrier and draw what is a moral distinction between you and the clientele, or you can understand and try then to separate yourself without engaging too much in the process of judgment. I hope I do the latter. Is it easier now for people of a weak disposition, not in control of their morals, to be misguided by the Internet?I think it’s much easier for people to be incidentally, or inadvertently exposed to this stuff, and therefore I think it’s easier for people to normalise it. I don’t think that if you look at images of child abuse you develop an interest in children, but unless you actually have a very effective way of compartmentalising that, or dealing with that, processing that, you’re at risk, I think. It sounds like I am advocating something terribly paternalistic but I am talking about the sexual consumption of footage of sexual offences being committed against people. What’s the answer to this? In terms of law enforcement I think it is always a case of shutting the door after the horse has bolted because the availability of this material is a direct result of pressing global crises and conditions, principally poverty. In much the same way as the massive production of cocaine and heroin being a symptom of the global economic landscape. So what can I do about that as a lawyer? Fuck all. The police do what they can.Are they doing a good job? Yeah. I think they are actually. And I don’t normally say that about them. In terms of identifying people who are using? Yes. In terms of identifying people who are distributing? Yes. Once they have identified people who are using it, your end user if you will, they can be a bit sloppy. Have you defended many paedophiles? My fair share, thanks. There’s definitely a spectrum of dangerousness. And there’s a self-contained taxonomy within the paedophile community (which I just invented by the way). But there is definitely a terminology. For example, a ‘bacon’ has a sexual preference for older pre-pubescent children. You also have slang categories for people who like newborns. Hmm. How do paedophiles get in touch with each other? I once cross-examined an expert who really knew his stuff in terms of internet access to child porn. There is nowhere on the internet where you are more than three clicks away from child abuse imagery. In three clicks you will find child porn.You need to be looking for it though. It’s not just there. You have to make a concerted effort to find it… I’m not asking for tips. You just type teen, schoolgirls, barely legal, then a couple of clicks from that. A site with Driving Miss Daisy will have access to a site that will open the door. How do they learn this terminology? The chatroom thing has been really liberating for paedophiles. There was a case called the Wonderland case, after the name of the site. The requirement for membership was 10,000 new images of child abuse, that none of them already had. You get footage that’s old favourites sort of stuff, so some is indicative of somebody who’s making their first significant contact with that world, right up to Wonderland stuff. So if you find this indicative footage, you know they are scratching the surface? Yep. What are they like?There is always something wrong with their hands. Not one thing in particular, it’s the most Ridiculous old wives tale but they ALWAYS have something wrong with their hands. Always something. Please don’t quote me, that sounds retarded. Always. But they have a really wide range of personalities: almost invariably personable, deferential, respectful. They are very often isolated, lonely, pathetic and mentally ill. Sometimes they are charming and urbane.You know that Gary Glitter / Jonathan King style unbelievable arrogance… I think a large part of them thinks they aren’t doing anything wrong.Absolutely, yes. And almost invariably they perceive themselves to be victims. Almost without exception. Do you think it’s an illness?I don’t know enough about it. I try to stay open minded about it. Just as my work can make its members unspeakably cynical, it can also give you phenomenal cause for hope, and the change I have seen in people after going through the criminal justice or penal system is sometimes incredible. I don’t think money can be wasted on research for therapeutic response to the sexual abuse of children. None of that can possibly be considered a waste. I don’t think chemical castration works. Cutting a thief’s hand off doesn’t stop them being dishonest. Well they wouldn’t be physically abusing children.We will never understand sex or sexuality. It’s too big. It’s vast, dark and unknowable. We aren’t doing ourselves any favours though are we. How would anyone know about treatment? One guy I represented was going along that paraphiliac slide and started going to Sex Addicts Anonymous. His progress was extraordinary. His turning point was being arrested. SAA can cope with that kind of problem. Would it help paedophiles? I have no idea. I don’t understand paedophiles; I wish I did. I heard a story, it may be apocryphal, but there’s a part of me that really wants to believe it: Timothy Leary used to work in a therapeutic capacity and used to administer LSD to sex offenders. And I don’t think that there’s much difference in the depth of pathology between a particular section of rapists of adults and children, but he used to administer LSD and take them on a controlled trip through their conscience for 8 hours. He had a 25% recidivism rate, which is an unprecedented level of success. Let’s pretend it’s a fact. The point is: anything that doesn’t involve killing people and that reduces offending by 75% has to be worth considering. Beedogs Gina Beedog owns pretty much the best website on the whole internet; Beedogs.com. You guessed it: Dogs dressed up as bees. What on EARTH possessed you to dress dogs as bees? Dressing dogs as bees is a global phenomenon; I’m just an archivist who recognised it as an important part of the zeitgeist and put it together in one easy-to-digest infohubcast. Why are Beedogs so gosh-darn cute?The sharp contrast of yellow and black combined with the rhythmic panting of a dog are hypnotic and trigger the reactors in the part of our brains that compel us to coo at babies.Ever harvested honey from Beedogs? Yes, and take it from me, you do not want to stir it into your tea. If a Beedog stings you, does it die instantly? Beedogs have an unlimited stinging capacity. The stings are even more painful than those of the bullet ant. However, there have been no reported incidents of Beedog stinging outside of a laboratory setting, as the beedog is utterly lacking in coordination and cannot make willful contact with even the largest and slowest moving of targets. Have you been in trouble with animal welfare charities?I get chided occasionally by readers who feel that dressing up dogs is cruel. I usually respond by directing them to the section of the Humane Society website where dog clothing can be purchased.How do Beedogs contribute to the pollination process?Beedogs actually have a negative effect on pollination and flower propagation. If the Beedog had never come into existence, there would be an exponentially larger number of flowers covering our planet. Crime rates would be lower and impromptu public song-and-dance numbers would be more common. So what you’re saying is that Beedogs ruin everything? Yes. If we punted a Beedog off a roof, would it fly? No, but I would cry.Which type of beedog warms the heart more: A vicious mongrel or a gay little lapdog with a silly face?People tend to feel the most affinity with mini frou dogs. If you take a huge, slobbering beast and dress it as something that most people run away from screaming, the result is horrific.Did you used to be into some other kind of weird anthropomorphic stuff but switch over to Beedogs because you were utterly sick of it? How do we know you won’t just do the same thing, over and over again? Why the short attention span? Look in our eyes. Answer us immediately. I used to be totally into manatees who looked like... Hey, wanna go rollerskating? What’s your favorite movie? I like pancakes. Gina Beedog, thank you. I feel like we have both learned something today.Yes.Why Can't the English Learn to Speak? Look at her, a prisoner of the gutter Condemned by every syllable she utters By right, she should be taken out and hung For the cold-blooded murder of the English tongue Colonel Pickering in My Fair LadyReceived Pronunciation (RP) is considered the standard of the English language, an elegant form of speech absent of regional variation. Originally the accent of the upper and educated classes, RP is in line with the phonetics of the Oxford English Dictionary and provides the benchmark for international students of English. The first General Manager of the BBC, Lord Reith, adopted RP as Broadcasting Standard back in 1922 and as a result it is popularly known as BBC English. For a time Reith’s move assured us that TV and radio broadcasters spoke with a tongue that was comprehensible to the widest possible audience, and that our ears would not be raped by drooling, grammar spewing fame-seekers. However, the RP renaissance appears short lived. Colloquialists, dumb-nuts and regional deficients are infiltrating our tubes. Are the days are forever lost when one could tune in to informing, mannered and authoritative English speakers; anchors who know the meaning of ‘a brief interlude’? Are we now destined to suffer the likes of piffle-spitting Lauren Laverne presenting once-honourable programmes like The Culture Show? THE CULTURE SHOW! Tell me, what would an adulterant tongue-scraper like Laverne know about culture? She can’t even speak properly. When Brian Sewell passes through the pearly gates of intellectual broadcasting heaven, will our airwaves be forever soiled by asthma-inducing abbreviation? Will Dave ‘init Berry and the smut-filled sluts conquer all? Will we (switch off) to yet more catatonic celebrities blasting the trifling contents of their silicone-enhanced lungs? On a rare television show, the mighty Sewell cites a man lamenting the decline of Florence ‘into a state of nothingness’ following the departure of the last educated Medici. Centuries later we share in his dismay; our sets are ripe to be permanently and totally stricken by the polycephalic dog-tounged devil man that is Antdec. Before we fall blind and deaf into a sordid lingual nightmare, learn to speak with your whole mouth, read a few books and go and get a job in media. Quickly, else the English language is doomed and we will all be lobotomised into believing that you can say where you are without pronouncing the letter ‘h’. Colonel Pickering? Here, here. Retarded Ad Copy of the Year Someone wrote this. They were paid for it too. Someone actually sat in front of a keyboard, knocked this out and then left work feeling satisfied: “Hide your girlfriends from the Sinister Surf Club. These kids are the town misfits – every day is an adventure of their choosing. Skating the local park, riding motorcycles, going for a surf, playing music, chasing girls, tattooing themselves. Whatever the case, these kids forge their own path and get into all kinds of problems.”You left off ‘staying up late,’ ‘breakdancing’ and ‘illegally downloading music’. Jesus fucking christ. Glasgow Ice Cream Wars In the 1980s in the East End of Glasgow, rival ice cream van operators fought a bitter war over the most lucrative territories, using extreme violence to protect their spot. The reason these guys were so keen to guard their particular areas was because the ice cream van owners were using this legitimate-looking business to peddle drugs and stolen goods. Some ice cream sellers went as far as sprinkling rival vans with hundreds-and-thousands and sticking dozens of Flakes up the exhaust. OK, that's not true, no one did anything as amazing as that but some vendors routinely fired bullets through the windscreens of vans imposing on their turf. Can you imagine how brilliant a drive by shooting in an ice cream van would be, by the way? Picture one of these fat red-faced Scottish blokes pulling up alongside another van with the windows down and the children's nursery rhymes blaring and spraying it with bullets before speeding off at 12 miles an hour while being chased by an obese kid desperate to buy his gran a Twister. Lapland War When I think of Lapland I picture Santa filling sacks with presents, Mrs Claus knitting in her rocking chair in front of an open fire, Rudolph and his mates munching on carrots outside. This is pretty much what happens there – my mum told me all about it when I was younger. But things could have been very different today if Hitler had got his way. Did you know that between September 1944 and April 1945, the Nazis fought the Finnish army in Lapland? During this period, most of the civilian population had to be evacuated (except Santa, obviously – he had to stay behind with his little helpers to get all the pressies ready for Christmas). Luckily the Finns won, but just think what it would be like if the Nazis took over Lapland… Disabled people, who definitely deserve lots of presents at Christmas, wouldn't get anything from Santa. Jews would probably get an orange laced with Anthrax down their chimney. And anyone who wasn't white would probably wake up on Christmas morning to find a lump of reindeer shit in the shape of a swastika sat steaming under their beautifully decorated tree. Amadu's Jihad I went to see Amadou and Mariam, a blind singing married couple from Mali, at the Barbican last month. Unfortunately the audience was almost entirely made up of po-faced pasty pensioners who awkwardly shifted their flabby cheeks from side to side in their seats and clapped along in a feeble attempt to show they were enjoying themselves. It was one of the most horrific group events I have ever witnessed. They clearly weren't there to enjoy the music but to casually drop in to future conversations the fact that they'd enjoyed an evening of "world music made by authentic black people". I remember thinking it was lucky the couple were blind so they didn't have to witness the disgusting sight.Anyway, what I'm getting at is that Amadou is a very similar name to Amadu and between the years of 1810 and 1818, Seku Amadu, a Fulani Muslim leader in West Africa, initiated a war known as Amadu's Jihad in which he attempted to overthrow the the ruling Fulani dynasty of the region now known as Mali. Nobody gives a shit about this war, but what would have been a much better war is Amadou's Jihad. That night at the Barbican, just after the final song, "Je Pense a Toi", Amadou could have pulled out an AK-47 and callously culled the first six rows of the audience while cackling like a hyena as blood splattered all over the instruments on stage. Terrified, but very keen not to offend anyone, the pensioners would then shout "Encore!" and the band would start up again as Amadou reloaded his weapon and began spraying the crowd. Then, as some of the OAPs, desperate not to be killed, ran up the stairs, often feebly tripping like pathetic cripples, I'd scramble past them for the door and bolt them in.It would be an evening-long war against old white people who listen to world music to appear cultured. Damon Albarn would also die that night. It would be the best war ever.The Moro Islamic Liberation Front vs. the Philippine Army The Moro Islamic Liberation Front are a very serious group of Muslim separatist rebels fighting a very serious war in Southern Philippines. Their aim is to establish an Islamic state for their ethnic group and they will do whatever it takes to get what they want. In 1981, the group broke away from the Moro National Liberation Front and since then they've been doing stuff like executing wounded enemy soldiers that they capture, issuing jihads and blowing up airports. But then you realise that the acronym for Moro Islamic Liberation Front is MILF and suddenly the whole thing doesn't seem so serious anymore. You can news stories like: "MILF operatives attacked government troops in Maguindanao", and references to "The Philippines' MILF rebels". These guys are doggedly fighting a brutal religious war in a third world country and all I can picture when anyone talks about them is Nigella Lawson rubbing cake mix all over her tits while writhing naked on a marble kitchen work surface. Conquistadors vs. Native AmericansI've seen Last of the Mohicans seven times so I'm pretty much an expert on the historical conflict between Europeans and Native Americans. The clumsy English soldiers were just too cumbersome and got massacred by the Native American chaps. When the Spanish went to the Americas in the fifteenth century they'd obviously been warned about this (maybe they'd seen a DVD of the film or something) because they realised the Native Americans were way too scary to kill off using conventional warfare. Instead they just went about hugging a few grannies and maybe licking a few children until they'd passed on all their disgusting European diseases like measles, influenza, smallpox, typhoid and cholera to the natives. Then they sat around and chillaxed while their enemies dropped dead. Entire nations were annihilated before the Spaniards even reached them. And when they did get to a colony and there were still Native Americans who were alive, the conquistadors would sneak up on them while they were lying in bed with flu feeling sorry for themselves and chuck a grenade through their skylight or something. That's basically the full story of how the Spanish colonised America.‘Don’t be afraid our desperate love will save us’This bizarre statement will have greeted Softair enthusiasts entering Stazione Farnesina in Rome this summer. Softair is a war game particularly popular in Italy due to that country’s relaxed laws regarding air rifles. Roman underground station Stazione Farnesina has never seen a train due to a fuck up somewhere in the long chain of Italian bureaucracy. The junkies, drunks and mentals that used to inhabit the station were cleared out earlier this year by a group of community minded fascists known as Area 19 who are also responsible for covering the walls of the station in alarming but poetic slogans like the one above. It’s thanks to Area 19 that this summer, whilst the real Italian Army were above ground policing the streets of Rome, another group of Italians armed only with plastic ball firing weaponry were able to play war beneath them. We think there’s a moral in there somewhere. These photos might look like they were taken in the Balkans but they show some Softair guys going about their business. They take the game very, very seriously. KILLER ROBOTS Noel Sharkey is the country’s leading expert on Robots and the threat of military robotics. He has also been on Robot Wars, so getting him to talk to us about terrifying robots of the near future was quite a coup. What’s happening with military robotics? The next big breakthrough, if you want to call it a breakthrough, will be giving robots the decision about who to kill. Are we talking about sexy autonomous humanoid robots here or boring metal boxes? The new war-fighting robots will look like military vehicles: tanks, submarines and planes. A fully autonomous humanoid fighting robot is a way off. I see no evidence for that in any AI that I have seen, and I have seen a LOT. It would be great if we could just pit all the robots against each other and let them fight it out but no one would accept such defeat, so the robots would be sent in, killing, through our cities. What worries you most about these killer robots? I fear that we will rush into having autonomous military weapons before we can satisfy the fundamental laws of war. Robots and AI systems cannot discriminate between combatants and civilians. They can’t decide on the proportional use of force, and we can’t control them. They will be more like mobile mines. This is a very scary prospect. We are beginning to witness a robot arms race. Great. Are military robots more scary than the credit crunch? There is potential for widespread police and surveillance use of robots – developments in the military tend to come back to haunt us at home. Robots could be a threat to the whole human race if military plans succeed. If innocent people die as a result of the application of robots in military operations, then it is a risk not worth taking. Is there any chance of dirty foreigners getting hold of them? With the cost of robots falling so low, the ease of building robots nowadays, and all of the technology available on the internet, it will not be long before terrorists start using these to attack the civilian population. There is already evidence of this. I’m not going to explain how it can be done, for obvious reasons. Good call. What is the best robot ever? I’ve loved science fiction and robots since I was a boy. I would have to say that they are all great. You can’t say that OK. Terminator has to be one of the most powerful and scary robots ever. The robots in Blade Runner are actually androids but they are the coolest. Join the Navy, See the World People who complain about the armed forces are usually the type of people who have never done anything or been anywhere (drugs and music festivals in Europe don’t count). As far as I’m concerned, the joke’s on them. My dad was in the Royal Navy for nearly forty years and has done the most interesting things and literally been everywhere. Here is a list of stuff he has experienced that should serve to remind you that you are a boring, pampered media worker who has never lived:My dad was on a patrol boat on the Thames and found a body in quite a late stage of decomposition. He tried to get it ashore with a boathook. The problem was that the boathook kept passing straight through the body and breaking chunks off it. He persevered, got it ashore and waited by it until the police arrived. He was thirteen when that happened.At naval college he often had to patrol looking for people who couldn’t hack the pressure and ran away. Once while looking for a sailor who had gone AWOL he found a corpse in a bed in a houseboat. He ate the biscuits by the bed to establish their freshness and therefore the freshness of the corpse.By the time he was 25 he was navigator of a submarine, meaning that he was in charge of guiding a massive metal hulk filled with a hundred men through pitch black waters far beneath the surface of the ocean. You still can’t drive. My dad spent a few years traveling around Antarctica on an Icebreaker patrolling, making maps and carrying out all sorts of seismic and oceanographic surveys. He discovered a sea mountain and named it after our family dog. This made the papers as he got into trouble with a bunch of scientists for not using some international naming convention. My mum was pissed off that he didn’t name it after her. Most of the eighties were spent telling my mum that he was away on exercises in the North Sea but he was actually somewhere else completely spying on Russians from a submarine. Once there was an accident on board that filled the whole submarine with ammonia while they were doing an ‘underwater look’ (passing beneath a Russian ship and taking photos) so they had to stay underwater and keep doing their job even though everyone was puking into their oxygen masks and passing out. During the Falklands war he had an SBS bodyguard called Cheesewire. He was called Cheesewire because he cut the heads off of Argentinians with a piece of cheesewire. Also in the Falklands he traveled to a remote island and met a totally inbred family where the mother and father were brother and sister. He says the kids were normal looking but they were really shouty and they smelled bad. In Singapore he accidentally booked an entire ship’s company into a brothel that he thought was a hotel. I think he stayed the night there too but he won’t tell me. Our first video player was a gift from Sultan of Fujairah in exchange for disposing of all the mines in the Gulf of Oman. My dad threw a party on board his ship for the Sultan and the guy turned up wearing a pair of silver revolvers and a belt of silver bullets. Also when he was in the Gulf of Oman he rescued a fisherman who had been adrift with nothing but the oar of his boat to hold onto for three days. He and the ship’s doctor put this guy in the bath and slowly raised his body temperature over the course of a day or so until he was ok again. Before he went to work each day when we were little he had to check under his car for bombs planted by the IRA using a special torch with a mirror attached to the end. Towards the end of my dad's career he worked in a bunker eight stories below ground level for six months helping to build some unnamed military computer program. It was totally nuclear-proof and they had enough tinned goods to last forever and a stockpile of cardboard coffins.He was required by law to retrain with firearms every few years, thus making him a crack shot who can take apart and put back together a load of different weapons. He thinks war is hell and there’s loads of stuff he won’t talk about, which implies he’s done some pretty full-on things in the name of queen and country that are not on this list. So to summarise, my dad is Action Man, the navy is cool and your life is really fucking dull. Robert Downey Jr As far back as the sixth century BC, Chinese warrior Sun Tzu suggested putting limits on the way that wars were conducted. This notion seemed logical to those who went out fighting and killing, and gave some structure to combat, so that we ended up with lovely heart-warming tales of English and German soldiers playing football in No-Man’s Land at Christmas, and the confusing term ‘war-crime’. If this seems preposterous, spare a thought for the modern football hooligan: not at war but still requiring a degree of violent release. They have rules of conduct too; it’s not all bumbling around urban streets aimlessly looking for a chaotic brawl, as Green Street might have you believe. Most of these rows are quite civilized. As the 80s saw more and more of a crackdown on football related violence, casuals found a common enemy in the police – and the football police are notoriously vicious. Naturally, it’s not practical to be out fighting the police every weekend, so the common casual had to adapt, not just in terms of no longer wearing their team’s colours (or going undercover behind enemy lines, if you will), but also organising themselves, cooperating with the opposition to decide how future rows were to occur. A typical scenario was played out when one of my QPR mates flipped open his phone in the pub and dialled a number from a piece of paper. When answered, he said: “Hi, is that Stoke? Brilliant, QPR here, how’s it all going over there? Yeah we thought they’d be around, because of last time. What, you’ve actually got horses in Stoke? Joke, joke! OK, well how about the station before? Still too busy? Really? No problem mate, how about the station after? Don’t reckon the coppers would think of that! Alright, let me know when you’ve spoken to your boys. Bye!” When I asked my friend where he got the number for a rival hooligan, he told me that these contacts were easy to find on the internet. In this pseudo-gentlemanly way, the laws of war thus seem intact as these niche football fans pour off trains at the wrong station, shake hands, and bust each other up away from innocent civilians and the beady eye of the police. And to think that when I was a kid, the idea of armies bothering to line up in front of each other instead of just immediately attacking seemed surreal. Who does society prefer; a dappy peacenik slut or a hardnosed military bitch? We dispatched our intern to find out. She dressed her buddy in a hippy costume one day and a soldiers uniform the next for a scientifically flawless experiment. Really she should have had a control girl just dressed normally, as a placebo, but we all agreed that would be pointless (as if this wasn’t already a total waste of time). If we analyse these results, it’s pretty obvious what’s going on here. Everyone wants to be buddies with the hippy because she takes drugs, drinks a lot and loves everyone and everything. No one wants to fuck her though because she looks like she hasn’t had a bath for a year, her hair never sees a brush and she just talks shit constantly. Lots of people want to have sex with the soldier, but all of those people are women with too much testosterone or men with such low self esteem that they want her to stamp on their nasty little sacks and make them cry. What have we learnt? If you want to have lots of brutal fascistic sex, dress up in uniform. If you want to get on with everyone superficially but be sexually repulsive, be a hippy. We knew that already though. Thanks a bunch, intern girl. Tombs of the Unknown Soldiers Jim Goad on The Myth of the Myth of Black Confederate soldiers in the American Civil War by Jim Goad The superficially benign sons and daughters of Marx who ham-handedly control public discourse among all English-speaking peoples of the world—the self-hating, typically pale-skinned, and invariably upper-class ectomorphs who blow Noam Chomsky under his desk as they simultaneously give handjobs to Foucault and Derrida while taking it up the ass without lube from Mao’s tiny, angry dick—insist that history is written by the winners and that we should be highly suspicious of anything that winners write.I have no argument with them on that count, especially as it applies to the historical record on war. But in their tireless efforts to steer Left so often that they may as well be in a NASCAR race, they permit two blazingly hypocritical exceptions to this rule: World War II and America’s Civil War. Because the winners tell us that these conflicts were waged for the exclusive purpose of annihilating anyone who indulged in the pernicious, viral, and inescapably naughty thought crime of RACISM, Leftists eagerly swallow what the winners say like malnourished infants slurping on a cream-filled bottle.I don’t care to dispute popular notions about World War II because, to be candid, I’m an American and don’t care about the rest of the world. But I believe there are cotton fields full of evidence to dispute the sacred notion that President Lincoln allowed over half a million white men to die merely because he thought blacks were neato and slavery was uncool. But you won’t believe anything I say, because I’m an asshole white-male American who doesn’t feel bad about being an asshole white-male American, so I’ll let Lincoln’s own words make my case for me: I will say, then, that I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races [applause]; that I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of making voters or jurors of Negroes, nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people…And inasmuch as they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the position of superior and inferior, and I as much as any other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race. —The Lincoln-Douglas debates, Charleston, IL, September 18, 1858 My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it… —From a letter to Horace Greeley during the Civil War For the fucking sake of the bleeding, sweating, dying, wailing, burping, farting, nailed-to-the-cross Jesus, people—America’s Civil War was no different than all other wars in that its underpinnings were primarily economic rather than ideological. Charles Dickens, who, besides Noddy Holder, is one of the only British men I truly admire, is credited with the following passages: The Northern onslaught upon slavery was no more than a piece of specious humbug designed to conceal its desire for economic control of the Southern states.—London, 1861 Any reasonable creature may know, if willing, that the North hates the Negro, and that until it was convenient to make a pretence that sympathy with him was the cause of the war, hated the abolitionists and derided them up hill and down dale.—Letter, 1862 And here’s what Karl Marx had to say about it, which may cause internal hemorrhaging among his latter-day disciples: The war between the North and the South is a tariff war. The war…does not touch the question of slavery, and in fact turns on the Northern lust for sovereignty.—London, October 20, 1861 But perhaps the most persuasive, damning, and mind-blowing notion of all is the idea that some—not all, not most, and maybe not even many, relatively speaking—Southern blacks picked up arms and fought for the Confederacy during the Civil War. I realize that you, living as you do in your tiny pink bubble, find this impossible to believe. Here is what some modern historians and columnists say about it: There were an estimated 50,000 blacks who served willingly as Confederate soldiers...Federal history has hidden and altered the truth of the role blacks played in the War for Southern Independence.…They have taught their Yankee version of history in our public schools for the last 140+ years and have purposely taught hatred, misunderstanding, and ignorance between the black and white races. —H. K. Edgerton Many people don’t realize that blacks served in the Confederate Army, and that some actually fought....Many people ask why free blacks would join the Confederate Army....There could be many reasons. Many free blacks were literate and property owners, so it could have been in their interest to be with the Confederates.—Earl I james When you eliminate the black Confederate soldier, you've eliminated the history of the South.—Leonard Haynes At this point you are scratching your cherry-pit-sized testicles uncomfortably and are primed to label all such assertions as the delusional ravings of bigoted, inbred Southern rednecks fiercely attempting to deny the undeniable generational guilt they inherited from their forefathers, guilt that they must, if they are to be considered decent men at all, flog themselves with until they crawl submissively into the grave. The problem with that idea is that ALL of those quotes come from black men. Still searching for an excuse to prevent your ideological walls from crumbling down, you insist that white racism is so pervasive and powerful, it has led a small minority of the black minority into the darkest canyons of self-abhorring madness and that the idea of white racism alone can be used to discount all of the above quotes. Fuck you, then, suck on this: It is now pretty well established, that there are at the present moment many colored men in the Confederate army doing duty not only as cooks, servants and laborers, but as real soldiers, having muskets on their shoulders, and bullets in their pockets, ready to shoot down loyal troops, and do all that soldiers may to destroy the Federal Government and build up that of the traitors and rebels.…That the Negroes are numerous in the rebel army, and do for that army its heaviest work, is beyond question. That’s from an 1862 letter to Abraham Lincoln written by famed ex-slave and abolitionist Frederick Douglass, who, as you may be remotely bright enough to guess, was a black man. Seeing as he was a black ex-slave who was alive during the Civil War, I have a tugging suspicion he’d know more about the topic than either you or me. So shut that cock-receptacle you call a mouth and get back to working in that field before I whip you again.The Filing Cabinets that Contain Each War’s Mirror.All wars generate their own replica in bureaucracy. For every military action there is a form. It would be easy to mistake these forms for reductions of reality; they are improvements upon it. Bureaucracy is war’s crisp clean mirror. How beautiful is DA FORM 969? Its sole purpose is to track the movement of other forms across the desks and filing cabinets of very important people. Whilst the real action occurs its replica is silently and exponentially generating and recording.There are the forms which record your army, your soldiers (DA 5026-R), their tattoos (DA 5427), mental health situations (DD 2796), family, children father’s first name mothers maiden name, when and how they would like to be buried, who should be informed and what they would like written on their headstones (DA 7302 Disposition of Remains Statement). There are tick boxes pertaining to every part of a soldier’s body.The next level catalogues the movements of these soldiers both before and after they arrive in a war zone, preparing for undertaking and evaluating operations, how and when they are injured, killed or fall into enemy hands (DA 2665-R Capture Card for Prisoner of War, which must be handed to your captors the moment you are taken prisoner). The movements of bodies both dead and alive must all be recorded through forms. The forms which track the movements of soldiers through a war zone do not differ greatly from the forms tracking other forms. In this context you might begin to regard a soldier as a form carrying a limited amount of information. Troop movement then becomes a large scale filing operation.Other useful forms include: a form to assist soldiers in making decisions (DA 5478 Decision Table); the inadvertent disclosure oath (DA 5750) in which soldiers promise not to disclose information overheard by accident; a form to fill in when the missile you just launched malfunctions (DA 4379-1) and last but not least a form which discerns what specialised training a soldier may or may not have had in crafts (DA 4975). Yes, that’s knitting and wickerwork. You mustn’t forget that every war must be fought within a landscape (DA 7503) with weather conditions (DA 4469-R wind computation), terrains, time zones (DA 1902), and insects (DA 8014-R Cockroach Survey Sheet). What about the information that slips past the tick boxes? What if the colour of the biological sample being recorded in DA FORM 1971-6-R cannot be described in the space given? You have to write something there. The pieces of reality that slip from the edges of the forms cease to exist. What can be made real is prescribed by whether or not the necessary form is available.TImes are hard. The credit crunch kicked in and we had to move out of our trendy london premises. Advertising started to tail off and the only way we could maintain our massive coke habits was to sack the entire staff without notice and move down to Worthing on the south coast. Deano and Ben are sharing a three meter by two meter broom cupboard in an asbestos factory. It kind of sucks, but the rent is cheap as piss. What hurts more than anything else though is that we don't have room for our arms cache. The London FUN office had a whole velvet lined gun storage facility with naked teens employed solely to rub themselves against our carbines and polish our barrels. That's not even a euphemism; it was great. We had to sell almost the whole lot or face bankruptcy. Luckily we got to keep our sniper rifles and a couple of 9mms so we can still relax by doing what we do best: wantonly killing stuff and smearing ourselves in blood. I would love 5 of your best war poemsI can do that now Ok let's do it now I’m in the mood I’m totally hung over and dying Ok, ok Hey Leaders Why do you FART on our faces? FARTS OF LIES BIG MEATY POSH RESTAURANT FARTS 50 quid a steakWE AINT BUYING IT YOU CAN TAKE YOUR 50 QUID STEAKS AND YOUR LYING FARTS AND GO STICK THEM RIGHT UP YOUR CORPORATE ARSE The death machine is real Ok that's the first one I love it. Bring it on. Maybe a haiku Ok here's the next one DO YOU FUCKING THINK THAT I AM GONNA BUY THE LIE OF YOUR IMPLANT MAMMARIES? NO WAY NO FUCKING WAY TAKE YOUR DUCK LIPS AND YOUR CHOPPED OFF NIPPLES AND GIVE EM BACK TO GORDON BROWN OR WHATEVER THE MANIPULATOR OF LIES IS CALLING HIMSELF THESE DAYS Oh god yeah HE IS AN INSANE MERCHANT OI BROWN GIVE IT A FUCKING REST STOP MUTILATING THE INNOCENT BODIES OF WOMEN WHO ARE OPPRESSED BY THE STARBUCKS SOCIETY GIVE IT UP GO AND FUCK YOURSELF AND HAVE A WANK OVER THE NEW STATE OPPRESSION HUGE BOOBS GET OVER IT LIARS Does that work? So much. Carry on. More. Loving these STOP MUTILATING THE INNOCENT BODIES OF WOMEN WHO ARE OPPRESSED BY THE STARBUCKS SOCIETY Amazing Ok want another one? Yes please JOHN MCCAIN MORE LIKE A BULLET IN THE BRAIN KEEPING THE LIES ABOUT INVADING FOREIGN LANDS PUMPING LIKE THE EVIL OIL PIPES TO KEEP THE FUCKING UPPER CLASSES CHILDREN TAKEN TO SCHOOL IN PEOPLE CARRIERS Oh god yeah I WISH THERE WAS A GIANT MALLET MADE OUT OF THE VOICES OF THE OPPRESSED STARVING BABIES THAT WOULD CRUSH THE PEOPLE CARRIER PARENTS TO DEATH AND AS THEY LAY ON THE ROAD GURGLING THEIR LAST BOURGEOUS BREATH A BIT OF MCCAIN'S OIL WOULD LEAK INTO THEIR FUCKING MOUTHS AND INVADE THEIR SICK BRAINS PUPPETS OF THE STATE Wow. You're blowing me away dude. My mind. Is in political meltdown OK do you want one about immigrants? YES please CHERIE BLAIR'S A FUCKING SLAG SHE'S A TOTAL LYING BITCH WHO GETS PAID BY HER TONY BLAIR TO KEEP THE OPPRESSED FORCED DOWN! WHO CARES THAT THE SO CALLED 'IMMIGRANTS' ARE TAKING ALL THE JOBS FROM CHERIE BLAIR'S SOCIETY WHO CARES IT WOULD BE GREAT IF CHERIE BLAIR WAS GANGRAPED BY A GANG OF 15 POLISH BUILDERS IN THE BACKROOM OF A CONVERTED KEBAB HOUSE BECAUSE NOT ONLY IS EATING MEAT UNETHICAL It is unethical BUT IT WOULD BE PAY BACK FOR ALL THE DAMAGE THAT THE BLAIRS HAVE DONE TO SOCIETY AND SHE WOULD PROBABLY LIKE IT BECAUSE TONY BLAIR IS JUST A THATCHER PUPPET WHO DOES NOT EXPECT TO WIN THE BATTLE TO SAVE THE OPPRESSED FROM SOCIETY'S LIES Please say oppressed again DONT TRY TO OPPRESS ME You're not a victim! YOU CAN'T DESTROY THIS SPIRT INSIDE OF ME THAT CONSTANTLY STRIVES TO NOT BE A VICTIM OF SOCIETY'S OPPRESSION I WILL NEVER BOW DOWN TO THE HEIRACHY OF MISANTHROPIC MISOGYNGY If I was a girl I would be wet DO NOT KEEP OUR SISTERS OPPRESSED THEY ARE PEOPLE JUST LIKE US THEY ARE PEOPLE JUST LIKE US THEY CAN GROW THEIR HAIR EVERYWHERE ESPECIALLY IN THE BITS THAT THE SO CALLED FASHION MAGAZINES OPPRESS THEM WITH KEEP THE FANNYS MASSIVE DO NOT WALK AGAINST NATURE Mother nature, yeah? IT WILL DESTORY YOU PATRIACHY IS HEGENOMIC AND IT WILL DIE NO LONGER WILL EITHER GENDER PRETEND TO ENJOY YOUR GIGANTIC RAPE MACHINES THAT PERFORATE OUR PORES AT EVERY GIVEN MOMENT OF OUR OPPRESSED "LIFE" These are gold. Solid gold ANTI -WAR STATEMENT KIT Hey Kids! Make your own horrific anti-war tableau with this easy-to-follow guide! Recreate iconic scenes from conflict zones using toys and household accessories! Remember: Always ask an adult before you make any aggressive political statements. Always use blunt scissors. PROJECT ONE: IRAQI ROADSIDE BOMB Boom! Whiz! Bang! Here’s an exciting scene to impress your friends.. THE BACKDROP Find a shoebox. Paint the outside panels in the colours of the Iraqi flag (red, white and black with an optional green star), as a mark of respect for the oppressed Iraqi people. Paint the rear inside panel a middle-eastern sky blue, but leave space for the acrid black smoke you’ll be adding later. Once the paint has dried, glue sandpaper across the floor of the box to create a bleak desert landscape.THE SCENE Cut the toilet rolls in half, and paint them black. Write ‘OIL FOR EVIL U.S CORPORATIONS’ on them in ragged capital letters. Use red and yellow card to create six ‘flames’. Spread balls of cotton wool across the ground for smoke Make a banner that says ‘PERSIAN RUGS TWO FOR A POUND’ in Arab lettering. Create an Arab peasant in shock. He has narrowly avoided being hit by a Roadside bomb. Take a dark cork, and draw on a ‘shocked’ expression (don’t forget the thick bushy raised eyebrows and big Semitic nose.) Now cut out a 5cm square of towel to create his ethnic Arab headscarf. Make some wavy arms and sellotape them on to wire, inserting the wire into the sides of the cork. Place your ethnic peasant in the foreground of your scene.PART 3: CARNAGE! Cut up a teddy bear, and scatter his body parts across the scene. Draw tattoos on his arms saying ‘I LOVE THE CORPS’ and ‘MOMMY’.To simulate blood gushing from wounds, daub the dismembered parts of your stuffed toys with the gunky stuff from your mum’s used tampax. Add PVA glue around the eyes for tears of imperialist regret. There you have it! Don’t miss out on our upcoming issues: Guantanamo in Cork and fuzzy felt Nagasaki out of dust and splinters Playdo-DachauThat bit in Vietnam with the burning kid out of LegoThe Palestinian occupied territories in beads and dry pasta. Aloha! from the hilltops of north Wales to you Down there in your miserable accommodation, restrained by the inadequacies of your pitiful life. You, whining incessantly about bankers and estate agents, not realising that it is you who caused the financial meltdown, with your petty greed and vulgar impatience. You caused the black cancer that ate Jade Goody’s cervix with your defunct emotions, and as we sit here in our tepee, we inject more mescalinE into our eyelids and laugh booming crystalline laughs across the green hills when we think about you and how boring and ugly and pointless YOU ARE. Then we spread our golden gossamer wings and soar into the ether, leaving you to masturbatory sobbing and self harm. YOU BIG TWAT. Germaine Arnold is about seven foot tall with an afro Lynsey Atkin is a workshy dole scummer. Benefits Agency take note Bruno Bayley makes Airfix kits and listens to soul music Antoine Bernhart is French Philip Best was more innovative aged 14 than you will ever be Andy Capper collects things that make him look interesting at dinner parties Roisin Dunne has abnormally good taste in music for a girl Attilia Fattori changes the water in the cooler, photocopies our filing and operates the internet computer Chantal Feduchin-Pate is a loud-mouthed Russian-American Bob Foster has issues Georgia Harrison is northern and has friends who live on boats Andrew Hartwell runs Aurora Borealis Records and has long hair Dylan Hughes is an afficionado of stuff you don’t even know the word for Eva Kellenberger likes big fluffy white dogs Mimi Leung is currently skipping around the outback pretending to be a boomerang Dan Lewis is a wretch Nur Abbas’ first name is German for ‘only’ and Arabic for ‘light’. Get it? Nicolás Mezzadri lives in Argentina. Hit him up on nicomezzadri@hotmail.com Jessica Penfold is even smaller than Bruno Prancehall’s life revolves around Ribena, mushrooms, cats and the word ‘yep’ Marek Steven plays Dungeons & Dragons and listens to Morbid Angel Page Tsou is the man-legend who always saves our necks at the last minute James Unsworth lives his life like a candle in the wind Gavin Watson is another former child prodigy who gave us some amazing artwork EDITORBen FreemanASSOCIATE EDITOR Deano Jo PUBLISHER Real Gold INTERN Attilia Fattori COPY EDITOR John McDonnell DESIGN PIXIES Ben Freeman Lynsey Atkin PICTURES Lynsey Atkin Antoine Bernhart Philip Best Roisin Dunne Eva Kellenberger Mimi Leung Only Light Nicolás Mezzadri Jessica Penfold Page Tsou James Unsworth Gavin Watson SANTA’S LITTLE HELPER Georgia Harrison WORDS Germaine Arnold Bruno Bayley Andy CapperAttilia Fattori Chantal Feduchin-Pate Bob Foster Andrew Hartwell Dylan Hughes Dan Lewis Prancehall Marek Steven Printed on stock kindly supplied by Arctic Paper Matt Pike shot by Cameron Smith Dear FUN, I don’t understand it and I don’t like it. I don’t know why it exists and I don’t want it. Matthew Giraudeau Hiya Matthew. Thanks for your valuable opinion. Readers, if you want to hear more about what Matthew ‘thinks’, you can find reams of self-important toss about fine art theory and poetry on his massively self-indulgent website, along with some David Shrigley rip-offs so blatant that they could result in some sort of legal action. He also writes a blog about his own shit – literally, not figuratively. His faeces. Hello FUN, I am an urban poet. I haven’t read your magazine before but I was wondering if you would be interested in publishing some of my work. I have a new website where you can read my stuff. I’d love to know what you think. Peace! Jacob Muzuma Hiya Jacob. It’s a shame that you haven’t found the time to read our magazine. If you had you would have soon realised that there’s not a chance in hell of us ever being interested in what you do. We’re on a different journey, you see. You want to make the world a better place with your political verse and urban performance. We think that famine and global warming is a good thing, because the world is grossly overpopulated. Perhaps now you can see why we don’t want to print your poems. Dear sirs, I read your article ‘FAGTASTROPHE’ with dismay and disappointment. Are you seriously going to let these homophobics [sic] write all those appawling [sic] comments? Emily Tuesday Hiya Emily. We’re sorry that you were offended by our sensitive account of Stevie Nudist’s unfortunate nasal scarring through misuse of amyl nitrate. We can’t, however, be labelled as homophobic or racist because one of our editorial team knows a gay man, and another one of us is of mixed race descent. This means that we can write pretty much anything and if you accuse us of bigotry, we can belittle you and make you feel guilty, stupid and hypocritical. Hey FUN, I found a copy of your magazine in a shop near where I live in Worthing. I would love to do some illustration for you. Please find some of my new drawings attached. Thanks, Jason Springett Hiya Jason. Thanks very much for sending your work in. The drawings are hilarious, quite apart from the fact that you can draw unlike the majority of halfwits who write to us. We’ll be in touch. Product design AND BRAND STRATEGY Chantal Feduchin-Pate We’re going to open a shop selling aromatherapy oils that cure AIDS and stuff like that. Here are a few dreamcatchers we made. Do you want to buy one? Oh, go on This dreamcatcher has been used throughout history to protect the sleeper from the nightmares of adult reality and instead deliver soothing and nostalgic dreams of 80s youth. Anxieties about the economy, and the resulting desperate measures one turns to, can be banished forever with this tribal power construction. Instead it lets one indulge in the now fantastical dream of pocket change amid an uncertain future of Lidl and filthy working class pursuits. Finally we have a wet-dream catcher, which filters out all the wrong, yet oddly arousing thoughts, and only lets in what is right. The origins of its unique shape are shrouded in mystery. • Words Attilia Fattori “I look like an innocent old lady going about my business privately and quietly, don’t I? But please don’t be deceived. There is nothing nice about me. I am a professional witch and master craftswoman black magic sorceress with forty years of experience, and yes I’ve seen it all! The reason people contact me is because they are at their wits’ end and they need assistance to get their own back on those ugly, selfish, nasty people out there who have to be punished because they live their lives without showing any consideration for their relatives or other people! They lie to you. They cheat on you. They insult your intelligence. They beat you up. They kick you around. They treat you like crap. They show you up in public. They humiliate you with their affairs. They show you no love. And yet they expect you to still love them and care for them! “So, if you need a little help getting your own back, contact me, Mrs Gallant, I am based near Smokey Caverns in West Virginia. Tell me what’s happened to you. I stop at nothing to bring your enemies to their knees. Once I set to doing my rituals you can be assured of complete protection – you will not be affected by the hex fallout.I will create a circle of protection around you. But I will break down the walls around your ‘victim’ so that they can ‘receive’ everything that’s coming to them. I am focused on you getting your revenge!” > 8th April 2009 16.00 Hiya! Please can you could create a personalised curse for me? Thanks. >> 9th April 2009 17.45 Yes indeed, personalised ones are my speciality. Let me have your email address so I can contact you in private and go through the details. Thank you, Mrs Gallant >>> 10th April 2009 12.15 I’d prefer not to give you my personal email address if it’s all the same to you. How much would it cost for something special? Like some real macked-out sorcery shit? Thanks! >>>> 14th April 2009 22.25 Good Morning to you! What sort of spell or curse is it, my dear? You can speak here in all privacy, the prices of spells range from between $20 to $500. Is yours something relatively simple or something serious? I sense that you are distressed, so just let me know what the problem is and we can get to work on it. Gale Storm Gallant >>>>> 15th April 2009 16.19 Dear Mrs Gallant, I want to curse my competitors. But what happens if I curse them and they die? Could I get in some sort of legal trouble? I’m too pretty to go to the big house. Thanks. >>>>>> 15th April 2009 20.30 Dear Client, No one would be cursed to die, although it is true that small accidents often happen such as car crashes, nervous breakdowns, and bankruptcies. But there would be no legal come-back on you and no bad karma. After all, it is me doing the spell so you would keep your hands clean and stay in the shadows. The cost would be from $25. I cannot imagine it would be more than that. Gale Storm Gallant >>>>>>> 22th April 2009 17.51 Dear Mrs Gallant, Sorry for my late reply, I was having a good hard think about everything. What do you need to make the curse? Are the names of my enemies enough? Also, how will I know when you have made the curse? What consequences will I see as a proof? Can I have a receipt? Thanks. >>>>>>>> 23rd April 2009 20.30 How do I know what consequences you will see? I don’t live near your enemies, you do! I am not a psychic, I am a witch! >>>>>>>>> 25th April 2009 17.51 Sorry, I assumed you were a psychic. I really want to understand how curses work. I want to be sure about the consequences. But I don’t really want them to die horribly, I was thinking more about taking a portion of their ad revenue. Does that sound too specific? If I’m not sure what will happen I’ll use something different. So after I will pay you, I have to wait and see what happens. But I’m wondering: what will happen? Do you need the names or something or is it enough if I think negative thoughts about them? Do the words ‘Dazed and Confused’ mean anything to you? >>>>>>>>>> 26th April 2009 18.30 What on EARTH are you on about? You want to understand how a curse works? You know what a curse is! Now stop wasting my time and go away. Magazines? Christ. • Our friend had a harrowing experience while holidaying in Africa, and it involved a roadside beggar, a dead baby and a stick. Yes, really. We were as perplexed and horrified as you probably are so we got her to draw a picture and we had a chat FUN: So, what’s this picture all about? Ms Alabama: The plight of the people of third world Africa, conveyed through the medium of art. Did you really encounter squalor as heinous as this in the ‘motherland’? I did. It was a turning point for me. It made me appreciate the little things in my life. Like the fact the only things I usually see on sticks are candy floss or ice lollies. Not babies. How old were you when this was proffered to you like an unwanted gift from a dirty uncle? I was about ten years old. It has haunted me ever since. The childhood innocence was ripped from my eyes. What did you say to people back home about your horrific encounter? Or were you too embarrassed to speak about it? I wasn’t embarrassed, it was more a sick sense of realisation, like when you find out Santa isn’t real. But instead I found out that some people beg using dead babies on sticks as sympathy tools to earn more money. Did you find out Santa wasn’t real before or after this? I guess Santa wasn’t really relevant after a dead baby on a stick, right? Exactly. Santa was far from my mind. Now the only thing coming down my chimney was a steaming pile of guilt topped off with a baby on a stick. Have you ever thought about going back to Africa and getting a witch doctor to exorcise the demons from your mind? Maybe next year? It’s an option. Either that or Magaluf. • Words Gloria StitsPicture Ben “Henri Cartier-Bresson” Freeman I have a Basset Hound called Larry and I’m going to a psychic to find out how compatible we are FUN: So how does all this work? I’ve never been to one of these dogstrology readings before. Chris: Let’s play it by ear and see how we get on. Right. I’ll input all the birth data. Meanwhile, you shuffle these tarot cards, and try to think of nothing in particular. Okay… Shit, sorry, I just thought about something. Is that going to mess up the reading? No, it should be okay. You are a drama queen, [Which is a fair assessment considering that I’ve given £35 to a psychic to give me a reading for my dog] and also you had childhood problems. Where do you get that from? From your birth chart. Your childhood was very cold so that would give you an emotional need, wouldn’t it? And Larry has something in his past too. I’m not sure what… Oh, he was fucked. Sorry? I got Larry from my friend at a dog rescue centre. Some guy had been sexually abusing him for two years. Ah. That explains it. I want to make sure we aren’t celestially bound for conflict. No, the major issue is likely to be the fact that he was betrayed by those he trusted. He would have been disturbed by the sort of unpleasant vibrations and negative forces from other people. Well, yes, brutal forces really. I think the initiative should come from you. So you approach him, you don’t wait for him to approach you. He’s used to that I suppose, someone else making the first move… I think talking to him is important. What sort of things should I talk about? Like how my day was or what film I want to see? Yeah, ’cos he’s just very sensitive. He needs to know you are there. It’s important to not leave him alone too much. He needs fun and attention. Routine too, like taking him for walks and feeding him at the same time. My dog needs all that? I think he’s very sensitive. A bit of a clairvoyant really, if you were to put it in human terms. Well, is there a dog term? Not really. Why not? Uh, you know… These tarot cards are more about you than him. You need to relax a bit more, you seem a bit tense. Really? Well, it’s just that these cards are horrible. Thanks. • Here are some FUN uses for the corpses of executed criminals, lovingly passed down through the ages Human fat Man grease was sold to members of the French public by executioners back in the 18th century. It was used to cure rheumatism and gout. The stuff you got from the chemists was better though, because they mixed it with beeswax and turpentine to make it smell good. Thieves’ candle Burglars in the 15th century would make a candle from the severed hand of a hanged man, and a wick made from human hair. It could be used to unlock doors and send anyone who saw it to sleep. Burglars these days use a crowbar, which some would argue is more economical. Man-skin books People used to bind books in human skin from time to time. Again,executed criminals were often used because there was no shortage of them in the days when not telling a shopkeeper that he gave you too much change was a beheading offence. Skull moss The moss that grows in a hanged man’s skull was used to cure headaches, angina and the sniffles. It was popularised after the Irish massacre in the 17th century, and English druggists were stuffed full of the mossy skulls of Catholics who had died violent deaths. Skull moss doesn’t grow in non-criminal skulls. Fact. • Words Bruno BayleyPicture Page Tsou People think that cults are less of a problem these days. They associate them more with the freaks of the 70s, especially in Britain. Cult counsellor Graham Baldwin met up with us to tell us what’s really going on FUN: How would you define a cult? Graham Baldwin: There are three definitions. The first is theological: “I am a Christian, you don’t share my views of Christianity, therefore you are a cult”. Somebody at some point decides on their orthodoxy and then decides that anyone who does not agree is a cult. The second definition comes in the sociological pattern. It doesn’t want to use the world “cult” anymore. It is more interested in where groups come from, the cultures in them, the demographics of people it attracts. The third definition, the one I adhere to, looks at what a group does rather than what it believes. Doctrine is irrelevant. This is loosely the definition: the group is an organisation, normally led by one person, who claims some supernatural belief, power or revelation and who breeds an unhealthy dependence upon himself or the guru and the group, to the detriment of the individual. That is the key: the “detriment”. Another part of the definition is “ … and tends to use unfair methods of manipulation and recruitment”. If they want to self-flagellate that’s fine. What we want is that people have full knowledge of what they are getting into before they join a group, so that they are not damaged. What has changed since the heyday of wacky cults? Religion itself has changed in the UK since the 1970s. Back in those days there were lots of groups. They tended to be much larger, easier to identify, normally having a religious basis. What we are seeing now is an explosion of smaller groups: healers, therapists, some of them to do with religious beliefs, some just broadly new age. Not that every new age group is bad… Really? You can also see these things developing in traditional religions. If you look at the Anglican religion, they have had some spectacular examples of cultic behaviour. The Nine O’Clock Service in Sheffield, for example – Chris Brain created a personality cult and went on to abuse girls within the group, yet at the time was praised and promoted by the bishops.  hat we have got away from is the rigid groups that were easy to identify in the 70s. Now it is much harder to see where the demarcations lie. Scientology, which is still a big problem, is at least easy to identify. OK, so what examples are there of the kinds of cults you have to deal with today in Britain? Let me into your world. There is a group in London at the moment, from Korea, called Qi Health. We have had reports of individuals that have had vast amounts of money taken from them in ways that can be only seen as manipulative. One person donated over £300,000 to the group. This was an unemployed and unwell man. There are three things that can motivate these groups: money, power in the desire to dominate people, and very often sex.  n action has just been started against a therapist who had set up a therapy group that had an inner circle that people had been going to for 20 years. They had to go to every therapy and group session, they were all split from their families and led to believe that the families were the problem. Yet most of these people had no “problems” in the first place, many had only gone in effect for singing lessons. So these people would go to sing and be told they had psychological problems due to their parents, or abuse of whatever. And some of them were still going to see him six times a month at £70 a go twenty years later. Which groups are at the highest risk? People seem to think that cults target the young, but that is not true. You have to remember that if your purpose is to get money and develop your organisation, old age pensioners have the most disposable income. We often see old people encouraged to move into communal housing and donate their homes to a group. The younger range often covers students, people outside their social context who have had broken relationships or have lost their jobs. We normally say that a person who gets recruited is above average intelligence, not mad or weak. It is generally someone who is going through a transitional stage. There have been groups that have targeted fresher’s week events. So education is important to cult recruiters? Groups don’t want weak people with nothing to contribute, it is clear that the more intelligent you are, the more likely you are to worry about things like the meaning of life. The average guy who works in a factory all week, gets paid on Friday, goes to the pub, watches the football, gets drunk with friends – you try and talk to him about the meaning of life and he won’t care. So it’s all about oldies and despondent students? Well, another area that is often very productive for these groups to recruit in is the 40-something woman, or man, who is going through a crisis about their lives. Maybe their kids have left home, they have no career – these people are very vulnerable. We have a whole range of groups that offer to teach things that people can make a living out of, for example people go to say, a yoga class, so they can start a little business teaching yoga, but then they find once they start they are invited to join a smaller inner group who end up telling them to leave their husbands or wives and move on and look for their spiritual higher self. What about psychics and mediums? Just look at Sky channels, or online psychics giving readings for payment. If you think about it, some of our best-known people have been very much involved with this stuff. Do you think having inane celebrities on TV whittering to mind readers about their dead pets is unhelpful? I think the problem comes when someone wants large sums of money for these services, or when they say, “Look, I have found out that you have some sort of evil spirit around you, but I can deal with it for £30,000.” It can be innocent, some of these people believe they are giving people comfort, telling them that their loved ones are still around or whatever. Frankly, when I am in bed with my wife, the last thing I want to think is that my grandmother is there too. What about the sexual motivations in these cases? Take, for example, a Christian priest who says to a rape victim, “You have been sexually abused. You have a demon inside you as a result of that and I have to get rid of it by sanctifying the demon’s entry point. I will do that by dipping my fingers in communion wine and inserting them into your vagina”. That, to me, crosses the line. I would agree. I have a file in my office of 400 letters written to a client of mine by a man who clearly enjoyed doing such things to her and getting her to do things to him. This was a vulnerable abused woman who ended up being more thoroughly abused. Some victims end up with psychological problems, some are even psychotic. Lots of people say things like, “Oh, they were obviously going to become schizophrenic anyway,” but in a lot of cases after they receive treatment they make a 100 per cent recovery. How often do you think those responsible actually get prosecuted? Is it hard to nail them? When the last Tory government was in, a solicitor I worked with went to the home office with me and we spoke about getting the law changed to aid prosecutions in these cases. We were told that the job was not to change the law but to use the laws we had in new ways. That is what we have been trying to do for the last 14 years, and we have been having great success. Our clients have been doing well but these cases are in civil courts. The problem is that if you go to the police and complain about a religious group, they will tell you to go and talk to the charity commission who will then tell you to go to the police, and the fact is that it is a merry-go-round and no one wants to take responsibility. Criminal prosecutions are very rare. Is that because the police are eager to avoid anything religious for fear of getting in trouble? I think that is part of it, but mainly we have a police system that is overstretched. They are inundated with paper work and are worried about their statistics. Even in traditional cases, unless they are relatively confident of a prosecution, they will not even take a report of the crime. We have become so politically correct that it is not enough to respect someone’s religion or beliefs, it is not possible to challenge them when they do something wrong. That is outrageous. • Words Terrence Towels Here’s some cults that you’ve probably never heard of before Wisconsin OAP Occult Killers Two bored pensioners were arrested in Wisconsin in the summer of 2001 after a prolonged campaign of Satanist cat abuse. Cats were found nailed to gates every day for two months. The pair were eventually captured after trying to nail a screaming kitten to a post-box outside the house of the local sheriff. The Institute of Honest Science A splinter group from the Church of Scientology, the Institute of Honest Science is unique in the history of cults in that it took no money, had no members and based its belief system on high-school science textbooks. The leader of the IHS was found floating face-down in the Potomac river after having been bankrupted by the Church of Scientology in a landmark legal ruling.Ivory Coast Witch Fuckers Witches tear communities apart in the Ivory Coast but in 1996 a group of vigilantes started a prolonged campaign of witch fucking in retaliation. If a well dried up in a village, they would turn up and fuck whichever girls looked funny. The local government has sanctioned witch fucking, but Amnesty has expressed concern that innocent local girls could end up getting fucked if they have an unbleached moustache or one tit bigger than the other. Mythological Mexican Mass Murder Clan The Black Hand of Infinite Death was a cannibalistic murder cult active in the 1980s. Their discovery, by detectives investigating the movements of notorious necro-hick Lee O’Tard, was unique in the history of crime investigation as they managed to pin every single unsolved murder in California over a 200 year period on this idiot and his imaginary cult. Order of the Puma Mostro A group of friends paid the ultimate price for cultism in 1999. Convinced that aliens were coming to carry them away to a better, cleaner planet, each cult member dressed in a Fruit of the Loom t-shirt bearing the slogan “I’m With Stupid”, Puma Mostro slip-on trainers and a pair of Levi’s Twisted jeans. They planned to enter the next life with dignity after dosing on Rohypnol. Unfortunately they were found in a heap by a cash point in Brixton with crowbar wounds to the head and torso. Church of the Poisoned Mind Boy George was a member of this dubious British cult. They believe in accusing fat comedians of bringing the name of gayness into disrepute whilst simultaneously beating the living hell out of a rentboy they have chained to their radiator. • Artwork James Unsworth Words Marek Steven Pictures Only Light Ornella Corazza researches and writes about near-death experiences. She thinks that we can all learn a lot from other people’s death trips FUN: A lot of the people you worked with had near-death experiences [NDEs] while on anaesthetic drugs. Ornella Corazza: Someone told me about this anaesthetic, ketamine, that could induce very profound near-death and out-of-body experiences. After reading Karl Jansen’s work on the subject I decided to drop my medical law training and come to London to do a PhD. Do drug-induced NDEs differ much from “natural” ones? I don’t think there are “natural” NDEs as such. Most experiences seem to have an obvious trigger circumstance, such as cardiac arrest, sensory deprivation or even meditation. My results showed a number of similarities, such as the sense of dying, leaving the body and entering other dimensions of reality, but also revealed some differences. For instance, people on drugs seemed to be less inclined to see “the light” and have encounters with deceased or religious beings. In the case of ketamine, these figures tend to be “unknown” entities. The drug users seem to be more likely to feel a cosmological sense of union with the universe. Why doesn’t that surprise me… Are people who have had NDEs less afraid of death? Yes, they usually are. They seem to be absolutely sure that death does not exist and that we are immortal. Great. So are there many cultural differences with near-death experiences? There are some. We know that an Indian person might be more likely to meet Yama the King of Death, or his messengers, the Yamdooths, rather than Christ or angels. In Japan, people often have a vision of a river, rather than a tunnel or a light. To cross that river means to accept death and thus to die. Have you had any hellish reports of the afterlife from anyone? Yes, I interviewed a person who had a very bad experience after an attempted suicide when he was 18. He was sure he went to hell and was trapped by three beings who tortured him. Several years later, he tried some ketamine while partying with friends, and had a positive experience. But he confirmed that the NDE and ketamine experiences are similar in many ways. The Tibetan Book of the Dead is full of references to hellish moments; why should a NDE always be blissful and positive? Are people always changed for the better after having one of these experiences? According to my study, although around half of the subjects in the ketamine group reported a diminished fear of death, they didn’t report other life-changing effects such as a more spiritual style of life, increased concern for others and the environment and a more caring and unselfish way of life, which are very often reported after an NDE. Are you trying to scientifically prove that there is an afterlife or “find” the soul? No. The value of these experiences goes far beyond the question of scientific proof of an afterlife and brings us to our immediate experience of the here and now and the sense of meaning and purpose that we may experience in this life. It also goes against the ‘reductionism’ view – the attempt to locate the soul or consciousness in the brain. Both of these theories fail to account for people’s ‘afterlife’ experiences when there is no actual physical death involved – as, for instance, in the ketamine cases. That makes sense. At a lecture of yours, a woman who had nearly died was very upset that you wouldn’t specifically admit there is an afterlife… Oh yeah, I remember that, it was animated. It’s a pity that these people nearly have to die in order to have such profound understandings about human nature. Four people talk about their near-death experiences “I gradually lost my senses. I tested myself by asking basic questions about mathematics, then suddenly I wasn’t interested. So I tried to concentrate on who I am. It wasn’t meaningful who I was anymore – even though I knew I existed. Visions become blurred and then I tried the experience of death. I was going down a tunnel. I saw the planet Earth. I understood that Earth is inside something else. I knew that all this is embraced within a system. I was nothing, but I knew that my place was on Earth.” “I travelled down into a tunnel at great speed. I entered a landscape of breathtaking beauty. I had a sensation of knowing the place, but also that it was in another space. I was accompanied by millions of beings, but I didn’t hear them or see them. I just knew they were with me. I felt joy of knowing we were all one. I was communicating with them by telepathic thoughts. We were all parts of a whole system. While there, I connected with the information of the entire universe. I knew everything and more.” “Reality as we normally experience it had crumbled into a different form. It was as though the world broke up, revealing another dimension. The world and I became one. It was certainly an extreme experience. I drifted through other dimensions from inside the cosmos towards the outside of the circular thing which is called the Universe. It sounds strange, but that’s what I felt. It wasn’t particularly fun and it dissociated me from my life, but I was satisfied. Afterwards I felt as content as I might do after a long adventure holiday.” “The first thing I remember was going very fast and leaving my body. Surprisingly it wasn’t very frightening. I saw a tunnel and a tiny little light which grew bigger and bigger. I was approaching this light when I heard a voice telling me to go back. I said, “Why? I don’t want to go back,” but there was no reply. A being of light appeared and wanted to show me something. A large screen also appeared and I saw Earth and the planets. I heard them breathing, touched the stars and talked to the Sun, which was God. I kept thinking how wonderful it all was.” • Words Germaine Arnold Picture Nicolás Mezzadri “There is only one Jesus Christ and that’s me” David Shayler was a former MI5 spook, who famously blew the whistle on some of the more suspect activities he witnessed at work, including a plot to assassinate Libyan leader Colonel Gadaffi and the phone tapping of several British MPs. While the British public love a whistleblower, the government were less pleased and eventually put him away for six months. After failing to beat Tony Blair in a local election, and scraping the barrel of his MI5 revelations, Shayler pretty much dropped off the radar. Now, a few years on, just when Shayler was in danger of slipping out of the public consciousness, he’s done a David Icke and proclaimed himself the Messiah. Add on a few outlandish 9/11 conspiracy theories and a huge helping of egotism, and you can imagine why he’s a pretty fun guy to hang out with FUN: So what makes you think there was a conspiracy on 9/11? David Shayler: There’s a great moment on 9/11 at 10 o’clock in the morning where you’ve got this missile headed towards Washington and if they bring that down on Capitol Hill or the White House, that’s it, it’s all over for world democracy. But that didn’t happen because the missile was shot down by the mainstream American military, who weren’t part of the plot and therefore they’ve always been on the backfoot since then. You think it could have been prevented then? I’ve obviously got a soft spot for 9/11 as I’m an ex-intelligence officer, so what I say is that if people had listened to me ten years ago, it would have been impossible to carry out 9/11. They could hardly knock down the twin towers and blame Al-Qaeda when I’d just said “Hang on, the intelligence services are backing these people.” I hear that you’re the Messiah? There is only one Messiah, there is only one Jesus Christ and that’s me. This is the only time I’m here now. What gave you that idea? I had my first glimpse in prison, I read the Bible to a prisoner who couldn’t read and it just started to open my eyes. Didn’t it cross your mind that you might be having a breakdown? Really, in a moment, I can remember when I became spiritual. I literally sat there at the end of 2004 and said I’m going to posit the idea that if you live in love, the universe is a good place and justice will come. I tried it and it worked, there’s no doubt about it, it worked almost immediately. Fair enough, but didn’t you take an awful lot of drugs to figure that out? I’m pretty sure I could think I was the Messiah or a fucking pink unicorn if I took enough hallucinogens. Yeah, at the end of 2006 I took part in a mushroom ceremony. Now, I don’t know if you know about taking magic mushrooms, but there are lots of encodings of mushroom cult in the New Testament, so clearly the New Testament is telling those in the know that you’ve got to take magic mushrooms. Really? We live in a society in which it’s obvious that Seroxat and Prozac are poisons, but they’re given to us by people who are trained medical professionals. And yet cannabis, which is a wonder drug, is banned. That’s the kind of arse about face world we live in. If you look at the research, there’s no evidence that magic mushrooms do any harm. In fact, quite the contrary – that they have positive beneficial health effects and give you all sorts of spiritual insights. How exactly do mushrooms give you spiritual insights? Strangely enough, the magic mushroom I was taking the day I became spiritual was called the Philosopher’s Stone and if you know about these things, it was always said that the Philosopher’s Stone would show the way to enlightenment. So I asked for a sign, and I get a kid dressed as Captain Scarlet, indestructible man, standing next to me. All these weird things like that. So if you’ve been reincarnated throughout history, who else have you been? Jesus’s soul has been incarnate in various human beings throughout history, people like Plato and Pythagoras, the Buddha, all sorts of Chinese emperors, Mark Anthony, a lot of English kings, Che Guevara… But weren’t you born two years before Che Guevara died? [carries on, oblivious] … Lawrence of Arabia, Ben Franklin, Percy Shelley, the romantic poet, William of Orange, and Saint Christopher Marlowe who wrote Shakespeare’s plays – so some of the greatest figures in history. No window cleaners or cheap hookers there, then. So what did you do after you realised you were the Messiah? Funnily enough, the first thing I did after my awakening was watch South Park. It was an episode of South Park where Jesus has to save the world. He can’t save it by himself so he has to call on people like Krishna and Buddha, who are obviously previous incarnations of the Jesus soul, to come and save humanity against the evil David Blaine who has special powers because he’s a magician and Jesus isn’t. It’s just this was my mission in a nutshell, in the first television programme I watched, so it was absolutely mad! Are you sure it’s not just you that’s mad? Usually when lots of mad stuff keeps happening to you it’s because you’re mad. People have said various things about me being crazy and stuff, but I am absolutely serious, and I have thought long and hard about it, that I am definitely God incarnated as a human being. People misinterpret that because they hear the God bit and they don’t hear the human being bit. The Messiah couldn’t come here as a puff of bloody smoke or a fully formed man. It wouldn’t work. What have you done with your newfound powers? I was up all night meditating to remove darkness from London, and the next day I went to see my friend and he said, “Did you see a bomb didn’t go off in London?” It had been a really curious night because the spirit had been keeping me up saying, “You’ve got to keep conscious, you’ve got to keep meditating.” People will say that this is a coincidence but I say in a divine plan there’s no such thing as coincidence. Have you performed any other miracles? One of the miracles I’ve performed was taking Middlesbrough to the UEFA Cup final. There was this moment at the end of the semi-final where I’m standing there in this stadium, I’ve just done this fantastically long meditation and it’s worked, and I cannot believe it, my universe has shifted. If that wasn’t a sign, I don’t know what the bloody hell was, to be honest. What would be your philosophies for FUN readers to live their lives by? I would say to you: “Forget the Ten Commandments.” They’ve become meaningless. The code to live by is first, love. If you truly give your unconditional love, then that means you’ve got to love all the time, you have to love everybody. Everybody? Yeah, believe me, this means you’ve got to love terrorists, you’ve got to love paedophiles, you’ve got to love your worst enemy. If you can do that, you will find that the world will work in your favour, because if you hate, you only add to the sum total of the hate in the universe, if you love, that’s the sum total of love. Okay, great. Can I just tell you that you’re one of the 144,000 who have been reincarnated from the past to help the Messiah, and you are actually a reincarnation of South Indian Emperor Cenguttuvan who lived in the 2nd century AD. Okay. Thanks David. • “This is Lucy, my manager. She does my shopping, even in the snow. She loves it, even at 76 with a bad knee and asthma. I’m never without milk and bread. She would attack me if I refused. Lucy’s a diamond, she’s sold more of my books than Foyles. Every cabbie in the area has a copy of Skins thanks to her.” “Tottenham Chris was in Skins. I met him when I was doing extra work, I think it was on a Carling Black Label ad when we were dressed as zombies.” “These girls are the Broken Hearts. It was like stepping back in time in there. Don’t try and get them up in the mornings though. I left my reflector at the house and had to pick it up early one morning. It took me 20 minutes to get them to answer the door and I was scared.” Words & PictureS Ben & Miriam Miriam and I went to a graveyard. I’m not going to tell you where it is because you’ll ruin it. It’s a HUGE place where all the cultures of the world mix (except the Muslims), like they have put aside all their earthly differences and found peace in death, blah blah blah. After wading through the usual tedious Jewish monoliths, we got to the Cypriot Orthodox bit. Those guys know how to do death! While the Catholic graves are all made of granite with “Mr Seamus O’Flaherty” chiseled on in a dull font, the Orthodox ones are technicolour and covered in the most amazing stuff you can imagine. We found SpongeBob SquarePants across the way from a bright blue wooden crucifix with a load of toy trucks shoved in the soil. The whole episode made us think a lot about the nature of monotheism and paganism, but not as much as I would have liked, because of Miriam’s incessant whining about her stupid relationship and her laughing really loud at my genocide joke in front of a large funeral. Turn over to see what we found Pretty standard hot girl with some angels, but boy were there a lot of angels SpongeBob SquarePants showed us the true meaning of dignity Imagine that cross is his arms Tigger + broken butterfly = poignant You can just about see a machine gun he’s holding in the bottom left. Maybe thats why he’s dead If we weren’t such a bunch of cheapskates, you could see how amazingly pink this was In some cultures, a little metal car pushed into soil is a portent of doom… But a hundred Tonka trucks is always a lucky charm A fun uncle Disney are suing the shit out of this kid The spiritual home of petrol station tat Words Ernesto + Julio Gallow BOOKENDED ARTWORK Antoine Bernhart How many people do you know who have heard someone being raped while they were taking acid? We know two people. So we got them together for a cup of tea and a slice of Battenburg cake to talk about it and share some feelings Ernesto: Tell me about your experience. Julio: I think we were about 17 at the time, 1998 or so. It was in the winter. We were at a friend’s house in Willesden. We used to go round there all the time and do acid and jump around his mum’s kitchen, skating in the front room. Most days we would just sit in the house and take acid and smoke weed. Can you remember which tabs you took? I think they might have been Simpsons ones. Marge Simpson. What did you do? We were in the kitchen. His mum’s room was above it; we used to steal weed off her when we were coming down. She’s a Buddhist – really spiritual. I bet. All Buddhists are very, very spiritual. She came down and accused us of being on speed because we were making too much noise and running around. It was about 2am I think. So my mate decided it would be a good idea to go to the local cemetery. By this point we had no idea what was going on. Some of us were just staring at leaves and cracking up. Did you used to go to that graveyard a lot? We used to skate in front of it. I had a favourite grave when I was young. It was this kid we knew who died of cot death. I used to sit on it tripping and smoking weed. The grave was white marble with a little duck on it. You knew someone that died of cot death? You couldn’t have had a mate that was a baby. I don’t get it. No, retard, their parents were friends with my parents. But obviously as I got older, the dead child didn’t. Because they were dead. Oh I see. Anyway, once we were there my mate was convinced that one of us was the devil and that we were going to take him into the church and sacrifice him. Was he scared? He was shitting it. Later on in life, he went on to do so much acid and pills that he had to leave the country because he thought everyone was a zombie. They were talking about him behind his back and plotting his death. Poor guy. So he was flipping out. We all ran around the churchyard in the freezing cold, jumping on tombs and trying to spook each other – sort of coming in and out of reality. Then we hear a woman screaming. We all think it’s in our heads at first, I guess. Did you stop jumping around? Yep. We could hear a woman screaming, “Help me, help me, rape, rape.” When did you start to take it seriously? When we all looked at each other and realised it was for real. Did you shut up? I think we all talked amongst ourselves about what we should do. What was her voice like? Paint me a picture. For some reason, I picture the woman as blonde, although we never saw her. Probably in her 20s. Did she sound scared or angry? Scared. So were we. What happened next? We all ran back to the house. In retrospect, I feel really bad about that. I bet. We could’ve saved a woman from having her life ruined. Shall I tell you about my experience? Please do. I had been awake for a few days and it was 4am. We lived next to a Nigerian nightclub. There were always fights outside and we kept telling them to shut the fuck up because they made our lives a misery. So sympathy levels were low. When they had fights, we used to just shout encouraging words out the window.Like what? Like, “Go on you fat African cunt, give it some,” and stuff like that. Ha ha ha ha ha. But this night there were a load of people talking in the car park. It sounded like an argument between a girl and a load of men, except she was saying, “You don’t have to do this,” and I was thinking, “Do what?” And then she started crying and laughing at the same time. Laughing? That’s strange. Nervous laughter. And they kept shouting at her. I reckon she thought she could diffuse the situation. Yours sounds like classic power stuff.Mine sounded a bit more like some twisted gang affair where she knew the guys. Mine was pretty standard. Standard rape. Then they must have gagged her or something because I just heard muffled noises and the men laughing. It sounds terrible. I realised that I had just been sitting motionless for about half an hour. Then, like you, I didn’t call the police. Because I’m a jerk That’s pretty bad. But I thought it was probably something else. Same here. Then, in the papers, there was this thing about an assault at that club. Do you still think about her a lot? Not really. Say yes, you dirtbag. Er, yes. For the past few days I have. I even spoke to my mate that was there that day about it. He remembered it vividly. If she’s reading this, what do you want to say to her? Sorry for being a little kid with no balls that didn’t stand up for you. Why do you think the guy was letting her scream so much? It was loud. He probably didn’t care. Jeez. God, this is depessing. Don’t give yourself a hard time. You didn’t do anything wrong. I know. Do you think the police would have got there in two minutes and stopped it? But we should have done something. It might have been a sex game. Maybe. Or some other kids tripping and pissing around. I never thought of that. I was just trying to make you feel better. It was probably exactly what you thought it was. • Words Marek StevenPICTURES Mimi Leung All aboard the Death Bus Dimethyltryptamine [DMT] is a naturally occurring chemical that exists in small quantities in the human brain. Why it’s in our heads is still a mystery. Some people think it’s there to be released into the brain of foetuses and dying people to move the soul from the afterlife. It sounds crazy but loads of people have discovered that taking DMT as a drug really does transport you to other dimensions. This is a guide to taking DMT and visiting these places How to take it DMT has to be smoked. It tastes like plastic. If you don’t get enough of a hit in the first 30 seconds, you have to wait at least an hour before trying again. Look for DMT of the smokeable freebase variety. It’s basically psychedelic crack. Get ready Find a quiet spot and dim the lights. Darkness will help you to leave the physical dimension. Make sure you have at least one non-idiot friend there to look after you. They will need to grab the bowl you’re smoking when you drop it, then shut up and not watch telly or do anything annoying. Sit back and put on a late 90s Electric Wizard record. Uh oh! You will start to feel spacey and disconnected. A buzzing sound will rise to an incredible intensity. It sounds like the universe being torn apart. Pretty soon it will make no difference if you keep your eyes open or not. Your friends will be revealed as see-through and holographic. The walls will disappear into complex geometric patterns that morph around the environment each time you take a breath. The ultimate trip The room you are in will break apart into a spiral of mind-frying fractals and then collapse into a tiny dot. This dot will explode into a tunnel of a billion insane colours that you never knew existed. You are now moving at light speed into a different level of existence. Just like the last 20 minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Crystal castle Around this time you will see various symbols that look Egyptian or Mayan. They represent entry points to different dimensions. Once you see these you are close to breaking through. If you don’t do quite enough DMT or you don’t do it right you might only make it this far. You will feel like you are inside a really cool dome with living crystal walls. Body holiday If you break through completely it will only take a minute from the start of the trip. Your ego will quickly be forgotten. Congratulations, you are now a part of the intergalactic information network. At this point you may realise that your “self” is somewhere else on earth. You may freak out and think you have died or that you have stopped breathing because your internal clock has slowed down greatly. Ewok party So you’re in the DMT dimension, which is exactly like the best sci-fi movies and fantasy literature. You will now experience the following: Sense of transcending time or space Strange plants A universe of vibration and light Peculiar machines and buildings Alien music Bizarre languages Intelligent entities in a variety of forms Telepathic communication No fucking way! There is no way that what you are experiencing at this point of the trip is a hallucination. You know that the crazy beings and cosmic structures are real. They are way too detailed and intelligent to have come from your own paltry imagination. This is a non-human reality existing at a deeper level than the physical world. You will realise that death does not exist. And what changes without death? There’s no such thing as time. Elves Various little beings will instantly be drawn to you and start poking you, jumping into and out of your chest, showing you amazing objects or trying to telepathically impart truths. It’s really important to not be too amazed but just to try and pay attention and take it all in. Those elves are a common first encounter and they never say anything interesting. Hallmark Other, more serious, beings will ignore you as they can tell you are an intruder. Perhaps a wise, benevolent spirit will guide you and impart some incredible truths about existence. They like to use the time they have with you to try and send some really helpful information back to earth, like “life is merely a game of precious moments to be experienced” or that “everything is going to be OK”. Exciting creatures So what are these beings? Maybe they’re ancient souls, gods or the masters of the universe. They could simply be humans between lives, or inter-dimensional aliens. Whatever they are, they look weird. They might have a triangle for a head, or seem mechanical. Sexy space time A friend of ours had an erotic encounter with a robot witch. Twice. Sexy stuff is surprisingly common, but as you would expect, it’s pretty different. In this place you will, for the first time, feel direct emotions coming from outside you. Imagine that. You CAN’T. Irritation So it’s good fun that these beings want to play, teach you and show you amazing things, but they will get irritable and bored if you are too slow. Trying to impose your own ideas, like you might with your friends on acid, is likely to annoy them. Some of these guys give off bad vibes straight away. If you sense evil at any point then trust your instincts and go somewhere else. Capes with pentagrams You’ll be feeling at home now, with some heavy duty “we all are one” vibes. This is your new reality. Your most stressful worldly worries seem insignificant. When you come back down you will start wearing capes and dream-catchers and growing your hair out, which is what everyone’s doing anyway, so it’s fine. Re-entry Starting to think about where your body is means that you are near the end. Worrying will only shorten the good bit and prolong the re-entry process. At the same time you don’t want to get too comfy up there. If you do you will surely die, which is not cool. After what feels like eternity – about 10 minutes real-time – the visions will subside. Like waking from a dream, memory is fleeting so maybe grab a dictaphone or get your friend to film you on their mobile and put it up on YouTube where your dignity can be preserved for eternity. Shut up Words can’t convey what you will experience in DMT land. Few people will have had a similar experience so you will appear crazy if you talk about it. Best to not unless you want to end up in the nut hatch. What have we learnt? Your life and actions are part of some insane cosmic plan and yet, at the same time, entirely insignificant. You may become a more pleasant person, appreciating every little precious moment as part of a mammoth universal consciousness. Or you may become even more self-absorbed than you are already, with the unattractive addition of going on and on about fractals and fucking pixies. • How to take it DMT has to be smoked. It tastes like plastic. If you don’t get enough of a hit in the first 30 seconds, you have to wait at least an hour before trying again. Look for DMT of the smokeable freebase variety. It’s basically psychedelic crack. Get ready Find a quiet spot and dim the lights. Darkness will help you to leave the physical dimension. Make sure you have at least one non-idiot friend there to look after you. They will need to grab the bowl you’re smoking when you drop it, then shut up and not watch telly or do anything annoying. Sit back and put on a late 90s Electric Wizard record. Uh oh! You will start to feel spacey and disconnected. A buzzing sound will rise to an incredible intensity. It sounds like the universe being torn apart. Pretty soon it will make no difference if you keep your eyes open or not. Your friends will be revealed as see-through and holographic. The walls will disappear into complex geometric patterns that morph around the environment each time you take a breath. The ultimate trip The room you are in will break apart into a spiral of mind-frying fractals and then collapse into a tiny dot. This dot will explode into a tunnel of a billion insane colours that you never knew existed. You are now moving at light speed into a different level of existence. Just like the last 20 minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Crystal castle Around this time you will see various symbols that look Egyptian or Mayan. They represent entry points to different dimensions. Once you see these you are close to breaking through. If you don’t do quite enough DMT or you don’t do it right you might only make it this far. You will feel like you are inside a really cool dome with living crystal walls. Body holiday If you break through completely it will only take a minute from the start of the trip. Your ego will quickly be forgotten. Congratulations, you are now a part of the intergalactic information network. At this point you may realise that your “self” is somewhere else on earth. You may freak out and think you have died or that you have stopped breathing because your internal clock has slowed down greatly. Ewok party So you’re in the DMT dimension, which is exactly like the best sci-fi movies and fantasy literature. You will now experience the following: Sense of transcending time or space Strange plants A universe of vibration and light Peculiar machines and buildings Alien music Bizarre languages Intelligent entities in a variety of forms Telepathic communication No fucking way! There is no way that what you are experiencing at this point of the trip is a hallucination. You know that the crazy beings and cosmic structures are real. They are way too detailed and intelligent to have come from your own paltry imagination. This is a non-human reality existing at a deeper level than the physical world. You will realise that death does not exist. And what changes without death? There’s no such thing as time. Elves Various little beings will instantly be drawn to you and start poking you, jumping into and out of your chest, showing you amazing objects or trying to telepathically impart truths. It’s really important to not be too amazed but just to try and pay attention and take it all in. Those elves are a common first encounter and they never say anything interesting. Hallmark Other, more serious, beings will ignore you as they can tell you are an intruder. Perhaps a wise, benevolent spirit will guide you and impart some incredible truths about existence. They like to use the time they have with you to try and send some really helpful information back to earth, like “life is merely a game of precious moments to be experienced” or that “everything is going to be OK”. Exciting creatures So what are these beings? Maybe they’re ancient souls, gods or the masters of the universe. They could simply be humans between lives, or inter-dimensional aliens. Whatever they are, they look weird. They might have a triangle for a head, or seem mechanical. Sexy space time A friend of ours had an erotic encounter with a robot witch. Twice. Sexy stuff is surprisingly common, but as you would expect, it’s pretty different. In this place you will, for the first time, feel direct emotions coming from outside you. Imagine that. You CAN’T. Irritation So it’s good fun that these beings want to play, teach you and show you amazing things, but they will get irritable and bored if you are too slow. Trying to impose your own ideas, like you might with your friends on acid, is likely to annoy them. Some of these guys give off bad vibes straight away. If you sense evil at any point then trust your instincts and go somewhere else. Capes with pentagrams You’ll be feeling at home now, with some heavy duty “we all are one” vibes. This is your new reality. Your most stressful worldly worries seem insignificant. When you come back down you will start wearing capes and dream-catchers and growing your hair out, which is what everyone’s doing anyway, so it’s fine. Re-entry Starting to think about where your body is means that you are near the end. Worrying will only shorten the good bit and prolong the re-entry process. At the same time you don’t want to get too comfy up there. If you do you will surely die, which is not cool. After what feels like eternity – about 10 minutes real-time – the visions will subside. Like waking from a dream, memory is fleeting so maybe grab a dictaphone or get your friend to film you on their mobile and put it up on YouTube where your dignity can be preserved for eternity. Shut up Words can’t convey what you will experience in DMT land. Few people will have had a similar experience so you will appear crazy if you talk about it. Best to not unless you want to end up in the nut hatch. What have we learnt? Your life and actions are part of some insane cosmic plan and yet, at the same time, entirely insignificant. You may become a more pleasant person, appreciating every little precious moment as part of a mammoth universal consciousness. Or you may become even more self-absorbed than you are already, with the unattractive addition of going on and on about fractals and fucking pixies. • artwork Philip Best Get the new Consumer Electronics album Crowd Pleaser from philipbest.blogspot.com “Hand to Mouth” “Cockpit 1” Words Dan Lewis PICTURES FUN archive The term ‘acid fascism’ detonates like a semantic cluster bomb, conjuring images of goat-headed psychedelic Nazis peeling babies, and sounding fabulously ominous “Acid fascism” was coined by journalist David Felton in 1972 to describe quasi-religious, leader-based communities and cults appearing across America in the aftermath of the sixties acid revolution. For a Rolling Stone article, Felton gained entry to Mel Lyman’s Fort Hill commune in Boston. He observed a messianic dictatorship, sealed off from society’s influence, where Lyman’s teachings were enforced by a violent “Karma Squad”. These teachings were delivered by the living embodiment of truth, the greatest man in the world, Jesus Christ, and an alien, depending on his mood. A prophet, folk musician, one time hippie and cult leader, Lyman was a man of many talents. He was deranged, yet he could always rely on unhinged and disgruntled counterculture leftovers for recruits.  he sixties were the site of a transformation in consciousness on all levels – culturally, politically, psychologically and spiritually. Subversion wasn’t confined to the Haight-Ashbury and LSD. The revolt against orthodoxies was everywhere. London produced its own craziness in the form of “deviant psychotherapy cult,” the Process Church of the Final Judgement. Started by two Scientology drop-outs using the theories of pioneering psychoanalyst Albert Adler and therapeutic techniques lifted from L Ron Hubbard’s training sessions, it went from therapy cult to full blown Satanic church during the course of the sixties. They travelled to the US on occasions in predatory bids to swell their ranks with disillusioned hippies – allegedly coming into contact with Charles Manson just days before the Sharon Tate murder. Consciousness expansion was pursed through many avenues, all as mystically seductive to practitioners as the chemically induced enlightenment of LSD. Psychotherapy was a recent and revelatory discovery in the sixties. Embraced as a sort of western spiritualism, it fitted perfectly with the popular eastern wisdom traditions. Results of insight-orientated therapy were perceived as magical – people couldn’t believe their speed and efficiency. For a minute it looked like a fast-track to spiritual enlightenment, with or without drugs. Needless to say, people got stupid with it immediately. If you were thinking about starting a cult, it was a perfect time for recruiting members. You would think there’d be more mention of murderous fascist hippies, really. Blissed-out peaceniks one minute, staving someone’s face in with an axe handle the next while a dude with a God complex fucks your wife and takes your money for a seat on the salvation spaceship. It’s definitely more anti-establishment than John Lennon tickling his plate-faced Moomin’s rude bits in bed for a week. How did we get from peace and love to fuck you and die in such a short space of time? The whole hippie ideology was balanced on stupidities dressed as truths. Believing you can live, en masse, in a first-world economy – with no money – skimming off society’s excess forever, is not revolutionary, it is drug-fuck retarded. Claiming to reject capitalism and the Protestant work ethic, while living as a citizen of the richest nation on earth, in a period of unequalled economic abundance, is not transcending materialism, it is just denial.  n his book, The Mass Psychology of Fascism, eccentric psychoanalyst, mystic, all round genius and big orgasm fan, Wilhelm Reich explains fascism as “metaphysical thinking, unorthodox faith, obsession with abstract ethical ideals and the belief in the divine predestination of the führer.” Minus a führer, the hippie cake was pretty much baked. Taking its cues from pre-religious mysticism, arcane eastern philosophy and the plastic shamanism of self-appointed gurus of the “new age” of consciousness, like Timothy Leary and Ken Kesey, acid culture could only qualify itself in metaphysical terms. It had no choice, otherwise it just amounted to loads of kids getting really fucked up – not, as Leary claimed, spiritually enlightened people practicing “mystical hedonic” rites. Like Nazism, acid culture was littered with pseudoscience, biological metaphysics and mysticism, weaving disparate ideas into a loosely cohesive whole. Hippies and Nazis, while antithetical as movements, ran some uncanny parallels. Hitler was wet for all sorts of oriental mysticism, astrology, Germanic mythology and occultism. Then there was the SS. Heinrich Himmler based the “SS cult” around his own religion. In Satan and the Swastika, Francis King describes SS indoctrination: “After a lengthy quasi-mystical novitiate, SS recruits were obliged to attend neo-pagan ceremonies of a specifically SS religion devised by Himmler himself and clearly derived from his interests in occultism and the worship of Woden.” Both represent utopian projects, one centred on the mystical psychedelic experience, the other on eugenic theory. One preached peace and love while really pursuing power and domination through the manufacture of a subversive culture distinct from the mainstream, the other was driven to destroy the Jews and dominate the world in the name of creating a luscious heaven populated by ample-breasted Aryan milkmaids. Different but the same, see? Well, they were steeped in mysticism and, no matter how different, thought it was their job to transform human life, in their view, for the better. The problem with personal epiphanies resulting from therapy is that any doctor-patient relationship, in a non-clinical setting, can morph into something akin to sorcerer and apprentice. Things get odd, quickly – it’s here psychotherapy was most susceptible to cultic misappropriation. You couldn’t throw a stick in the late 60s without hitting a nutter. With a little chutzpah, a pinch of analysis and some cod-psychotherapy, any one of them could achieve his most eccentric, exploitative and manipulative desires. You didn’t even have to be particularly talented. Acid addled hippies fell into your path like lambs to the slaughter and the next thing you knew you’re the leader of a psychotherapy cult. Bosh, all hail you. Fill in the blanks as your numbers grow – happened all the time. This was acid fascism in action. A counter-counterculture. Hippies were just the public persona, the fluffy, non-threatening tip of a big and very freaky iceberg. • “The Manson family preached peace and love and went around killing people. We don’t preach peace and love” Jim Kweskin, The Karma Squad Acid-fried arts & crafts with Charlie Manson! Those woolen insects over there used to belong to the celebrated cult leader and convicted mass murderer, Charles Manson. He made them while locked up in San Quentin Prison in 1986 These days they sit on the piano in the front room of my friend and colleague Andy Capper. He bought them off somebody who lives on the internet early last year FUN: So these are a scorpion and a Black Widow made by Charles Manson? Don’t you feel bad about giving money to a man whose gang killed a bunch of people, including a pregnant woman? Andy Capper: Nope. None of the money went to Manson Where did it go? To shadowy private collectors. Some of them are people like Dave Navarro and the guy from Korn. I have more of a problem, morally, with people like that getting my money than Charlie. I hear that he’s in a really bad way at the moment, locked up in solitary confinement in Corcoran Prison. He’s not allowed to make psychedelic scorpions any more. How did he make them? Out of the darn in his socks and pipe cleaners, while he was in San Quentin prison. It was more relaxed there than Corcoran. Do you like Manson or scorpions or wool? Or all three? Are these things a perfect marriage of your interests? I’ve been interested in Manson and true crime for years. I used to be a court reporter and would sit there for hours finding out what happens in the criminal underworld. I “like” what he represents, which is a product of the American penal system and the backstreets, alleyways and garbage cans coming back to bite America on the nose. Did he only make insects? Or did he branch out? He made scorpions, spiders and glow in the dark string creatures. There are lots of paintings. They’re all like acid-fried visions of varying quality. How much did the scorpion cost? I’m not telling you! What I will say is that I like it because of the colours and how it represents the dark side of psychedelia, which is the most interesting part. I like listening to Love and the Elevators a lot more than I do Traffic or Strawberry Alarm Clock. I guess Manson would count as one of the darkest corners of psychedelia. He brainwashed a gang of runaways with acid and speed. Every night they’d dance nude in the desert. Daily acid orgies and rituals. We make sexy acid party. I don’t how sexy it would be really. Acid never really had an aphrodisiac effect on me. Plus I think his parties would be naked dirty tripping hippies. I don’t know what the running water situation was there up on the Spahn Ranch. Cole [Alexander from Black Lips] told me he met some guy who used to hang out with Charlie and that one night they were walking across the desert, all on acid, and somebody trod on a scorpion, killing it. So Charlie shot the guy who did it and they buried him in the desert. • When I was two, I stayed in a holiday home in Dorset that the locals said was haunted. My dad thought this was bullshit but he kept finding me awake in my cot talking to thin air. Then my mum saw an old woman in the reflection of the mirror behind her when she was getting out of the bath. Like in The Shining. When I was five, on Halloween, I had a dream where a green cyclops witch sat next to my bed, put her face really close up to mine, and screamed. I remember waking up the MOST AFRAID I HAVE EVER BEEN. When I was eight at primary school there was a rumour that the previous music teacher had died at the school and haunted the music room. My mum teaches there and says that’s bullshit but when some older boys pushed me in there and turned the lights out and held the door shut I swear I felt AN ICY HAND touch my shoulder. I spent the rest of the afternoon breathing into a paper bag in the nurse’s office. When I was nine, I became obsessed by two things. The first was being killed by household bleach. I washed my hands obsessively like Lady Macbeth in case any got on me, for hours at a time. I also got superstitious about touching wood after talking about something I didn’t want to happen, so I began to walk around with a bit of wood to touch in my pocket in case I had a negative thought. One time I went on a boat with my dad and I had to hide a bit of wood in my glove so that I could have actual skin contact with wood whenever one of these thoughts occurred. It got out of hand and I was sent to see a psychiatrist. When I was ten, I started boarding at a school and one night I absolutely swear two of my dorm-mates and I saw a UFO out of the skylight. It was a cigar shaped thing that glowed a bit and had lights on it. I still talk to one of the other boys who saw that and we are sure that it wasn’t of this earth. When I was thirteen I met the first man who I ever met who died. He was a monk who attended my school in the 20s or something. He did a big talk on how things at the school had changed. I spoke to him, then a few days later he died. I dreamt about him afterwards because it scared the crap out of me that someone I had spoken to was now on a slab somewhere rotting. When I was sixteen I had a girlfriend who lived in this house that appears in haunted guides to Britain – there was supposed to be a highwayman who hung out in the living room. I had to stay in a separate room and one night I heard old English talking coming from downstairs. When I was eighteen I started getting flashbacks from taking pills, but I didn’t recognise them as that, and just thought I was getting visions from God. I would see locusts buzzing around peoples’ heads and I was pretty sure they were marked for death. When I was nineteen, I had one of those MDMA blackouts and the next day I felt so bad I was wondering what I could worry about, so I thought, maybe I could worry that I might be gay? I’m not, but my brain decided to worry about it full time for about three months. I got so scared that people were trying to turn me gay it developed into anyone gay probably wants to make me gay, then kill me, then I just thought everyone was going to kill me. When I was twenty, I went to a mental home because of when I was nineteen and it turned out that no one was hot like in Girl, Interrupted. Mainly it was scary middle-aged women. One woman told me that a firetruck full of napalm had been driven into Waterloo station and that my father was dead, another walked around the building like a ghost, not saying anything. I found her skidmarked underwear in my room, she was naked, hiding in my bathroom. It was like being haunted by a living person. Honourable mentions also go to the public school boy who had nearly killed his dad and got visited by God, and the OCD goth who had issues with pooing. When I was twenty-three my grandfather died. A few nights later I had a dream where he took me to the house I was going to own in the future because I was worried about failing in life. He was smoking Marlboro Reds, which was a bit shit because they weren’t his brand. • Words Chantal Feduchin-Pate What do you think of when you hear the word ‘mundane’? Your entire life? In the zodiac community, Mundane Astrology is a branch of astral spiritualism that deals with the astrology of countries and world events. It turns out that stuff like wars, terrorism and the current economic shit-show are all conveniently explained for us by the sun, moon and stars Let’s put this idea to the test. Get your country, event, whatever. Work out when they were “born” i.e. founded or declared independent. Work out their star sign and you’re away. Let’s start with the two countries that nearly turned everything into radioactive dust. The USA and Russia. Taurus and Cancer, respectively. They should get along zodiac-wise, yet deep down they despise each other. Why? One major problem area is that they tend to make important decisions while Mercury is in retrograde, which is the worst possible time to do anything. Mercury goes into retrograde about three times a year, and when it does, all business and communication goes haywire. Contracts become void, agreements are forgotten, relationships destroyed. Guess when the Cuban missile crisis happened? Exactly. However Reagan, being a Hollywood type, was obviously into this new age shit. He studied up and every time he met with Gorbachev, Mercury was on the straight and narrow so they could shake hands for all those pictures. What about us? England was born December 25, 1066, conveniently sharing its birthday with Jesus, with whom it also shares a contrived sense of humble arrogance and self-pity. Our long term friend/foe France, was born September 21, 1792, making it Virgo. These are both girlie Earth signs. The two countries should be bosom buddies, giving each other makeovers, self-loathing over their thighs and crying over rom-coms. Instead, their relationship is that of two middle-aged prostitutes, both past their prime, nitpicking over each other’s fading relevance. It’s all in the stars, of course. England is ruled by Saturn – solid, reliable, yet slightly dull. Meanwhile, France is ruled by Chiron, which is a fucking comet – seemingly transient and difficult to take seriously, but annoyingly kinda cool. Then there’s the leaders. Gordon Brown is celestially a friend to England, yet a bit distant. Which seems about right. Meanwhile, Sarkozy is an Aquarius, which just happens to be the complete opposite to both England and France’s signs. As such he’s essentially cosmically inclined to hate both his country and ours. Shouldn’t this shit be on voting forms? Belarus & Ecuador (Leo/Gemini) Like a pimp in the city and his number one client who comes in from the ’burbs once a month, the desperate need these two have for each other is matched only by their mutual disrespect and disgust. Lebanon & Cameroon (Sagittarius/Capricorn) The motto for this relationship could be, “Always in love, always together,” if “love” was “a co-dependent fear of the future” and “together” was “in separate corners, weeping”. Estonia & Philippines (Pisces/Taurus) If there was a Nations Big Brother, this would be the kind of bland for-the-cameras affair that culminates in a lazy, half-finished blowjob under a duvet while some gay tosser listens in. Fiji & Sierra Leone (Libra/Aries) Started out all lovey-dovey and “We don’t celebrate it ’cos every day is Valentine’s Day for us!”, swiftly devolved into uncovered acne and taking a shit in the bathroom while the other brushes their teeth. Gabon & Brazil (Leo/Virgo) This relationship resembles a hate crime, wrapped in a restraining order in a rape box under the stairs. Canada & Uzbekistan (Cancer/Scorpio) These two are totes BFFs! When Uzbekistan pukes, Canada holds her hair back. When Canada needs some cash, Uzbekistan turns tricks. And if Uzbekistan ever gets pissed at another country, Canada will defs invade it, dispose of the leader and ethnic cleanse the shit out of it. Then text Uzbeks the pic, obvs. Nepal & Malaysia (Sagittarius/Virgo) If Nepal is the popular, charming, funny guy at the party, Malaysia is the girl he sorta wanted to fuck at the start of the night before she got her self-harm scars out and tried to mouth a condom onto his flaccid penis in the middle of poker. Liechtenstein & Sri Lanka (Capricorn/Aquarius) A strong bond here. Like a 48-stone woman’s flesh and the couch it’s slowly grafting onto after three years of not moving, they smell like excrement and are decaying from the inside out, but you can’t pry them apart! Yemen & Panama (Gemini/Scorpio) It started out platonic, but after one glue-sniffing-fuelled night they realised theirs was a classic dominant/submissive pup-play romance. Haiti & Vatican City (Capricorn/Aquarius) Remember when your mother told you not to talk to strangers? ’Cos you might end up as their bound and hog-tied sex-slave, re-named “Canned Meat” and smothered daily in PVA glue and the feathers of still-born mallards, all the while being whipped with fire-hoses and forced to scream the words to Alphaville’s “Forever Young” before drowning in the inevitable bukkake-fest that you now call dinner? This relationship is what she was talking about. BLACK VINYL HOLE Andrew Hartwell W hen I was old enough to make my own decisions about what I wanted to listen to, I gravitated towards Iron Maiden and their zombie poster boy Eddie, leering out from the LP sleeves in Our Price. I accumulated a tape of Killers by Iron Maiden and a matching T-shirt that I always wore. Sure, I liked Kiss as well, but I soon branched further afield and into Venom, Metallica, Motorhead: dirty bands of brigands living on the edge of the law, a beer in one hand and a guitar in the other. Or at least that’s how it seemed to me. When thrash really hit I was totally in awe of Nuclear Assault and the crossover scene of bands like DRI, which in turn got me more into punk and hardcore: Napalm Death, Deviated Instinct and Heresy. There was always a real “us and them” attitude to this music. Sandal-wearing tree-huggers were not to be trusted.  omewhere along the line though, you have these moments when you are forced to reconsider your opinions, when everything you hold as truth is shattered and falls in pieces around you. Such a moment hit me like a well-aimed rock. That megalith was Standing Stone by Oliver. It was an after hours appreciation session at Rough Trade in Covent Garden in 1995, so I’d been set in my ways for years. I heard a bizarre guitar sound phasing in and out, weird guttural vocals. The Butthole Surfers sprung to mind – there was definitely some druggy similarity to the sounds. But no, it was Oliver and his “lost classic” album Standing Stone. I was enjoying an album recorded by a part-time farmhand in a barn in Wales, near a standing stone, in 1974. You could almost hear the flares… the horror. I’ve since come to terms with the fact that the album is a thing of genius, a milestone in that very British genre: acid folk. As well as some damn fine guitar playing (distinctly obvious that Oliver was a big fan of Robert Johnson), there are some great songs, exquisite noises and hilarious druggy lyrics. When Johnson moaned about hellhounds, they were creations of fire and brimstone. In Oliver’s case, I suspect LSD may have been the root problem. Lysergic cosmic beasts chasing him back from the pub on a Saturday night… It’s all so very hippy, you can smell the damp woolen sweaters, but it’s so damn good. As with all truly great albums, the back-story is equally amazing and yet more proof of the hippy credentials on offer here. If the title itself and track names like “Getting Fruity”, “Flowers on a Hill” and “Where’s my Motorbike” don’t set your hippy receptors twitching then the term “lost classic” should. Pulling himself together sufficiently to record his songs on a portable four track in his parents’ barn (hence his cry “What’s this chicken doing in my way?” in one song), his brother, a BBC sound engineer, came to his aid, got the tracks out of the Welsh wilderness and mixed them. They then made a private pressing as an LP limited to 250 copies and gave them to friends. There was an error in the printing and it came out looking wrong. After that, Oliver lost interest and went travelling round Europe. By the time he came back everyone had forgotten all about it until the mid 90s when a small-run LP version came out, followed by the CD on the Wooden Hill imprint. Jesus, I sound like a hippy now. It’s too late for me. I am wearing Birkenstocks as I write this. I even have some Grateful Dead records, but if you aren’t afraid of becoming one with the enemy, or if you already have an interest in acid folk, then seek out Oliver and his marvellous Standing Stone. Now, where did I put my self-respect? • Other far out freakery that you need to hear: Surprieze “Zeer Oude Klanken En Heel Nieuwe Geluiden” This record gets weirder until you reach the epic 19-minute track “Lazarus”. Howling, medieval woodwind and echo-drenched three-string guitar collide and fuck your brain. Eddy van Der Meer (Mr Surprieze) was so pissed off after a bad review that he got on his bike with the leftovers from the private pressing and threw them all in the North Sea. Genius. Andwella’s Dream “Andwella’s Dream” 1969 psychedelic rock from Northern Ireland of all places. This has some real pop moments too, but the inclusion of the track “Cocaine” and its attempt to duplicate narcosis with the medium of stereo panning will soon distract you. There’s also a curious oriental vibe, but God alone knows why. You can pick this up on a vinyl reissue pretty easily. Yvette Mimieux & Ustad Ali Akbar Khan “Flowers of Evil” When you have had enough of being a Hollywood B-movie actress in 1968, what better way than by teaming up with a maestro of the sitar and singing the grim poetry of Baudelaire over the top? I had never heard of her before and it looks like her career went down the toilet. It’s a great record – fairly straight but the entire enterprise is so deranged and addictive that it deserves your time. GURU REVIEWS Prancehall Maharishi Mahesh Yogi You will probably know Maharishi Mahesh Yogi – who looks a bit like an elderly, less psychotically deranged version of frizzle-haired baddie Lo Pan from Big Trouble in Little China – as the inventor of transcendental meditation. But his greatest achievement, in my opinion, was curing Howard Stern’s mother from depression. Managing to roust Mrs Stern from a neurotic brain dolor, knowing the horrific creature that had tumbled forth from her womb, is probably the most puzzlingly amazing achievement in the history of mankind since the virgin birth of Jesus. But Yogi wasn’t as perfect as many of his followers would like to remember. He was known to have a wondering eye and a wondering pair of healing hands. In fact, John Lennon wrote the song “Sexy Sadie” about Yogi’s alleged sexual advances on Mia Farrow while she was on a teacher-training course in Rishikesh, India. Benjamin Creme This esoteric and deranged Scot believes that the second coming prophesied by many religions will come in the form of Maitreya, the Master of all the Masters and “avatar for the Aquarian Age”–a time of peace, plenty and perfect equality. The tubby old loon also believes in the existence of “Ascended Masters” – a group of perfected individuals who live in a dimension that hovers over the Gobi Desert, where delicious Scotch whisky flows from golden taps and deep-fried Mars bars grow on trees. Creme claims he was contacted by one of the Masters and told that Maitreya would return, and in 1982 he placed advertisements in newspapers around the world saying, “The Christ is now here.” arbling Irish rocker Van Morrison – who, remember, was at one point obsessed with that well-known beacon of truth, Scientology – attended several of Benjamin Creme’s public talks in London in the 80s and wrote a number of songs about his teachings, including “The Master’s Eyes”. Sathya Sai Baba It’s not just hovering dimensions that Creme believes in. He also postulates that Indian guru Sathya Sai Baba is even more holy than the Ascended Masters because he is a “Descended Master” from the star Sirius, and therefore has a level of initiation equal to Christ himself. This godman, who looks like Gary Coleman today, if he had kept the afro (and was Indian), claims to be able to produce gold necklaces out of thin air. The 83-year-old also encourages celibacy after the age of 50, but has been known to enjoy rubbing oil on the genitals of his followers. There are 1,200 Sathya Sai Baba centres in 114 countries and he has an estimated six million dedicated followers worldwide, including crooning ex-army toff James Blunt. Contrary to popular belief, “You’re Beautiful” wasn’t written about Blunt’s childhood pony or one of the more attractive family slaves, but was in fact an ode to the mind of Sai Baba. Guru from Gang Starr The best and most wise guru has to be Gang Starr’s Guru – a backronym that stands for both “Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal” and, my personal favourite, “God is Universal, he is the Ruler Universal”. With ingeniously catchy and un-awkward reverse acronyms like this, I think it’s pretty obvious just how much God-given wisdom Guru has. Guru is the guru with by far the most songs written about him – mostly because he has written them all himself. Like Sathya Sai Baba, Guru has millions of followers worldwide who buy his albums to listen to his nuggets of wisdom on topics such as guns and bitches. One of his best-known disciples is Boston rapper Mr. Lif who cites Guru as a major stylistic influence. It seems his supreme enlightenment momentarily deserted him when he decided to work with both Craig David and Jamiroquai though. COMICS Jessica Penfold Karl Marx used to tell this story: “Once upon a time there was a weary peasant. He had been walking for days when he got to a rich land BARON’s mansion. He saw that the door was open and walked in. He had just started to make himself comfortable when the owner came home. ‘What are you doing in my house?’ said the owner. ‘What makes it your house?’ Said the peasant. ‘Well,’ said the land owner, ‘my ancestors fought for the land, and they passed it on to me. So it’s mine.’ ‘OK,’ said the peasant, ‘I’ll fight you for it!’” But he never told the end of the tale. This is what happened next: The peasant was skinny and weak from his shitty diet, and when the land owner set about him, he was no match. He kept pounding and pounding until the peasant’s ugly little nose was busted up, blood poured out of his split lips and he passed out. ‘Now,’ said the landowner, ‘Get out of my house, you filthy little cunt. And next time you want something in life, try working for it.’ THE FUN OFFICE HAS MOVED TO THE CITY. We get paid obscene bonuses. Our swollen portfolios are dwarved only by our massive endowments. We are powerful. You are weak. MEN WANT TO BE US, WOMEN WANT TO BE WITH US. We dominate in the bedroom and the boardroom. FUN is now floated on the stock market. Our NASDAQ code is FUK-U and we’re not paying any dividends, so stop whining and get the fuck out of our way before we KILL you. Issue 5, July 2010 POWER All content © FUN magazine 2010 Electronic brand omnipresence:www.greatenjoyment.com The opinions expressed are cherished by the publishers and editorial team. Other titles from the FUN publishing stable: • Fixed-Gear Cuntsniff • You and Your Stupid Bum-Fluff Fucking Paedo Moustache • Pretending You Used To Be Into Hardcore Monthly • Identikit Ray-Bans Wearer • Wearing Cut-Off Denim Shorts and • Gay Little White Shoes Weekly • The Clogging Up London Like A Pointless Necrotising Bacterium Review • Vintage Digestive • The Journal of Appearing to Have An Interesting Job Whereas In Reality You Are A Runner For A Fucking Advertising Company Or Some Bollocks EDITOR Ben Freeman ASSOCIATE EDITOR Deano Jo PUBLISHER Real Gold INTERN Attilia Fattori Assistants Grace MiceliAaron Jolly Gemma Louise Wilson Jamie Reid PICTURES Anna-Faye Gillespie Chris Wright Craptical Dan Price Gavin Watson Josh Murr Neil Edwards Nicolás Mezzadri Russell Taysom SUB-EDITOR John McDonnell DESIGN PIXIES Lynsey Atkin Edward Quarmby WORDS Aaron Jolly Ben Freeman Boyd Rice Bruno Bayley Chantal Feduchin-Pate Gavin Haynes Grace Miceli John McDonnell Kara Simsek Lali Cienfuegos Miriam & Ezra Elia Spiritual Advisor Ed Petrie off of CBBC Examine some tasteful photographs of ripped Russell Taysom at www.russelltaysom.co.uk. He flexes for cold hard cash Bruno Bayley is a testosterone- fuelled Titan Russian-American Chantal Feduchin Pate is the bad girl wrestler the crowds love to hate Gavin Haynes is the South African Mr Universe who all the girls want to get with Seven days a week of training won’t worry Anna-Faye Gillespie. She’s been doing this since birthKing of the inclined press, Boyd Rice has earned much recognition for his firm pecs and outstanding traps Lali Cienfuegos lives in Peru, bulking up on a high- protein diet of earthworms and llama milk At a mere 18, Josh Murr has got the body-building world all of a fluster with his Olympic-standard snatch Neil Edwards can bicep curl his own body-weight At a mere 18, Josh Murr has got the body-building world all of a fluster with his Olympic-standard snatch Miriam and Ezra Elia are a musclebound twosome who have shot to fame in the brother-sister powerlifting competitions West Country beefcake Chris Wright can carry a haystack on each shoulder Ryan Riss has been using the stage name Craptical since he won the 2007 Seattle Automobile Lifting Championship title Contact Nicolás Mezzadri on his private line, nicomezzadri@hotmail.com, and he might just put on a show for you Don’t try to steal Kara Simsek’s protein shake or she’ll take your arm right off John McDonnell mastered the deadlift during a spell in prison. He told us: “Yep. These days I live to lift.” Letters Hello shitbags! Thanks for all your boring letters, tiresome PR pitches and rubbish illustration and photography portfolios. We did, however, receive a copy of this little beauty: Dear Sir or Madam, I am writing to request that you remove the free publication FUN from your stores. As you are aware (but your staff were not, until I showed them the book), this magazine contains pornographic and sadomasochistic images. Written pieces make reference to the rape of young girls as punishment for being suspected witches, reference to taking drugs and sex with dogs. There are pictures of naked children accompanied by violent comment and what may or may not be the charred corpse of a baby on one page being held up by a black rubber-gloved hand, the offensive content goes on. I popped into your shop yesterday to get some leggings for my daughter. I saw what I thought was the preview book for your coming collection and I took one from the counter; the front cover of a young man pulling tongues gave no indication of what wretched content lay within. I flicked through the book and was confronted by the sight of a rubber-masked young woman in her bra, kneeling behind a dog wearing a strap-on penis, she was holding the animal’s tail up in one hand and the dog’s ear in the other. My first instinct was to ask myself , why would a successful outlet such as XXXXXX aimed towards teenagers and young adults want to be associated with such a publication, what credibility, image, aspirational perceptions are you intending to gain by having this book on your premises and giving it to your customers? I feel that I have enough life experience to pass judgment on this book. It takes all kinds to make the world go round, and for those that do not care enough, that is their mantra. I am from Toxteth, I lived in the tenaments, everyone was poor but us. My dad was a charge hand electrician and he had a car. He was black and suffered discrimination on every level. I was known as a “little paki” because I am half-caste (sorry, mixed race). I did not know who I should support, the blacks or the whites, when the two groups caused riots in the late 60s early 70s, so I stood and watched while people got their heads bashed in instead. On Thursdays, us little kids would wait for Mr Jones to return from the docks drunk, he’d fall into the house and we would wait for Mrs Jones to start screaming. We would run away laughing while he chased her out of the house with a knife. We observed her regular black eyes. At the age of about nine I stood on the veranda of our second-floor flat and watched as Mrs McHale attempted to boot the door down on her inlaws house while screaming, “Come out you dirty bast.....d, I’m gonna kill you.” I learned later my friend was being sexually abused by her grandfather. I then watched the demise of this girl as I grew up. I continued with my happy life while she sank deeper and deeper into the heroin trap. In my late twenties I saw her again, skeletal, grey, pockmarked and without a tooth in her head. She tried to collect her daughter from school one day and the child ran screaming, terrified, with the teaching staff trying to catch her. My brother tried to teach one boy who lived by us French. He was a nice kid although he talked and walked like a girl. We were all shocked when he hung himself at 16. We heard our mothers talking over the wall that he had done it because he was “queer”. My point is if you want sex violence depravity it’s there for you in real life for some. Only the privileged few (I’m not inferring class [yes you are – Ed.] will appreciate the satirical nature of this publication because they have not experienced what it truly means. I am not some middle-class liberal championing a cause or going through a healing process! I am just sick to the back teeth of liberals thinking they own the world and they can do what they want, be as rebellious as they please, completely exploit the right to free expression and have no worries about “paying the piper” because their value system does not include being accountable to anyone or any god because they do not have one – they are too busy worshiping themselves. I have been advised that the legality of this publication and its distribution comes under the Obscene Publications Act and the police will also liaise with the Trading Standards Authority and the Advertising Standards Authority to ensure the safety of minors, and if nothing else, encourage you and your company to think more carefully in future. Most sincerely, Eleanor Beaufort [NOT HER REAL NAME] BUT! Then we found out that Eleanor Beaufort was in fact the aunt of one of our beloved contributors, and not a random member of the public at all! This is a super long text message she sent him: XXXX i saw the book u sent poppy 4 her bday. I wasnt shocked as i know that it is a reflectn of the world u now liv in an that any attntion seeking talentles inadeqt cud draw upon the subject matr to get published in som free handout. But why wud u want ur litl cusin exposed to this. Are u so narsasistic that she should c u in print no matr wot it is? An why wud u want ur family to know that this is the measure of ur sucess? Hav u sent one to jane? Wot about a momento for tom? John cudnt ansa my questions he wants to show you how creativ he can b wid his hands. So i turned to the wisest person i know my mum and i expland to her. An when she had calmed down she gav her opinion. So i think il go along the lines u keep u fucking warped world to urself and dont giv me anymore reasons to accuse u of influencing my daughter otherwise il take pictures after ive finished with u an i guarantee theyll b grusome enough to make the front pgs of more than some free shit rag. Eleanor. HAVE YOUR THINKFREEDOM OF EXPRESSION OR CHRISTIAN VALUES AS demonstrated HERE BY ELEANOR BEAUFORT? WHAT DO YOU THINK? Join the debate at: www.greatenjoyment.com/no-one-gives-a-fuck-what-you-think Hey! If you have something to share with us, why not write?hiya@greatenjoyment.com WHY I OUGHTA...!!! Attempts to steal our mighty brand Hands off, Family Guy! Go and be unfunny somewhere else. Pictures Neil Edwards A FUN reader threatetened to firebomb this ad agency for thieving our schtick. We got a call from the police but it was totally worth it. In today’s world, power is greatly disdained due to the fact that it is little understood. People are envious of that which they cannot possess, and contemptuous of that which they cannot understand. Therefore, power remains a much-despised principle. The poor imagine that power is a cudgel wielded by the wealthy to keep them impoverished. Those weak in mind and spirit imagine that their sorry states are due to the fact that power is being withheld from them. Bullshit. Someone once said that “most people don’t know what they want or how to get it. Those who do, must act.” This is as simple and basic an appraisal of power as you’re likely to find. Most imagine power to be some external condition toward which they aspire. They imagine that power is only manifested in the realms of politics, ideology or belief. Nonsense. Power emanates from within. It is an internal impulse manifested in the external world. It is the point at which desire and reality intersect, becoming one with one another. Sounds simplistic, right? It is – or should be. A great many people confuse power with control: the ability to control the thoughts, beliefs and actions of others. For such types, the fundamental precondition for changing their lives is to first change the world. How misguided is that? Is it a formula that has ever worked for anyone whatsoever? Obviously not. The confusion of power with control has lead to an irrational fear of power. We’ve all heard the popular maxim that “absolute power corrupts absolutely”, yet the sentiment is illogical. Power is not synonymous with corruption. The attributes of power are the antithesis of all that is corrupt, weak and cowardly. True power has to do with inner-strength, self-determination, and the interface between instinct and intellect. Those who possess such attributes have no need or desire to control others. Those who lack such attributes are well chronicled in the history books. Twenty-some years ago, I stated that “the strong dominate the weak, and the clever dominate the strong”. I stand by that statement; it is as true today as it was 20, 200 or 2,000 years ago. It is not an abstraction, a theory or an ideology. It is a fundamental truth. It is power in practice. Show me a situation in which that is not the case, and I will show you an example of social engineering over-riding the principles of life on earth. That simple catchphrase encapsulated my view of the Darwinian manner in which life operates. It was deemed “Social Darwinism” and was dismissed by many as a bizarre/fascist philosophy. But wait. In order for that principle to operate, no one has to impose it. There is no need for a social programme that empowers the strong and disenfranchises the weak; the details of their lives are already an emanation of their innate strengths and weaknesses. Their character. The clever seem to flourish and dimwits seem to flounder. Who’d have guessed? At the end of the day, power is so mistrusted by so many because it remains the sole domain of the few. This needn’t be the case. Power is yours for the taking. You don’t have to chase after it or reach out for it, merely exercise it. Of course, it goes without saying that the lion’s share of the populace will never possess power. They never have and never will. Power is the sole possessor of those who recognise it and understand it. Those who manifest it.• Words Grace Miceli Roid Rage The top 10 steroid-induced murders of all time 1 CHRIS BENOIT THE CANADIAN CRIPPLER BOUND HIS WIFE’S HANDS AND FEET AND ASPHYXIATED HER HIS SEVEN YEAR OLD SON WHO WAS A DWARF WAS FOUND DEAD IN HIS BED CHRIS PLACED A BIBLE NEXT TO EACH LIFELESS BODY BEFORE HANGING HIMSELF WITH A CABLE FROM A WEIGHT MACHINE IN HIS HOME GYM THE BODIES WERE DISCOVERED AFTER BENOIT SENT SOME CURIOUS TEXT MESSAGES ONE SUNDAY MORNING TO THE WWE JAMIE 2 FULLER JAMIE FULLER WAS A SHY BOY WHO STARTED TAKING STEROIDS AT THE AGE OF 14 HE GOT MAD WHEN HE FOUND OUT THAT HIS GIRLFRIEND WAS HANGING OUT WITH ANOTHER GUY SO HE LURED HER INTO THE WOODS AND STABBED HER IN THE BACK AND SLIT HER THROAT HE WENT TO JAIL FOR LIFE WHILE IN JAIL HIS MOTHER ATTEMPTED TO PLOT HIS ESCAPE SHE’S IN JAIL NOW TOO WAY TO GO MOM 3 BRUCE NADLER BRUCE NADLER SHOT HIMSELF AND HIS WIFE IN AN APPARENT MURDER-SUICIDE NADLER WAS THE WORLD’S STRONGEST PLASTIC SURGEON HE WAS THE BEST KNOWN COSMETIC SURGEON FOR AMATEUR AND PROFESSIONAL BODYBUILDERS HE WROTE A BOOK TOO IT WAS CALLED THE NIP/TUCK WORKOUT HE LOST HIS MEDICAL LICENCE WHEN HE PRESCRIBED STEROIDS TO A COP THE NEIGHBOURS SAID THAT THEY SEEMED LIKE SUCH A NORMAL COUPLE 4 DAVID JACOBS DAVID JACOBS KILLED HIS FITNESS MODEL GIRLFRIEND AMANDA JO EARHART-SAVELL AND THEN TURNED THE GUN ON HIMSELF THEY WERE FOUND IN HIS TEXAS HOME WHERE HE MIXED RAW MATERIALS IMPORTED FROM CHINA INTO POTENT STEROIDS THAT HE SOLD TO NFL PLAYERS JACOBS USED TO BE AN AMATEUR BODYBUILDER AND BEFORE THAT HE USED TO BE KIND OF FAT 5 ROBERT SEPE ROBERT SEPE OWNER OF HEALTHY ’N FIT BEAT HIS GIRLFRIEND JANET CARLUCCI WITH A METAL BASEBALL BAT SO BRUTALLY THAT SHE HAD TO BE IDENTIFIED THROUGH HER DENTAL RECORDS HE DID THIS BECAUSE CARLUCCI WOULD NOT CANCEL PLANS IN ORDER TO HOST EASTER DINNER SEPE CLAIMED THAT HE SUFFERED FROM EXTREME EMOTIONAL DISTURBANCE BEFORE THE ATTACK IT TOOK THE COPS FIVE HOURS TO ARREST SEPE BECAUSE HE WAS WAVING A KNIFE AROUND AND THREATENING TO JUMP OFF OF A BRIDGE 6 LOREN WADE LOREN WADE SHOT AND KILLED HIS FORMER TEAMMATE AMERICAN FOOTBALL PLAYER BRANDON FALKNER OUTSIDE OF A NIGHTCLUB BECAUSE WADE SAW HIM TALKING TO HIS GIRLFRIEND WADE HAS A HISTORY OF VIOLENT BEHAVIOUR TOWARDS WOMEN WADE SAID THAT HE ONLY MEANT TO HIT FALKNER IN THE FACE WITH THE GUN AND NOT TO SHOOT HIM WHOOPS 7 JUSTIN LEVENS JUSTIN LEVENS SHOT HIS WIFE SARAH WITH A BULLET THAT PENETRATED HER HEART AND THEN HE SHOT HIMSELF IN THE HEAD THE DEAD BODIES SAT IN THEIR BEACHSIDE CONDOMINIUM FOR A FEW DAYS BEFORE THEY WERE FOUND ACCORDING TO HIS BIOGRAPHY ON THE UFC WEBSITE LEVENS LEARNED HOW TO FIGHT GROWING UP AS A SURVIVAL TOOL HIS NICKNAME WAS THE EXECUTIONER 8 BERTIL FOX BERTIL FOX SHOT AND KILLED HIS FORMER GIRLFRIEND MODEL LEYOCA BROWN AND HER MOTHER VIOLET IN A DRESS SHOP FOX SAID THAT THE MURDERS WERE AN ACCIDENT BUT HIS FRIEND SAID THAT FOX TOLD HIM THAT HE STARTED SHOOTING WHEN THE OLD LADY TRIED TO PUSH HIM OUT THE DOOR AND HE GOT MAD SO HE KILLED THEM 9 GORDON KIMBROUGH GORDON KIMBROUGH WRAPPED AN ELECTRICAL CORD AROUND HIS FIANCÉE’S NECK AND STABBED HER TWICE IN THE THROAT WITH A PARING KNIFE BECAUSE SHE HAD SEX WITH ANOTHER MAN GORDON SPENT THE NIGHT WITH HER CORPSE AND TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF BY INJECTING LYSOL INTO HIS NECK WHEN THE POLICE SHOWED UP KIMBROUGH SAID “SHE FOUND SOMEONE ELSE ANOTHER GUY” NOW HE IS A PERSONAL TRAINER WORKING WITH CLIENTS OVER THE PHONE FROM HIS PRISON CELL 10 CRAIG TITUS CRAIG TITUS MURDERED MELISSA JAMES WITH THE HELP OF HIS WIFE KELLY RYAN THEY KIDNAPPED HER AND STRANGLED HER AND THEN PLACED HER BODY IN A JAGUAR ON ROUTE 160 AND SET THE CAR ON FIRE THE COUPLE SAID THAT MELISSA STOLE THEIR MONEY AND THE JAGUAR MELISSA’S MOTHER SAID THAT SHE WAS SO SWEET AND BEAUTIFUL THE PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE GURU Words Miriam & Ezra Elia Pictures Russell Taysom GRAMS Wind chimes and sitars Guru: Greetings children of the light. The inner void is life-giving. Over the next few lessons, we will go on a journey, my children – a journey to the Hishanka spirit, which dwells in the innermost sanctuary of the temple of Shimra, goddess of passive aggression. Yes ,my children, in today’s lesson we will learn of the sacred and nourishing power of being a complete cock and getting away with it. Come here, sweet disciple. Disciple: Yes, master. Guru: I want you to know something: you are a very special person indeed. Disciple: Thank you, Oh wise guru. Guru: So special, but I find myself overwhelmed by the glory of your presence. And I must ask you to go away… for a long time. Disciple: How long would you like me to leave for? Guru: Just leave me alone. Disciple: OK then, master. [tearful] Bye then, master. Door closes Door opens Guru: Disciple, come back! For this was only a demonstration of the sacred force of passive aggression. Disciple:Oh! I understand, master! Guru: Wield it wisely, and you will be strong. Disciple: Oh thank you, master. Guru: Now go away. Disciple:Yes, master. Guru: Now come back. Disciple: Yes, master. Guru: Do not talk, your words are like a cold breeze on a summer’s day – unneeded. So children, we learn that you must always show affection before destroying someone’s self-esteem. The more you appear to love and listen to them, the more complete will be their annihilation. Disciple, is this the poem you wrote that glorifies the Hishanka life force? Disciple: Yes guru. Guru: I feel this is your best work so far. Disciple: Thank you guru. Guru: It touches my soul and raises me up to the divine height of the Hishanka Mooko. Disciple: Thank you, kind guru. Guru: In fact my only criticism, if there was anything negative to say about any work so divine and glorious in its conception, it is that I wrote something much better on the same subject in January last year. Disciple: That you, master. Guru: I feel perhaps it is best you burn it, or I may be forced to sue you for copyright infringement. The secret to passive aggression lies in the outward display of a calm, gentle vulnerability. You must always talk about your feelings, never your thoughts. Remember, friends, opinions may be contradicted, but feelings are invulnerable. Disciple, I feel that you should not wear those trousers with that shirt in the future, for they cast the Hishanka force into conflict with the inner Hoomooram of bad fashion sense. Disciple: But master, I can afford no new clothes. Guru: Disciple, your problems are causing your guru great inner pain. Disciple: I am profoundly ashamed master [sobs slightly]. Guru: Do not cry, for it makes me feel worse. And so our journey of knowledge comes to its conclusion. Goodbye, my friends, and in our next lesson we shall learn the infinite unpredictability of Hishanka divine numbers, in relation to usury and tax fraud. • Words Apricotte Gold OI! Take a moment to listen to this chap we met in a pub FUN: Hi Albert. What’s the best bit of hooliganism you’ve ever done? Albert: A long time ago, in 1967, Millwall were in the old division one, and they were playing Wolverhampton Wanderers. Millwall was winning 1-0 with minutes to go, and Derek Dougan, who played for Northern Ireland alongside George Best, was up front. He fouled the keeper, got the ball in the net and scored the goal to equalise. I was so mad! All the crowd was going crazy. I was standing near where all the Wolverhampton supporters were. I run on the pitch, the police were chasing me, Derek Dougan come towards me, he bent down to embrace me, as if I was a Wolverhampton supporter. The crowd was all booing. Then, as soon as I reached him, I kicked him up the nuts and I punched him in the jaw. All the police all jumped on me, the crowd started cheering, and I ended up being carted off down Deptford nick. Wowsers. That was my claim to fame. Bag of dry roasted please. • ONES TO WATCH Every year we trot out the same tired bullshit about some recent graduates who are supposedly going to take over the world, who then invariably go on to total obscurity. Here’s our pick for 2010!!! THIS IS IT! We arrive in Totteridge, north London, to meet, according to my sources, the most exciting young person in the world right now. We find him in bed, looking like a tramp with his unshaven face and hair that he can’t afford to get cut. He says to the photographer, ‘Take your time, I’ve got fuck all planned all week. I mean seriously, pull up a chair. Want a beer? There’s some in my mum’s fridge. Don’t touch that bit of old pork, it’s my tea.’ The photographer looks unimpressed. He calls me afterwards wanting to know “who was that feckless twat that I had to photograph today?”. “That feckless twat” is Deano Jo, 24, the publisher of FUN magazine (www.greatenjoyment.com), an urban style bible that launched two years ago. A Bobby Davro for the YouTube generation, Deano is currently on bail after trying to touch up the FUN magazine intern, Attilia Fattori. Deano takes me to a Wimpy on Totteridge High Street, and I’m getting bored to tears while he tries to impress me with his pseudo-futurology predictions. “Kids now can use email and that,” he says. “They’re going to be even more different in ten years. If you haven’t got your own branded range of streetwear, you’ll get raped in the toilets at school by the other kids. And the teachers will follow you home and give your parents a kicking if you haven’t remixed a single by The XX. Trust me, it’s going to happen.” Just as I’m drifting into a coma, he starts wittering about Google. “It’s important that people can Google your name,” he tells me. I point out that anything is Googleable. He stops talking and starts pulling scabs out of his hair. Deano made his name in 2003, organising discos at his school. “It just came naturally to me,” he confides. “Well, the hall was free and I got my mates’ band to play. And attendance was compulsory, so it all kind of blew up really. Next thing you know, I had 42 kids in a hall, binge- drinking like they didn’t have a care in the world. Success just seems to flow through me.” Although you wouldn’t have guessed it in a gazillion years, Deano is from a rich family. There you were, thinking that this tale had all the hallmarks of a lowly salt-of-the-earth family upbringing, a mining community perhaps, or a father in the building trade. But no. “Actually, my parents are like really, really poor after they lost the estate when BCCI went under in the 80s.” Luckily for Deano, he somehow still has a massive trust fund so he can swan around doing whatever he pleases with nary a consequence. A stroke of entrepreneurial genius saw him knocking up fake Palestinian scarves in a sweat shop in Harlesden, then punting them out with a massive mark up at a ‘Stop Bombing Gaza’ demonstration in London. “That was a great day. I made a killing. Ideological people are fucking gullible.” Last November, as the credit crunch bit, Deano sweet-talked his mum into lending him fifty pounds. That fifty pounds became issue one of FUN magazine. Next up? A club likethe Groucho in Lewisham. “It’s going to be next level. Anthony Gormley’s son said he might come for a drink at some point. There’s going to be a hi-fi. Internet. Coffee machine. The fucking lot.” And what does the future hold for this shining example of humanity? All he knows is that: “Sometimes you have to pinch yourself and say, ‘This is fucking retarded, you are a total waste of skin. You need to get a proper job and stop talking delusional bollocks.’ But that’s a bit too much effort. Can I borrow a fiver?” WOW ZINEThe next day we met up with Tarara Parma-Pupps in her bijou apartment located in trendy Broadway Market, London. The photographer turns up slightly late having been distracted by all of the market stalls and shops in the area, selling everything from depressing Czech black and white films about lesbian suicide pacts to organic spelt rolls filled with fresh cuts of still-screaming white veal. We ring the doorbell and Tarara comes out to greet us. She looks as stunning in real life as she does when pictured on the showbiz pages of the London freesheets, elegantly falling out of a club with a tousled rock god on her arm. We are led upstairs to her tardis-like studio. From the street it looked like any number of recent chic housing developments in the gentrified area, but inside it seems to stretch for miles, with nothing but plain white wall and wooden floorboard as far as the eye can see. She hands each of us a pair of knitted Tibetan slippers and we start our long journey to the living area. We make ourselves at home as Tarara produces a screen-printed tote bag. She reaches in and pulls out a copy of her latest project: a “zine” that she is launching next year. “I’m planning on printing ten copies. Advance orders are through the roof,” she explains. We listen patiently as she explains the concept behind the publication; apparently there are no words, just images that reflect her complex and fascinating thought processes. Polaroid photos, sketches, found objects. I ask her about her latest art venture. She has started an art cooperative with a group of like minded friends from her degree course at Central St Martins. They squatted an old day care centre recently and tried to put on a multimedia exhibition. “We didn’t have anything to put in the exhibition,” she explains, “so we made that the subject of the show. You know, the lack of inspiration, oppressive demands for production in a hegemonic society. It was really liberating.” To top it all off, no one turned up. “That was perfect,” she says. “It validated everything we were trying to say. A group of curators who live in a squat in Peckham are writing a book about it now.” What am I doing with my life? Why am I sitting in this spoilt cunt’s stupid fucking apartment listening to her wank on about literally nothing, just so I can file 500 words of measly copy to an editor who won’t even read it, to sub-editors who will piss themselves laughing at the sheer brass-necked futility of it all? They are probably placing bets as to when exactly I will put my head in a fucking oven and just end it all while they correct my many syntactical errors. Having completely lost the will to live and with nary a clichéd hyperbole left to finish this utter waste of ink, I just get up and leave. Tarara calls after me, but by the time I reach the door everyone has forgotten that I was ever there. Seriously, fuck you. Fuck you for even reading this. Words Si Kofanticprick ART Pictures Craptical Words Chantal Feduchin Pate Picture Chris Wright Anorexia SUXXX Stop undoing the good work of the suffragettes and start eating Growing up in the 90s, there was one illness that was defs the most popular girl at Disease High. Countless talk shows dedicated to it, endless magazine articles about some poor skinny white girl who just couldn’t find the gumption to eat a cracker. We were all told how horrible this disease was, the mountain one had to climb to get out of the pit of anorexia. I was made to feel sorry for these girls, all young, rich and white, for they deserved my sympathy. When they would break down in tears over their inability to digest – how they would syringe stomach fluid from themselves to lose an extra few pounds, how even a glass of water filled them with paralysing fear – we were near enough told to break down in tears with them. But after years of this pity parade I realised something: I don’t care about anorexics. I never have and I never will. And here’s why you shouldn’t either. We’re often told that the reason these poor anorexics exist is because of the media and the male gaze forcing them to feel bad about themselves thanks to images of perfection they can’t possibly replicate pushing them into a downward spiral of self-hate and, inevitably, starvation. It’s the fashion magazines and celebrity culture and Kate Moss blah blah blah. However, anorexia has been around way before the media got involved.People think anorexia is a fairly new disease. Alongside AIDS it’s probably the most 80s of diseases. Whenever I think of anorexia, I picture it in a ra-ra skirt and a scrunchie. But anorexia is proper old-school, it’s been around for centuries; there’s records of it back in the 1500s. They called it “fasting”, but whatever – it was young girls starving themselves to death. That’s anorexia, right? Even Mary Queen of Scots was anorexic (the first celebrity case! Take that, Karen Carpenter!) and she had access to more food than anyone in the world. The doctor who coined the jazzy term “anorexia nervosa” was Queen Victoria’s personal physician way back in 1873, and lest we forget this was a time when men wanted to pork girls who were porkers. Skinny girls weren’t getting any action, it was all about the plump pussy. Furthermore, these girls weren’t inundated with airbrushed perfection from the media, there were no Olsen twins making them feel bad about themselves or catwalk models screaming from the pages of a glossy magazine that the gap between their thighs should be substantial enough for a widescreen telly to pass through. Yet, these pioneers of skinny were insane with a desire to abstain. So what was the reason behind it if not crazy pressure to stay thin from the evil of tyranny of men? Well, back then it was pinned on good old “hysteria”. It wasn’t that these women wanted to stay thin to look hot in mini-skirt, they simply lost their minds a bit. Fast-forward to when anorexia really took flight – in the late 70s/early 80s and not much had changed. One could argue that this was right when media and celebrity culture was exploding, so therefore it MUST be correlated. But more important than the media and celebrities (if there is anything more important) was the women’s lib movement. Just when women were getting all the shit they’d been begging for, like rights and liberty and equal pay, it seems they started feeling bad about themselves. Up until this point, women simply looked how men told them to look. Men liked women in skirts with red lips or whatever, the girls went along with it, and with the exception of these few “hysterical” women, everything was cool. But just when they got freedom, just when women were being told, “Hey! You can do what you want! Dress how you like!” just when all the power they claimed they’d wanted for so long finally started falling in their pretty little laps, they lost their minds. Like Spiderman said: with great power comes great responsibility. Alas, it was too much power for some girls; these weaklings couldn’t take having to open doors for themselves, pay for their own shit and get a job without giving the boss a blowie in the interview. Thanks to women’s emancipation, they were no longer required to obsess over getting a man and having children, so instead they just became obsessed with themselves. Weight became a major issue for ladies with power, and the richer and more powerful the lady, the more likely she was to be obsessed with her weight. Ever notice you never meet an anorexic on a council estate? That’s because these girls have proper problems to deal with, like not taking crack before their 10th birthday and getting to school without being molested by an alcoholic uncle or two. But head over to the rich kids’ hood and they’re ten a penny – they have the time and money needed to not eat. White, wealthy girls have more opportunities than women ever had before – all the power their grandmothers fought for, all the money their power-dressing mothers made for them in the 80s, and they’re the ones “suffering”. It may be pressure but it’s not from the media or from celebrities or models – it’s from themselves. The power’s gone to their head and they don’t know what to do with it. It’s led them to the same place those Victorian girls were: hysteria. And the problem with female hysteria is that it always means one thing to men: women can’t control themselves. Herein lies my point, these women who are slowly killing themselves are not walking advertisements for the sad state of our celeb-obsessed culture and what media saturation has done to women. Rather, they are walking advertisements for women’s innate weakness and inability to process power. By starving themselves, they are actually starving humanity of any hope of gender equality. I can already hear men asking themselves: “If these matchstick girls can’t even eat properly – surely the most basic of human skills – despite having all the money and freedom they could ask for, what hope have the rest of womanhood? If the girls on top are breaking down like this, how the hell would the girls at the bottom of the ladder possibly manage? Man, maybe we were wrong to give them all that stuff they asked for. I mean sure, we got them to buy that bit about casual sex being empowering, and that’s been awesome and all, but this is getting out of hand now. I guess they can’t handle it after all.” Give it time and what little power all those suffragettes and bra-burners fought for will slowly be taken away again as it becomes more and more clear that girls can’t take care of themselves like they said they could. Pretty soon we’ll be back to bone-crushing corsets, disenfranchisement and married with kids by 18 with no future beyond housework heaven. All because these pathetic girls couldn’t eat a fucking celery stick without having to work out for six hours afterwards. So screw the anorexics, they’re ruining it for the rest of us. Put simply, in the immortal words of George Carlin, “Somehow I can’t feel sorry for an anorexic, you know? Rich cunt, don’t wanna eat? Fuck her.” Too fucking right • “Rich cunt, don’t wanna eat? Fuck her.” HUMAN LEOPARD SOCIETIES If you go up to an African tomorrow and whisper “human leopards!” in their ear, they may well jump ten feet in the air. That’s because human leopard societies were groups of men in Africa who dressed up as leopards, killed people and often ate them for good measure. We spoke to Professor Stephen Ellis about this strange and elusive practice. Stephen is the former editor of African Affairs, and knows way more than the internet about homicidal men in catsuits. FUN: Where did the human leopard thing start? Professor Steven Ellis: Human leopard societies were widespread in parts of Africa which are densely forested. In other words, where there used to be a lot of leopards. These days leopards are quite rare, but 50 years ago if you were growing up in a village in a forested area of Africa, then one of the factors you were brought up with was the presence of dangerous wild animals. So what were leopard societies? Criminal gangs or religious cults? I would call them power groups. In Africa, until colonial times, with the exception of Muslim areas, there was no written law. There was no writing. Which is not to say that there was no concept of right and wrong. You also had a lot of areas in Africa without central governments of the sort that we Europeans have regarded, for the last few hundred years, as completely normal. In all the rainforest areas – Congo, Cameroon, southern Nigeria, Liberia, Guinea and so on – you had communities of this sort. Within these hunting communities there was the idea, and still is, that animals have spirits. Humans have spirits that animate us, and animals have the same, particularly the “higher” animals – elephants, leopards, lions. So when you are engaged in something like hunting, or even if you are just walking through a forest, you have to be aware of this. If you are hunting, it’s not just a case of shooting the nearest animal and killing it; you need to stalk it and be aware of its spiritual power. OK – the idea that animals have spirits doesn’t seem too far removed from modern beliefs. How does that spiritual belief give rise to these violent societies? It is believed possible that the spirit of an animal can enter a human. For a time, your normal spirit takes a back seat and another takes over your body. You typically find this in spirit possession and trance, which are very common religious experiences in Africa. Go to any African church or religious service today you will see people going into a trance. That is because another spirit is taking them over. It’s just that if they are Christian churches they will almost certainly be possessed by the Holy Spirit. In the past, when people lived closer to nature, you could have a human body animated by the spirit of a wild animal. That is what a leopard society was: a group of people who periodically were possessed by the spirits of the most dangerous animal they knew, the leopard. Did they welcome this sort of possession? The places where this was most common were also the areas where there was no writing, so it’s quite hard to know for sure how things worked. But the leopard is a very powerful animal – cunning, dangerous, formidable and a symbol of power in all the places where they live. In Congo, President Mobutu always wore a leopard skin hat. Liberian warlord Charles Taylor used to wear a leopard skin. It is a traditional symbol of political power, like lions in British heraldry. In these communities without courts, aristocracies, or central government, powerful men were regarded as leopard-like. This was partly just an observation saying they are powerful. Power itself has no moral value; power is just power. But we attach moral value to it according to what it is used for. So you may judge a powerful person, a politician let’s say, as good or bad based on what they do and your interpretation of what they do. But power can be used for good or bad, and it can be hard to distinguish. Power is always morally ambiguous. Bear that in mind. These senior men formed groups that could become leopard societies. Of course, if you are a senior man, and are confident and ambitious enough, you would want to join one of these exclusive leopard societies. Once you were in the society, then occasionally one, or several, of the members would be possessed by the spirit of a leopard, and when you are possessed by a leopard spirit you become very, very dangerous. You might do all kinds of things that leopards do – like killing people. So they went into a sort of trance and killed humans purely because they were behaving like leopards? The killing was not random. When a leopard society was active, some members would actually dress as leopards. If you wanted to kill somebody, you would kill them while dressed as a leopard. The victim would be killed with a three-bladed knife. If you slash somebody with one of these then certainly, to the naked eye, it looks as though they have been killed by the claws of a wild animal. The next morning, when somebody finds the corpse, it’s not clear whether the person has been killed by a wild leopard or a “human leopard”. Were the actions of these elite killers criminal? It is an interesting question, as there was no written law. Yet in all human communities that I know of, it’s normally forbidden to kill people because you feel like it. There is almost always some restriction on killing. However, at the same time, part of political power is the power to take human life, even in our own societies today. The death penalty, for example, or the right to make war. In other words, even in our own societies, which are far removed from places where leopard societies existed, political power is defined by including the right and even the duty to take human life in certain circumstances. That reinforces the point that political power is always morally ambiguous. We have political power because we need to organise our communities and to control some of our impulses, therefore political power is good. But at the same time we have this destructive side to it, including the taking of human life. In modern western society that is more or less restricted to cases of war, when the state takes it upon itself to kill very large numbers of people. And in the case of our recent past and many countries now, the state can take it upon itself to kill members of its own community – capital punishment. But in African forest community 100 years ago there was no law or central government, so the most powerful people in the community took it upon themselves to kill others in the guise of leopards. What might cause a leopard society to kill someone? It could be all sorts of things. These things were not written about or analysed in a systematic way until the arrival of colonial government. And colonial administrators tended to regard leopard societies as associations of criminals. Colonial government was cast in the European model in which the defining element of political power is its monopoly on violence. And here you have a group of people who are taking it upon themselves to inflict murderous violence. No state can tolerate that. Who they killed and why they killed them was secret. It was decided within the conclave. Maybe they might have been killed because they were deemed to be a problem to the community. In other words, you could say that maybe they were doling out capital punishment under the guise of killing by a leopard. But it could also be that some were killed for other reasons. It might have been personal. People were definitely afraid of these human leopards – it would be wrong to say, “Oh this was a mechanism by which the law was upheld.” The point is there was no law in a modern sense. But that didn’t mean that anyone could do whatever they felt like. So the leopard society was the most powerful group in a community, acting in secret and dispensing power. And what anybody might think of what they did and the way they did that will change from time to time and place to place, as it always does with any government. Do the societies still exist? People certainly still believe in spirit possession in most parts of the world. Outside western Europe it is a widely held belief, even in north American in the form of Pentacostal churches. People often practice spirit possession. But in Africa the idea that an animal spirit can take over a human is still common. People in Africa will often tell you that some politician from time to time turns into a wild animal. I mean, people with university degrees will tell you these things. For example, the head of the intelligence services in one country, I remember, a particularly redoubtable man, was greatly feared. He was rumoured to be able to turn into an owl. An owl – a carnivorous, silent, night hunter. Acting at night is always associated with evil; the owl is, in many parts of the world, seen as a powerful but morally dubious creature. You still hear these beliefs a lot today. Colonial governments would not tolerate leopard societies, and I think almost all of them were made illegal. They imprisoned people for being members. They really did their best to destroy leopard societies. However, the belief survived that powerful people could be possessed by the spirits of powerful animals. And also the practice remained that powerful people in a given small community might get together to kill an individual, not just to get them out of the way, but there was this idea that murdering somebody and eating parts of them gives you power. Actual organised leopard societies may still exist, though I think they probably became less and less organised over the last half century. The practices of abducting people and eating bits of them, and the rumour going around that the killing has been done by wild animals, is still very much alive. • “There was this idea that murdering somebody and eating parts of them gives you power.” The head of a leopard. More specifically, the man-eating leopard of Ikot Udoro. Presumably dead in this photograph Confiscated assorted creepy human leopard related bits and bobs, 1947 Some leopard men striking some poses SIEG HI-DE-HEILIt’s Carry On Race-Hate with Britain’s shittest fascists “I just think that a black person living in England is like a donkey living in a dog kennel,” explains Shelley, leader of the British People’s Party women’s division, as she takes another sip of her Starbucks hot chocolate. I had travelled to Bradford, the beating heart of British nationalism (apparently), to learn more about the UK’s most far-right political party. I got to know Shelley through her blog, which captured my attention with its numerous pet pictures – the Nazi Newt that lives in a tank in front of a large Swastika banner and Kitler the cat – and its online shop selling snazzy merchandise including enamel ‘Hang Paedo Scum!’ badges. Shelley isn’t her real name, she asked us to keep her anonymous as she fears possible reprisals from “reds”, the white nationalists’ term for their liberal enemies. You can probably figure it out, though, if you have half a brain cell. “This will give you an idea of what we’re about,” she says, handing me a brown envelope containing photocopied flyers with snappy slogans like “MISSING! A Future For White Children”, and a copy of “Did Six Million Really Die?”, an infamous document that denies the Holocaust. Like most white nationalists, the BPP believe in the “fourteen words”, David Lane’s statement based on the teachings of Adolf Hitler: “We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children.” The party was established in 2005 by ex-Combat 18 member Kev Watmough, prolific right-wing political figure Eddy Morrison and John G. Wood, founding member of the National Front. Due to the BPP having fewer than 1000 members, with most of them based in South Yorkshire, they are often referred to as ‘the Leeds Nazis’. “I’m a racial separatist. I don’t believe that races should mix,” she says. In which ways? Society? Relationships? “In any way. I mean, I don’t think that me and my culture belong in the middle of Africa. I’ve been to Africa, I’ve travelled the world, and equally I think the same of this country. I think it should belong to the indigenous people.” Racial separatism is what sets the BPP apart from other far-right parties, as they believe that anyone who isn’t indigenous to Britain should be forcibly returned to their own country of origin. But what about people of mixed race? “A lot of people would say, ‘They’re half this, they’re half that,’ but I would still maintain that they didn’t belong here,” Shelley says. “A lot of people say, ‘Where would they go?’ and to be honest, I don’t know the answer to that, but I know that they don’t belong here. “We wouldn’t just pack a load of people up and ship them on a boat, we believe financially, economically, it would be more viable to remunerate people and send them back,” she reassures. “Say you have the average person here from Africa, they work, they plod on, they send money back home. If you sent someone back to Africa with £10,000 in their pocket then they’d be set for life. So we don’t believe in just throwing people out, but we do believe in phased and forced repatriation.” Another thing to go would be non-Christian buildings, and the white people who worship in them. “I don’t want mosques here, so I would demolish every mosque in the country. As I believe that the indigenous people are white and Christian, I would demolish all non-Christian places of worship. So any white person who wears a scarf on their head and calls themselves a Muslim I don’t think has any place in a Christian country.” “BPP values are very traditional Christian-based, we believe in the family unit,” she explains, before adding, “and cultivating the white race.” It is unclear which part of the Bible encourages the cultivation of the white race. “The average white woman will have two kids at the most – this is a scientific fact. But when you see an Asian she’s got seven – you don’t need to be Einstein to do the maths. Here, you can see it, it’s in your face every day. The white race is the most endangered species on the planet, we’re just not having children. The average now, it’s not even 2.4 children anymore, it’s 1.6. For Asians, it’s about six children, there are four times as many children being born to non-white parents.” But the Christian ethos poses problems with potentially culling a growing population. “I believe abortion to be a systematic attack on the family unit,” she says. “As a Christian, I oppose it, I believe a foetus is a life and it shouldn’t be taken away.” But what if a white woman was raped by a black man, or vice versa – would there be a special rule for that? “For me to say ‘right kind of abortion’ – I can’t do that. It’s like you saying to me, ‘Five generations ago my grandfather was half-black, I’ve got to go.’ No, I don’t think you would. It’s a grey area.” For a black and white kinda girl, this was Shelley’s first instance of an awful lot of grey areas. “My belief is that I don’t like abortion, just as I don’t like to see children starving in Africa, so just because a foetus isn’t sparkly white doesn’t mean I would just get rid of it. But of course, some of my opinions are not what Kevin [Watmough]’s opinions would be. I mean if I was pregnant and I thought the child would be born with a disability, I would go ahead with it, unless it was something horrendous. If I was told the child would only live an hour, I wouldn’t continue with it.” With Bradford having the highest population of Asians outside Tower Hamlets it must be a frustrating environment for a white separatist to call home. “There are parts of Bradford that I can’t walk through. This is MY country, and I can’t walk through certain parts of Bradford,” she sighs. “The police won’t acknowledge it, but it is a fact. If you went and picked up a local paper today, I could guarantee you almost every drug dealer would be Asian. “We had a friend who was assaulted by Asians in Bradford. He was covered in blood, staggering up the street; he was beaten up because he was white. Six of them set on him. So he went and found a policeman, who asked if he was alright. When he explained, ‘I’ve just been attacked by Asians,’ they replied, ‘Well you better fuck off then and tell your mother to put a plaster on it.’ That was their answer.” “I don’t condone or endorse people who think the solution is going and blowing up a mosque, as it isn’t. But I can see why some people get to that stage. Sometimes it’s like being backed into a corner by ten dogs. No matter how much you love animals, you’re gonna kick a dog. You can tell the police, but they’re terrified of Muslims, they’re terrified by the Asian community in general in case there are riots again.” It would be easy to assume that Shelley had been involved in a similar experience which led to her taking this extreme position, but there was no such event. Do you think if you had grown up in a place that was less racially segregated you would have different ideas? “I went to a lovely school, I had a very privileged, very white upbringing. My family are appalled that I’m a nationalist,” she says. “But I knew it was there, in me. I was first in touch with the NF at 14, and at an all-white school. I don’t think I had met anybody who wasn’t white. Kev grew up in Bradford, and he’d march on a Saturday. He’s from a very different era. Being a nationalist, it’s just there. I left the NF because, as a woman, I was just too nervous. I drifted away, then I drifted back about five years ago. I’ve made some fantastic friends.” Shelley has had to move house seven times in the last two years. “This one’s like Fort Knox with cameras! The joys of active nationalist politics.” It must be tricky to make friends, I ask. “I have perhaps two friends with opposing beliefs. One’s a member of UKIP, the others are all sort of nationalists really. I don’t have any black or Asian friends,” she says before adding, “If you were sat here now and you were black, I wouldn’t be treating you any differently, it‘s not about that. We don’t like seeing anyone get hurt, and I don’t dislike anybody on this Earth due to the colour of their skin.” In support of this hard-to-believe statement she reminisces, “My Libertarian Conservative friend came on a demo in Leeds – he’s of Greek-Cypriot origin – and as he came around the corner I thought, ‘Oh my good God, he’s very dark,’ but he’s of European descent, so it’s OK.” Do you think that white people are better than other races? “Not necessarily better, just fundamentally different. I mean, a cat is not better than a dog. Me, personally, I am not a white supremacist, that’s not what I am about. I do believe that when you look at the world’s greatest inventions, 75 per cent of them would have come from a white man. There are books and research that white people are of more superior intellect. Do I subscribe to that? Possibly. But I don’t think I’m better per-se. I believe I’m different – the physiology of the different races is clearly apparent in skeletons.” You get Great Danes and you get Chihuahuas– they’re both different but they’re still dogs, I interrupt. “Yeah, that’s true, anyone who walks like we do is a human being, I don’t deny that, but I do think that the temperament of a Labrador is very different to a Jack Russell, but they’re both dogs. An Alsatian is very different to a Chihuahua.” A Chihuahua is easier to fit in a handbag, I add. “I do want one!” she laughs. “Yes, but ultimately I do think there are fundamental differences and I just think races just shouldn’t mix, they shouldn’t do it. I do think there will be riots at some point and it’ll be somewhere like Leicester, Blackburn or Burnley. It’s going to be catastrophic.” While all of Shelly’s views are extreme, there is one which most people would find abhorrent. It’s a viewpoint that can result in jail for those who openly espouse it, and it is for this reason that when she handed me the brown envelope earlier that afternoon that she ensured that I was adamant that I wanted to accept it. If she was caught giving me such material, she could be prosecuted. “I believe that the Holocaust was used as an excuse to create the illegal state of Israel,” Shelley says. “It’s a complete and utter hoax. I don’t say that people didn’t die, I believe they were labour camps, I don’t deny that people were worked to death in concentration camps, but I don’t believe that they were used for mass extermination. At Auschwitz, there was a brothel, there was a church, there are photographs of weddings that went on there, with everybody smiling! “I’m not saying they were like 5-star hotels, as obviously they weren’t, but I do believe that primarily they were labour camps, and I don’t think that anyone would have been slain just because they were Jewish.” Two BPP members, Simon Sheppard and Steve Whittle, snappily dubbed the Heretical Two, were convicted of publishing material inciting racial hatred. “Simon, admittedly, handed out anti-Semitic leaflets in a Jewish area, so he was going to get arrested for that, but that aside, he was effectively arrested for thought crime – ‘Holocaust denial!’” The pair fled to America the weekend after their trial and attempted to claim political asylum before being returned to the UK, a situation Shelley finds ridiculous, saying, “Plenty of IRA terrorists were granted asylum.” The BPP takes itself and nationalism very seriously, which is why the conviction of one of its key members in 2008 rocked the party to its core. Following an anti-terrorism raid on Martyn Gilleard’s Goole flat, police discovered 39,000 indecent images of children downloaded to his PC. They also found four nail bombs, machetes, gunpowder, a notebook crammed with racist scrawlings about blowing up Mosques and reclaiming Britain for the white race, and a hi-vis jacket with a swastika drawn on the back in marker pen. As if being a paedophile member of a staunchly anti-paedophile party wasn’t embarrassing enough, he has now converted to Islam since being sent to jail. Shelley is less than keen to discuss this man who she once considered a close friend. “Martyn Gilleard, he’s in Wakefield Prison, which is 90 per cent Muslim, which is why he converted. Otherwise he’d get his head chopped off, his life would be intolerable there. We supported Martyn from the start, I wrote to him every week, Kev wrote to him every week.” Even though he was a convicted paedophile? “We didn’t know about this at the time. All we knew was that he had been arrested under terrorism laws. We toddled to Leeds on a Monday morning to show our support for him, and he arrived, and we’re sitting there, and it started, and the courtroom was packed. Then the judge started talking and mentioned ‘39,000 indecent images’. I said to Kev, ‘What’s that about?’ and he said, ‘I don’t know.’ Then the judge said, ‘Martyn Gilleard, how do you plead?’ And he just sat there and then went ‘Guilty.’” Do you think that he was set up? “Kev’s had his home raided that many times, and they can plant anything, in the house or on the computer, and to start with I thought, ‘They’ve set him up to look like a paedophile,’ but he just sat there saying ‘Guilty’. I don’t know. Martyn was a friend of ours.” So say you were in charge, how would have he have been punished? “Well, all paedophiles would be hanged.” Would you employ whippings or chopping off hands? “No, I wouldn’t, but I’d certainly like to get hold of a man who had sexually molested a little girl repeatedly; I’d love to chop off his genitals very slowly and painfully, but no I don’t believe in that. Me, the person that I am, I would love to do that, but when you’re talking about a judicial system, you can’t.” Would you say you were a Nazi? “I wouldn’t say I was a Nazi, I would describe myself as a racialist. I wouldn’t hurt anybody, I would say my ideologies are very National Socialist. But Hitler was a National Socialist. We never shy away from that.” Do you ever think that you would have been happy if Britain had lost the war against Nazi Germany, that you would have been happy to have been under Hitler’s reign? “I don’t know. I’ve got a copy of Mein Kampf in the front room, and I believe at the time Hitler achieved massive, massive, massive things, and a lot of his ideologies I could agree with.” Yet, she admits that it’s impossible to live in a nationalist, idealistic world. “I mean, I campaign to boycot Israeli goods, but here I am sitting in Starbucks!” Is Starbucks Israeli? “I think a lot of the produce can be from Israel, and in fact I think it’s a Jewish company.” So are you pro-Palestine? “Absolutely.” Despite a lot of them being Muslim? “Tell you what, walking around Bradford in a ‘Boycot Israeli Goods’ t-shirt, the Muslims love it! The BPP at one point organised a London demo outside the Israeli embassy, and we contacted lots of Muslim groups to come and stand with us, so in that respect… I don’t recognise Israel, I don’t acknowledge it, it’s a bandit state, I do not acknowledge that Israel exists. As the BPP, we do not recognise Israel. Would I stand with Muslim groups and oppose Israel? Yes I would.” I enquire as to what a proud white nationalist eats. If you were going for a meal, where would you go? Do you eat foreign food? “I know of nationalist meetings that were held in Chinese restaurants!” she laughs, before saying, in a serious tone, “I eat curry… but I make it myself.” • “I would demolish all non-Christian places of worship.” A selection of badges from the BPP merch shop: There’s no pinky brown in it either, doy! More Nigel Farage than Joseph Goebbels Confusing use of a Celtic cross by people who idolise William of Orange Unless it’s your mate who just got banged up for having 39,000 kiddie porn snaps on his laptop!! Fair enough Don’t know what this is all about “I just think that a black person living in England is like a donkey living in a dog kennel,” explains Shelley, leader of the British People’s Party women’s division, as she takes another sip of her Starbucks hot chocolate. I had travelled to Bradford, the beating heart of British nationalism (apparently), to learn more about the UK’s most far-right political party. I got to know Shelley through her blog, which captured my attention with its numerous pet pictures – the Nazi Newt that lives in a tank in front of a large Swastika banner and Kitler the cat – and its online shop selling snazzy merchandise including enamel ‘Hang Paedo Scum!’ badges. Shelley isn’t her real name, she asked us to keep her anonymous as she fears possible reprisals from “reds”, the white nationalists’ term for their liberal enemies. You can probably figure it out, though, if you have half a brain cell. “This will give you an idea of what we’re about,” she says, handing me a brown envelope containing photocopied flyers with snappy slogans like “MISSING! A Future For White Children”, and a copy of “Did Six Million Really Die?”, an infamous document that denies the Holocaust. Like most white nationalists, the BPP believe in the “fourteen words”, David Lane’s statement based on the teachings of Adolf Hitler: “We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children.” The party was established in 2005 by ex-Combat 18 member Kev Watmough, prolific right-wing political figure Eddy Morrison and John G. Wood, founding member of the National Front. Due to the BPP having fewer than 1000 members, with most of them based in South Yorkshire, they are often referred to as ‘the Leeds Nazis’. “I’m a racial separatist. I don’t believe that races should mix,” she says. In which ways? Society? Relationships? “In any way. I mean, I don’t think that me and my culture belong in the middle of Africa. I’ve been to Africa, I’ve travelled the world, and equally I think the same of this country. I think it should belong to the indigenous people.” Racial separatism is what sets the BPP apart from other far-right parties, as they believe that anyone who isn’t indigenous to Britain should be forcibly returned to their own country of origin. But what about people of mixed race? “A lot of people would say, ‘They’re half this, they’re half that,’ but I would still maintain that they didn’t belong here,” Shelley says. “A lot of people say, ‘Where would they go?’ and to be honest, I don’t know the answer to that, but I know that they don’t belong here. “We wouldn’t just pack a load of people up and ship them on a boat, we believe financially, economically, it would be more viable to remunerate people and send them back,” she reassures. “Say you have the average person here from Africa, they work, they plod on, they send money back home. If you sent someone back to Africa with £10,000 in their pocket then they’d be set for life. So we don’t believe in just throwing people out, but we do believe in phased and forced repatriation.” Another thing to go would be non-Christian buildings, and the white people who worship in them. “I don’t want mosques here, so I would demolish every mosque in the country. As I believe that the indigenous people are white and Christian, I would demolish all non-Christian places of worship. So any white person who wears a scarf on their head and calls themselves a Muslim I don’t think has any place in a Christian country.” “BPP values are very traditional Christian-based, we believe in the family unit,” she explains, before adding, “and cultivating the white race.” It is unclear which part of the Bible encourages the cultivation of the white race. “The average white woman will have two kids at the most – this is a scientific fact. But when you see an Asian she’s got seven – you don’t need to be Einstein to do the maths. Here, you can see it, it’s in your face every day. The white race is the most endangered species on the planet, we’re just not having children. The average now, it’s not even 2.4 children anymore, it’s 1.6. For Asians, it’s about six children, there are four times as many children being born to non-white parents.” But the Christian ethos poses problems with potentially culling a growing population. “I believe abortion to be a systematic attack on the family unit,” she says. “As a Christian, I oppose it, I believe a foetus is a life and it shouldn’t be taken away.” But what if a white woman was raped by a black man, or vice versa – would there be a special rule for that? “For me to say ‘right kind of abortion’ – I can’t do that. It’s like you saying to me, ‘Five generations ago my grandfather was half-black, I’ve got to go.’ No, I don’t think you would. It’s a grey area.” For a black and white kinda girl, this was Shelley’s first instance of an awful lot of grey areas. “My belief is that I don’t like abortion, just as I don’t like to see children starving in Africa, so just because a foetus isn’t sparkly white doesn’t mean I would just get rid of it. But of course, some of my opinions are not what Kevin [Watmough]’s opinions would be. I mean if I was pregnant and I thought the child would be born with a disability, I would go ahead with it, unless it was something horrendous. If I was told the child would only live an hour, I wouldn’t continue with it.” With Bradford having the highest population of Asians outside Tower Hamlets it must be a frustrating environment for a white separatist to call home. “There are parts of Bradford that I can’t walk through. This is MY country, and I can’t walk through certain parts of Bradford,” she sighs. “The police won’t acknowledge it, but it is a fact. If you went and picked up a local paper today, I could guarantee you almost every drug dealer would be Asian. “We had a friend who was assaulted by Asians in Bradford. He was covered in blood, staggering up the street; he was beaten up because he was white. Six of them set on him. So he went and found a policeman, who asked if he was alright. When he explained, ‘I’ve just been attacked by Asians,’ they replied, ‘Well you better fuck off then and tell your mother to put a plaster on it.’ That was their answer.” “I don’t condone or endorse people who think the solution is going and blowing up a mosque, as it isn’t. But I can see why some people get to that stage. Sometimes it’s like being backed into a corner by ten dogs. No matter how much you love animals, you’re gonna kick a dog. You can tell the police, but they’re terrified of Muslims, they’re terrified by the Asian community in general in case there are riots again.” It would be easy to assume that Shelley had been involved in a similar experience which led to her taking this extreme position, but there was no such event. Do you think if you had grown up in a place that was less racially segregated you would have different ideas? “I went to a lovely school, I had a very privileged, very white upbringing. My family are appalled that I’m a nationalist,” she says. “But I knew it was there, in me. I was first in touch with the NF at 14, and at an all-white school. I don’t think I had met anybody who wasn’t white. Kev grew up in Bradford, and he’d march on a Saturday. He’s from a very different era. Being a nationalist, it’s just there. I left the NF because, as a woman, I was just too nervous. I drifted away, then I drifted back about five years ago. I’ve made some fantastic friends.” Shelley has had to move house seven times in the last two years. “This one’s like Fort Knox with cameras! The joys of active nationalist politics.” It must be tricky to make friends, I ask. “I have perhaps two friends with opposing beliefs. One’s a member of UKIP, the others are all sort of nationalists really. I don’t have any black or Asian friends,” she says before adding, “If you were sat here now and you were black, I wouldn’t be treating you any differently, it‘s not about that. We don’t like seeing anyone get hurt, and I don’t dislike anybody on this Earth due to the colour of their skin.” In support of this hard-to-believe statement she reminisces, “My Libertarian Conservative friend came on a demo in Leeds – he’s of Greek-Cypriot origin – and as he came around the corner I thought, ‘Oh my good God, he’s very dark,’ but he’s of European descent, so it’s OK.” Do you think that white people are better than other races? “Not necessarily better, just fundamentally different. I mean, a cat is not better than a dog. Me, personally, I am not a white supremacist, that’s not what I am about. I do believe that when you look at the world’s greatest inventions, 75 per cent of them would have come from a white man. There are books and research that white people are of more superior intellect. Do I subscribe to that? Possibly. But I don’t think I’m better per-se. I believe I’m different – the physiology of the different races is clearly apparent in skeletons.” You get Great Danes and you get Chihuahuas– they’re both different but they’re still dogs, I interrupt. “Yeah, that’s true, anyone who walks like we do is a human being, I don’t deny that, but I do think that the temperament of a Labrador is very different to a Jack Russell, but they’re both dogs. An Alsatian is very different to a Chihuahua.” A Chihuahua is easier to fit in a handbag, I add. “I do want one!” she laughs. “Yes, but ultimately I do think there are fundamental differences and I just think races just shouldn’t mix, they shouldn’t do it. I do think there will be riots at some point and it’ll be somewhere like Leicester, Blackburn or Burnley. It’s going to be catastrophic.” While all of Shelly’s views are extreme, there is one which most people would find abhorrent. It’s a viewpoint that can result in jail for those who openly espouse it, and it is for this reason that when she handed me the brown envelope earlier that afternoon that she ensured that I was adamant that I wanted to accept it. If she was caught giving me such material, she could be prosecuted. “I believe that the Holocaust was used as an excuse to create the illegal state of Israel,” Shelley says. “It’s a complete and utter hoax. I don’t say that people didn’t die, I believe they were labour camps, I don’t deny that people were worked to death in concentration camps, but I don’t believe that they were used for mass extermination. At Auschwitz, there was a brothel, there was a church, there are photographs of weddings that went on there, with everybody smiling! “I’m not saying they were like 5-star hotels, as obviously they weren’t, but I do believe that primarily they were labour camps, and I don’t think that anyone would have been slain just because they were Jewish.” Two BPP members, Simon Sheppard and Steve Whittle, snappily dubbed the Heretical Two, were convicted of publishing material inciting racial hatred. “Simon, admittedly, handed out anti-Semitic leaflets in a Jewish area, so he was going to get arrested for that, but that aside, he was effectively arrested for thought crime – ‘Holocaust denial!’” The pair fled to America the weekend after their trial and attempted to claim political asylum before being returned to the UK, a situation Shelley finds ridiculous, saying, “Plenty of IRA terrorists were granted asylum.” The BPP takes itself and nationalism very seriously, which is why the conviction of one of its key members in 2008 rocked the party to its core. Following an anti-terrorism raid on Martyn Gilleard’s Goole flat, police discovered 39,000 indecent images of children downloaded to his PC. They also found four nail bombs, machetes, gunpowder, a notebook crammed with racist scrawlings about blowing up Mosques and reclaiming Britain for the white race, and a hi-vis jacket with a swastika drawn on the back in marker pen. As if being a paedophile member of a staunchly anti-paedophile party wasn’t embarrassing enough, he has now converted to Islam since being sent to jail. Shelley is less than keen to discuss this man who she once considered a close friend. “Martyn Gilleard, he’s in Wakefield Prison, which is 90 per cent Muslim, which is why he converted. Otherwise he’d get his head chopped off, his life would be intolerable there. We supported Martyn from the start, I wrote to him every week, Kev wrote to him every week.” Even though he was a convicted paedophile? “We didn’t know about this at the time. All we knew was that he had been arrested under terrorism laws. We toddled to Leeds on a Monday morning to show our support for him, and he arrived, and we’re sitting there, and it started, and the courtroom was packed. Then the judge started talking and mentioned ‘39,000 indecent images’. I said to Kev, ‘What’s that about?’ and he said, ‘I don’t know.’ Then the judge said, ‘Martyn Gilleard, how do you plead?’ And he just sat there and then went ‘Guilty.’” Do you think that he was set up? “Kev’s had his home raided that many times, and they can plant anything, in the house or on the computer, and to start with I thought, ‘They’ve set him up to look like a paedophile,’ but he just sat there saying ‘Guilty’. I don’t know. Martyn was a friend of ours.” So say you were in charge, how would have he have been punished? “Well, all paedophiles would be hanged.” Would you employ whippings or chopping off hands? “No, I wouldn’t, but I’d certainly like to get hold of a man who had sexually molested a little girl repeatedly; I’d love to chop off his genitals very slowly and painfully, but no I don’t believe in that. Me, the person that I am, I would love to do that, but when you’re talking about a judicial system, you can’t.” Would you say you were a Nazi? “I wouldn’t say I was a Nazi, I would describe myself as a racialist. I wouldn’t hurt anybody, I would say my ideologies are very National Socialist. But Hitler was a National Socialist. We never shy away from that.” Do you ever think that you would have been happy if Britain had lost the war against Nazi Germany, that you would have been happy to have been under Hitler’s reign? “I don’t know. I’ve got a copy of Mein Kampf in the front room, and I believe at the time Hitler achieved massive, massive, massive things, and a lot of his ideologies I could agree with.” Yet, she admits that it’s impossible to live in a nationalist, idealistic world. “I mean, I campaign to boycot Israeli goods, but here I am sitting in Starbucks!” Is Starbucks Israeli? “I think a lot of the produce can be from Israel, and in fact I think it’s a Jewish company.” So are you pro-Palestine? “Absolutely.” Despite a lot of them being Muslim? “Tell you what, walking around Bradford in a ‘Boycot Israeli Goods’ t-shirt, the Muslims love it! The BPP at one point organised a London demo outside the Israeli embassy, and we contacted lots of Muslim groups to come and stand with us, so in that respect… I don’t recognise Israel, I don’t acknowledge it, it’s a bandit state, I do not acknowledge that Israel exists. As the BPP, we do not recognise Israel. Would I stand with Muslim groups and oppose Israel? Yes I would.” I enquire as to what a proud white nationalist eats. If you were going for a meal, where would you go? Do you eat foreign food? “I know of nationalist meetings that were held in Chinese restaurants!” she laughs, before saying, in a serious tone, “I eat curry… but I make it myself.” • This summer’s must-have chick lit meisterwerk Some Jews smiling at a wedding. Later on they went to a brothel That there’s an axolotl in front of a Totenkopf flag Cats that look like Hitler and belong to racialists “I just think that a black person living in England is like a donkey living in a dog kennel,” explains Shelley, leader of the British People’s Party women’s division, as she takes another sip of her Starbucks hot chocolate. I had travelled to Bradford, the beating heart of British nationalism (apparently), to learn more about the UK’s most far-right political party. I got to know Shelley through her blog, which captured my attention with its numerous pet pictures – the Nazi Newt that lives in a tank in front of a large Swastika banner and Kitler the cat – and its online shop selling snazzy merchandise including enamel ‘Hang Paedo Scum!’ badges. Shelley isn’t her real name, she asked us to keep her anonymous as she fears possible reprisals from “reds”, the white nationalists’ term for their liberal enemies. You can probably figure it out, though, if you have half a brain cell. “This will give you an idea of what we’re about,” she says, handing me a brown envelope containing photocopied flyers with snappy slogans like “MISSING! A Future For White Children”, and a copy of “Did Six Million Really Die?”, an infamous document that denies the Holocaust. Like most white nationalists, the BPP believe in the “fourteen words”, David Lane’s statement based on the teachings of Adolf Hitler: “We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children.” The party was established in 2005 by ex-Combat 18 member Kev Watmough, prolific right-wing political figure Eddy Morrison and John G. Wood, founding member of the National Front. Due to the BPP having fewer than 1000 members, with most of them based in South Yorkshire, they are often referred to as ‘the Leeds Nazis’. “I’m a racial separatist. I don’t believe that races should mix,” she says. In which ways? Society? Relationships? “In any way. I mean, I don’t think that me and my culture belong in the middle of Africa. I’ve been to Africa, I’ve travelled the world, and equally I think the same of this country. I think it should belong to the indigenous people.” Racial separatism is what sets the BPP apart from other far-right parties, as they believe that anyone who isn’t indigenous to Britain should be forcibly returned to their own country of origin. But what about people of mixed race? “A lot of people would say, ‘They’re half this, they’re half that,’ but I would still maintain that they didn’t belong here,” Shelley says. “A lot of people say, ‘Where would they go?’ and to be honest, I don’t know the answer to that, but I know that they don’t belong here. “We wouldn’t just pack a load of people up and ship them on a boat, we believe financially, economically, it would be more viable to remunerate people and send them back,” she reassures. “Say you have the average person here from Africa, they work, they plod on, they send money back home. If you sent someone back to Africa with £10,000 in their pocket then they’d be set for life. So we don’t believe in just throwing people out, but we do believe in phased and forced repatriation.” Another thing to go would be non-Christian buildings, and the white people who worship in them. “I don’t want mosques here, so I would demolish every mosque in the country. As I believe that the indigenous people are white and Christian, I would demolish all non-Christian places of worship. So any white person who wears a scarf on their head and calls themselves a Muslim I don’t think has any place in a Christian country.” “BPP values are very traditional Christian-based, we believe in the family unit,” she explains, before adding, “and cultivating the white race.” It is unclear which part of the Bible encourages the cultivation of the white race. “The average white woman will have two kids at the most – this is a scientific fact. But when you see an Asian she’s got seven – you don’t need to be Einstein to do the maths. Here, you can see it, it’s in your face every day. The white race is the most endangered species on the planet, we’re just not having children. The average now, it’s not even 2.4 children anymore, it’s 1.6. For Asians, it’s about six children, there are four times as many children being born to non-white parents.” But the Christian ethos poses problems with potentially culling a growing population. “I believe abortion to be a systematic attack on the family unit,” she says. “As a Christian, I oppose it, I believe a foetus is a life and it shouldn’t be taken away.” But what if a white woman was raped by a black man, or vice versa – would there be a special rule for that? “For me to say ‘right kind of abortion’ – I can’t do that. It’s like you saying to me, ‘Five generations ago my grandfather was half-black, I’ve got to go.’ No, I don’t think you would. It’s a grey area.” For a black and white kinda girl, this was Shelley’s first instance of an awful lot of grey areas. “My belief is that I don’t like abortion, just as I don’t like to see children starving in Africa, so just because a foetus isn’t sparkly white doesn’t mean I would just get rid of it. But of course, some of my opinions are not what Kevin [Watmough]’s opinions would be. I mean if I was pregnant and I thought the child would be born with a disability, I would go ahead with it, unless it was something horrendous. If I was told the child would only live an hour, I wouldn’t continue with it.” With Bradford having the highest population of Asians outside Tower Hamlets it must be a frustrating environment for a white separatist to call home. “There are parts of Bradford that I can’t walk through. This is MY country, and I can’t walk through certain parts of Bradford,” she sighs. “The police won’t acknowledge it, but it is a fact. If you went and picked up a local paper today, I could guarantee you almost every drug dealer would be Asian. “We had a friend who was assaulted by Asians in Bradford. He was covered in blood, staggering up the street; he was beaten up because he was white. Six of them set on him. So he went and found a policeman, who asked if he was alright. When he explained, ‘I’ve just been attacked by Asians,’ they replied, ‘Well you better fuck off then and tell your mother to put a plaster on it.’ That was their answer.” “I don’t condone or endorse people who think the solution is going and blowing up a mosque, as it isn’t. But I can see why some people get to that stage. Sometimes it’s like being backed into a corner by ten dogs. No matter how much you love animals, you’re gonna kick a dog. You can tell the police, but they’re terrified of Muslims, they’re terrified by the Asian community in general in case there are riots again.” It would be easy to assume that Shelley had been involved in a similar experience which led to her taking this extreme position, but there was no such event. Do you think if you had grown up in a place that was less racially segregated you would have different ideas? “I went to a lovely school, I had a very privileged, very white upbringing. My family are appalled that I’m a nationalist,” she says. “But I knew it was there, in me. I was first in touch with the NF at 14, and at an all-white school. I don’t think I had met anybody who wasn’t white. Kev grew up in Bradford, and he’d march on a Saturday. He’s from a very different era. Being a nationalist, it’s just there. I left the NF because, as a woman, I was just too nervous. I drifted away, then I drifted back about five years ago. I’ve made some fantastic friends.” Shelley has had to move house seven times in the last two years. “This one’s like Fort Knox with cameras! The joys of active nationalist politics.” It must be tricky to make friends, I ask. “I have perhaps two friends with opposing beliefs. One’s a member of UKIP, the others are all sort of nationalists really. I don’t have any black or Asian friends,” she says before adding, “If you were sat here now and you were black, I wouldn’t be treating you any differently, it‘s not about that. We don’t like seeing anyone get hurt, and I don’t dislike anybody on this Earth due to the colour of their skin.” In support of this hard-to-believe statement she reminisces, “My Libertarian Conservative friend came on a demo in Leeds – he’s of Greek-Cypriot origin – and as he came around the corner I thought, ‘Oh my good God, he’s very dark,’ but he’s of European descent, so it’s OK.” Do you think that white people are better than other races? “Not necessarily better, just fundamentally different. I mean, a cat is not better than a dog. Me, personally, I am not a white supremacist, that’s not what I am about. I do believe that when you look at the world’s greatest inventions, 75 per cent of them would have come from a white man. There are books and research that white people are of more superior intellect. Do I subscribe to that? Possibly. But I don’t think I’m better per-se. I believe I’m different – the physiology of the different races is clearly apparent in skeletons.” You get Great Danes and you get Chihuahuas– they’re both different but they’re still dogs, I interrupt. “Yeah, that’s true, anyone who walks like we do is a human being, I don’t deny that, but I do think that the temperament of a Labrador is very different to a Jack Russell, but they’re both dogs. An Alsatian is very different to a Chihuahua.” A Chihuahua is easier to fit in a handbag, I add. “I do want one!” she laughs. “Yes, but ultimately I do think there are fundamental differences and I just think races just shouldn’t mix, they shouldn’t do it. I do think there will be riots at some point and it’ll be somewhere like Leicester, Blackburn or Burnley. It’s going to be catastrophic.” While all of Shelly’s views are extreme, there is one which most people would find abhorrent. It’s a viewpoint that can result in jail for those who openly espouse it, and it is for this reason that when she handed me the brown envelope earlier that afternoon that she ensured that I was adamant that I wanted to accept it. If she was caught giving me such material, she could be prosecuted. “I believe that the Holocaust was used as an excuse to create the illegal state of Israel,” Shelley says. “It’s a complete and utter hoax. I don’t say that people didn’t die, I believe they were labour camps, I don’t deny that people were worked to death in concentration camps, but I don’t believe that they were used for mass extermination. At Auschwitz, there was a brothel, there was a church, there are photographs of weddings that went on there, with everybody smiling! “I’m not saying they were like 5-star hotels, as obviously they weren’t, but I do believe that primarily they were labour camps, and I don’t think that anyone would have been slain just because they were Jewish.” Two BPP members, Simon Sheppard and Steve Whittle, snappily dubbed the Heretical Two, were convicted of publishing material inciting racial hatred. “Simon, admittedly, handed out anti-Semitic leaflets in a Jewish area, so he was going to get arrested for that, but that aside, he was effectively arrested for thought crime – ‘Holocaust denial!’” The pair fled to America the weekend after their trial and attempted to claim political asylum before being returned to the UK, a situation Shelley finds ridiculous, saying, “Plenty of IRA terrorists were granted asylum.” The BPP takes itself and nationalism very seriously, which is why the conviction of one of its key members in 2008 rocked the party to its core. Following an anti-terrorism raid on Martyn Gilleard’s Goole flat, police discovered 39,000 indecent images of children downloaded to his PC. They also found four nail bombs, machetes, gunpowder, a notebook crammed with racist scrawlings about blowing up Mosques and reclaiming Britain for the white race, and a hi-vis jacket with a swastika drawn on the back in marker pen. As if being a paedophile member of a staunchly anti-paedophile party wasn’t embarrassing enough, he has now converted to Islam since being sent to jail. Shelley is less than keen to discuss this man who she once considered a close friend. “Martyn Gilleard, he’s in Wakefield Prison, which is 90 per cent Muslim, which is why he converted. Otherwise he’d get his head chopped off, his life would be intolerable there. We supported Martyn from the start, I wrote to him every week, Kev wrote to him every week.” Even though he was a convicted paedophile? “We didn’t know about this at the time. All we knew was that he had been arrested under terrorism laws. We toddled to Leeds on a Monday morning to show our support for him, and he arrived, and we’re sitting there, and it started, and the courtroom was packed. Then the judge started talking and mentioned ‘39,000 indecent images’. I said to Kev, ‘What’s that about?’ and he said, ‘I don’t know.’ Then the judge said, ‘Martyn Gilleard, how do you plead?’ And he just sat there and then went ‘Guilty.’” Do you think that he was set up? “Kev’s had his home raided that many times, and they can plant anything, in the house or on the computer, and to start with I thought, ‘They’ve set him up to look like a paedophile,’ but he just sat there saying ‘Guilty’. I don’t know. Martyn was a friend of ours.” So say you were in charge, how would have he have been punished? “Well, all paedophiles would be hanged.” Would you employ whippings or chopping off hands? “No, I wouldn’t, but I’d certainly like to get hold of a man who had sexually molested a little girl repeatedly; I’d love to chop off his genitals very slowly and painfully, but no I don’t believe in that. Me, the person that I am, I would love to do that, but when you’re talking about a judicial system, you can’t.” Would you say you were a Nazi? “I wouldn’t say I was a Nazi, I would describe myself as a racialist. I wouldn’t hurt anybody, I would say my ideologies are very National Socialist. But Hitler was a National Socialist. We never shy away from that.” Do you ever think that you would have been happy if Britain had lost the war against Nazi Germany, that you would have been happy to have been under Hitler’s reign? “I don’t know. I’ve got a copy of Mein Kampf in the front room, and I believe at the time Hitler achieved massive, massive, massive things, and a lot of his ideologies I could agree with.” Yet, she admits that it’s impossible to live in a nationalist, idealistic world. “I mean, I campaign to boycot Israeli goods, but here I am sitting in Starbucks!” Is Starbucks Israeli? “I think a lot of the produce can be from Israel, and in fact I think it’s a Jewish company.” So are you pro-Palestine? “Absolutely.” Despite a lot of them being Muslim? “Tell you what, walking around Bradford in a ‘Boycot Israeli Goods’ t-shirt, the Muslims love it! The BPP at one point organised a London demo outside the Israeli embassy, and we contacted lots of Muslim groups to come and stand with us, so in that respect… I don’t recognise Israel, I don’t acknowledge it, it’s a bandit state, I do not acknowledge that Israel exists. As the BPP, we do not recognise Israel. Would I stand with Muslim groups and oppose Israel? Yes I would.” I enquire as to what a proud white nationalist eats. If you were going for a meal, where would you go? Do you eat foreign food? “I know of nationalist meetings that were held in Chinese restaurants!” she laughs, before saying, in a serious tone, “I eat curry… but I make it myself.” • JACKET RIPPER We all like nylon jackets, right? Right. A guy called Spuggie likes them so much that he set up a website for a burgeoning international community of mostly men who like nothing more than to masturbate over photos of other men ripping their jackets. We spoke to him about it. FUN: How did you get to be interested in this sort of thing? Spuggie: Well I always had a nylon anorak as a kid. I guess I started to enjoy playing with them rather than just wearing them when I was about 8 or 9, when I had an old jacket that had got ripped and dirty and I enjoyed trashing it more. I was about 11 when I realised the interest was sexual and that I got turned on by my friends’ jackets. It’s surprising how many guys developed the fetish at a similar age. So tell us all about ripping jackets. I don’t understand why I like it. Until I set up my website I thought ripping jackets really was something only I was into. It turns out I was wrong because about 50 per cent of the guys that contact me seem to be into ripping. Many guys like it because it’s a power thing, especially when ripping a jacket off another guy. For me, it’s not about power, and I enjoy ripping another guy’s jacket or having my jacket ripped. I enjoy the sound as much as the action in ripping, and although I often have a lot of fun without ripping, when ripping is involved it’s just more horny. I spent years ripping jackets on my own, and never dared to tell anybody about my fetish. It was only after setting up my website that I got to rip with another guy. I even went all the way to Germany for it, but we had chatted for months online and done some stuff on webcam. It was an amazing couple of days and certainly proved it’s more fun to rip with a partner. I love it when a guy is torturing my jackets; it doesn’t even need to be big rips, just a little bit of damage on a favourite jacket does the trick. Which are the best jackets? Everybody that’s into the fetish likes different jackets. My favourites are orange-lined nylon snorkel parkas, which were worn by almost everybody when my fetish developed. Being surrounded by hundreds of grubby parkas was fantastic. 80s brands like Lord Anthony, Keynote, Campri and Brutus are great. When parkas became difficult to find in the 90s I moved onto MA1 bomber jackets as they have a similar feel and were really popular at the time. Brands like Alpha and Schott are nice but expensive, and cheaper alternatives like G.S. and Scott can be just as good. Some guys prefer clean/new jackets. Others, including me, prefer them used, grubby from wear and with a nice scent of the previous owner. My perfect jacket is an old snorkel parka which has been worn for so long the outer nylon has gone shiny and never washed so the orange lining is really grubby. I was surrounded by jackets like that when I was a kid, but sadly these days they’re as rare as rocking-horse shit. What’s your personal collection of nylon jackets like now? I’ve got over 120 mostly orange-lined snorkel parkas, over 100 MA1s, about 10 MA2s and a number of other jackets from Kickers and Reebok. Half my parkas and some of my MA1s have come from car boot sales. I once got an amazingly grubby and well-worn MA1 from a regular stall holder who was wearing it at the car boot. I’d seen him wearing it for weeks and lusted after it but was too embarrassed to ask, but a mate had no problem asking for me. Mostly these days I tend to get second-hand ones from eBay or new ones from online shops. I also sometimes get good stuff from a market stall in Romford when I’m visiting one of my jacket friends in Essex. What kind of folks would we find in nylon jacket world? When I set up my website ten years ago, the community didn’t really exist. There was the odd jacket pic here and there, but that was it. Most guys thought they were the only one into the fetish and it’s amazing even today how many guys find my website and write to tell me how they though they were the only person in the world into jackets. The age range for members of my site is 18 to 57, but most are between 25 and 45. There’s all kinds of guys with all kinds of jobs. Teachers, solicitors, builders, electricians, artists, engineers, students and the unemployed, to name but a few. It’s not limited to any social or educational group; there are people from all walks of life who share a love of nylon jackets. The community certainly started online, and for most guys that’s as far as they want to take it. There are some though that like to meet up for real and provide pics for the rest of the community, which is great for websites like mine as it gets difficult to keep it fresh if I have to make all my own pics. There’s a good number in the UK and I’ve met up with some. All the guys I’ve met have been great. The largest percentage of guys are in Germany and I visit friends there regularly. Ah, Germans. Most guys just like to “play” with their jackets and others like to rip them. In Germany, they also like to piss (and even shit) on them. Some like to combine other fetishes such as bondage whilst wearing a jacket. Whatever you’re into, there’s probably somebody else who likes doing that with their jackets too. Is the nylon jacket fetish scene progressive, or is it pretty traditional and stuck in its ways? I prefer old school parkas and MA1s, so my website is biased towards them. But there are plenty guys out there who like other jackets. The most popular jackets discussed on the forum are the latest from Adidas, Nike and McKenzie. So bang up to date. Do low-quality MA1s make you sad? Cheaper jackets tend to have poorer nylon, but price isn’t always the best indicator. Sure, if you have the money you can’t go wrong with Alpha or Schott, but there are plenty of reasonably priced ones out there that are pretty good too. For instance, Scott do nice parkas and MA1s for around £30, as do a little-known brand, G.S., who tend to be sold on markets and made my favourite petrol-coloured MA1 several years ago. Sadly, G.S. use a slightly lower quality nylon now so they’re not as good as they used to be, but are still nice. I’d never buy the ones with the really cheap thin nylon, but given the choice between one Alpha or three G.S. for the same price I’d go for G.S. any day. If only I could find more petrol-coloured G.S. in the old nylon! Are ladies allowed to get involved? The community is probably around 70 per cent gay men, 29 per cent straight men and 1 per cent women. I do get the very occasional message from ladies and a couple of ladies are now involved in the forum, but it’s mostly men. When I used to get pics sent from ladies, I never used to put them on my website, but over the last year I’ve started putting a few up. I’ve only received a handful of comments about them, mostly negative, which reflect the majority gay male audience. What does the future hold for nylon jacket lovers? Nylon jacket fetish isn’t mainstream yet and guys that aren’t into it often see it as a bit weird. But is it really any more “weird” than more mainstream fetishes like leather and rubber? Certainly not. I’ve talked to plenty of guys who tried it after hearing about jacket fetish on the web and found that they actually liked it. Just as with most fetishes, the guys that are into it are normal people with normal lives, holding down normal jobs. Just because we happen to like nylon jackets doesn’t mean we’re literally “anoraks”. :-P Tee hee! Thanks Spuggie. • You can find out more about nylon abuse here: www.spuggie1234.com www.jacketripper.co.uk Words Ben Freeman Pictures All by allegedly Satanistically abused children in the USA Ritual ABUSE In the 1990s there were several high-profile cases of alleged Satanic abuse of children. Kids were taken into care and parents sent to prison in Nottingham, the Orkney Islands, Pembroke and Cleveland. It turned out that social workers and police had used dodgy interview techniques, pressurised children into making false statements and had generally been caught up in a case of mass hysteria. No hard evidence of systematic ritual abuse has ever been found. The last false allegations were on the island of Lewis in Scotland in 2003, but a new cluster of charities has appeared, claiming to support survivors of so-called “ritual abuse”. Is this the start of a fresh panic? We spoke to two people with very different opinions to try and untangle a big abusive pickle. LAURIE MATTHEW Laurie runs a charity in Dundee called Izzy’s Promise. They help survivors of “ritual abuse”. She has published several books on the subject, including help books for social workers, collections of poems written by survivors and a collection of first-person accounts of satanic ritual abuse. Her books are very specific about the nature of ritual abuse, and go into considerable detail about what happens and how abusers control victims. Izzy’s Promise is funded in part by the National Lottery. We went all the way to sunny Dundee to see what she had to say. FUN: Have you got first-hand experience of ritual abuse? Laurie: Yes, but I use experiences gained over the years working in rape crisis in the books. If I wanted to write a personal account I would do, but this is about finding ways to understand survivors of ritual abuse. I wrote the first book, Who Dares Wins because I was sick of agencies calling up. I wrote a book which tells people how to support survivors, then they can just do it ’cos it’s not that flipping hard. I understand that child abuse happens, that there are paedophile rings. I find it hard to believe that all of these things are connected internationally by a network of Satanists. Is this what you really believe? All I know is that a lot of survivors believe it. If people believe a certain thing you better acknowledge that that’s their belief. They think that everyone is involved, including the prime minister, and you hear that a lot. I am willing to accept that they believe that. When you sit with people and they are terrified because they think that if they talk they are going to die, you can’t just say to them, “Ach, that’s a lot of nonsense.” Well I can’t say that. I do say, “Look, if they’re so powerful, and so together, why don’t they take me out?” I’m a real easy target, just a little thing in my 50s. I couldn’t fight sleep. Now if it can be done with people-trafficking and pornography and the sex industry, that’s a huge market out there and it’s the same people that are doing this. You hear the word ritual and everybody goes funny. But all abuse is ritualised. No one disputes the existence of trafficking rings because in those cases they have caught people and found lots of material evidence. With satanic ritual abuse, there is nothing. People find it hard to believe something unless they see hard evidence. The films are out there. The snuff movies are there. I haven’t watched them but I have been told that it’s not that hard to get a movie, pornography or whatever where they’re doing devil worship and all that sort of thing. But people seem to think that people have to believe in it. The evidence is the survivors and what they are saying. Either they are suffering from some sort of mass delusion, in which case they need help, or some of what they are saying is true; they certainly believe what they’re saying and I think we have got to listen to that. The majority of people involved in any kind of domestic abuse don’t want to go to the police. For anybody who has ever gone to court, it is incredibly hard to get a conviction. When you do, they just get a few months in jail. I have been involved in cases where I physically helped some people so certainly there are bits of it that are true. Whether or not it is this great big conspiracy or a smaller thing makes no odds to the individual concerned. Allegations like that could really put people off believing anything about it. If a kid gets abused in a more straightforward way, in inverted commas, we are more able to believe that child. If a child then tells a story that he was abused by somebody dressed up as a fairy, because they were wearing a mask, that instantly casts doubt on that child. Some might say the opposite; that this mythology has developed because people can’t deal with the harsh reality. I think it can be a bit of both. All offenders justify in their own mind what they do. Whether it’s a parent who abuses their child and they call it teaching their child, or when we heard the stories about the little kid leading the adult on, or it being a father’s duty to make sure that his daughter knows what’s right. It’s their justification for what they do. We know that like-minded people get together. We also know that there are sects and cults that are always “out there somewhere”. I mean, it’s OK for it to be in Africa but not in Dundee. This is a civilised society and we don’t want to scrape too much and see what’s underneath, because it’s not very nice sometimes. People always talk about the Orkney case. Were those children abused? Yeah, we know some of them were abused beyond any doubt and we know they were coming away with some fantastic stories, but everyone focused on how awful social workers were, how terrible the police were and how dare they do this to these poor parents. Now some of these parents may well have been innocent and some of the children may not have been abused, but why was there this big knee jerk? You know, and it happened again and again – Nottingham, Cleveland, Pembroke – and it’s always the same. Do you get upset when you hear about dubious methods to extract information from abuse victims: asking leading questions, pressurising people into admitting that they have been Satanically abused? I would wonder why people would do that. Well it has definitely happened. I listen to survivors talk about their therapists, and I feel a bit strange about what these therapists are doing. I don’t want to say to anybody, “I think your therapist is a bit of an arsehole,” but they are taking money from wounded people and acting as if they are experts, and I think this is very dangerous. Different therapies – the dream therapies and so on – are leading people in a certain direction and twisting their beliefs. Personally, I think they should be prosecuted because it’s just as bad and it’s coming from the same place, a place of power. In your book, Where Angels Fear, there are allegations that you know certain names and places connected with Satanic ritual abuse. Have you ever gone to the police? Some of the information has gone to the police. If someone names a child, that immediately goes to the police. If we get information that someone wants us to pass on, we would. We have been collecting for many years now. We’ve got letters from Canada, America, France, more recently Finland. All over. The idea, hopefully, is that some day someone will sit down and go through all that. We don’t know if any of it is true. All we can say is that there are remarkable similarities; you do get similar names and the same general gist of things. Has it resulted in convictions? We recommend that people going to the police don’t mention ritual abuse. Don’t muddle it. Make it really simple. If you go to the police, talk about the abuse you experienced, talk to them about the reality. They need some form of corroboration. There have been convictions, but they have been convictions where the victim did not mention ritual abuse. The problem then is that you get people saying there have never been convictions for ritual abuse. In your experience, what kind of cults or sects are involved? Most survivors around here talk about Satanism or paganism. Further afield, we get voodoo, juju, different types of Christianity. Primarily around here it is the absolute belief that Satan was cast down and rules the earth. All the followers are into “might is right” and all that stuff. Survivors believe that what was done to them was right and the reason why they suffered so badly is because they haven’t been strong enough, because the strong would strive to get to the top. They believe that their parents doing this to them was right because it was teaching them to be tough and strong and the weak are the ones that get used. To be honest, I think they cut and paste to suit themselves. I am speaking with much older people aged fifty to sixty and hearing a lot of stuff that sounds like a sort of Hitler style thing with racial supremacy elements. There have been some cases here where it has been Christian abuse, just a complete distortion – you can take bits out of the Bible and make them mean anything. Ain’t that the truth. Talking to you, I sense an element of doubt, but in Where Angels Fear, you seem to be saying that these things happen, that this is absolute fact as far as you are concerned. I can’t say that. I can say that this is what people have told me. And it has been hard for some of them. I have a lot of drawings by survivors. There is a huge similarity between a lot of them. I can’t say it’s all absolutely definitely true. I would say there’s certainly a good bit of it is going to be true, but whether or not we can prove it is another matter. Do you see sceptics as the enemy? Well I’m a sceptic, so I can’t be the enemy. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being skeptical. JEAN LA FONTAINE Jean is a professor of anthropology. She wrote a report into alleged cases of Satanic ritual abuse in the 1990s. When we told her about a new crop of charities that support survivors of ritual abuse, she explained how the original scare came about. Jean lives in Camberwell, which is really a lot nicer than Dundee. FUN: How did you get into working on the subject of ritual abuse? Jean: I was doing a study of incest at Great Ormond Street. After that finished, I thought to myself, “I’m never going to do anything like this again, these poor little things,” until a friend of mine told me that she wanted someone to come and listen to a couple of social workers from Nottingham who had an extraordinary case of child abuse. I had nothing to do, so I went. And I was stunned by this story, because it sounded exactly like people talking about witchcraft in Africa. There are a few charities springing up now that deal with victims of ritual abuse. How do you feel about that, knowing what you know about the situation in the 90s? What bothered me about the events of the 1990s is that they involved taking a lot of children away from home and pressurising them into telling stories. I mean, some of those children were abused, no doubt about it. But some of them were put through 70 hours of police interview; no child of seven or eight can go through that. People were convinced that if they were not talking about ritual abuse, it was because they were being ritually “got at”. As far as the adults are concerned, they start off going to see somebody because they feel bad and then they get told because they got ritually abused they can’t remember it, which absolutely proves that they have been ritually abused. And then they are encouraged to recover their memories, which largely means a long process of talking back and forth to the therapist. So if I went to a therapist and said, “I feel a bit miserable and I have no idea why,” then they might suggest that it was some abuse I had suppressed and couldn’t remember? Well you add to this that the tool for diagnosis is often hypnosis, which is very dangerous. In the States it has gone as far as tying people up when they are in a violent mode. Then they answer by raising a finger: one for yes, two for no. That sounds dignified. Where is the line with all this? Where does truth end and conspiracy theory begin? The conspiracy theory comes in when they argue that there is an organisation out there worshipping Satan by means of regular rituals which required children to be sexually abused and sometimes killed, animals to be sacrificed, blood spilt all over the place. All the old elements of the witches’ Sabbath, and the stories that were told about the Jews killing Christian babies. Doesn’t this all sound a bit like Rosemary’s Baby? I never saw it. It sounded awful! Way back into the 40s and 50s there were horror stories and thrillers, which involved curious cults. I read them when I was about 13 and I didn’t believe them even then. Some people seemed to think that they were really true. So there’s no evidence to back up these allegations? There’s no independent evidence. What’s that? Either material or independent in the sense that it corroborates what someone else says, or other evidence. I mean, people think that if two individuals tell the same story that’s corroboration. It isn’t. It has to be something outside both of them. At the height of the panic, there was no blood, no bones, nothing. No signs of any of this stuff. At the height of the Nottingham case there were maps produced with lines allegedly drawn on them. Well they were drawn on but they were forgeries, showing tunnels which linked houses with castles all over the place. How people were connected and how someone who was supposed to be in A could be seen in B. That sort of thing. People spent a lot of time and effort producing arguments to support the original claim that this was systematic ritualised abuse. I remember talking to someone who believed in these stories. She ran an organisation called RAINS (Ritual Abuse Information Network & Support). She was talking to me about a particular case and I was saying it’s very funny because there were supposed to be two children killed in this ritual and nobody’s found any human remains. She said, “That’s quite simple, they dispose of them in a crematorium, because some of the members work in crematoria.” I said, “Yes, but you told me that the rituals were held in the countryside, in forests.” She said, “Well, they have portable crematoria.” “Oh,” I said. “Yes,” she said, “they plug them into a car and run off a car battery.” She actually said that? Yes. She actually said it to me. And that, apparently, is why there are no remains at all. Wild. So the reason that no one finds anything is that the perpetrators of the crimes are too clever to leave any evidence. You could say that about anything. It’s like that old joke that my children used to love: Why do elephants paint their toenails red? So they can hide in cherry trees. “I’ve never seen an elephant in a cherry tree!” Well it shows how effective it is. Good one. What interests do people have in keeping this theory alive? Is it purely financial? No, not only. The financial interests keep the therapists going. The other has to do with explaining evil. You cannot believe people, real ordinary human beings, can be so evil, so if someone says they are the slaves of the devil or they worship evil, it sort of explains it to you. Once you’ve got this explanation, you are very reluctant to give it up. Climbing down would be an awful comedown. They don’t want to believe that it’s Dad, it’s relatives, it’s people you know, it’s your own father. And these are the dangerous people for children. But it doesn’t happen all that often at all. So you’re saying that Satanic ritual abuse is a coping mechanism for the therapeutic community? It’s an explanatory mechanism, a distraction from the sordid realities. It’s encouraged by a very fundamentalist Christianity that believes fighting the devil is the main task of the Christian, unlike the old-fashioned and rather laidback Christianity that believed that being a good person and helping others was enough. Now you have to fight the devil in all his forms and it’s amazing how he turns up all over the place. Is the Satanism that they were talking about related to the Church of Satan in the US? Well they called it the Church of Satan as a wind-up. The basis of Anton LaVey’s ideas for the Church of Satan was anti what he saw as killjoy aspects of Christianity; disapproval of sex, fun, music and dancing. He was coming from a very Protestant American type of Christianity, very straight-laced and so his church argued the exact opposite: that self-indulgence was good and that you should think of yourself and not other people. That was the original Satanism. Some of them left and formed the Temple of Set. That’s a sort of self-improvement organisation. You learn ritual magic, but you do it by correspondence course! The mere fact that there was a church of Satan was extremely useful for those arguing that they were involved, never mind the fact that it didn’t exist over here. There was no offshoot in Britain, although there is an offshoot of the temple of Set, and some other wacky fringe Satanist organisations. Were you threatened while you were working on these cases? I was accused of all sorts of unpleasant things, like not caring about abused children or having been abused myself, or having had some personal experience of it. I got some anonymous phone calls and eventually my children got upset about that and told me to go to the police. They stopped. On the other hand, I was helped by various social workers, who said, “Well we didn’t like to say before but we absolutely think you’re right.” Why didn’t they dare? Extraordinary… It was the thing everybody believed and so standing up against it was impossible. The arguments against me were almost always ad hominem, like, “I suppose you don’t want people who sexually abuse children to be caught.” Who said anything about that? The panic around ritual abuse was distracting people’s attention from dealing with genuine child abuse. Do you feel vindicated now? Yes, in a way. It’s like fighting a hydra. You cut off one head and lots more grow. The main cause I have for satisfaction is that I don’t think that children are at risk from this idea of ritual abuse anymore. I met a “survivor” who was really very extreme and she obviously thought I believed everything she said, so she invited me to her baptism, which was going to show that she had finally vanquished Satan. She had also invited the then archbishop and he said to me: “Do you think she’s telling the truth?” and I said, “I don’t know.” He said, “I don’t know either but I don’t think that baptism will be bad for her.” Ha ha ha. • READERS’PHOTOS Just bought a Yashica T4 and think that makes you a photographer? Well then, you can fuck off! But if you’ve taken a fun photo with your mobile, send it in to us for a chance to win something really special: a tenner and a place in next issue’s Readers’ Photos. Send them to: hiya@greatenjoyment.com This page: William Trill Next page, clockwise from top left: Stew Rock, Meatandchips x 2, Ray Cyst Photos will be featured in the upcoming book, Throwaway Fuck. Words Lali Cienfuegos Pictures Anna-Faye Gillespie How to save 230,000 LOST SOULS When it happened our eyes went goopy. Poor Haiti – a land beshitted by nature and political incompetence – finally at its knees with its capital crushed by an earthquake that measured 7.0 on the Richter scale. They came, like crusaders, fighting over what was left of the tarmac, with the Americans taking over the control tower. The portable hospitals unfolded. Twenty-seven days after the earthquake, a man was found under the rubble of a flea market surviving on little more than water and possibly fruit. The world’s press continues to fight it out to paint the most discerning picture: The naked man walking through the shattered streets of Port-au-Prince, the little boy, to whom people stop by to listen to, singing his heart out using a 7 Up plastic bottle as a guitar, the Haitian sisters snow-ball fighting in their new home in the outskirts of Syracuse. But something that has rarely been mentioned is the little understood faith of voodoo, and subsequently its relationship to death. This seems odd as voodoo would usually be the first thing you associate with Haiti. Funeral rites are among the most sacred of all ceremonies to Haitians, who have been known to spend more money on their burial crypts than on their own homes. Death is an important factor in understanding one’s lineage and future. During times of slavery, despite the tendency of the slave owners to give their dead slaves only the most perfunctory of funerary rites, slaves managed to succeed in taking over the Catholic rituals. The mass of the dead became the only means of asserting and recovering their lost human dignity. By respecting their dead, their connection to their spiritual home is not lost. Families forever stay connected to their ancestors. Now the problem emerges, as the images soon followed the mass burials with hundreds of unidentified contorted bodies lumped together. Relatives began fast-tracking ceremonies and cracking open old tombs in the famous Port-au-Prince cemetery in order to create space. According to voodoo credence, not being able to give an honest burial, especially following such sudden deaths, can only lead the soul to stay trapped between this world and the invisible one – as such, damning future generations. What then for the over 230,000 souls lost in-between? To best explain this quandary, we got in contact with Max Beauvoir, the supreme master of voodoo himself. An eloquent man, Max Beauvoir studied chemistry in New York and then biochemistry at the Sorbonne. His grandfather chose him, while on his deathbed, to succeed as a grand Houngan. Not free from controversy, Beauvoir is said to have profited from Western exoticism-seeking alternative tourism and is also said to be linked with François Duvalier, or Baby Doc, the dictator who fled the country in 1986 after a popular uprising against him. FUN: How do you hope to bring peace to most of the 230,000 souls that haven’t been given a traditional burial? Max De Beauvoir: We are in the process of doing this. And it is set for the 12 February. All religions will come together in a communal way to bring the final rest to the lost souls, so that we may send them below water to be cleansed. So that they can come back in next life refreshed. It will be a long ritual of one year and one day. Because the soul cannot die, it is always alive, even if the body is crushed. How will this extraordinary event take place? Will there be sacrifices? There will be no sacrifices, just water to purify and guide the souls on their way. We hope to do it in front of the demolished presidential palace. All religions will be invited: Protestants, Catholics… the president will be there too. But you speak of water, will that mean water will be central to the ceremony? You and I will not go in any water. The spirits will. The souls are everywhere, and we must guide them. You see, we are connected by spirits, not by people. How can voodoo still expect to be a sort of social glue in the face of such a disaster? Voodoo people made what this country is. The glue is already there. The glue is our identity, we cannot question it. However many people oppose voodoo, do you think some will see this as a point to review Haitian culture? Many people oppose voodoo. But nobody can alter it because it is a part of us; without it our identity would be lost. I think our identity will have to be more solid. We must look to fortify our society because it is broken. What do people need at the moment? How can they be empowered? Through integrity. By joining the body and soul you work to get strength. But without integrity there is no strength. What do people fear now? I have read that many fear the “loup-garou”, a werewolf that eats children, and that lots of murderers and other hardened criminals have escaped from prison. No! Never. There have never been wolves. These are the bad things that Christians create to prevent cohesion between the Haitian people. The only thing people are scared about, and haunts them still, is another earthquake. Is there a fight for power? No fight. I fear people who cross the river do not change horses while in the middle of the stream. We have to support our government. We have to support the bastions of our society, because our reality cannot change. Thank you. So there you have it, the archetypal purifier: water. The souls are meant to return to water so that they may return refreshed. I kept close tabs for the 12th, a month after the earthquake. The mass prayers of Evangelists overshadowed any voodoo practice. I was told voodoo believers were gathering around ponds, in processions with Simbi, the spirit of rain. Now the dark nights are overfilled with the fears of unleashed demons. Women in the makeshift camps said to keep machetes under their beds in fear of sexual predators. The random wafts of the faceless victims still under the rubble a reminder of death’s hand and the spirits consumed still in the disaster. Fear now enters at a far deeper psychological level as believers feel the lost spirits may persecute on retribution of their past, wherefrom demons take over bodies rendering them powerless. Doctors are alert for paranoid schizophrenia. •Spirit of Fire God of Serpents St Francis of Assisi The Devil Simbi The Great Power of God Masonic Lwa 21 Divisions St Peter Words Gavin Haynes Pictures Nicolás Mezzadri the 50th Law of power 48 Laws of Power just aren’t enough for Robert Greene any more. You might say he’s power law-crazed. After uncovering a 49th law (in his Art of Seduction book), he’s dug up yet another one down the back of his capacious couch. And would you believe it: it’s also the central philosophical truth embedded in life story of entrepreneur and personality-rapper 50 Cent. Spewing up mumbo, and following it with a course of jumbo, Greene’s best-known work, The 48 Laws of Power, has become a rap battle-standard – an inspiration to the likes of Kanye, Jay-Z, Busta Rhymes and Fiddy, who personally requested the audience with Greene that later turned into their co-authored book: The 50th Law. Just like how, in the 90s, a million MBA grads boned-up on Sun Tzu’s Art Of War, in order to gain such potent boardroom insights as “attack when your enemy is weak”, so too a generation of rappers have thrown away their Russell Simmons books and thrilled to Greene’s assertions that life is essentially “the game”, that the Matrix-like false-realities of love and trust are to be avoided, and that people can be manipulated just as surely as pieces on a chessboard. Greene’s works are chiefly exercises in taking the spirit of The Prince, Machiavelli’s medieval classic of cynical self-interest, and welding it to the me-me-me psychobabble of the modern self-help industry. Here are some of the laws of power that made him famous: Never Outshine The Master Crush Your Enemy Totally Learn to Keep People Dependent on You Enter Action With Boldness Pose as a Friend, Work as a Spy Think as You Like But Behave Like Others What’s Behind the Green Door Let’s Take a Baby Into the Woods and Kill It Well, not the last two. But you get the gist. Pithy, hardball axioms, backed up by flawed post-hoc reasoning that applies them to the famous lives of, say, Napoleon Bonaparte, or Rommel, or Chairman Mao. The trouble is that, like rap itself, it is ridiculous if you try to apply its principles in the real world. Once you accept Greene’s central premise about how what we laughingly call reality is merely a paper-thin tissue of lies which we must seek to dominate by imposing our own lies via our iron will, it soon becomes impossible to know where the lies end. Greene is, after all, a guy who genuinely spent over a year pretending to be Irish to impress a girl he’d met. What kind of life-worth-living is that? In the promo video for the book, Fiddy signs off with the line: “Now go and create your own five-year plan for success,” and your already over-stoked suspicions make you wonder whether Greene has tried to subliminally undermine his subject by feeding him Stalin’s personal winning habit. Or is he merely flattering him with the comparison to absolute power? That’s the thing about the Laws: they’re truisms that can be backwards-interpreted to fit any data set you give them. So the book ends up playing off a formula that all sounds a bit like this: 1 A Worthy Historical Parable: In 49BCE, Caesar crossed the Rubicon, a river in Northern Italy. This was an effective declaration of war. It was now impossible for him to turn back from his mission. So he was forced to fight with maximum tenacity, therefore ensuring victory. 2 A Robert Greene Modern Interpretation: Like Caesar, 50 Cent has faced situtations that were impossible to turn back from. Having a hit record with “In Da Club” being one. It was being unable to “turn back” from overwhelming success that made him determined to fight ever harder against the forces of the music industry until he found more medium-term success. 3 A Robert Greene Moral: Understand, if you burn your bridges first, then you will be forced to fight harder, making victory more probable. 4 Reader’s Action: Throw book into road, drive over repeatedly. Like Caesar. The 50th Law itself is based on the central insight that Greene gained into Fiddy’s character from shadowing him for a few months. In case you can’t put down Tacitus long enough to wade through the chunks of filler Greene splurts, it is handily inscribed into the faux-leather pseudo-prayer book cover, in Latin: Nihil Timendum Est (Fear Nothing). “Fear, starting with the fear of death, holds us back from living fully,” Greene preens. That’s one way of looking at it. Fear is also, of course, a biological smoke-alarm that keeps us away from The Bad Things. Fiddy is well aware of this, as there’s an illustrative nugget he often tells interviewers. These days, see, he lives in Mike Tyson’s old house. Sleeps in Mike’s ex-bedroom in fact. That guy made $500 million in his career, then had it all leached away again by calamitous decisions and out-of-control spending. Fiddy ain’t nuttin’ like that. He is, after all, a dude who gouged $100 million out of selling his vitamin-water company to Coca-Cola in 2008. He’s shrewd and capricious with his cash. If he’s learned one thing, it’s to fear becoming Mike Tyson. On the other hand, what didn’t 50 Cent fear? He didn’t fear co-writing a book with a nerdy, goateed forty-something former Esquire editor. Timendum that. • KNEEL, WORM!What’s going on in the world of getting paid over the odds to treat people like shit? We met up with Mistress Darcy to find out. FUN: What was your first experience of dominating people? Mistress Darcy: It all started when I was about 15, but it was very subtle. I wasn’t water-boarding anybody, it was just fun being the one in control and being the one wielding my sexuality against somebody else. It was very natural and very strong, and, you know, when you’re 15 it’s the age of exploration around that time and then I kind of forgot about it and then came back to in New York, for money. Tell me about your clients. I would say my youngest client is around 18 and my oldest is maybe 65. So on average they are early 30s to mid-40s and typically businessmen. It’s very expensive as a lifestyle, but there are people who save up for two or three months to come in, but they are rare. Most of them are married. Have you had any particularly interesting or strange requests? Yesterday someone emailed me and asked me to violently wash his mouth out with soap. About a week ago someone called me and initially asked about food play, which is listed on my website. Then they started asking about force-feeding, the questioning started: “Would you spit food into my mouth?” Sure, yes. “Would you make me eat a worm?” Sure, yeah. “Living or dead?” I don’t know, living. “Would you make me eat any other bugs?” Sure, cockroaches, I’ll make you eat cockroaches. And then he asked, “Well what about a live mouse?” I said no. I have respect for the mouse. Any other tempting requests? One fellow wanted to fly me to Dubai to live in a five-star hotel and see him as little or as much as I wanted. And he was going to pay you? Well, no, I think he was just going to fly me out to Dubai and put me up in a hotel. I have had a few people approach me about TPE, which is Total Power Exchange, where I am in control of every aspect of their life, telling them what to wear and what jobs to have. All their money goes into a bank account that I have access to and I can take as much as I like. [phone rings – “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey] Hey baby, can I call you back in 20 minutes? Will you be around? Bye. OK, who was that; boyfriend or client? Client. I don’t have a boyfriend, it’s really hard to stay faithful in this business. Wait – do you have sex with the clients? Absolutely not, not even hand jobs, not even any nudity on my part, but the client has to get naked. I am not an escort. Though some people get confused. Some willfully get confused: “Oh sorry, I thought that was part of the job.” No, you wanker, get the fuck out. [phone rings again] Hello. For a minute. How long do you need? I’m in an interview, can you call me later? OK bye. You worked as a dominatrix in New York. Is it very different to the scene in London? In New York, there are fewer independents, there are a lot more houses set up, kind of like brothels. I worked in one of the better-known ones. I just remembered one of my favourite sessions so far.A young, very attractive man asked me to take him to a restaurant and pour my urine in his glass and make him drink it. It was great. So you got some pleasure out of that then? Yeah, then I spat on his ice cream. Sweet. • Our man in the field, shortly before a woman kicked the shit out of him for asking dumb questions “Yeah, his lack of self-respect was this big” Words Robyn SwyneFUN MAGAZINE vs ISLAMO FASCISM When you think about the unacceptable face of extreme British Islamism, one name springs to mind: Anjem Choudary. He’s the Muslim we love to hate. Tabloids rant about him, broadsheets write think pieces about why people give him so much attention and don’t see anything ironic about that. We met up with him to give him the sweet oxygen of publicity, and to talk about the nuances of press coverage in the digital age FUN: Who is your fave character on EastEnders? Anjem: EastEnders is glamourised lying. X Factor or Big Brother? Neither. Even if the X Factor contestants sang Islamic songs? No. Capitalism or communism? In capitalism, if you have a population of 60 million, you have 60 million loaves of bread, a man would buy 50 million of them and exploit the others, with communism, each person would… Wow! So which is best, Lord of the Rings or the Twilight Trilogy? These books pollute the mind and make people afraid. Pizza Hut or McDonald’s? Neither. What’s the meaning of life? Life is not about enjoying yourself! Ultimately, we have a purpose in life, we can’t just spend it doing nothing at all, just sitting in the sun! Tesco or Sainsbury’s? In this country you cannot buy a tin of beans without having a naked woman or naked man on it. That’s true! What would you give up first – porn, fags or booze? This has been going on for a long time now. Are we nearly finished? • Words Chantal Feduchin Pate Pictures FUN staff 10 REASONS WHY... Falsely accused date-rapists don’t deserve your sympathy 1 There’s only one type of girl who falsely accuses a guy of date-rape and you can spot them a mile off. If you’re thick enough to date one of these girls, then you deserve it when they follow through with what they are genetically predisposed to do. It’s like getting all angry when a tramp pisses on you in the street – what the fuck did you expect? 2 Usually the accused is a young, rich white boy who got daddy to pay for an awesome lawyer to get him off. This is the person who ends up getting a degree from Oxbridge because of his family name and eventually becomes CEO of a major bank that will steal your money and then blame you for it. 3 Four years ago, Michael Flatley was accused of rape and faced a jail term of at least a decade. Instead, it turns out the girl was lying and she had to pay him $11 million for his troubles. So, instead of the world being rid of his sweaty headband face for ten years, Michael Flatley was given 11 fucking million dollars for not raping someone. And he deserves the sympathy? 4 In America, this woman falsely accused a guy of rape for the publicity so she could get into porn. Seriously. It worked as well – he was found not guilty and she now works in adult films. So basically this man’s life is “ruined” ’cos he got to fuck a future porn star and then have everyone read about it? Whatevs. 5 Of the approximately 85,000 rapes that occur in the UK each year, only about 17 per cent get reported, of these about 9 per cent are said to be false claims. This equals about 1000 men. Which is probably the number of women who are earning equal pay in the UK. Seems sort of fair, right? 6 Some guys suffer so much from the ramifications of being falsely accused of rape that they kill themselves. These were obvs already pretty weak if all it took was one skank being a meanie for them to top themselves. Feeling sorry for pussies like that is like feeling sorry for a Hollywood starlet when her sex tape gets leaked – it was sort of inevitable, y’know? 7 The first false accusation of rape was in 1500 BC when Joseph turned down this dude’s wife who was totes up for a bang-fest. She was pissed about it so she falsely accused him of rape. He went to jail for two measly years, then was released and ended up becoming the most powerful man in the history of Egypt after Pharaoh. As with everything else in the Bible, this is clearly an accurate, literal and factual rule that is definitely still relevant today – being falsely accused of rape increases your chances of success exponentially. 8 You know damn well that the guy at the party who says he was falsely accused of rape and how horrible it was and how he could never even imagine committing such a heinous crime against a woman ’cos after all he was raised in a house of women, what with his single mum and three sisters, so the idea of inflicting any kind of pain on a woman, much less in such a grisly manner, is just anathema to him because, I mean, my God, women just deserve all the respect there is just for, y’know, just for being women and for giving life to all of us and how could he even think of hurting one of nature’s most precious creatures… is SO getting laid tonight. Probably with your girlfriend. 9 The more men win cases against girls for falsely accusing them of rape, the fewer actual rape victims will be believed and pretty soon girls will stop reporting or even talking about rape altogether and it’ll go back to how it used to be in the days of yore when girls just took it and it wasn’t called “rape”, it was called “female existence” and no one complained about it and the police had more time to deal with real problems like black people wanting to read and guys getting a little too friendly with one another and the world was a better place. A much better time for everyone, I think you’ll agree. So these “victims” of false rape accusations are actually tomorrow’s heroes! They’re starting a revolution! They deserve pride, not pity! 10 They probably fucking did it anyway. KILL LIFE Pro-eco anti-human hardcore Words FUN staff Pictures Peter Curtains FUN: What is Kill Life? Peter Curtains: Kill Life is a group that makes music, art and film supporting violence against the adult humans who are destroying our world. We stand for pro-eco and anti-human. We wish to make people aware of the damage they are doing to animals and to the environment through their disgusting, selfish actions. We make no illusions about being able to change humanity, we only want to see it destroyed. We recently chose the medium of hardcore music to express this anger and have recorded a number of songs with members from all over the world including Baltimore, Toronto, Ghent, London and New York.Who are the luminaries? The message is more important than the members. I’ve been lucky enough to employ the services of some dear friends and artists who’ve been making violent, visionary music for years. Having them all play together has been a great experience. When you get the record you can guess at who’s playing on it. All proceeds are going to A.T.W.A, which is an organisation that inspires but which is separate from KL and has much more positive views about the world than us. What’s going in in these collages? They can be about anything the viewer wants them to be, but some of the themes I had in mind when cobbling them are included in a song that we recently recorded called “Snake Kills Whole Family”. What’s that about? In Hoedspruit, South Africa there’s been a huge increase in attacks on women and children by black mamba snakes. These snakes contain enough venom to kill ten strong men. Why have these attacks increased? Greedy land developers have been needlessly building on land previously occupied by black mambas and so have disrupted the natural order of the Earth, thus resulting in an extreme payback. As we shed tears for the victims, we pray for revenge and extreme violence against the capitalist scum whose foul actions have caused this suffering. If people want to know more about Kill Life, including releases, films, merch, artwork or shows, email me at curtainsp@gmail.com. They can also visit us at killlife.com • YEP Four people who have much less authority and influence than their title suggests Bishop Aloysius Jin Luxian Leader of the Catholic Church in China Bishop Luxian is the most important recognised figure of a branch of the major denomination of the largest religious organisation in the world’s most populous nation. He is essentially the Barack Obama of Catholicism in China. This would make him a very powerful man, were it not for the fact that his religion is considered illegal in the country where he resides. In communist China, Catholics must be loyal to the State in every aspect of their day-to-day life, and must therefore renounce essential beliefs in Catholicism, such as the primacy of the Roman Pontiff, the Pope. Catholics who are loyal to the Pope must worship clandestinely to prevent being imprisoned. The Chinese government regularly persecutes and imprisons underground Catholics, and people who declare that they are Roman Catholics are forbidden from becoming citizens or even visiting as tourists. Poor old Bishop Luxian must feel as repressed as Jerry Seinfeld would doing the beer hall circuit in Nazi Germany in 1939.Captain Nebojša Joksimovi´c Commander of the Serb Navy In its heyday in the early 90s, the Yugoslav navy boasted 10,000 sailors, 25 coastal artillery batteries and close to 80 warships as it doggedly protected its rugged 4,000-kilometre shoreline. But the former state of Yugoslavia has long since disbanded, and following the declaration of independence from Montenegro in 2006, Serbia has become a landlocked country. Montenegro, whose territory sits by the Adriatic sea, inherited nearly all naval components of the former union – including all sea ports and navy bases – leaving Serbia’s navy with pretty much fuck all. The Serb navy continues to function as a real seafaring navy would, with all the ranks and positions of a much larger and more complex navy, but all it has are a couple of modest river patrol ships to sail up and down the Danube. Its commander is Captain Nebojša Joksimovi´c, who has been left with about as much seafaring clout as an impoverished fisherman (who can, at least, regularly drop anchor in the sea).Guramit Singh One of the English Defence League’s core leadership team The English Defence League is a far-right, anti-Islam organisation that preys on British people’s abject fear of terrorism and extremism. As you might expect, therefore, it is becoming very popular and rapidly expanding; as well as the thousands of followers in England, there are already offshoots in Scotland and Wales. The EDL holds rallies all across the country, which are nothing more than an excuse for the inbred, unemployed slobs who follow the group to have a day out from their gran’s house (where they live) to chant racist slogans with men who also have a handful of brain cells. One of the main faces of the group – and someone who is shoved in front of the press whenever there is a mention of racism – is Gurmit Singh, a British-born Sikh. Singh regularly gives speeches at rallies and whips the crowd into a frenzy by talking about all Muslims “burning in hell”, but what he is too naïve to realise is that the braindead, bigoted untermenschen who support the EDL probably think that all Asians are Muslims. So he is basically getting cheers for telling people that he will die a horrifically painful death while the devil cackles loudly in his face. Realistically, he has as much chance of getting the respect and support of members of the EDL as Dizzee Rascal does of taking over from Nick Griffin as the leader of the BNP.Meena Keshwar Kamal Leader of the Revolutionary Association of the Women of Afghanistan (RAWA) There is no name more synonymous with women’s rights in fundamentalism-blighted Afghanistan than Meena Kehswar Kamal. At the age of 21 she founded Afghanistan-based feminist group RAWA, before going on to set up bi-lingual feminist magazine Payam-e-Zan (Women’s Message). In 1976, she married Afghanistan Liberation Organisation leader Faiz Ahmad to form a political power couple – the late-70s Posh & Becks of human rights in Afghanistan, if you will. But, as you will be aware, human rights are in short supply in Afghanistan – especially when it comes to women. Meena is the leader of a women’s rights group in a country that thinks women don’t deserve rights. Even in the post-Taliban government era, the plight of women is shockingly dire. In 2009, a legislation was passed which allowed husbands to deny wives food if they fail to obey sexual demands. It also granted guardianship of children exclusively to their fathers and grandfathers, and requires women to get permission from their husbands to work. The tragic denouement to this story is that Meena no longer has any power whatsoever because she is dead. She was allegedly assassinated by agents of the Afghan secret police. RAWA have kept their martyred hero as their leader to this day,probably because they know if they were to name a new leader they would be shot too.