Moderate Mitt isn’t so moderate

The return of Kony 2012

...The oddest thing about the video may be how much time it devotes to the circumstances leading up to co-founder Jason Russell's naked public meltdown in San Diego last year, including reality show-style behind-the-scenes footage of Invisible Children leadership meetings following the release of Kony 2012, during which Russell appears on the verge of tears over the criticism the group has received. According to the film's telling, it was the stress from the dozens of interviews Russell did as well as the unexpected negative feedback he received from some quarters that drove Russell over the edge.
I don't mean to be insensitive to whatever personal mental health issues Russell was facing and wouldn't bring this up if the group hadn't made it a centerpiece of the video, but it seems a bit unseemly for an organization dealing with child victims of mutilation and sexual assault to devote so much of its pitch to self-pity over some nasty blog posts.

Via

Mogwai - George Square Thatcher Death Party (Justin K Broadrick Reshape)

Download
A Wrenched Virile Lore is a collection of remixes of tracks from Mogwai's critically acclaimed *Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will* album. Featuring contributions from a diverse range of artists from Zombi to The Soft Moon, this record offers some unique and inspired interpretations of Mogwai's seventh studio album. Available on CD and 2xLP (with digital download code).
Tracklist:
George Square Thatcher Death Party - (Justin K Broadrick Reshape)
Rano Pano - Klad Hest (Mogwai is My Dick RMX)
White Noise (EVP Mix by Cylob)
How To Be A Werewolf - (Xander Harris remix)
Letters To The Metro - (Zombi remix)
Mexican Grand Prix - (reworked by RM Hubbert)
Rano Pano (Tim Hecker remix)
San Pedro - (The Soft Moon remix)
Too Raging To Cheers - (Umberto remix)
La Mort Blanche - (Robert Hampson remix)
Mogwai's Website http://mogwai.sandbag.uk.com/awrenchedvirilelore/
Follow Mogwai on Twitter https://twitter.com/mogwaiband
Like Mogwai on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/mogwai
Mogwai on Tour http://www.subpop.com/tours/mogwai
Release Date: 2012-12-04 (CD), 2012-11-23 (2xLP)

Lennon: 'Yoko's been an artist before you were even a groupie'

(Click to enlarge)
MORE

You really can't make this up!

Flying Lotus - Diplo & Friends Mix (BBC Radio 1 6/10/12)

Download
Tracklist:
Flying Lotus Feat. Niki Randa - Getting There
Flying Lotus - Flotus [Unreleased]
Flying Lotus - Zodiac S**t
Flying Lotus Feat. Earl Sweatshirt And Captain Murphy - Between Friends
Flying Lotus - I Don't Know Yet [Unreleased]
Flying Lotus - The Nightcaller
Captain Murphy - The Killing Joke
Posij - Empty Lungs
Flying Lotus - Sultan's Request
AraabMuzik - Outer Limits
Chrissy Murderbot - Girl
Flying Lotus - Putty Boy Strut
Flying Lotus - Pie Face
Flying Lotus - Melt!
Flying Lotus - Binge Eating Without You [Unreleased]
Flying Lotus - See Thru To U
Mono/Poly - Los Angeles
Labrinth - Earthquake (Nosia Remix)
? - Ghosts [Unreleased]
Jay Z & Kanye West - In Paris (Flying Lotus Remix) [Unreleased]
ScHoolboy Q Feat. A$AP Rocky - Hands On The Wheel
Flying Lotus - Dance Of The Pseudo Nymph
The Gaslamp Killer Feat. Amir Yaghmai - Nissim
The Gaslamp Killer Feat. Gonjasufi - Apparitions
The Gaslamp Killer Feat. Adrian Younge And MR - Dead Vets
The Gaslamp Killer Feat. Dimlite - 7 Years Of Bad Luck
Connan Mockasin - Faking Jazz Together
Daedelus & Computer Jay - Flying Sail [Unreleased]
DJ Rashad - CCP
EPROM - 808 Ride [Unreleased]

Bill Hicks

Indianapolis 1985

Austin 1989

Chicago 1990

Montreal 1991

London 1992
Bill Hicks on Australia

Fuck 5:1 Surround Sound!!!

Via

Is 'Sex Addiction' a Legitimate Excuse for Cheating?

Rake's Progress (Julie Burchill on John Peel 1999)

There are two sorts of sacred cows, just like there's a Whopper and a filet mignon. The first sort of cow is one that we know is sacred, but we're - titter, snigger - covertly encouraged to attack it, both for pleasure and profit. That would be the Queen and Cliff Richard.
The second would be the Queen Mother and John Peel. Show me a filet mignon and I become a mad cow. John Peel has become 'our' - and, by that, I mean people who consider themselves enlightened and unburdened by tradition - Queen Mother. He needs taking out; if only in a caring way, for his own good.
He is in danger of reaching hands-off, Help The Aged status: 60 years old, and he's still got all his own teeth, sorry, all his own Fall records!
I've always loathed John Peel. It started in the Sixties when I was a child, still staggering under the first blow of benediction by black music. All day long on Radio 1 - most of all, on Tony Blackburn's show - you could hear great creamy earfuls of it: Motown by the mile, Philly by the furlong. But at night Radio 1 became a white desert. It became 'intelligent'. That is, it became male, hippy and smelly - it became John Peel.
I hated him in the Seventies, too, because he liked punk, long after punk - the whitest, malest, most asexual music ever - should have been left to die an unnatural death. I'd been a punk, and knew that the whole thing was, frankly, shit in safety pins. We came to bury the music industry; we ended up giving it one almighty shot in the arm.
In the Eighties, someone gave me as a kitsch gift a Sixties pop annual. I'll never forget John Peel in it, talking about his father's absence during his infancy: "He was off playing soldiers." Reader, this man was fighting in the second world war.
What did YOU do in the war, Daddy? Well, John Peel caught VD, and banged on about it. Until recently, Peel banged on a lot about sex. Like many an ugly Englishman, he went to America, where that nation's young women found a Limey accent so beguiling that they barely looked at the face it came out of: "All they wanted me to do was abuse them, sexually, which, of course, I was only too happy to do,"
Peel told the Guardian in 1975. "Girls," he said to the Sunday Correspondent in 1989, "used to queue up outside oral sex they were particularly keen on, I remember one of my regular customers, as it were, turned out to be 13, though she looked older."
This was the Sixties. Fleeing America after the authorities quite rightly objected to him having sex with young teenage girls, Peel was joined by his wife, Shirley, a Texan girl, who was 15 when he married her.
Talking to the Correspondent about this young woman, now dead by her own hand, Peel seems strangely censorious: "She fell in with some extremely dodgy people she married three more times after me, and I was the only husband by whom she didn't have a child.
All the children were in care. She did some terrible things, you know. She didn't deserve to die, though." Somebody give that man a medal!
Scratch a hippie and find a sexist - well into the Seventies, Peel was drooling on about "schoolgirls", in print and on air, where his Schoolgirl Of The Year competition was quietly laid to rest during punk's tenure. I always thought the alleged Sexual Revolution of the Sixties was not a bid to advance women's rights, but rather to block them, to turn back the clock and push the brave new young working woman back to being barefoot and pregnant. Even the appearance approved for hippie women - long skirts, long hair - spoke of an earlier era, before girls raised their skirts and bobbed their hair and went out to earn a living.
Knowing of Peel's rather sticky track record on matters sexual, it seems both wildly inappropriate and somehow totally fitting that his latest venture is the radio critic's favourite Radio 4 programme, Saturday morning's Home Truths, which, as its name implies, is a deeply reactionary idea masquerading as a droll, down-to-earth sideswipe.
Home Truths concerns itself with family matters, both bitter and sweet. These may be as unimportant as the reluctance of teenagers to tidy their rooms or as serious as the alleged False Memory Syndrome, but they are linked by one overriding belief: that after all politics, after all ideas, there is the Family. And that the Family, alone of all institutions, is as natural as breathing.
This is, of course, untrue; the Family is a construct like any other, one that has been propped up by a million years of hellfire warnings ("Marry or burn" - so-called "Saint" Paul) and that, the moment the pulpit-bullying ceased, broke down with amazing swiftness.
Everyone's got a right to get old and fat - hell, it's practically my raison d'être - but I find it filthily objectionable for someone who has grown rich and respected for preaching the Sixties mantra, "If it feels good, do it!", suddenly to come over so cosy and domestic that it would have Oxo Katie reaching for an icepick.
Peel, being middle class, managed to survive the Sixties, and then thrive in the decades that followed. But for the young working class, the road of excess led to madness, alienation and incarceration; and for the girls who got hip to the Sixties slogans about sexual generosity, a joyless shag led to nothing but a council flat and the end of youth before they were entitled to vote.
I don't blame Peel for changing his mind. But I do blame him for rubbing the nation's collective nose in the fact that the well-connected can walk on the wild side and return to the fold, whereas the working class need only stray once off the straight and narrow to be trapped in a cul-de-sac of sorrow.
A public schoolboy who calls his children after footballers, a lover of World Music who happily took the Order of the British Empire, a landowner who does commercials for toilet paper and Playstations and yet calls himself a Bennite, a past 'abuser' of children who preaches Family Values in excelsis: it is not, as his fans like to say, a wonder that Radio 1 has not sacked him in 30 years. No, in all his patronising, phoney, hypocritical glory, he is Radio 1. Lord Reith would be proud.
Via