Tag: Deep Scratch

  • To The Five Cereals God

    Spring wind from the East
    Whispers of four seasons killer king at large
    Falling on deaf ears like snowflakes

    Flowers burst late winter messaging
    Sun’s fire and flood yin and yang
    Man’s dumb bones silent and thick
    The birds and bees return
    I sigh with pain and with relief
    The mountains and the milky way do not care
    For my mouthful of air
    When will I see my family again
    Who will we have become
    What of the badger fox and pheasant populations

    A Tsunami of novelty wash over gold
    Sunset on the horizon
    Its sudden beauty deceives man
    A novel king puzzle virus moves like a god
    Invisible almighty all-powerful creator and destroyer
    The slugs go about their twisted business
    Fish return to the river
    Men to their cave
    Sorrow on the air like bird song

    The countermeasures worse than the illness
    Thank goodness for Shen Nung
    The five cereals god
    Hemp cannabis and cheerfulness

    Funny thoughts dissolve
    As the long night approaches
    I start a poem and the moon sways
    Simple good health cheer for all
    May the cereal gods be bountiful
    May the rains not fail to fall
    May the greedy pulldown vanity
    Let us swear to meet again in the new world after
    Future

    –Steve Fly
    29/03/2020

  • Rutte Cash – Featuring Squintin Quarantino

    Vocals recorded by Tim Egmond
    19/03/2020

    Turntables Recorded 28/03/2020
    Feat. Defari – Change And Switch
    (Instrumental)

    http://www.deepscratch.net

    #FlattenTheCurve

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  • 2019 YEAR IN REVIEW – BLADERUNNER FIRES

    2019 YEAR IN REVIEW – BLADERUNNER FIRES

    FIRE! FIRE!
    POUR ON WATER, POUR ON WATER

    The world is on fire! Literally and figuratively. Don’t panic. The gap between the richest and poorest is growing, and seems set to keep growing, as nations continue to repeat history and vote for the toughest big-daddy they can, to protect them from foreign influences, or rather the foreign influences not paid for. Don’t panic. Often I think to myself…I’d like to retreat to a cave and sharpen my pencils, watch TV and be blissfully unaware of all the drama out there.” No, this is the last day of 2019 and we are awake.

    2019, 365 days that changed the world? Much different from 2018? Hotter or richer or poorer? Here’s my round-up of things that impinged on my nervous system, balanced between events in my life and those on the world stage. 2019 was bittersweet. I could say, the world has gone to hell, but I’m all right Jack, but I try to avoid sounding like a self-centred idiot who only talks about himself and his interests. Truth, beauty, excellence and compassion are my weapons of choice. Lets burst the big pimples first. Let us not look away from the violence, but try to understand the root causes and organize together to prevent division and hatred.

    To scrape the surface of the year in politics speak, from the opening play on January 1st, when right-wing fucktrumpet, Jair Bolsonaro started his unholy presidency in Brazil, and sets the worrying tone of the rise of right-wing populism across the world, ending in 2019 with Boris “Hard Right Brexit” Johnson, sweeping to victory after the dirtiest and expensive smear campaign Britain has ever seen, as if organized by United Snakes. Feb 1st, Trump signs off America from the mid-range Nuclear treaty, Putin responds with the same the next day. March 15, 51 people murdered in Christchurch, New Zealand, by a racist lunatic called Brenton. The same day, Greta Thunberg returns to Sweeden as a figurehead of a worldwide climate awareness movement. April 10th, first-ever image of a Black Hole M87 Galaxy, the first glimpse of Trump UK trade-deal. April 11th, Julian Assange arrested in London. April 21st, the Sri Lanka Terror attacks result in 500 murdered by religious extremists. April 29, Isis nut, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, releases footage of Sri Lanka Terror attacks, he’s clearly mentally ill but treated by the media as some kind of criminal mastermind. May 1st, Bad Vlad Putin signs the Sovereign Internet bill into law (In which he can hack British sovereignty at the source, sucks it all up, and funnel it back over to the Kremlin for the Skeksis to lap up.) May 6th, Syrian army launches ground attack on last rebel stronghold in the country. May 24th, Maybot plans shut down of her dancing queen program. June 3-5th, Trump balloon visits the UK and the Queen, cheeses with the Maybot and Boris the lapdog. June 7th, Maybot dancing queen stops dancing for Tories, a new beast is required to be born. July 17th, Netflix star, El Chapo, is sentenced to life in prison. July 24th, Boris Johnson becomes the UK prime mongrel, voted in by less than 0.4% of the UK. His lies begin in overdrive. August 3rd, mass shooting in a U.S Wallmart store leaves 23 people dead, the racist shithead shooter targeted Mexicans. August 10th, child rapist billionaire friend of Prince Andrew, Jeffery Epstein dies in jail, reports are that he killed himself? August 21st, Amazon wildfires rage as Bolsonaro does sweet fuck all. September 10th, Boris and the Tories prorogued Parliament, shutting it down in a Trump-like manner. September 20th, International climate strikes. September 24th, a British court ruled prorogued parliament was void, Boris did indeed do a Trump move. October 17th, Trump pulls U.S troops in Syria, away from helping the Syrian army, blessing Turkey to invade, all to “protect the oil”.  October 19th, 1 million March in London for the second referendum on Brexit. October 27th, Trump announces that Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi is dead, killed by American weapons. October 30th, Twitter bans all political advertising worldwide. November 21st, Ben Netanyahu is indicted on charges of fraud and bribery. Nov 26th, Chilean protests, 50 protestors require prosthetic eyes after police shoot in the face. December 12th, Tories win UK general election, with Boris leading the UK into a Brexit more than half the country does not want. “Just Get On With It,” combined with “Love Actually,” spoke in volumes to the soul of English exceptionalism. Dec 18th, the orange-to-peach balloon becomes the third U.S president in history to be impeached for meddling in the 2020 elections, the least of his long litany of crimes. Dec 20th, U.S Space force founded by the orange windmill king. Wildfires continue to burn across Australia, wiping out millions of animals and their habitats, homes, and some people, leaving Sydney in a hot fog, and new highest temperatures set every week. Ian Duncan Smith, the Godfather of Universal Credit and the war on vulnerable people in the UK, is bestowed a Knighthood by the British Crown. That about sums up the UK nicely, politically speaking.

    Phew, but we made it through didn’t we? First off, a toast to those who didn’t, those that passed over to the great trade-deal in the sky in 2019, in particular, Jake Black, who I had the pleasure of knowing a little bit, rest easy friend. The Zen Bastard Paul Krassner checked out, one of my all-time favourite American’s, who first published a piece of my writing (Magic Mushrooms: From Toad Slime To Ecstacy, 2003,) and was present at a most memorable mind-bending afternoon with Robert Anton Wilson in Palm Springs, 2000. Paul kept in touch with me via email whenever he could write, his contributions to the western countercultural tradition are incalculable. Know his name. Paul Krassner, R.I.P. The great Dr John, and Art Neville, both natives of New Orleans had their traditional Jazz Funerals, and full musical send-offs, or carry-ons. And the psychedelic twin of Timothy Leary turned yogi and dharma teacher, Baba Ram Dass, passed into the clear light of bliss. Rutger Hauer and Ginger Baker also left the world stage leaving behind them large bodies of excellent art. To all my friends who may have lost a family member or friend this year, may they’re memory live on eternally and their souls rest in peace. One statistic that you can’t argue with overtime is that the older you get the more dead people you know. Honour your ancestors with life-affirming actions and thinking, music, merrymaking and contemplation as you see fit, that’s my best advice for dealing with the grief of 2020 and beyond. Enough about the dead, let’s get onto some of the living critters who have set 2019 alight, and who will certainly be caught playing with matches in 2020.

    First, my three to watch and study in 2020. The goodies. If you take anything away from this year in review, make it these three names: Bruce Sterling, Cory Doctorow and Alan Moore. For me, the holy trinity of the next decade, each fully capable of turning it all around, if…IF…we could be so bold and brave as to listen, compute, understand, and share that good stuff. As Douglas Rushkoff said, program or be programmed. For me, the next decade will be dominated and in the hands of those who can program, write and juggle legal facts to the degree that Cory Doctorow is capable, present design-science innovation and tech-criticism to the calibre of Bruce Sterling, and synthesize Art and Magick in the grain of Alan Moore. And so, to the villains.

    My first three to watch are predictable, Trumpet Booris Pootin. The three claws of the new Tsarist Anglo American alliance, playing cold war games with their billionaire friends, foes, and who the fuck knows. But that’s obvs. Steve Bannon is a better villain to keep your eye on, he’s smarter than Trump. In the same fashion, I’d say, learn from Jacob Reece Mogg, a nasty but smart English motherfucker, if you want to fight. Boris is the distraction like Trump, in 2020 you might be fitter if you filter-out the dog whistle alt. right bait, and the pumped-up lies and bluster guaranteed to be splattered all over 2020 UK tabloids. Reading and sourcing some Mogg literature, and a study of law will be much more helpful in the long run. Watch Tommy Yaxley Lennon Robinson if you like, but there’s nothing new to learn here since early hominids leant how to use clubs, you’d be smarter watching a chocolate fudge sundae melt, look for a worthy intellectual opponent in 2020. And, perhaps learn some self defense? Find the smartest racist you can, and study them. If you want to fight, take the strongest opposing argument to your own, first. Racism, Anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, Xenophobia are all built on a logical fallacy, and categorical untruth in the first place. A part of the problem in 2019 is that many are not doing philosophy and social psychology, and such intellectual pursuits are increasingly branded lefty cultural Marxism. In 2019 a meme goes around the world seven times before a PhD. thesiskeksis footnotes on! The domain of the thick, the stupid, and the ignorant, is the domain of categories and group-think. Overemphasis on nationality and not enough emphasis on the unique individual. The fact remains movements, based on gene-pool ignorance, are founded on lies and blind-faith based thinking, the opposite of scientific – research-based thinking. The wars of the words will continue up until the Chinese written character puts a backstop on the limping 26 letters, and English crumbles away into Finnegans Wake completely.

    Highlights for me this year, personally speaking on a creative tip are, editing and releasing my paper The Entourage Effect At Finnegans Wake, concerning Cannabis Terpenes, and the perfumed language of James Joyce. Visited the Island of Kos in Greece with sweet Janne, spending quality time with cats on the beach, shells on the bottom of the ocean and the Tree Of Hippocrates, and the Hippocratic oath. Opened a night of funk and jazz in for DJ Eddie Pillar, who chatted for a while and made my weekend. Played a DJ set for Red Light Radio, and 3 sessions at the Hill Street Booze Bar in the centre of Amsterdam. For Radio Free Amsterdam I recorded more than 40 one-hour shows this year and made lots of artwork for the station continuing into 2020 with brother John Sinclair. I tracked some turntable work for a new tune with Garaj Mahal, that should be coming out in 2020, we will be jamming.

    2019 marks the year I studied turntable beat-juggles, and in nine months, with an average of practicing around 10 hours per month, I can hold a beat, deploy a few tricks and new techniques. I will continue the practice, and craft some ready-made routines, and make some tight tracks. Maybe I’ll get out there for battle someday. Much of the driving impetus to learn to juggle and scratch better, came from working on my novel (trans-media project) called Deep Scratch. I figured that, if I’m writing about DJ’s I should learn to do what I’m writing about, with the bonus of making soundtrack material for the trans-media project. I started filming practice sessions, and uploading them to Youtube to help gauge any progress. In 2020 I may finally land on Serato software, a decade after every other DJ went over to the digital side. It’s not cheap to get up and running. Nuff’ about me? How you doing? If you got this far your probably thinking of books and albums that you like or want to make, and perhaps you have stories you want to tell? Now is the time, publish or perish. Be bold, say it loud. “Do it now!” Try not to lose your centre fighting the world. Please, check your facts in 2020, your life may depend on it. Oh, and do art.

    If you want to link with my britinternational.org ensemble join me at Patreon.com/stevefly  Make your own account and I’ll support you back. Or else, create some other such community-based network of like-minded individuals, help the vulnerable, the disabled, the homeless if you can. Visit them. I’d advise occasionally stepping away from the digital mobile-screen-world and reconnecting with community and nature in equal measure. Recharge you charity next to the stream. As cliche as that may sound. You will have to compromise at some point, you will have to let go, to be able to swing and grab something new, and let go again, things in motion and motion in things. Oh, and the post-quantum superimposition revolution, coupled with Artificial General Intelligence, Internet Of Things, 5G, and the global industrial military entertainment complex is sure to deliver some, lively, stuff. You need cognitive security! Maybe Logic and Multi-Model Agnosticism are a good place to start. Start now. Bladerunner, remember the future?

    I raise a toast to an independent hand-made, hand-printed 2020, of and for the people. The new art and literature and ecological innovations are here with us. Stay awake. Love all the people. I wish you good luck and happy trails, enjoy every success on the path ahead.

    xx

    –Steve Fly

  • Bobby Reefer R.I.P

    Bobby Reefer.

    Bobby! Bobby. Man, this cat. Let me tell you about this cat. Bobby was the coolest hippest cat you ever met. Bobby spent a good 7 years of his life in the 420 Coffeeshop in Amsterdam, where I was fortunate to share a few thousand hours together with the rascal. We were pretty close, I mean, we had a good time together at the cafe’ and to be honest more people will remember Bobby than will remember me, but that’s cool. Bobby deserves to live in eternal memory as the legendary cat of Amsterdam coffeeshop 420.

    I was there when he first walked in the door, no really, he just walked into the coffeeshop, a kind-of stray cat, looking for some adventure and food. Bwoy did he find it. The 420 Cafe’ was the perfect cafe to pick due to the fact that Max, the previous 420 Coffeeshop cat, had recently died and there was space availbale for a new puss to move in. Who knows, perhaps the previous owner shoved him through the door, either way, as soon as we saw each other I kind of knew we would become colleagues. Sho’ nuff, Bobby hung around, and after some proper cat food and sweet treatment he found a home at the cafe. Eventually getting special bedding, treats, knuffles, and even his own room which was bigger than mine, and free of charge.

    Within a few short weeks Bobby was up on my lap (back in the day when you had time to sit down in a coffeeshop, and maybe read something) creating the cozy atmosphere that cats and humans enjoy. Sitting purring, minding his own business. A cool cat…unlike a lot of tourists, Bobby could shit in the right place, and even managed to control his vomitting-up of mouse body parts with a certain, je ne sais quoi. A true gentleman cat.

    When not on my lap, Bobby would often be sat to my left, on the hash and weed dealer counter, seemingly asleep or very relaxed, until…some customer would take the liberty of touching him. Oh man, I’ll never forget the scratches and hisses you gave to those heavy handed motherfuckers, hahaa. Serves em’ right. Some might say he was too rough, or too quick to pounce, I will always love Bobby for his scratching, that made fine entertainment for the regulars, and staff, who knew what Bob was capable of and who anticipated a deep scratch and a hiss when some over confident mofo’ touched that particular part of his back. “Go get em’ Bobby”.

    Bobby made the whole shop his turf, patrolling the tables both under and over for mice and men, sometimes deciding to sprawl out across a table like a lion sunbathing, often getting small amounts of weed stuck to his mottled fur, becoming a kind of weedy mammoth cat. What a legend.

    Since the gov. project to close down many coffeeshops around the central area of Amsterdam, the 420 Coffeeshop got busier and busier, to the point where life for Bobby, and some staff, became unworkable. Eventually Bobby was relieved of his duties and went to live in Amsterdam East, where I was fortunate to visit him a few times. As most cool cats do, Bobby didn’t seems to remember me when I met him again after a few years away, I was expecting it to be just like old times, but he was older now, perhaps 18, and seemed to want nothing more than to be left alone, sleeping, dreaming of scratching pot tourists.

    Today, October 22nd, 2019, I got the news that Bobby took his last trip to the vet, and was “put down” as they say in England. On the contrary, today Bobby was put up! Up there with “Miffy” “Zack” “Grover” and a few other cats I was fortune to spend time with, and millions of others, gone but not forgotten.

    Bobby Reefer (1998–2019)

    #DeepScratch

    Bobby, 2019 (Amsterdam East)
  • DEEP SCRATCH – WE’RE GOING WIRELESS

    DEEP SCRATCH – WE’RE GOING WIRELESS

    “We’re going wireless.” The TTM is the first example of nonfiction from fiction, spun throughout these turntale-bull chapters. Making real-world objects (whatever the real world is in 2019?) books and vinyl records, taken from within this wonky turvy fictional-verse under your eyelids: Deep Scratch History World.
    Plush shuffled up close to the turntables with a Lenny Bruce L.P in one hand, and some William Burroughs wax in the other.

    DEEP SCRATCH ONE


    “What is a cat, if he can’t scratch?”
  • Deep Scratch – Release

    Deep Scratch – Release

    Hi,

    Please consider supporting Deep Scratch at https://www.patreon.com/stevefly

    Expect fireworks, audio, video.

    Much love, Steve Fly

    DEEP SCRATCH ONE

  • Prick Pop 18 In Verse

    And 2 hours before the stage collapsed, I had a mad dream:

    Small J Twotson and Kunst Wankula and
    Sarghole of Dickwadd, and Loo Yapooloose prepared
    to take the Daily Foil stage.
    It’s prick pop 18.

    A sea of thousands of white faces look out
    the occasional dot of brown and black
    most dressed in white
    teeth gleaming white hands in the air
    Waving teutonic symbols on flags

    Wankula slithers up onto the stage first
    his whisky cheeks bulging with vomit readymade
    backstage by Loo.

    Next the figure of Dickwad dressed
    as the flabby Sultan of smug village with tiny printed
    versions of himself badly ironed onto orange shorts

    Small Joe was dressed up in full
    military uniform, with a few stains around the crotch,
    he launched Alex Jonesin’ brand tactical wet wipes
    as if he psychically knew what was about to happen next
    (stole from John Oliver)

    Loo stepped up from behind his hair like a donut
    iced with Vanilla drizzle, his shades jiggled around
    and in that moment he suddenly resembled
    every male teenage idol in western history,
    Backstreetzone Biebergun Kelly.

    Half the crowd jizzed in synch
    catching it with the handy Al Jones wipe.
    And the band were yet to start.

    The first number was titled “Femministasi”
    an all white male chorus of victim-techno
    Gammonati music, like
    “The PC left stole my kitten called Klaus”
    “Where can I stroke my Unicorn now?”

    Sarghole got down on his knees near the end of
    the tune and drank from Wankula’s
    water bottle singing “I suck”

    Other notable musical abortions include
    “Brokebuck Brexit Stomp”
    “She’s a man now”
    and “Immigrant Song” a new one
    crafted by the four snakes while having tea with
    Tubby Rubberneck.

    Twotson gave out 14 kilos
    of cafeine substitute (called Jonesin) to the crowd
    they chomped it up like good little consumers.

    Next a special guest appearance
    J Peedhimself, doing an impression of Christopher
    Lee while singing on the Prick Pop anthem
    “Stairway To Oblivious”, a song about a bridge made of kippers
    that enables a torrent of frog memes to slop
    into the democratic sewer system
    and infect humanity with a case of the stupids.

    High on Jonesin, the crowd went rampant for Peed
    and some pee’d their own pants laughing.
    The brave scrambled over the fences to grab
    more combat wet wipes and jizz another one off
    before the song was over.

    But it wasn’t over, for an encore,
    out came the oldright all stirs
    Morrissey came out, dancing, mumbling,
    and fell down on Wankula injuring his forehead.

    Rungo Stars came walking out, like an aged hobbit
    his drum sticks were red and white.
    Ned Poogent scuttled onto stage like a steroid accident,
    his anger and smugness only matched
    by Ulk Hogoon and Vanilla Ice.

    Finally Sid Cock flies down from the roof dressed as missile
    he raps on “All you need is hate”
    the crowd echo their lines back at them:
    “Start hating, start fighting, we need
    freedom for our greed, for our greeeeeed’.

    The band slowly fizzle out like a booze band
    of washed up losers and youtube
    celebrity shitbags.

    The crowd vomiting and jizzing on each other
    trading used wet wipes as souvenirs
    the Jonesin formula turned out to be cut
    with Pony prostate pills.

    The happy fascists stop recording each other
    and go home to watch Top Gear

    (The line up for Prick Pop 18 includes the band
    Clarkson Darkson, Infidel Shannon, Pantsterra
    Misses PC, and The Ghost Of Jerry Fallwell.
    Speakers include: Stevil Bannon, Nigel Mirrage
    Bill The Swill Etherag, and Marine La Poison Pen.)

    Get your tickets now, while your bile is still bubbling.
    25% Off for Prick Pop Klan members.