In 83, I Think

Somewhere between September and November, I lost my way into space time, took the wrong turn on the precedent vortex. Too much "Space Is The Place". I've been listenning to Prince's "1999" again. Actually, It's a pretty damn good album. I forgot all about it. I have spent the last ten hours chopping drums, synth and bass from several songs. I am recording a few dancefloor tracks with that. I need to widen my styles.

Also, I am so close to finish the shooting script for my short cut. It will take place in an abandon warehouse, sort of a foot pursuit but in a twisted way.

Somehow I have managed to see the whole 4th season of The Wire.
What bugs me is the availability of it before it is actually shown on TV. How can that happen ? Don't give me the piracy excuse. There is a major failure inside the system, all the way down.

Stop blaming everything and everybody for what you can't manage yourself.

Nazi & UFO

don't give a F if that's true or not...

The Nazi UFO Secret
The Nazi-UFO Connection
Les Nazis en Antartique (in French)
Hitler's UFO Projects
UFOs & Wonder Weapons
Nazi UFOs
Des disques volants nazis aux Ovnis militaires
(in French)

"Came From My U.F.O."

I arrive in front of "The Klub" (which is really labeled "Le Club" wtf ?) by accident. This place is like hidden in the middle of the street, it can easily get unnoticed. You have to ring to get the door opened, like a fucking private sex saloon. A big black guy welcomes me with his no expression face. I say "Hi", no response, classic Paris style. I then approach the cashier girl with the psychobilly haircut. Fuck ! When am i ? 1987 ? I ask her if I can leave during the concert to make a phone call then be back. She answers that there's 100 people in here and if everybody wants to do like me, that will become a problem so it's impossible. Wtf ? Fuck ! Fuck me ! Ok, I came here to have a good time. I pay the girl and walk down the stairs. A few guys are hanging out, staring at me like baboons on ketamine, I say hello, they don't answer back. Great. Paris style, I know. I enter the room. Noise music is filling the place, I can't see the stage, this place is a fucked up piece of interior installation. I see the bar. I need a drink. Straight up. I need to cool down. The beer taste like cheap piss, served in tiny plastic cup, €3,5. Fuuuuuuck ! I make my way into the crowd. I spend 30 minutes trying to see what is going on the stage. It's hot, it lacks air. There is no ventilation except in the side areas where you can't see a thing. Heat and suffocation are becoming too much for me. I am too old to sweat like a punk rock kid, especially listenning to noise music made by a big ass tatooed french bearded guy. Wait...the music is changing. Spectre is now on stage, speaking extra low zombie voice. Dub basses are hitting my stomach. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten so much Ramadan cakes. I hit the bar once again. I order a €6,5 big ass beer for my big ass annoyment, lit up a cigarette and take a big ass puff. I turn around and see Sensational on his way to the stage. I hit the crowd. All these snow whites are bugging me out. Like packed sheep, they don't move. Fuuuuck. I force my way to the other side of the venue, excuse me, fuck you, excuse me, fuck you...Man, it's hot. I reach the left side of the stage. Damn, there's air in here and very few people. Bang ! Sensational is on, blasting, drinking, smoking, rhyming, getting his freak on. Baby Cart is playing in the background. The Ill Saint is pulling beats one after the other. Kouhei now joins the stage, he is pumping cucumber sliced beats like Itto Ogami is slicing legs Suio school style. Man ! They played like two hours and I didn't noticed time was flowing. That was amazing. I walk to the merchandise table, cope the new Sensational CD, walk through the door, Sensational is trying to run upon a girl, he's fucked up, I am tired. A nice japanese girl is handing me a flyer, she's the one who handed me this night flyer 15 days ago at some crazy bar in Belleville, she was with Kouhei that night. I walk home, sparkling trees, listening to a Citizen kane mix. Paris is a good city to live and die in.