The Worship St Irregulars

Indeedy. Thanks fo r the image, Cory.

For those lucky, lucky people who can party on a Sunday night, check out Wet Yourself! at Club Aquarium pretty much every Sunday night. Before you make a clever quip in your head about going for a dip in the aquarium, I can confirm it does have a pool as well as some dirty ditch beats. If you don’t believe, check out the photos on We Know What You Did Last Night.com (awesome site for scenester and fashionista spotting) right here.

To recant some epic scenester fail we heard on the way to Today is Boring last night, we overheard this statement:

Failing Scenester dude: Yeah I know how the Sunday night vibe goes down, Secret Sundaze, Brick Lane (languishing scenester looks over the road to Herbal) and er, Herbal.

Us: Fail. Although two outta three ain’t bad.

As regular readers will know, we’re fans of the occasional blip and beep and fellow Shoreditch residents will know that if you can’t deal with a bit of minimal house, fidget, techno and the like then you might as well stay in and watch Britain’s Got Talent.

Last year you may remember it was electro of a Parisian flavour via Sebastian, Kavinsky (and most things coming out of Kitsune come to think of it) that had us bouncing around like bunnies but since they denied us a response on Myspace, they are officially dead to us.

Now, there seems to be lots of hype swelling around the WYS vibe, and along those lines, we tip our hat to Peter Pixzel , who is often in situ behind the 1s and 2s, churning out tasty strands of ocassionally 8-bit infused tracks for party robots and night time ghouls at the Wet Yourself! sessions. To see him in action, check this Youtube video or conversely, you could get your lazy asses to Field Day to see him in the flesh alongside the glitterati that is the painfully cool line-up for the East End festival.

Check out the track below and remember to take your speedos if you do rock up at Aquarium to catch his shit.

• Death of Shoreditch Part 1
• Death of Shoreditch Part 2
• Death of Shoreditch Part 3

Well, despite the sterling work of the people at the Bowl Court squat, vocal support from some lass called Tracey Emin and the ‘Save the Light’ campaign it appears that Hackney Council have given their support to the uber-scheme planned to “regenerate” the Bishopsgate Yard area of Shoreditch. Full details of what’s planned can be found here. Having read the document and taking into consideration the other developments that are planned (300 odd flats on Bethnal Green Road, Norton Folgate mixed-development scheme and Hearn Street/Plough Yard development), it’s clear that we live in unique times currently in Shoreditch. The whole aesthetic and vibe of the area will be completely replaced with something more akin to the nearer city fringe around Broadgate, Devonshire Square and the like.

Check out this image of the proposed sky line, quite scary me thinks! Can’t help but think going into a recession building loads of speculative office and residential units isn’t the brightest idea man has ever had. I wouldn’t be surprised if this ends up getting mothballed for a couple of years (say completion 2012) although will they try and throw it together in time for the Olympics? If so, expect a bodged effort.

See full image here at BD Online

Those of you that have dawdled down Brick Lane or donned your Hunter wellies (trendy wellies? the end is nigh.) to stomp through fields recently will have noticed that one style of sunglasses is in the ascendancy in a big way. But wait! Something sinister is awry with the Wayfarers!

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Anyone who’s been on said networking site for any serious amount of time will no doubt have trawled their brains and the facebook network for people that they have even the remotest slither of liking for. However, Facebook has added a new functionality that hangs over you like a spectre, that assumes that you’re not able to traverse said brain or network well enough and now helps you “find people you know on Facebook”. The false assumption that this function makes is that I didn’t know that these people were already on Facebook, in 99% of the cases suggested, I did and subsequently ignored their existence. Having made that hard decision to banish these people from my virtual life, should i be reminded of this everyday by this fucking ad? Criminals receive less remorse-provoking material than I do for our relative crimes, it’s insane!

Facebook, I have a message for you delivered straight out of Compton…

Some raw link dumping straight from my brain today…firstly this, which blew my mind. Some part of me hopes that there is someone out there looking for just that, as it would make the world a much, much funnier place. My favourite part?

When you reach the end of level one, make sure to trigger the fireworks. This is vital to the entire experience. I must hear the fireworks. When level 2 begins and Mario walks into the pipe, I will penetrate you. You may say things like, “MORE”, “HARDER”, “YES”, “FUCK ME”, but nothing else. I will continue having sex until the level ends. DO NOT take the secret level skip.

I bet that got you clicking out.

And then this little beauty; from Big Eye Deer, a webcomic I didn’t follow before, but this made me smile so hard it hurt. And LOL a little.

So I think it’s fair to say that the press has well and truly gone for the jugular on the whole recession thing. Every other page is RPI this and negative equity that.

I’m more sanguine about the whole scenario to be honest, I think we’ve been living large for the last 10 odd years and could do with a period of sleeve-rolling in order to put things in perspective (I’m a firm believer in the importance of Schumpter’s theory of Creative Destruction or as Sombart put it “again out of destruction a new spirit of creativity arises” - according to Wikipedia anyhow).

However, what I’m less than happy about is reading that the government are planning to spend £3 million of taxpayer’s money on a funeral for Margaret Thatcher. This has baffled me completely. The Labour government have shown time and time again that they have the foresight of Russell Grant when it comes to policies and particularly the economy, yet now when it comes to burying the plundering former leader of the opposition they are all over it like some avant garde dance troupe. What astounds me is that she’s not even dead yet! Can you imagine how the minutes of a meeting of the cabinet must go:

• Economy: action - deferred until Q4 (we haven’t got a scooby on this one!)
• Knife crime: action - take perpetrators to hospital to see victims (minute updated: actually don’t)
• Eco-Towns: action - employed Wayne Hemmingway (yeah the fashion designer) as a designer (what the fuck!) to add some credibility to the cause.
• Obesity: action - appointed a new Tzar of Chips & Fizzy Drinks, John Prescott.
• Death of Margaret Thatcher: action - eagerly anticipated, so much so let’s plan a £3m party/funeral!

The government has clearly run out of ideas and conviction, it’s a sad State of affairs, quite literally.

Have a look at this clip from the satirical genius of Spitting Image…spot the difference between then (the early 90s) and now.

Click moar for the lyrics

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Despite Boris’ inordinate level of buffoonery trying to cast a shadow over proceedings, Rise Festival did exactly what it says on the tin and got everyone up to party from 12pm in the unexplored fauna of Finsbury Park this Sunday just gone.

The new mayor once again showed that he is unable to leave anything unadulterated from his bodging by coming out to try and tone down the message of the festival from ‘united against racism’ to a more general theme of celebrating diversity.

As the sun beat down, a familar face strolled on to the stage to close the issue off. Terry Hall of the Specials proclaimed “I know there’s been some confusion this year about the message of this festival and all I want to say is fuck the BNP!”.

Yep fuck the BNP (who incidentally told their supporters to mark Boris as their second preference in the London Election). Check out the rest of the review below, we got up to some pretty awesome antics!

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