‘I Don’t Know,’ ‘I Hate Spoo,’ Independence Day

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Good day

Tonight, from Iron Mountain, we have a sweet little melody, recorded at Paddy Steer’s studio, and written whilst I was alone in a cabin for a week, in Devon, just recently, enjoying solitude and the company of my own nonsense.
(It is terrifyingly easy, ladies and gentlemen, to spend time without humanity)

Also, whilst away, in-between swimming in the river and frolicking with the white deer, I wrote a little poetry, which has gone into a collection called ‘I Hate Spoo.’
The title refers to a quote from my hero, Skeletor, and the book is currently unavailable, especially to those who want a copy.
But there are copies.

At Independence Day, this weekend, those of you blessed enough to attend, are liable to be treated to a performance by the Hallelujah Whip. It’s three horns, it’s a drummer, it’s improvised music to reflect and recount spoken stories, and it’s for dancing. The Hallelujah Whip.

Independence Day will be God-stopping and unspeakable. I’m sorry, if you’re reading this, and you’re not coming, I’m sorry.

Good luck, everyone