World Cup Magic

Inspired by Alan Shearer’s exposé on the renaissance of feeling currently being enjoyed in South Africa’s townships (due of course to World Cup mysticism), I decided to do my own weighty piece on how Africans in London are coping with football ecstasy.

Whilst sauntering around Shepherd Market in an alcohol drawn stupor I stumbled upon some old unpronounceable African woman from Africa ...with quite a story to tell. After fleeing some war torn nowhere land twelve years ago she arrived on these soggy shores with nothing to her name but her name. Since then she has worked hard to build up a respectable life for herself in the all welcoming town of London. Commuting in from some concrete council nightmare in an SE abyss, she works sixty hour weeks down in the bowels of the Park Lane Hilton collecting, processing and eventually disposing of large amounts of faecal matter.

I asked her what the world cup being in Africa meant to her but unfortunately she couldn’t speak a lick of English so I’ve just had to guess her answer. "I am so proud that South Africa is hosting the World Cup. Hurrah for Africa. OH AFRICA! LA LA LA sing AFRICA sing sing AFRICA! LA LA Ooooooooooooooooooh iiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhh AFRICA!"

About a week later I met some other African gadgy (or whathaveyou) living it up in a detainment centre near Heathrow. Perusing his confidential files I discovered he’d been convicted of having an illegal sexuality in his native wherever and was sentenced to Present Death. Naturally skipping the country the gadge is now caught in the Kafkaesque purgatory of the UK Asylum system. However his lack of legal rep and rudimentary English suggests his chances of staying in purgatory for much longer are slim to shit. Baring this in mind I was keen to discover his thoughts on South Africa hosting the World Cup. Unfortunately though a big butch charpening omi said I wasn’t allowed to see him so I’ve just had to take a stab. "Ooooooooooooooooooooooh AFRICA LA LA WOOH IIEEEARRRH ARRRR OOOOOOOOOOH WAAAAAAAAAAA OOOOOOOHHHH ARRRRRRR EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH AFRICA!"

I also rubbed shoulders with a fourteen year old girl from Africa I met in a brothel near Wood Green. She was trafficked here from some wilderscape or whatnot at the age of nine and has since lead a steady life of imprisonment and forced Prostitution. Unfortunately her Employer said she was unable to comment at this time, however I think it’s safe to say she would almost certainly exclaim "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH OOOOOOOOOOOOH AFRICA AFRICA AFRICA! LA LA LA. AFRICA OOOH OOOH YEAH!" Well, this may not be exactly how she’d put it but the sentiment can’t be too askew.

Meet George Smedge

Sally Wagoony meets a new author who is literally a literary criminal mastermind.

You’ve probably never heard of George Smedge but critics are raving about his debut novel Heroes and Heroin. “Unmitigated masterpiece” said The Telegraph, “a sea-change in the life of the novel” commented True Review and “a new dawn in intellectual thought.” proclaimed The London Review of Books. It is almost certain to claim this year’s Man Booker Prize, not to mention the first novel award at the Costa Book Awards and the newly created Sketchers Shoes for Literary Merit Award. Still not impressed? Well, this nine hundred page epic is amazingly enough written entirely in iambic pentameter with a Joycean stream of consciousness style. It really is the best thing since sliced Nabokov. Now you maybe wondering why you’ve never heard of the author. Well, Smedge is not your runofthemill Upper-Middle, Oxbridge educated, occasional Journalism dabbling, West London dwelling novelist. In fact the novel’s story of a young man’s battle with drug addiction in Glasgow’s rough Possilpark area is largely autobiographical and was written while Smedge was serving time for murder!

I caught up with this astonishing character at his recently purchased Miami penthouse to find out more about the man behind the masterpiece. “It’s been a wild ride.” He says while gazing out at the mariner view from his balcony. And he ain’t kiddin’. Two years ago today Smedge was still languishing in the clink and ten years before that he had never read a book in his life… Born in Possilpark, Glasgow in 1977 to a Heroin addicted Mother and unidentified father Smedge was in many respects a typical casualty of James Callaghan’s “chunky glasses approach”. At thirteen he himself became addicted to heroin and spent the rest of his adolescence thievin’ and dealin’ until things came to a head during a badly planned house burglary. “I was somewhat of a naughty boy” he smirks, but that is to put it somewhat mildly. While looting a house in one of Glasgow’s more desirable districts Smedge was interrupted by the untimely return of the owner and her seven year old daughter. Panicked, he decided to batter them both to death with a half full kettle. “I am not entirely proud of that.” He chuckles. “It was a crime and punishment moment. I was pretty shaken up for days.”

Smedge was naturally given life in prison but unlike many of his cohorts he did not spend his fifteen and a half years idly. Taking up an English Literature class run by the prison, the then barely literate junkie-murderer soon developed an insatiable appetite for all things high minded and began devouring the classics one by one. “I did some terrible things back in the day and I felt I needed to better myself in order to pay respect to the people whose lives I’d blighted.” He then took multiple language courses including Latin and ancient Greek to get closer to his newfound heroes. “I found solace in the works of the great philosophers: Plato right through to Baudrillard. But I especially liked the ideas of Nietzsche and Heidegger.” He also picked up German, French, basic Spanish and a smattering of Russian.

With two years of detention still to go he decided to write a novel and in his final months he sent some rough drafts out to publishers. “I knew it was good, I just didn’t know quite how good.” Hoping at best for an encouraging response or two, Smedge was bombarded with letters from every publishing house in the land not to mention wheelbarrows of money and deeds to large swaths of Scotland.

Now at the age of thirty-seven he has a glittering literary career ahead of him and is about to embark on a speaking tour of the US with a promotional slot on Oprah. “I feel like Oscar Wilde. I have nothing to declare but my incredible genius.” And Hollywood is also a knockin’. “I’ve been speaking with Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio about adapting Heroes into a movie” Paramount Pictures are rumoured to be offering $7 million for the rights. “Well, I’m not at liberty to talk about the financial side of things” he says smugly “but meeting Leo was marvellous fun. We went partying in Manhattan and then again in Malibu. And the women, the women, good lord!”

Smedge is also currently working on a modern retelling of Romeo and Juliet. “It’s about two people from rivalling London gangs who fall in love. I’m calling it Cracking the Post Code.” It seems the exosphere is the limit for this major talent. Heroes and Heroin is available now from Spineless Publishing.

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The early bird gets the teratoma

A recent Sciencesque-like test has produced ALARMING results which confirm scientists long held theory that waking up early begets Cancer.

For all us unemployed lowlife scum it’s a moot point that early rising is bad for your health. However even we were SHOCKED to find out the true extent of the DANGER. In a recent experiment at Penge University LEADING scientists have found DEVASTATING results that PROVE beyond a shadow of a doubt that “determinist waking” is carcinogenic to the MAX! “Determinist Waking” (involuntary early morning rousing to you laymen) has long been proven to induce stress, psychosis and high cholesterol but until now has only been linked to Cancer in theory. Dr Gavin Mangleford - who lead the research programme - conducted a “case-control study” on seven and a half seven and a half year old girls over a course of seven and half to twenty seven and half years and found that 78% of 2.5 of those who rose four times earlier than the average late riser were more than A THOUSAND TIMES likelier to presume that they would get breast cancer in later life. The survey also found that DW was the MAJOR cause of MANY other cancers including a number of skin cancers and osteosarcoma (a type of bone cancer if you must know). “The evidence is indisputable” Said Professor Mangleford. “Scientists have long suspected it but no one wanted to investigate because big pharm knows that no drug can help this.”




Luckily enough Mangleford D.D. himself has developed an alternative medicine that fully prevents this DEVASTATINGLY DAMMING disorder. Sold on his website in conjunction with super science mystic heroes BioCare, The Wake Up Pill is a must for all those who choose the materialist lifestyle of having a job. “Of course nothing beats waking up naturally” he says “but I realise that this simply isn’t possible in our fast pace, high pressure, wacaday world.” Made from HIGHLY POTENT magic crystals only found in stock reel footage of axed ITV 2 Shows The Wake Up Pill is simple, natural and votes Green. As his website claims the pill “reduces the onset of Cancer by 72% in 3/5 of one in ten people.” Ten out of eleven customers HAVE claimed to HAVE seen dramatic improvements in their perceived likelihood of NOT getting Cancer. And as well as this simple to use tablet, Col. Mangleford also sells a range of other helpful products such as the Post Morning Pill which should be taken if one forgets to take the original pill; The Jetset Pill for when one is travelling between time zones; the My First Pill, for children; and the Weaner which is specially designed for those wishing to withdraw from the pill due to a change in waking style.

“I just hope I can do some good” said Sir Mangleford with a tear in his eye. God bless that man! You could say he’s a pill-ar of the community… …or a pillock.

Many-Minded Dylan

New Bob Dylan Collection explores the many sides to this enigmatic enigma.



Sad Dylan



Including such hits as

Blood In My Eyes
Not Dark Yet
The Snow Was Outrageous
Half Empty # 104
Gotta Cold Comin’ On
Expensive Long Distance Telephone Blues
How Dare You
and The Stone In My Shoe Blues

Many-Minded Dylan

Happy Dylan



Including such hits as

Something There Is About You
Brownsville Girl
115th Dream
Odds and Ends
Paid not Played
That Tickled Me
Everyday's A Holiday With God
and I Swear I Didn’t Impregnate Your Daughter Mrs Henry

Many-Minded Dylan

Angry Dylan

Including such hits as

Clean Cut Kid

Idiot Wind

Positively 4^th Street

Hurricane

Slow Train

Who Killed Heath Ledger?

Luckily For You I Left My Gun Somewhere In Oklahoma

Drunk And Disgusted

Totally Livid

Just Plain Sick Of It

and Literally Throwing Up.

Get the Shoreditch look!

Our fashion correspondent Lionel Hope arses about in search of the latest trends

Shoreditch, Hoxton, Dalston! Calling all tribes! A new craze is sweeping through East London’s hipster elite and it’s called Prego-chic. I met up with Riotous Dave in the ubertrendy Hoxton Grill, Kitchen, Lounge, Bar and Hall to find out more. Dalston, Hoxton, Broadway Market! Dave or Rio as he is known to his consort, spends his entire waking life monitoring and influencing East London fashion trends. He is most famous for introducing the “lenseless” spectacles look. Today he is sporting a pair of Harem Pants; some high heel shoes; a motorcycle helmet with the visor down and a pair of inflatable arm bands with a Mickey Mouse pattern. However what is most important to me is that tucked under his Hawaiian shirt is a large sofa cushion. “The prego look is soooooooooooo in.” He exclaims, after opening his visor to sip some crantini. “People say it was MIA [Last year London born singer MIA performed her global hit Paper Planes at the American Grammy Awards while heavily pregnant] but really it’s about fucking with gender and politics, it’s mostly men that get it not chicks.” He announces before screaming “Fuck Thomas Beatie!”

Shoreditch, Spitalfields, Bethnal Green! Later that day I bumped into Cole (24, video artist) at the ubertrendy Dalston Superstore. He is wearing blue Kwikfit overalls with the famous logo modified to read ‘kwikfuck’, he also more importantly has a cushion tucked down his front. “It just like happened one day. I’d like seen other people doing it and when I was like getting ready to go out, I like stuck a pillow under my vest, it just like felt right. It happened organically.” But the rabbit hole goes much deeper than this as Rio explained to me. “Some people have gotten really into it and bought pregnant suits and that, you know empathy belly things off the internet, it looks fierce!” Brick Lane, London Fields, Haggerston? I met up with Jamie Insatiable (performance artist, poet, playwright, journalist and workshop facilitator) who has recently undergone extensive plastic surgery to give himself a baby sized bulge. “The scars haven’t really healed yet” he warns me as he lifts his shirt… And he isn’t kidding; the severely red marked protruding gut looks something like a cartoon potbelly stove. “That’s quite dedicated.” I remark. “Yeah,” he says, “well it won’t be forever. I used to have breasts.” Hackney Wick, Columbia Road, Etcetera. I spoke to Dr Newton Levi (writer, thinker, public speaker, philosopher, social commentator, intellectual and lecturer at Goldsmiths College) about the phenomenon. “Strict Neo-Postfreudian’s will tell you it is what’s known as womb envy.” He explained. “As society has steadily undermined patriarchy and phallogocentrism by among other things advancements in science and the changes late capitalism has brought to the jobs market, male insecurities have started to manifest themselves in temporary or permanent body modification…It’s a phenomenon that is likely to become more widespread and extreme in the future…Things are probably going to get increasingly scary and weird!”

I decide to try and get hold of one of these prego suits for myself but all I find on ebay is hundreds of Pregnant Nun costumes …so I get one of those instead. A few days later it arrives and I make my way down to trendy east end nightclub Malignancy. It feels strange at first and the taxi driver repeatedly rolls his eyes at me in the mirror. But once I’m safely in East London I find many other bright young thing shaking their prosthetic tummies to the beat. And many strangers approach me eager to learn of this exciting and fabulous new fashion trend. It feels fun and freeing and exciting and most of all it feels empowering!