An extract from the diary of Lieutenant Colonel Mervin Willett Gonin DSO who was among the first British soldiers to liberate Bergen-Belsen in 1945.

Camp

I can give no adequate description of the Horror Camp in which my men and myself were to spend the next month of our lives. It was just a barren wilderness, as bare as a chicken run. Corpses lay everywhere, some in huge piles, sometimes they lay singly or in pairs where they had fallen. It took a little time to get used to seeing men women and childen collapse as you walked by them and to restrain oneself from going to their assistance. One had to get used early to the idea that the individual just did not count. One knew that five hundred a day were dying and that five hundred a day were going on dying for weeks before anything we could do would have the slightest effect. It was, however, not easy to watch a child choking to death from diptheria when you knew a tracheotomy and nursing would save it, one saw women drowning in their own vomit because they were too weak to turn over, and men eating worms as they clutched a half loaf of bread purely because they had to eat worms to live and now could scarcely tell the difference. Piles of corpses, naked and obscene, with a woman too weak to stand proping herself against them as she cooked the food we had given her over an open fire; men and women crouching down just anywhere in the open relieving themselves of the dysentary which was scouring their bowels, a woman standing stark naked washing herself with some issue soap in water from a tank in which the remains of a child floated. It was shortly after the British Red Cross arrived, though it may have no connection, that a very large quantity of lipstick arrived. This was not at all what we men wanted, we were screaming for hundreds and thousands of other things and I don't know who asked for lipstick. I wish so much that I could discover who did it, it was the action of genius, sheer unadulterated brilliance. I believe nothing did more for these internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets and no nightie but with scarlet red lips, you saw them wandering about with nothing but a blanket over their shoulders, but with scarlet red lips. I saw a woman dead on the post mortem table and clutched in her hand was a piece of lipstick. At last someone had done something to make them individuals again, they were someone, no longer merely the number tatooed on the arm. At last they could take an interest in their appearance. That lipstick started to give them back their humanity

Source: Imperial War museum

On Banksy's website: [link]

Open iTunes/iPod, Windows Media Player, or WinAmp to answer the following. Go to your library.
Answer, no matter how embarrassing it is.

How many songs: 1184

Sort by song title
First Song: True Love Waits by Version-3-point-1
Last Song: Moons and Horrorshows by The Zutons

Sort by time:
Shortest Song: 2 Second In Love With A Feeling - Pete Doherty - 0:11
Longest Song: Iowa by Slipknot

Sort by album:
First Album: The 77 Demos - The Libertines
Last Album: Youth and Young Manhood - Kings of Leon

Top Five Most Played Songs:
1) Don't Look Back Into The Sun - 67 times
2) Carl Barat - France - 49 times
3) Arbeit Macht Frei - The Libertines - 48 times
4) What A Waster - The Libertines - 46 times
5) Jack The Ripper - The White Stripes

First song that comes up on Shuffle: Dogs Die In Hot Cars - Godhopping

Search ....
"sex", 5
"death", 11
"love", 69
"you", Many, not sure how to count them without doing it by each one

If Ergo Cogito Sum is the only proof of any existence (your own) does that mean if you forget you done something it is no longer possible to prove it happened?

t h e . l u c k y . s e v e n . q u i z --

Seven things that scare you:
1. Getting scared.
2. Wierd obvious houses that you only just notice on a street you've been walking down for years
3. Being dragged off a bed when laying down by my feet (happened to me when I was kid, scared the shit out of me, really hurt too)
4. People from London who say they're gonna mug you, and then just ask for the time
5. Truely scary films (none spring to mind though)
6. Vivid sleep deprivation hallucenations
7. Losing my faith in love and music, as then, the end would not be long

Seven things you like the most:
1. Music
2. Chocolate
3. Dr.Pepper
4. Friends
5. The internet
6. London
7. Sing-a-longs

Seven important things in your room:
1. My books (especially my MAD magazines, charlie brown and garfield comics)
2. Bed
3. Clothes
4. Posters
5. Incense
6. Vinyls and CDs
7. CD player

Seven random facts about you:
1. I've spent atleast 5 minutes thinking of this fact.
2. Punk is probably my most favourite of all genres.
3. I want to write a full film.
4. I find it hard to stick with writing the same story (don't think I've ever finsihed a proper story or script)
5. I've become really shit at typing lately.
6. I want to visit all these places before I go on holiday abroad. Wales again, Manchester (and visit people), Cornwall again, Brighton and I think there's probably somewhere else.
7. The cat is my favourite animal.

Seven things you plan to do before you die:
1. Create a song that would equal songs like "Wonderwall"
2. Complete the Ask Frank checklist with Joe (bar skag)
3. See The Libertines.
4. Be able to do barre chords easily.
5. Play in a band people enjoy, sing along to and dance to.
6. Find out the void.
7. Actually create the song "I hope you die (of aids)"


Seven things that attract you to the opposite sex:
1. Eyes.
2. Good shoes and general nice clothes.
3. Some kind of intellectual
4. Philosophical and able to think about things differntly
5. A nice smile.
6. Music taste similar to mine.
7. Poetical radiance (not sure what that means meself)


Seven things you say the most:
1. Cunt
2. What a cunt
3. Fair enough
4. Indeed
5. Urghhhh
6. 'Mazin
7. What's the time?

Seven celeb crushes (in no particular order)(whether local or foreign):
1. KT Tunstall
2. Blondie
3. Karen-O
4. Meg White
5. Marilyn Monroe
6. Laura-Mary Carter
7. Poly Styrene (just for the fact she got up on a stage and sung like that)

Seven favorite drinks:
1. Dr.Pepper
2. Wine
3. Absinthe
4. Whiskey and Wine
5. The Everything Drink
6. Antying that comes through the funnel
7. Slightly flat lemonade

Well, I haven't written anything proper for awhile, so I shall tell you the story of Babyshambles now.

The day did start with an alley meeting with Jemma. From there, we went to town and bought a few items (batteries, coke,etc). We sat in the park for a bit, after realising it was only 9:20 am. The music started there as I turned my tape player on.

We ittied up to the station and got ourselves a train. Pretty uneventful train journey overall.

Arrivied at Victoria. Wandered around outside for a bit of air. Came in, bought a corkscrew (which I think I've now lost). Journeyed underground, got out tickeets and off we went to Brixton.

Arrivied at the academy at 12. Thus started our 7 hour wait. We sat upon the steps to see someone arrivied, dressed veyr alike to Peter Doherty himself. Her name was Kerry, and although scary at time, a pretty cool girl. Also arrivied was the guy from Brussels. Never caught his name, but he did see The Libertines in Brussels all that time ago.

Time passed as did words. During the time we managed to have a conversation with one of hte security guards who was a very cool guy. He told us about he guys who go to Marilyn Manson concerts in womens clothing and wank in the crowd. Nice. He also told us about the time when he was with Pete when Pete headbutted Johnny Borrel.

We also went around to the tourbus, talked to some reporters. Here we managed to get Patrick's autograph as he walked past the open door.

More time was spent just generally hanging around talking to people in the queue.

The next event was Jemma's shoe breaking thus having to fix it with ducktape. I then joined in and wrapped my right foot in ducktape (this led to, later on, about 15 people at the front of the queue with ducktape on their right foot).

Next was the strange appearance of some woman who just gave us two stalls tickets for nothing. We sold those later on for £50. I only took a fiver from it, which I gave to some rastafarian bum who sung with us.

Later on, while in the queue I see Adam walk past and just no one recognised him. So I waited for him to come back where and jumped over to him and asked for a sig, and I was thus followed by a load of others.

Another later on, while standing near the bus, we spot Pete casually strolling down the road. We got to him and he signed my book and I also managed to get a picture too.

Then we went back to the queue. Phil, Christian and Culyl turn up and we all start drinking again.

Eventually we get inside. I'm right at the front, and I need a really bad piss. Bad mistake to drink lots of wine. So I have to leave my spot so I end up spending loads of time trying to get back to the front. I do pretty well.

The support for the show was Pete doing "What a Waster" and "Time For Hereoes" while everyone was still coming in, a couple of others on guitar, then the Test Icicles and then the Littl'ans. The Littl'ans were superb and there was a great sing along to "Their Way".

The came the Shambles. A massive roar goes up from the crowd. They go through a few songs including "Monkey Casino" which was class.

At some point during this, I'm trying to get balance on the front barrier, and some cunt thinks I'm trying to steal his place, so he starts elbowing my wrist and tries to break it. He then manages to push me over and go down to the floor. My head gets stomped on and I get trampled. Someone helps me up and now I'm feeling really sick, so it takes me about half-an-hour to get myself out.

From the foyer I can hear the sound of Killamangiro each around. I continue to rest, tyr and get my head back together. People are starting to come out, but not many. That's when I decide to go back in and just as I enter I hear the beginning riff of "Fuck Forever" and this gives me the incentive to get back to the front.

As I run forward I'm joined by another guy. We started to push about and just pretty much speed-mosh into the crowd where we both trip, but luckily pretty far forwards. Up we get and much dancing ensues. Then next is the truely shambolic "Wolfman" with Wolfman himself singing hte vocals. Excellent stuff.

The end is kind of mashed up. In the end I'm walking back to Brixton station where I freeze to death and realise I've lost my book with my signatures in and along with £5, but ah well.

Find out it's gonna tkae us hours to get home due to 3 changes, but eventually we made it back. I make myself a a toasted cheese sandwich and decide bedways was rightways. And of I went.