1.2.2 January 1998. Auckland Day.

Fuck, fuckin, jiss holidays, sometimes too long, ay. Like fuck – no one’s gonna say it, actchilly say they want school or shit, cuoz school fukn sux’n shit, but fuck, holidays is jiss like y’know . . . everyday, hook up wivda boys, but fukn – aint got nowhere to go’n ain’t got shit to do – so iss jiss like . . . - Wanna go get some piss? - Wanna go get us a car?- Wanna put five bucks in for a foilie for us? - Fucken, who knows where t’even fahkin score us a foilie from, you dick?! -Then let’s go do some crime then, fuck!  Jiss . . . yeah, fuckn sick of seeing the same fucks everyday, pretty much. See in school, there’s plenty of farlahs that y’don’t always hang out wiv y’know’n – O’course! You doan haft’look f’bitches! They fukn – they oreddy there! KnowhatI’msayn? An’fukn – they know! – They know my fuhckn stael! They know who the fuck we are, they know what the fukn time is – y’know . . . – they be all like . . . like – “ohr – Who dat?” bout us, an’en some liddle junior dick who wanna be me’s gunna go right ahead’n tell’m – cuts down my work rate, sayn? See in school ALL the young ladies know our shit – cuoz weeda fuckin baddest’n ain’t no one fucking wi’dat shit, word? . . . I mean that’s what it’s about, ain’it? Fuck, I could have any junior I wanted, pretty much bro, f’rael . . . Bronx, was orready wiv Jess but. Still reckon she was problee the hottest junior last year. Fuck, that’s what we’d all reckoned, then Any-G – the cunt – jiss starts reckoning her ass was “out of proportion” or some shit, and she wasn’t even as nice as fukn Kelly, or Rachel – who we’d both fucked . . . but yeah there were definately some others he wanted to get into this year, y’know, while he had the chance. Fuckn, Jess’s mate Marie, was pretty nice, ay’n Helen, mmmm, she’s like, classy, y’know. Even Sarah isn’t 2bad’n there could be new senior girls as well! Fuck yeah. See’n in school’n shit, you got the week t’build up t’that shit  - like, when it’s school right, you got the week, fukn talking the talk, mixin’n settin that shit up for on Friday’n Saturday’n shit when everyone’s definitely gonna be drinking, or a party’n everyone knows, or wohdever. Fuck yeah, cruise after lunch on Friday, start drinking, hook-up with everyone, hook-up with the boys t’score a foilie – and save a joint for school on Monday – like, shit’s co-ordinated, knowhatI’msayn? Everyone knows what’s going on, ay. Thas right . . .  Any’d finally shut up f’once’n they crossed the harbour bridge, gazing outta th’car in silence as the angles shifted and standing powerless, the buildings sailed past one another. It was a weirded out buzz. Town was like a dead body ay, no electricity, no power, no heart, no soul ay – jiss fucked up. All y’could hear were these fucked up generators everywhere going – Brrrrrrrroh’n whenever the power went again you’d hear everyone in the shops’n all around you go, like, “Ohhr!” Like – blues, shitty one, whatta shitty one that we live in such a eat-arse country, forgot tp pay the power, like where I used to stay. At night everything was shut mainly’n’t was silent-as, dark’n dead but for the noises, with heaps a’pigs cruising round, patrolling only the wasted youth’n the burnt cunts left. It was a weird buzz, th’whole of town jiss like a whole big back alley, kinda like – system failure I reckon, shut down, goodnight kiwi. Cuoz when there’s nothing there, when what used to be there is gone . . . then fukn dark ways fill the darkness ay . . . pretty outovit ay, buzzy shit . . . Like, fuck, we built us this bad-ass fukn skytower’n now don’t even got the shit t’fuckn make it go’n shit. Jiss sticks up out sittin on it’s own and makes everyone go -  fuck! Like when y’jiss got a wicked new vest or cap or some shit’n y’realise how shitty it makes the rest of your gears look . . . but it’s always there . . . y’know . . . whenever y’cruising’n shit . . .In the weirdness the tape was jiss going - “Is he fockin dead?” What the fock yoo mean “izzy fockn dead?”, gardd?    - fock you think?The nigger layin’ there with his fockn . . . all types of fokn blahrd cummin outtis fockin . . .- “izzy – izzy – izzy dead?”- yoh wuhssup gard. iss the gard, gard. wurdisbarn, yoh, wassup, i’m ready to fokn lay . . – i’m ready to get busy, yo, wuhssup . . .wassup, yoh . . .-Are we out or what?Iss the gard, gard. Fock that . . .Are we out . . . ?    -  a problem, man? . . . -Who took the tape . . . ? Ohr fuckn again’n again, fuckn played out orreddy! fuckin sick of it! Jiss reminds me  of all them shitty parties we been to, puke’n cigarette butts on the concrete floor, tagging on the walls, faces in the dark, smashing over some smart cunts, spewing up, fucking some fat bitch in the bush out th’backyard, pigs show up, bottles start flying, cunts is getting dragged off jiss like – yoh jiss fuck that buzz – “Thuggie bro – gotta cue that shit, bro,” I went, reaching out.“FUARKN’ WOTTAFUCKSARP!” Screeched Any. “We love that shit, dog! – It’sa fuckn Sevent Chamber, bro! – Let it fuckn be, sarn!” Ohr fukn, shit’s played out orredy! Fuckn dicks! How we gunna fukn walk int’school tomorrow like we the ones with fukn clout, we the ma’fuckers holdin’t down’n shit when we listenin t’played out old shit’n ain’t even got a fuckin’ hook-up? Or, fukn – fukn . . . shit?  

1.2.1 January 1998. Auckland Day.

1.2  

They cruised back toward town along the motorway.“Yohyohyohyoh, ma’fuckers Shut UP! . . . fukn shut up, jist fucken . . . fukn CHILL, I said! – chill you fukn dicks f’once!” In the back Any-G awaited silence, Santa’n Dex each side, a warm beer from last night in one hand’n the last ciggie in the other like he’s this fukn ball’n sceptre ma’fucker or some shit. Leaning forward again, he stabbed the air with the cig like  – “Iss like . . addis point, all I’m gonna say, wanna let y’all know . . . – cuoz I fukn love you fucks’n’at shit – that – righnnow, we inna fuckn . . . fukn,  Sevent Form – a’ight? Fuckn, from now on . . . we. Fukn. AREda 7t-form, a’ight? – We-we we inna fukn sevent. Chamber. NOW Saarn! YooknowutI’msayn? Know. What. I’m. sayin to y’all fukn, bitch-ass niggers?” Wohdever . . . dick. “Thaz righ’,” he answered himself, “so fahrken, reppassent – yoh, we Wessin Springs – a’ight? Co-Offender Kru . . . big fukn COK$ up innis ma’fucker, a’ight?! – Nighnie fuckn ayh’ . . .  – We roowlah fukn schoow – word.” Any leaned back.“So fahken, turn that shit up, baybee. You know how we doo.” 2Bronx was jiss there riding shoddie’n shit, jiss reckoning like, fuckn, awlat anna ma’fucker don’t know where t’even fuckn score us a foilie from! Fuckn dick, ay? Boys is like, drivin roun inna stolen vehicle out t’this open house fuckn over Beachaven or some shit, where Any says he got skunkies, like, a few months ago . . . – Then can’t find the street, then reckons he ain’t going in – . . . cuos like, from getting busted buying weed off of a fuckn D jiss aftah the place’d got turned over! An’jiss, I’m like fukn . . . – whatta fukn shitty one! Well I weren’t fukn going in! Jiss didn’t even say shit ay! Now, later on’n as usual, ma’fucker’s jiss still going on’n’fukin’on, tryna make us forget the shitty buzz jiss talking boolshit.“- Yoh, iss like, from tomorrow I said, all them fuckn liddle . . . fuckn, . . . liddle juniors bettah watch their fukn step, word – . . . bettah recognise. Recognise my fucken stael, sayn?” Catching Bronx’s bored, almost contemptuous expression in the sideview, about then Any reckoned he was problee, y’know – it’s like, jiss boys’n shit, aftawl. He leaned forward again as the cigarette ashed’n burnt away.  “- So when I see like – see a young junior, I be . . . I be like – I be like . . . - sssst . . .  - sssst . . . – Ow tick! wherez my shooz, eeh-ow yoo liddle farkin tick – they might look like they fit my bruthah, ay -” Snigger. “- Ohr nah, jis-chokes, boh, jis-chokes . . . ohr . . . – you’s’s doe-kno whereda score us a foilie from there-ow-bohe?“Hoahwwre, fuck – everyone cracked up but for Bronx. Fuckissnot funny. “Kedding Smart-ow Kuhnt?” Any went, poking his head in front – dragging out the comedy act, but still challenging’n shit, like how I should stop being a sad cunt. Bronx jiss cut back at him, real, like – “Fuck, bro, you gonna share that fukn ciggie for once or do I’ve t’take you t’the fuckn . . . fukn, Treaty of Waitangi-ow you fuckn white bitch?” Fuck, you ain’t black, dick. “Where’r we going?” Went Thuggie to us, cruising. It was him who got us the ride, last night. Jess’s parents were away’n shit so we got on the piss over there. But Any the fuck, calls up half the fukn school’n shit started getting 2loose so we jiss fucked off to get int’some crime. Any’d got these Heinies off of those 5^th form dicks that Dex knows, so we were all good, jiss cruising roun getting more pissed off the beers’n shit. Put up some hits, broke int’some cars – thats when Thuggie got us the Honda, got us a ride. We were gonna cruise it into town, see if we could score a foil, but Any’n Thuggie were keen to smash over these fukn faggoty bogan dicks we saw’n chased after them tryna rob their shit’n that, but I jiss went fuck that’n gapped it back to Jess’s. They were jiss little fukn dicks ay, didn’t have no shit. Jiss stoopid shit, being dicks, horsed’n shit, pretty much. Probly jiss cuoz of y’know, holidays, bored . . . dumb cunts. Rule the school – like, wohdever. Fuckn cheesy shit don’t y’reckon? Kinda a joke, like The Fonz or some shit ay, y’know? . . . but kinda real as well, I reckon, cuoz of, yeah, y’know – jiss now that Junior’n most of his boys are gonna be gone, who’s gonna fuck around, I mean seriously? No cunt! So then like, if it’s real, then fukn, repprasent! Ma’fucker’s is notorious, dog! We fukn kings’a th’Springs now! Thas right bwoy, fukn . . .  bellee’dat . . . Boys were all jiss buzzing, ay like, fuck it, y’know. The sun is out’n awlat shit’n we right here inna biggest, most fukn . . . onto it city in New Zealin, an’as of tomorrow, the loosest fuckin school inna zone is bought to you courtesy of yours truly, an’eese ma’fuckers righ’here – known Co-Offender Kru, runnin’ shit in nighnie-ayh, sayn? Wordup. But jiss fuckin Any the cunt, talks shit ay, going on’n on like a fuckn dick rider, jiss makes it seem . . . fukn, jiss more like . . . bullshit, ay, I reckon. Fuck dick, this ain’t Top Gun. You ain’t the Maverick, you ain’t Bruce Springsteen – you ain’t the fukn Boss, dick, you fukn, you fukn  . . . Vanilla Ice, chump! Cept he’d know where t’hook us up a fuckn sesh for once! I mean fuck, jiss lissning to that dick all day was jiss starting to piss’m off. Fuckn, pretty much always pissed him off, pretty much . . . but now, aftah annuva fukn holidays bro, twenty-four/seven – fuckn, jiss sick of shit by now, honnisly! No one gives a fuck but, about y’know – could be snapped out again’n ain’t dark yet so we can’t siphon us some more petrol’n pretty much all a fahkin waste of time! Ain’t scored no fahkin weed’n now ain’t got no fuckn ciggies left eever! Shitty one, I reckon! Shit jiss goes on’n fuckn on, shoulda fukn jiss stayed behind with the bitches, pretty much. . . . – yeah wohdever.

1.1 January 1998. Auckland Day.

1.0 – January. Auckland Day. 1.1

 Hey – fuck! where’ve you been?! How’s things with you? How’s your New Year’s? Fuck yeah, town always sucks, we jiss wanted t’get away from that buzz ay, fuckin – jiss missioned it at the last minute down to the Gathering ay, like, fuck bro – it was jiss fuckn like, such a fahkin. Like . . . jiss such a wicked mission, ay . . . hooked up with fuckn Ants’n Tyrone’n that, fuckn heapsa people from up here . . . Simon, Pat – an’Benny! . . . fuck, y’gotta hear his story about the bike! Fuckn jiss too loose ay bro . . . But yeah, nah, fuck you should’ve been in the fuckn Dub tent though, honnisly, it jiss went off. Spliffs were jiss totally being handed roun, with th’fat bass’n shit, totally, fuckn choice buzz, ay . . . – But mostly pretty chilled but, most’a the time for us ay, like, mellow’n shit, like, chilling out’n shit, y’know? Fuck, on the last day but – man, the place was jist fukn on the meanest come down ay – It was jiss like, everyone, jiss like fuckn, burnt as fuck ay. Totally jiss like, fuckn, cut a track bro, outta there, cuz  . . .  So what’s been happening in town? Insane this fukn power cut shit, ay? No fucken, fukn, electricity in town man – I mean how fucked up is that? Shitty ay, fucken third world, I reckon, ay . . . Fuckn like ghettoisation processes, ay, fuckin, globalisation’n shit, I reckon . . . yeah – fuckn, since I got back fuckn, fully tryna look for some smoke ay! It’s fuckn dry-as, ay? You don’t have any hook-ups at the moment d’you? Seen them Co-offender boys round? Fuckn had shit all last time I saw’m ay – as usual, fuckn bullshit cunts, ay’n fuck, Any’s always like, to me like – “Fuck bro, Co-Offenderz is like fukn blazing up constantly, bro, we wake up to three fully. Packed. Bucket bongs every. Farken. Morning. Bro.” Fuckin such a dick, ay man. So what’ve you been up to anyway? Any parties? . . . fukn – crazy shit! See Any saying shit t’fukn all Junior’n his boys on th’last day of school? Mad! I reckoned some fukn heavy shit was gonna go down ay – fukn, Any’n Thuggie’n that getting all liqoured-as’n shit before prizegiving’n fukn – Hart’s like – Hart doesn’t even give a fuck . . . like, what’s he gonna do on the last day? Y’know Hart’s gonna be deputy again this year? Fuckn, sweet ay, so much more cruisier than fuckin Givens, ay bro – I reckon. Y’know my dad used to be on like a protest or some shit with him, like hard out against the pigs’n all these mad rugby-head cunts who’re tryna smash them over? Outovit, ay? But yeah – them Co-offender boys -  Act all like they don’t give a fuck’n shit, but Any-G’n 2Bronx – pussies I reckon, when it comes down to it. I mean when was the last time you saw them come hard? Fuck  . . . it’s jiss I mean fuck – Any’s gonna haft’get a smack one day bro, it’s fukn, it’s jiss . . . y’know, he’s jist a fukn Ponsonby boy bro, but the dude fully thinks he’s black’n he’s bad! . . . should fuckn look inna fuckn mirror f’once I reckon . . . But y’know Sarah? Do you remember that guy who used to be in Seventh Form, um, Ollie, I think . . . little dude, friends with Sarah’s sister, in her year? He’s dealing now, bro, Sarah gets the mean deals off him bro, primo fiddies’n shit, but she reckons he’ll only go through her  - but bro! My cousins getting me the mean ounces from up Colville when the season comes. I’ll hook you up bro, I’ll blow you out so fuckn wickedly . . . You’ll just be sitting there, or like  – nah, we’ll cruise’t at lunch time t’the spot by the lake – goin like fukn – “eeauurgghh!” like that, jiss fuckin, stoned as fuck pretty much, ay . . . Probly fukn fall over the rail into the lake or some shit bro, like totally, I’m gonna get you so that wastedly outovit, bro . . . So where’r you going now? Sweet as, cool-cool.  Ohr fuck bro  . . . you don’t have a ciggie do you? Wanna go halves?- Yeah so . . . fukn, anyway . . . What was I saying?

 

 

Evil Robot Author Bio + Soundtrack tracklisting

BIOGRAPHY Matthew Oliver Turner-Horide has lived in Grey Lynn most his life, where he also produces and plays out funky Drum’n Bass under the name Romantech with the Data:Bass Network of which he is a co-founder.  His other interests include falling in love with women, collecting and mixing vinyl records, and isolating the positive effects of transcendental drug use. He is a lapsed socialist, eats fish occasionally, and loves Vegemite table spread, Whittaker’s chocolate and late 80’s/early 90’s British alternative rock, known as “Indie”. He has been described as emotionally immature, evasive, fickle, neurotically fatigued, worrying, easily annoyed, generally dissatisfied, unsteady, demanding, indolent, obstructive, shy, withdrawing, negative, mistrusting, self-involved, insecure, anxious, depressed, brooding, and lacking in frustration tolerance.  EVIL ROBOT THE CD: A 90’s buzz:Grunge, Hip-Hop, Drum’n Bass, House & more Featuring: Nirvana, Wu-Tang Clan, Massive Attack, Goldie, Daft Punk, Radiohead, Outkast, Marilyn Manson and more . . .  1991 – Nirvana “Smells Like Teen Spirit” 1993 – Wu-Tang Clan “The Seventh Chamber”* 1993 – Massive Attack feat. Tricky “Karma Coma”*1993 – Tool “Sober”1994 – Goldie presents Metalheadz “Inner City Life”*1996 – Daft punk “Around the world”*1997 – DLT feat. Che Fu “Chains”1997 – Doc Scott “Shadowboxing” (remix)*1997 – Sommerset “Sommerset”1997 – Jay-Z feat Mary J. Blige “The Hustle” (D’n B remix)*  1997 – Radiohead “No Surprises”1998 – Outkast “Spottieottieliedopalicious”*1998 – Armand Van Helden “You don’t know me”1998 – Marilyn Manson “I don’t like the drugs(but the drugs like me)”*1998 – Asian Dub Foundation ft. Navigator “Culture Move” 1998 – Gangstarr “Moment of truth”*1999 – Art of Trance “Madagascar”*

1999 – Concord Dawn “Styx”*

Evil Robot Blurb

*

This is the 90’s, and 3 young men, seemingly different, form a corner of the social structure of the local High school.Ollie’s 20, finding it’s not easy being a socialist in a capitalist system. Café’s, clothes, a decent ride and the latest records can be a bit of stretch when your paying through the nose for the right to a college education. They say problems are also opportunities. And in this day’n age, y’gotta take risks get ahead.Kings of the Springs, sarn Rule the school, thas righ, 98’. Bellee’dat! Gonna be 2Bronx’s year, last year of school, him’n the boys Waiting for this for ages. But Any-G, bro – thinks he’s black, don’t care how long we been boys, if he’s gonna be talking shit all the time, making trouble for the rest of us, making us look like we’re all shit, then fuck . . . Pascoe is turning fifteen this year. But he’s had a few problems at school. Nothing serious, jiss y’know a few problems with the other kids, but that’s okay, cuos now he’s starting at Springs tomorrow, like a fresh start.  Still kinda nervous though . . .This is the 90’s: Hip-Hop, House, Drum’n Bass, Grunge’n Metal; Pissed, stoned, wasted, twisted’n fucked up; Scenes, clicks, clubs, cafés, flats, parties, parks and streets. Either you’re cool or you’re not, pretty much. Either you know or you don’t. So who’s the baddest?This is the 90’s. This is Evil Robot.

Evil Robot Contents

“Now it is with men as with the tree . . .The more it wants to rise into the heights and the light, the more determinedly do it’s roots strive earthwards , downwards, into the darkness, into the depths – into evil.”– Neitzsche – Thus spoke Zarathustra * “I used to be a little boy . . .”- Smashing Pumpkins 93’

 

“Here we are now entertain us . . .”

– Nirvana 91’

  “Cash Rules Everything Around Me . . .” – Wu-Tang Clan 93’ “Inner city life, inner city pressure . . .” – Goldie 95’ “You don’t even know me . . . “ – Armand van Helden 98’ “I don’t like the drugs, but the drugs like me . . . “ – Marilyn Manson 98’ 

 

 

1998 1.0      - January. Auckland Day. 2.0      - January. Auckland Day. Evening. 3.0      - March. 4.0      - April. 5.0      - April. Anzac Weekend. 6.0      - April. Anzac Day. 7.0      - July. 8.0      - September. 9.0    – December.     

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