Splashing across the stark leathery canvas this week is the blood of hashtag-jabs, a stroke, and a porno. A glorious mashup of generalizing, saucy favouritism and cracks we are prompted to carve. We are now made to believe that the internet is actually our future of 'flying cars' that we've all been duped to wait for. Seriously and 'Doc' didn't see that coming? Or the advent of Marty getting Parkinson's? What is this sorcery!

The reaction around the web this week to all the follyduddies has made me crush on it, even deeper. For quite some time it was as if a giant fist had been shoved up the arse of many critics and media - only to work their mouths like puppets. I watched real time Twugs (twitter-thugs) as though there was an ancient feud between their 'two families'. Kanye is the fist, the big giant VAHSACHEE clad fist of your former 'master'. And boyo, did it work. Like the fist of God, He is inside, us all.


The TruManye Show

Hay-soos himself smacked out preaching's from his well-exorcised lips during a rare interview with BBC's Zane Lowe. To think that the espresso shot I have been having every morning was actually made from the liquefied bits of Kanye's insides? It was all out-wittingly liberating. His quest, may be a mess which made me hella' stressed, but the hour long West's-side story was unequivocally not boring. The man is not, 'weak tea'. His beans are brewed to shoot you out of bed and into a world of possibility and products.

We blinked and already a war roared between Jimmy Kimmel and YEEZUS over a spoof (notably not one of his funniest) that Jimmy did during his show. The gist? Capital letters were clapped about and someone said something about unfollowing someone. On a scale from 1- Sherlock Holmes, I dusted some evidence with my blusher-brush and found that in the interview he referred to himself as the Glitch of society, the Venellopie of Wreck-it-Ralph. Why has no one picked up that this character was actually the voice of Jimmy Kimmel's ex, Sarah Silverman? Preordained? I think the real fight is within Kanye's heart; he is cross that he hasn't been featured as the voice in a big animated motion picture yet. I know, I know, I'd hire me too.


The Totem Pole

The globule of Drake's tears left a crusty residue, I GET IT. But for any non-hip-hopper the past few weeks have really actually just been three people stacked, one on top of the other - wearing a really long jacket. People have been laying their devotions at the totem poll of Gucci, Drake and Kanye. Who the head? Who the heart? Who be the vagina? Like a Turducken over Christmas (the monster Frankenstein morsel of Turkey, Duck and Chicken) the world has been feasting on Count 'Dra-guc-ye' with devouring hopes of reaching the bone, that everyone is trying so desperately to pick with each other. What about the kids, I say, think of the children! The only thing I will be laying at this altar, is Kanye's baby. Kidding, she looks really really sweet.


Cracking the Cults

This week broke the HAIMen of servitude didn't it! Like a creep behind a tree, I watched as people rolled their words like an unsatisfied Aunt, rolling her eyes. I heard whispers that HAIM are 'boring', some mutters about 'What even is a CHVRCH' and a slap at Kings of Leon, just really only being good at being Kings Of Leon. I witnessed a 'so 1975 are a real, serious, thing?' and people choosing to cover real news in Kenya, over Mumford and Sons hanging up their 'tweed waistcoats' to give themselves (and us) a timeous break. CLAAANG CRACK SPLAT!


Hearing Aid(s)

Cover your eyes dear cowboys, I suffered severe foot-in-mouth dystopia after I watched the Swedish Icona Pop duo on Letterman and their seductive sways were, dare I sprout - enjoyable!

Phantogram's new 'Celebrating Nothing' track is also, riddled with hooks and gargantuan ear-replay and mark my words, Chromeo are going to put out the exact album that we all originally wanted Daft Punk to release.

We were also given an unmastered studio cut from SBTRKT, 'IMO' and a constant replay of Grumbling Furs brilliant 'The Ballad of Roy Batty'.

I'm just actually really happy that Albert Hammond Jr hasn't actually had a stroke yet. That would just be too real. He was never addicted, just consistent. So, a 'cleaned-up' Albert has returned with his new EP AHJ. 'Rude Customer', the first single is true to form, rife with the blood of his former band.


The Facepalm of Fire

How are Arcade Fire so ahead of their game? Their album artwork is a direct world-wide reaction for current affairs. They released their tracklist for the upcoming album and it thankfully showcases the (songs in brackets) thing I hold so dearly close to their winning-formula and the shockingly polite curveball of a song called 'Porno'. That, my dears, is a bobble-head of excitement.

There's always a friend who will lean over in the middle of a speed chase saying that it would never happen, but we got fisted this week kids - so anything is possible. Breaking Bad has been covered to meth too so shining the oil lamp on Boardwalk Empire's renewal of their fifth season with HBO just means I can now talk in 20s slang again without someone punching me in the neck.

Yours, ripe in season.

You can find Lior on Twitter: @LiorPhillips