Rustyboots.net

By Russell Brand

Among the many triumphs of the Occupy Wall Street movement (a campaign so alive with zeitgeist that I feel here obligated to reference its proper title – #OccupyWallStreet) is the remarkable sense of occasion that accompanies the phenomenon. Since it began a month ago I’ve been subliminally transfixed. Then, like a baffled alien abductee, I unwittingly found myself first transplanted from Los Angeles to Manhattan then suddenly somnambu-jogging through Tribeca to Zuccotti Park, lured by a peculiar certainty that I simply had to be there.

Leaving my apartment with an objective no grander than to go for a run I somehow landed amidst Zuccotti’s tarpaulin sprawl in unforgivable leggings and a headband that would have had Alice reaching for a shard of cracked looking-glass.

There can be few cultures that would unthinkingly welcome into their fold a man dressed as I was in the macabre attire of a spandex scarecrow but the occupants of this pop up civilization offered me first food, then shelter and then, incredibly, hope that we can change the world.

Read the rest at Russell’s official website here.

The following was printed on Russell’s website. Some have had trouble getting the page to load, so I thought I’d share it here too.

For Amy

By Russell Brand

When you love someone who suffers from the disease of addiction you await the phone call. There will be a phone call. The sincere hope is that the call will be from the addict themselves, telling you they’ve had enough, that they’re ready to stop, ready to try something new. Of course though, you fear the other call, the sad nocturnal chime from a friend or relative telling you it’s too late, she’s gone.

Frustratingly it’s not a call you can ever make it must be received. It is impossible to intervene.

I’ve known Amy Winehouse for years. When I first met her around Camden she was just some twit in a pink satin jacket shuffling round bars with mutual friends, most of whom were in cool Indie bands or peripheral Camden figures Withnail-ing their way through life on impotent charisma. Carl Barrat told me that “Winehouse” (which I usually called her and got a kick out of cos it’s kind of funny to call a girl by her surname) was a jazz singer, which struck me as a bizarrely anomalous in that crowd. To me with my limited musical knowledge this information placed Amy beyond an invisible boundary of relevance; “Jazz singer? She must be some kind of eccentric” I thought. I chatted to her anyway though, she was after all, a girl, and she was sweet and peculiar but most of all vulnerable.

I was myself at that time barely out of rehab and was thirstily seeking less complicated women so I barely reflected on the now glaringly obvious fact that Winehouse and I shared an affliction, the disease of addiction. All addicts, regardless of the substance or their social status share a consistent and obvious symptom; they’re not quite present when you talk to them. They communicate to you through a barely discernible but un-ignorable veil. Whether a homeless smack head troubling you for 50p for a cup of tea or a coked-up, pinstriped exec foaming off about his “speedboat” there is a toxic aura that prevents connection. They have about them the air of elsewhere, that they’re looking through you to somewhere else they’d rather be. And of course they are. The priority of any addict is to anaesthetise the pain of living to ease the passage of the day with some purchased relief.

Read more »

From The New Statesman, December/January issue:

By Russell Brand

I’ve come late to the WikiLeaks debacle as I live in Los Angeles and work in the film industry, a combination that does not encourage an investigative perspective of our planet. There are blind, naked mole rats that have more awareness of current affairs.  But while surfing the internet for information on pet psychiatrists, hair gels and “me,” I happened upon the diplomatic crisis that is dramatically accelerating our dwindling faith in those who govern us.

When a cultural phenomenon reaches the point of saturation, I wonder if its authors ever query their choice of name.  I wonder if Smeg fridges would do things differently if given a second chance? Or if the Beatles, informed at their genesis that they were about to become the biggest band in history, might have paused to reconsider their “punny” title.  WikiLeaks is not a good name for a whistle-blowing website, the contents of which embarrass the powerful and expose clumsy and brutal military activity.  It sounds like a West End musical about a bladder condition. Or an unreliable, robot butler. I’m sure I could come up with a better name.

Dirty Petty Things

The information contained in the leaked embassy cables (toxi-tweets?) oscillates from the terrifying to the puerile.  In spite of our nagging suspicion that the war in Afghanistan is being shoddily conducted, it is disturbing to read internal reports of civilian murder and deliberate misrepresentation of facts.  It is also unnerving to learn of the creeping potency of China and the creaking shifts of the fragile axis of power.

Most unsettling of all, though, is the petty, snickering attitude of those exposed within.  Ambassadors, ministers and spies the world over employ the conceited, insular vernacular of a bunch of oily prefects.  Kim Jong-il is described as “flabby,” the former president of Haiti is “an indispensable chameleon character,” and Prince Andrew likes falconry.  Kim Jong-il is flabby? That’s a bit personal. I can see that for myself — I don’t need a dose of international intrigue to confirm that.  And, may I ask, what would an “indispensable chameleon” do? Reptilian First Aid? I’ve never been in a situation where a chameleon could not be sacrificed if necessary.  When the pressure’s on, the colour-changing lizards are the first to be dispensed with. They get a worse deal than the travellers. As for Prince Andrew’s interest in falcons:  unless he’s about to train a kestrel squad to swoop into Buckingham Palace and peck out the eyes of everyone between him and the throne, I’m not sure that it matters.  I’m not saying the WikiLeaks site isn’t a valuable resource, obviously it is; I’m just concerned that much of the world of espionage is so snide.

Read more »

Did you know that if you download the e-book of Booky Wook 2, you can get an “enhanced edition” that includes 15 videos, many of which have never been seen before?

Neither did I, until yesterday. I downloaded mine from iBooks, an e-book app for iPhone, but I assume it’s available for other apps and readers as well.

Here is the blurb from Harper Collins about the e-book:

This enhanced version of Booky Wook 2 takes one amazing book and adds fifteen exclusive videos to it, to produce the digital publishing event of 2010. The videos have been shot by Russell himself and offer a unique insight into his world. Each is included in-line within the text, adding to the narrative of the book.

I can’t extract the videos and post them (which would be illegal anyway!) but I did manage to get a screencap of one of the vids (above).  That one is Russell writing the book in Tuscany, and there are clips of him writing in Austria and Iowa as well. There are also clips of standup and viddycasts, etc.  Well worth paying for, even if you already bought the hardcover (as I did).

By Steve Bennett

Russell Brand’s a man who’s addicted to excess… whether it be heroin, women – or adjectives. When he waxes, he waxes lyrical, as you might expect given the gothic turns of phrase that characterise not only his stand-up, but his everyday speech.

And in the second volume of his often flowery memoirs, he’s got plenty to write about, even though they cover just a few short years. They were the years that propelled him from a humble (if that’s the right word in this context) presenter of a Big Brother spin-off show into the A-list, thanks to his dalliance with Kate Moss that thrust him onto the tabloid agenda, where he’s resided ever since.

Indeed, that co-dependency in notoriety between media and subject could have been his undoing, following certain ill-advised phone messages. But, not to spoil the ending, the book ends not with him cast back into obscurity which certain newspaper editors might have wanted, but with a blossoming movie career and with him meeting his bride-to-be. What a very modern fairytale ending…

Read the rest …

The Guardian has exclusive clips from Russell’s interview with Jonathan Ross at the Hackney Empire gig promoting Booky Wook 2.

Click here to view.

As seen on russellbrand.tv … here’s Russell explaining why you should buy Booky Wook 2.

(A few more)

Russ with Jeremy Paxman, courtesy of russellbrand.tv

These are all the Booky Wook 2 promotional TV/radio appearances I’m aware of at the moment – will add to the list as new information is available. If you have any additions or corrections, please let me know!

UK appearances:

• Thur, 30 Sep, Steve Wright Show on Radio 2
• Fri, 1 Oct, XFM Breakfast Show
• Fri, 1 Oct, Capital FM Breakfast show
• Fri, 1 Oct, Newsnight interview w/Jeremy Paxman
• Fri, 1 Oct, Paul O’Grady Live (ITV)
• Mon, 4 Oct, Heart Breakfast
• Tue, 5 Oct, Richard Bacon’s 5Live Show
• Tue, 5 Oct, Lorraine Kelly on ITV – teaser here for UK residents
• Mon, 11 Oct, Loose Women
• Thu, 21 Oct, This Morning

US appearances:

• Wed, 13 Oct, The View
• Mon, 18 Oct, Ellen DeGeneres

I will also try to put up video/audio links to all appearances after they air.  Stay tuned!

VMAs 2008. Tom, my darling assistant and modern-day gay butler, Dan Weiner, Nicola, Matt and Nik, just before we teased the triggers of a billion hillbillies.

Russellbrand.tv has a lovely treat for us – all the photos from Booky Wook 2 are online, with audio of Russell reading the captions and then making additional comments about the photo or the people in it. Click here to view them all.

It’s so nice to see & hear about all the people that really matter to Russell, in addition to the various celebs he’s encountered over the years. Thanks, rb.tv and Russell, for sharing this.