This part of the site is now almost fully developed, and I have mostly stopped updating it. This is mostly because I am sick to the back teeth with Joey Christing Deacon; his face is more familiar than some of my best friends. This is perhaps ungrateful, as the only reason most people ever visited this site was to enjoy the suffering of our grunty pal.

The two new sections, "pictures" and "the book", follow the discovery in late 1998 of Joey Deacon's book, Tongue Tied. This is the book that he dictated, one letter at a time, to his friends. I felt obliged to read this book, and I have to confess that I was a little moved. Although Joey's language is ineloquent and devoid of metaphor, it is uncomfortably stark. So, I was  faced with this moral dilemma; how, in all conscience, could I keep this page up? People, to this very day, suffer in exactly the same fashion as the spastics of the 70s; even if a new "understanding" makes us call them by a different name.

My answer came - indirectly, of course - from Chris Morris, the fella behind most of the genuine "outrage" on British TV and Radio;

Because it's funny. It is. It's FUNNY. It shouldn't be, but it is.

Not the simple fact that a man called Joey Deacon had a disease called Cerebral Palsy, that's not funny. What is funny is the situation we have now, that over fifteen years later, people still call each other Joey, and they don't know why. What is funny is that a heartfelt plea for understanding led to a playground canonisation and folklore. And what is funny, most of all, is that people who DON'T find this whole thing amusing are invariably cunts who like The Thin Blue Line, and The Brittas Empire. Brainless cunts who blink emptily at anything they don't understand, and dismiss it as "stupid", or even worse, "clever". Fuck 'em; it's funny. Laugh all you want. Nobody cares.