Steven 'Seething' Wells: I didn't know you but bye, then

It's already too hot to write. Already I want some cloudy bladder to open up and drench Leicester stinking Square with me in it. So just a passing thought on yet another death - that of the music/cultural/old NME writer Steven "Seething" Wells (Swells) who, like MJ and Farrah, was finally let down by almighty medical science. Did I know Swells? No. Would I have liked him in person? Probably not. I am not good with fury in the flesh. Or atheists. Why am I writing about him? Because people I admire admired him and I see he knew how to use the word cunt comically and painfully. Also, I cannot think of better company for MJ and Farrah as they drift from sleep to awakening in an afterlife I am not sure about. Read Swells' last piece for the Philadelphia Weekly - facing death he writes: "I speak as someone whose greatest craving at this exact moment is not world peace and universal democracy or a rational and global redistribution of wealth, but a can of ice cold ginger ale." I'd second that in Leicester stinking Square.