The notorious planter of trees, Felix Dennis, is dead. Who? Do fuck off. Frankly he meant nothing much to moi. Oz trial. Lots of cock-cunting rock 'n' roll ("all needless" - Dennis) - says he spent $100m on drugs and tarts. Probably. I can believe that his big life ate up a lot of the planets resources; in later life he planted thousands of trees, so that's something. Unfortunately he was hirsute and this attribute always triggers my prejudices, as against the likes of Islamic terrorists aged 22 (to indicate pathetic conformity and allegiance to the faith of masculinity), male deities (authority and divine misandry), goats (foolishness), mammoths (extinct) and Lord David Blunkett of the Satyr (smugness with morning glory).
The two-faced hack creep and atheist Rob McGibbon interviewed him sometime ago and is worth glancing at:
I do like Dennis' poem Anti-Social Behaviour Orders - click here to hear it to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.