Oh what a fucking year, eh? youtube, thames whales, suffolk stranglers, bird flue, ecconomic migrants, Iraq bombs, beastly Israeli's, Russian poisoners, gaming, quiz phone in's, sensationalist TV, the descent of Richard Madeley, Cosmic ordering, Noel Edmonds is alive, James Brown is dead, Castro is on the brink, Zidane, Hypocritical Man Utd fans, Man City and their chav manager, death of chavs(?), nah...
But we don't or shouldn't define our year and our lives by what the newspapers and media think is relevant. We are in a strange phase at the moment. We have the virtual power to control our lives. (It is only virtual...someone else is pulling the strings, whether it's the god of Second Life or The Sims, or Murdoch or Gates, it's anyone's guess.) Thus we blog, we 'tube' and google. Of course these are just trends which will get a bit boring, and kids will find something else, and the producers all along will wish they could have charged for these services. But the interest for celebrity gossip and the like will ebb away as we create our own self-obsessed alter egos online, or before the media. (Just as Aerial Leve) So it is in this spirit at this time of year that I host the winners of the Best Before 'Soft Target' Awards, that I came up with a couple of days ago.
THE BEST BEFORE 'SOFT TARGET' AWARDS
Among all the 'times' we are part of, much of it out-dated, let us hope that one tradition that will eventually ebb away are the dreaded Award ceremonies which are just as ubiquitous as the really naff urban myth that kids watch youtube boreathons for longer than they play computer games, watch TV, eat, masturbate and go to school. It's an impossible dream to wish that everyone will wake up from their collective mediorce consciousness and realise that these ceremonies that reward this mediorcrity and popularity as opposed to craft or ANYTHING must stop, but I am a dreamer. Instead I will continue this mockery as a punishment to you all for contributing to yet another mediorce year. So here we go...
LIFETIME UNDER ACHIEVEMENT AWARD FOR BEING AN UNINTENIONALLY UNFUNNY BORE WHO AS LONG AS HE LIVES WILL NEVER BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY- Boris Johnson
MEDIA SATURATED FUCKER- Russel Brand/Jamie Oliver
THE 'OUT OF HER DEPTH' AWARD- Charlotte Church
THE 'NOT REALLY OUTSPOKEN AND WITTY AWARD AND IN FACT SHE'S JUST A GOOD LITTLE MIDDLE CLASS GIRL WITH A FAMOUS DADDY'
- Lily Allen
THE 'BAILEY RAE AND DIDO COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT BETTER' BLAND ALBUM AWARD- Lily Allen
THE LESS POPULAR BUT COINCIDENTALLY LESS MIDDLE CLASS THAT LILY AWARD- Lady Sov
A CUNTY SMUG FACE TO FRONT A SHITTY DERIVAVTIVE BAND THAT MORRISSEY AND PAUL WELLER USED TO LIKE-Preston
The YOKO ONO GOOSEBERRY AWARD-Chantelle
THE YOUTUBE CELEBRATION OF THICKOS OF ALL CLASSES AND AGES AWARD WHO ARE IN FACT THE REAL LAB RATS OF THIS SOCIAL EXPERIMENT-Big Brother Voters
THE BEST ARSE OF THE YEAR- The Saturday girl who works at my off license. Her arse really does hug those Miss Sixty Jeans like her life depends on it. How do I have the heart to ask her to sit on my face?
2006's MOST MEDIORCE PROGRAMME THAT COULDN'T DECIDED IF IT WAS FOR KIDS, FOR A RADIO AUDIENCE OR QUEER AS FOLK?-Torchwood
MOST OVERRATED BAND WITH THE MOST PUNCHABLE COVER ART-Arctic Monkey's
HUMBLE PIES AWARD- Robbie Williams
I DON'T REALLY WRITE OR RESEARCH MY ARTICLES BUT I CAN SNIFF THINGS AWARD-Victoria Newton (The Sun)
FAGHAG OF THE YEAR-Victoria Newton (The Sun)
BORING FACE OF THE YEAR AWARD- This goes to this bespectacled middle-aged Asian woman who sometimes waits at my bus stop. I feel like thumping her in the face just to give it some life and character.
SEXLESS GARMENT- For the fourth year running, the THONG. Girls, pay attention. IT DOES NOT LOOK SEXY PEEKING OUT ABOVE YOUR HIPSTERS no more than heels and jeans look cool!
Happy new year x
Smirnov
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
The Best Before Christmas Special Selection Box (Bumper Edition!)
Welcome to a special edition of this blog entry. It's my Christmas special. Yes I realise that it's a bit premature but fuck it, if I was a retail establishment I'd be almost three months too late. Might as well get my office party out the way. Not that I have a real office but I suppose a desk is enough. But it still doesn't stop me feeling a little abnormal because I don't have an office to party in, or indeed any office staff to party with, or seduce them in the stock cupboard. So it's difficult to not feel left out, because, according to the national press that's where all the action is, everyone's having office parties, they've always had office parties, well at least ever since This Life. Maybe the whole world is an illusion and we're all living inside one gigantic office or a photocopier...floating inside the water cooler...You know that thing, where everyone meets to have a 'moment', anything from Bluetooth, to the shite that Catherine Tate passes off as humour. So what can you expect during this Christmas special? Well, as well as exclusive access to my office party, you will have the opportunity during my christmas special to go panic buying. Make sure you've enough petrol first. You can NEVER have enough petrol. Just join a queue somewhere. Doesn't matter if you'll be using the car that much, just make sure you've enough to last you for a couple of months. Fuck everyone else. Now that you're all tanked up you will have the chance to unreasonably empty every supermarket of bread and burn it somewhere. Stop the fat families buying fifteen loaves for two days.
And I've been neglecting something. Perhaps you can help me with something. I've got some empty can of diet coke, some empty bottles as well, and I've emptied the toilet duck plastic bottles I've been collecting. I'm looking to using them as makeshift baubles and bells for the tree and perimeter of the house. Ideally, I'd like to light the toilet duck bottles from the inside. Any piece of crap that you can get your hands on would be much appreciated. Fuck the electric bill. They can sing for it! I'd like to put underfloor lighting to the paving stones that lead to my house, like Michael Jackson's Beat it video. If we can't over-indulged now then why bother?
My christmas special doesn't end here. You can also join me as I compose a review and a schedule of television, and we must include the tired old jokes about Wizard of Oz, Bond films, emaciated fairies, smelly grandparents, left over turkey sandwiches, Santa's tooth decay, deceased monarchs, nightmares about mummies eyes composed of big shiny blood soaked baubles, and how, in this time of goodwill, we hope and pray that Charles Saatchi collection will go the same way as Hemel Hempstead Oil refinery.
Finally, join me later on, wine and mince pies nearby, by the lights of my Christmas tree as we reminisce about the season in times passed, when, as a child, we loved bells and candles made of of clay and candy, how we made our own party crowns at school from crepe paper, and ate jelly and flirted with our teachers. And we sang Little Donkey and felt sorry for the mule humping fatty Mary all the way to Bethlehem. How odd we thought camels were, well before they names some cigarettes after them and how we secretly hoped we'd see that big guiding light in the sky. And everyone of us felt special and protected. Yes, we'll talk about those old christmas discos where they play Wizzard, Shaky and even Gary Glitter and shed little nostalgic tears at the innocence of it all, and the pointlessness of adulthood. Then we'll clink our wine glasses as we listen to Holes by Mercury Rev.
I think my christmas special is almost over. Thank you for joining me. And you can relive this christmas with me as much as you like by scrolling down. Maybe this isn't enough, I should leave you with a some chocolates or a black and white film, so you can curl up in your Ikea sofa as it pisses freezing rain against the window, and you can consider how lucky and blessed you are, that you're born in the west, and all those freezing people in the Indian earthquake are not as spiritual as you, or you aren't any woman in Ipswich who have to contend with the biggest threat in this difficult period: The panic stricken media. Is that what you want? Perhaps I could hold up some mistletoe, offer you a cracker, seduce your partner...In the meantime until 25th December, don't let all those people keep whinging to you how commercial christmas is getting. Was there ever a time when it wasn't commercial in your life? If they want to supplement their feelings and spend hundreds or thousands of pounds, no-one is forcing them. I have to dash now. I must look at the research on the new big conspiracy, the one that will shake the foundations of the Royal Family to the core. The one you might have heard of. Was it they who arranged the death of the Thames Whale?
Goodnight and seasons greetings. x
And I've been neglecting something. Perhaps you can help me with something. I've got some empty can of diet coke, some empty bottles as well, and I've emptied the toilet duck plastic bottles I've been collecting. I'm looking to using them as makeshift baubles and bells for the tree and perimeter of the house. Ideally, I'd like to light the toilet duck bottles from the inside. Any piece of crap that you can get your hands on would be much appreciated. Fuck the electric bill. They can sing for it! I'd like to put underfloor lighting to the paving stones that lead to my house, like Michael Jackson's Beat it video. If we can't over-indulged now then why bother?
My christmas special doesn't end here. You can also join me as I compose a review and a schedule of television, and we must include the tired old jokes about Wizard of Oz, Bond films, emaciated fairies, smelly grandparents, left over turkey sandwiches, Santa's tooth decay, deceased monarchs, nightmares about mummies eyes composed of big shiny blood soaked baubles, and how, in this time of goodwill, we hope and pray that Charles Saatchi collection will go the same way as Hemel Hempstead Oil refinery.
Finally, join me later on, wine and mince pies nearby, by the lights of my Christmas tree as we reminisce about the season in times passed, when, as a child, we loved bells and candles made of of clay and candy, how we made our own party crowns at school from crepe paper, and ate jelly and flirted with our teachers. And we sang Little Donkey and felt sorry for the mule humping fatty Mary all the way to Bethlehem. How odd we thought camels were, well before they names some cigarettes after them and how we secretly hoped we'd see that big guiding light in the sky. And everyone of us felt special and protected. Yes, we'll talk about those old christmas discos where they play Wizzard, Shaky and even Gary Glitter and shed little nostalgic tears at the innocence of it all, and the pointlessness of adulthood. Then we'll clink our wine glasses as we listen to Holes by Mercury Rev.
I think my christmas special is almost over. Thank you for joining me. And you can relive this christmas with me as much as you like by scrolling down. Maybe this isn't enough, I should leave you with a some chocolates or a black and white film, so you can curl up in your Ikea sofa as it pisses freezing rain against the window, and you can consider how lucky and blessed you are, that you're born in the west, and all those freezing people in the Indian earthquake are not as spiritual as you, or you aren't any woman in Ipswich who have to contend with the biggest threat in this difficult period: The panic stricken media. Is that what you want? Perhaps I could hold up some mistletoe, offer you a cracker, seduce your partner...In the meantime until 25th December, don't let all those people keep whinging to you how commercial christmas is getting. Was there ever a time when it wasn't commercial in your life? If they want to supplement their feelings and spend hundreds or thousands of pounds, no-one is forcing them. I have to dash now. I must look at the research on the new big conspiracy, the one that will shake the foundations of the Royal Family to the core. The one you might have heard of. Was it they who arranged the death of the Thames Whale?
Goodnight and seasons greetings. x
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Breaking News...fear and loathing everywhere
At 3.35 p.m, an American Airlines flight from Bristol has been diverted due to fears fears that an asian trolley dolly wearing a crucifix, and a veil, refused to smile at a leering scumbag, who had his finger up her ass. The leading American airline which was thought to have carried a contraversial cargo which also included, Heather Mills' suitcases of false legs and cash and cracked potraits of Linda McCartney, vials of bird flu and the sars virus, deceased pedos, Romanian immigrants, a smug Russell T. Davies reading 'Heat' magazine, cancer sufferers, Matthew Kelly, crying racist girls, Jack Straw, Jewish evening standard journalists and one single magpie, had to to be diverted to Lebanon where it is thought a controlled explosion will later be carried out by a Sky news reporter with a shoulder held missle launcher, accompanied by studio laughter lifted from a Keith Baron moment in 1980's TV series 'Duty Free'. For obvious security reasons the as yet unnamed reporter will then be expected to turn the gun on themselves for all to see on youtube. A myspace page then will be set up to receive messages of condolence from well wishers and haters.
Moving on...plans are also afoot to create the country's first ASBO estate, where persistant anti-social families will be re-housed and given its very own community of black children to murder, cars to damage, its owners to also murder, and bus stops to piss and puke in, and to smash, and shag over the shards. Just in case they were under any delusion that there's fuck all to do in an estate.
Moving on...plans are also afoot to create the country's first ASBO estate, where persistant anti-social families will be re-housed and given its very own community of black children to murder, cars to damage, its owners to also murder, and bus stops to piss and puke in, and to smash, and shag over the shards. Just in case they were under any delusion that there's fuck all to do in an estate.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Manchester FutureVisions
It's been an interesting few days for the future of Manchester. I was recently invited to a 'tastemaking' meeting of minds regarding the cultural and future vision of Manchester at the Town Hall. (Not a great start). The gathering was attended and put together by representatives of local business, media, North West Arts board, councillors, young artists, reps from theatre, the world of art and a number of other communities. Generally, it's a response to Liverpool's 2008 city of culture status, a typical anal reactionary intitiative that will probably not amount to anything and will hemorrhage billions on a new logo, a couple of trees, and a lot of excuses for parties. The name of the project is FutureVisions. Naturally it was a dull affair but there were some interesting ideas that I'm not supposed to mention yet but I will anyway. Not sure what you lot will make of it. I'm not comfortable with some of the events. It's supposed to last for a hundred years. But these are the proposals. At least here's the proposed chronology of events before I was asked to leave, as I shouldn't have been there.
2007
The millennium wheel will have a make over. It will be known as Disco Carousel with each compartment featuring its own lights, glitter ball and a sophisticated sound system, pumping out a mix of disco, house, euro-dance, click house, minimalist, dubfuckery and charmbis.
2008
Mini inflatable Urbis buildings will be raised above the cities skyscrapers. For no reason other than it will raise the awareness that 'art is all around us.' Urbis have also proposed that from later this year they intend to sell miniature Urbis shaped helium balloons, coming in silver and transparent.
June
Google will buy out Manchester's 'Chinatown'. For the increased investment, any visitors who lose their friends, or just want to know anything about Manchester and the world, will be able to stop anyone who works in the area and ask them to search. There will be more adverts, and cookies targeting your needs if you're registered.
In the autumn the Royal Exchange will showcase a season of new and 'difficult' plays about MADCHESTER by school children from deprived areas in consultation with Bez. (I haven't been invited. Although I did propose a 'Bitterness' season from those who recently had good, strong, daring plays rejected.)
2009
An immigration exchange programme will take place. 'Manchester just isn't cultural enough,' according to one Liverpool councilor. Therefore a programme of swapping Mancunians with Polish and Iranian immigrants will take place for two months every summer. In 2010, Zimbabwe and Estonian will have an opportunity to spend two months walking up and down market street yelling into their mobile phones.
May
The problem of the homeless according to the council have blighted Manchester's transformation since 1996. So from this month, unregistered homeless people will be escorted to London with a £1,000 spending money, and those in Manchester who work for the Big Issue, will, to lighten the tone, be required to wear Lycra catsuits, emblazoned with adverts in neon colours for Habitat, Heals and Cafe Pop. (Reps for the Big Issue at the meeting were seething at this exchange of ideas from image directors of Habitat and Selfridges-Ed)
October
Later this year, there will be a 'Hairstyle Amnesty'. Those of you with hairstyles that are spiky, feathered, dyed, textured, layered, 'knifed', hoxtonite peaks, and generally considered to be absurd will have an opportunity to have them removed at specially commissioned salons on every street. (They'll be little tents with diagonal red and white stripes) Anyone who remotely looks like Russel Brand will automatically have to eat his/her own hair.
Hopefully be the end of the year we might see Peter Saville's new logo (a multi-coloured question mark) for Manchester. He will have been invited to submit his design by December 2006.
Fops who work at some of the more prestigious shops will be discouraged to 'play down their act' by undertaking regular job placements at Aldi, Netto, Tesco's and Primark. For those who still act foppish, they will be forced to make a living be selling those crappy glow sticks and stuff you place into your mouth that makes you sound like a 24 carat dicknose.
2010
As we know, with respect, Mayors are usually a bit old and dull looking. Which is why from 2010, could see the introduction of celebrity guest Mayors, starting with Manchester's adopted icon, Gordon Burns. His 6 week run will see him undertake the duties such as openings and attending meetings. Not much really. Other Mayors for consideration, Julia Goodyear (if she's still alive), Tim Booth, Bez and one of the girls who work at Schu. Tony Wilson will have no involvement. The Chuckle Brothers have also expressed an interest.
Also for six months, to forge cultural and European links Manchester will be re-named 'Milan'. At the cost of millions new motorway signs and stationary will be redesigned to reflect this. It is hoped that Virgin's London-Milan route will prove more popular. Of course it is important that every effort is made to curb the confusion that may occur when Manchester Utd and Manchester City are respectively re-named AC and Inter Milan.
October
MEN will undergo a change of format. Eventually catching on from the likes of The Guardian and the Observer, (but without the content) the MEN will introduce the CD Booklet format, they intend to call ' the Booter'. But that's not all. Guest editors will take over complete editorships. Contributors will also be expected to begin every feature saying what they got up to in the week. Editors who have already expressed an interest are Nick Griffin, Geri Halliwell, Terry Christian, Tony Wilson (who will not be considered), Peter Kay, and Weathergirl, Diane Oxberry. A special 'Breaking News' edition will also be launched, which will be like ' an ipod, only the headlines will refresh every time some news item will come in' someone from MEN has claimed. 'It'll be £177.00 but you won't have to buy any issues. Of course you'll have pop ups and adverts, and cold callers but hey, who cares when you're getting the best, the most informative, entertaining and balanced news in the region?'
A concentrated effort to solve the 'Goth' problem, especially outside of Urbis will be tackled. Meetings will be held within the music industry to try and persuade rock acts to, just to be different, to wear white, and sell white t-shirts. Under 'white is the new black' campain, goths will be given free white gear and Urbis balloons. Then when the Thora Birch's ( a la Ghost World) gather together to hold hands in the boring 'are we or aren't we' gay manner, they've got from Tatu, and the thin geeks who'll never be Tony Hawks hang, they will look pretty and no more conventional than they are now. The public will be encouraged to observe them, stroke them and interact, rather like the Cow Parade in 2003. (But just don't mention Necronomicon though. Don't tell a 17 year old mind what bullshit it is. You'll be there all week.)
2011
The hope is by then, that the Cornerhouse will have undergone it's facelift. The jury is out at the moment whether or not they will become a SPAR Deluxe or if it'll be put up for sale as a casual house. What's clear is that it will make way for a space more open to people's 24 hour needs. (As a compromise I suggested that they could open a retro video shop, Vidhusenineteenen Eighture And the Screen 1 could be adapted play old VHS movies.)
2012
Taking its cue from the recent Chicago Gay Games, a Gay Fortnight will hopefully see everyone being a sport and taking part. All kinds of events and festivals will take place. (No really. This is a great idea! It's true.) Shag tags will also be introduced to a zone in Picadilly Gardens. Free love, I tell ya! (Why does someone not introduce this now?)
September
1960s month. In will come pre-decimal currency, full fat meals, 1960s television in beautiful black and white glory, women frowned on upon if they go to a pub, back street abortionists. Out will go anything that isn't of 1960-1969, including those that weren't born before or during. Many buildings will have their shop fronts and facades either altered to recreate the original buildings or have to be blotted out if they weren't in existence. Many premises might also have to relocate around the city to their old premises. Hey, it'll be swinging!
2013
May-August
The giant TV screen in exchange square which will hopefully not be run by the BBC but by Future Visions. It will show porn films featuring Bob Geldoff's daughter, Peaches, raising money for African charities. Future Visions will also launch Porn for Africa in association with E4 and The Guardian. In November the 'Porn Free' month will, as a social experiment, see the City of Manchester stadium hosting the world's biggest orgy. A Channel 4 series will be made about it.
2016
The Passion of the Christ 2 is launched to celebrate ten years of the daft event. Christ will be played by Peter Kay and Judas by Tony Wilson.
2026
Bus drivers to be fitted with a personality chip. It will be installed on the shoulder to replace the old one.
What I do understand though, is that Tony Wilson will not be involved (apart from the Christ sequel that is).
2007
The millennium wheel will have a make over. It will be known as Disco Carousel with each compartment featuring its own lights, glitter ball and a sophisticated sound system, pumping out a mix of disco, house, euro-dance, click house, minimalist, dubfuckery and charmbis.
2008
Mini inflatable Urbis buildings will be raised above the cities skyscrapers. For no reason other than it will raise the awareness that 'art is all around us.' Urbis have also proposed that from later this year they intend to sell miniature Urbis shaped helium balloons, coming in silver and transparent.
June
Google will buy out Manchester's 'Chinatown'. For the increased investment, any visitors who lose their friends, or just want to know anything about Manchester and the world, will be able to stop anyone who works in the area and ask them to search. There will be more adverts, and cookies targeting your needs if you're registered.
In the autumn the Royal Exchange will showcase a season of new and 'difficult' plays about MADCHESTER by school children from deprived areas in consultation with Bez. (I haven't been invited. Although I did propose a 'Bitterness' season from those who recently had good, strong, daring plays rejected.)
2009
An immigration exchange programme will take place. 'Manchester just isn't cultural enough,' according to one Liverpool councilor. Therefore a programme of swapping Mancunians with Polish and Iranian immigrants will take place for two months every summer. In 2010, Zimbabwe and Estonian will have an opportunity to spend two months walking up and down market street yelling into their mobile phones.
May
The problem of the homeless according to the council have blighted Manchester's transformation since 1996. So from this month, unregistered homeless people will be escorted to London with a £1,000 spending money, and those in Manchester who work for the Big Issue, will, to lighten the tone, be required to wear Lycra catsuits, emblazoned with adverts in neon colours for Habitat, Heals and Cafe Pop. (Reps for the Big Issue at the meeting were seething at this exchange of ideas from image directors of Habitat and Selfridges-Ed)
October
Later this year, there will be a 'Hairstyle Amnesty'. Those of you with hairstyles that are spiky, feathered, dyed, textured, layered, 'knifed', hoxtonite peaks, and generally considered to be absurd will have an opportunity to have them removed at specially commissioned salons on every street. (They'll be little tents with diagonal red and white stripes) Anyone who remotely looks like Russel Brand will automatically have to eat his/her own hair.
Hopefully be the end of the year we might see Peter Saville's new logo (a multi-coloured question mark) for Manchester. He will have been invited to submit his design by December 2006.
Fops who work at some of the more prestigious shops will be discouraged to 'play down their act' by undertaking regular job placements at Aldi, Netto, Tesco's and Primark. For those who still act foppish, they will be forced to make a living be selling those crappy glow sticks and stuff you place into your mouth that makes you sound like a 24 carat dicknose.
2010
As we know, with respect, Mayors are usually a bit old and dull looking. Which is why from 2010, could see the introduction of celebrity guest Mayors, starting with Manchester's adopted icon, Gordon Burns. His 6 week run will see him undertake the duties such as openings and attending meetings. Not much really. Other Mayors for consideration, Julia Goodyear (if she's still alive), Tim Booth, Bez and one of the girls who work at Schu. Tony Wilson will have no involvement. The Chuckle Brothers have also expressed an interest.
Also for six months, to forge cultural and European links Manchester will be re-named 'Milan'. At the cost of millions new motorway signs and stationary will be redesigned to reflect this. It is hoped that Virgin's London-Milan route will prove more popular. Of course it is important that every effort is made to curb the confusion that may occur when Manchester Utd and Manchester City are respectively re-named AC and Inter Milan.
October
MEN will undergo a change of format. Eventually catching on from the likes of The Guardian and the Observer, (but without the content) the MEN will introduce the CD Booklet format, they intend to call ' the Booter'. But that's not all. Guest editors will take over complete editorships. Contributors will also be expected to begin every feature saying what they got up to in the week. Editors who have already expressed an interest are Nick Griffin, Geri Halliwell, Terry Christian, Tony Wilson (who will not be considered), Peter Kay, and Weathergirl, Diane Oxberry. A special 'Breaking News' edition will also be launched, which will be like ' an ipod, only the headlines will refresh every time some news item will come in' someone from MEN has claimed. 'It'll be £177.00 but you won't have to buy any issues. Of course you'll have pop ups and adverts, and cold callers but hey, who cares when you're getting the best, the most informative, entertaining and balanced news in the region?'
A concentrated effort to solve the 'Goth' problem, especially outside of Urbis will be tackled. Meetings will be held within the music industry to try and persuade rock acts to, just to be different, to wear white, and sell white t-shirts. Under 'white is the new black' campain, goths will be given free white gear and Urbis balloons. Then when the Thora Birch's ( a la Ghost World) gather together to hold hands in the boring 'are we or aren't we' gay manner, they've got from Tatu, and the thin geeks who'll never be Tony Hawks hang, they will look pretty and no more conventional than they are now. The public will be encouraged to observe them, stroke them and interact, rather like the Cow Parade in 2003. (But just don't mention Necronomicon though. Don't tell a 17 year old mind what bullshit it is. You'll be there all week.)
2011
The hope is by then, that the Cornerhouse will have undergone it's facelift. The jury is out at the moment whether or not they will become a SPAR Deluxe or if it'll be put up for sale as a casual house. What's clear is that it will make way for a space more open to people's 24 hour needs. (As a compromise I suggested that they could open a retro video shop, Vidhusenineteenen Eighture And the Screen 1 could be adapted play old VHS movies.)
2012
Taking its cue from the recent Chicago Gay Games, a Gay Fortnight will hopefully see everyone being a sport and taking part. All kinds of events and festivals will take place. (No really. This is a great idea! It's true.) Shag tags will also be introduced to a zone in Picadilly Gardens. Free love, I tell ya! (Why does someone not introduce this now?)
September
1960s month. In will come pre-decimal currency, full fat meals, 1960s television in beautiful black and white glory, women frowned on upon if they go to a pub, back street abortionists. Out will go anything that isn't of 1960-1969, including those that weren't born before or during. Many buildings will have their shop fronts and facades either altered to recreate the original buildings or have to be blotted out if they weren't in existence. Many premises might also have to relocate around the city to their old premises. Hey, it'll be swinging!
2013
May-August
The giant TV screen in exchange square which will hopefully not be run by the BBC but by Future Visions. It will show porn films featuring Bob Geldoff's daughter, Peaches, raising money for African charities. Future Visions will also launch Porn for Africa in association with E4 and The Guardian. In November the 'Porn Free' month will, as a social experiment, see the City of Manchester stadium hosting the world's biggest orgy. A Channel 4 series will be made about it.
2016
The Passion of the Christ 2 is launched to celebrate ten years of the daft event. Christ will be played by Peter Kay and Judas by Tony Wilson.
2026
Bus drivers to be fitted with a personality chip. It will be installed on the shoulder to replace the old one.
What I do understand though, is that Tony Wilson will not be involved (apart from the Christ sequel that is).
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
The Programmes With The Sensationalist Titles Which Pretend To Be Educational And Informative When They Are Nothing More Than 21st Century Freakshows
SYou know what I'm talking about. For those of you who don't here are some examples to refresh your memories ;
* The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off
* The Woman Who Gave Birth To Her Sister
* ASBO Babies (a spin off from ASBO Pensioners)
* 4x4 Timebombers
* The Boy Whose Brain Grew Out Of His Arse
* Help, My Son Is a Spoilt Attention Seeker Who I Believe Has ESP. I'm Really That Weak, Insecure And Gullible
* The Laughing Rapist-A profile of Roger The Clown
* The Woman Whose Teeth Exploded One Saturday in Marks and Spencer
* Diary of an STD Addict
* The Pissed and The Serious: The Story of the Mini Motorbike and the Knobs That Ride Them
For some time I've been explaining how we are fucked as a society in many different ways. It goes without saying that politics and religion fucks us up the most, with all its feeble promises and hypocrisy, but they have formidable allies in society and in the media. And you know when television is desperate when you have to force interest and sensationalism on subjects that are nothing more than Circus freakshows. 'It's water cooler TV!' critics and execs often say, as they strive for 'water cooler moments'. Let me tell you something now. Anyone, anyone who uses the term 'water cooler television' or 'water cooler TV' (god I can't stand to type it) is a TWAT. A hateful twat. They are the same kind of pricks who think society exists in some kind of big fuck off office. Imagine that. Hell on Earth. Like the world of Television Executives, their lives revolve around actioning, piloting, targeting and agendas. Anyone would think that they work in the Ministry of Defense. Water cooler moments! That doesn't make the product any more profound in this day of fragmented culture. Fuck me, Ken Bigley's beheading over the internet was arguably a WCM- that doesn't make the act, and the arseholes who take pleasure in gossiping about it any less shitty and depressing. Fuck off! If WCMs is just another by product of more inane, mediorce, shite programmes and related products that wouldn't go anywhere near any boundaries, then shoot yourselves in the head right now (Now THAT would be a WCM!)
Where was I? Yeah, apart the one 'documentary' on my list above, that is genuinely interesting, moving and educational, like the insensitively titled The Boys Whose Skin Fell Off, there seems to be a culture of what I call Lowest Common Denominator television, which obviously spans across the expanse of the medium, typified from reality TV, Quiz phone ins, gaming, etc.
These docs may fall under the umbrella of 'Human Interest' but the absence of millions upon millions of viewers who'd rather watch other mediorce programmes, or do anything to avoid this shit tells us that there really isn't much of an interest in humans, not when this 'interest' is pushed, and any humanity has been wrung out of the final edit, so the end result is often a cold, detached, insincere summary. Even the less cynical producers and directors might be as subtle as a tank drenched in poison when they sign post emotions, linger on tearful faces, and edit it to resemble an episode of Emmerdale.
The simple reason for this is that these programmes are shit. Executives and producers think that intended/target/ the vast majority of audiences in fact are dole scum. It's true. I could name names of the arseholes who have either implied or outrightly said as much in the past. But the inescapable truth that is being made obvious and is clear for all to see is that execs, commissioning editors and producers have NO DRIVE, NO VISION, NO TALENT, NO IMAGINATION and no desire to make riveting documentaries, dramas and comedy programmes. For every rare gem there are about 1000 tacky Argoslite cheap pieces of crap. This responsibility seems to fall to mavericks, independent directors and producers, 'media terrorists' who are quite rightly unconcerned by manufactured trends, budgets and what not. Thank heavens for them or we'd be 100% fucked instead of 90% screwed.
And for those of you bored soppy gits who love talking about shit things, why not entertain your freakshow car crash tendacies and see how many alternative sensationalist titles you can come up with for imaginary documentaries. Go on...show the execs that any old scumbag and made for TV directors/producers can devise an idea for the great unwashed and socially bewildered. I know I could do better. I may come across as a bitter queen with an axe to grind but TV does smuggery and self-indulgence much better than I can envisage. They don't take risks though. Even Channel 4's forthcoming 'wankathon'. It's not risky. A few nasty moaning letters in the Daily Mail is hardly controversial these days. The show is yet another daft, cynical excerise in ultimate self-indulgence. If you want to imagine an image of the future just think of a fat man in an expensive suit, a bulging shirt and a sweaty forehead, masturbating and crying, masturbating and crying...
MINI MOTORS
I'm glad these mini motorbikes are being crushed. Not because they are noisy or they are anti-social but for the sole reason that the plebs who ride them look so dorky and pathetic with their legs sticking out. It's just a shame that these modern day clowns won't be crushed while strapped in to their toys. That would make good tele, eh? Now...when is someone going to deal with 4x4 owners and their families in the same way...
* The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off
* The Woman Who Gave Birth To Her Sister
* ASBO Babies (a spin off from ASBO Pensioners)
* 4x4 Timebombers
* The Boy Whose Brain Grew Out Of His Arse
* Help, My Son Is a Spoilt Attention Seeker Who I Believe Has ESP. I'm Really That Weak, Insecure And Gullible
* The Laughing Rapist-A profile of Roger The Clown
* The Woman Whose Teeth Exploded One Saturday in Marks and Spencer
* Diary of an STD Addict
* The Pissed and The Serious: The Story of the Mini Motorbike and the Knobs That Ride Them
For some time I've been explaining how we are fucked as a society in many different ways. It goes without saying that politics and religion fucks us up the most, with all its feeble promises and hypocrisy, but they have formidable allies in society and in the media. And you know when television is desperate when you have to force interest and sensationalism on subjects that are nothing more than Circus freakshows. 'It's water cooler TV!' critics and execs often say, as they strive for 'water cooler moments'. Let me tell you something now. Anyone, anyone who uses the term 'water cooler television' or 'water cooler TV' (god I can't stand to type it) is a TWAT. A hateful twat. They are the same kind of pricks who think society exists in some kind of big fuck off office. Imagine that. Hell on Earth. Like the world of Television Executives, their lives revolve around actioning, piloting, targeting and agendas. Anyone would think that they work in the Ministry of Defense. Water cooler moments! That doesn't make the product any more profound in this day of fragmented culture. Fuck me, Ken Bigley's beheading over the internet was arguably a WCM- that doesn't make the act, and the arseholes who take pleasure in gossiping about it any less shitty and depressing. Fuck off! If WCMs is just another by product of more inane, mediorce, shite programmes and related products that wouldn't go anywhere near any boundaries, then shoot yourselves in the head right now (Now THAT would be a WCM!)
Where was I? Yeah, apart the one 'documentary' on my list above, that is genuinely interesting, moving and educational, like the insensitively titled The Boys Whose Skin Fell Off, there seems to be a culture of what I call Lowest Common Denominator television, which obviously spans across the expanse of the medium, typified from reality TV, Quiz phone ins, gaming, etc.
These docs may fall under the umbrella of 'Human Interest' but the absence of millions upon millions of viewers who'd rather watch other mediorce programmes, or do anything to avoid this shit tells us that there really isn't much of an interest in humans, not when this 'interest' is pushed, and any humanity has been wrung out of the final edit, so the end result is often a cold, detached, insincere summary. Even the less cynical producers and directors might be as subtle as a tank drenched in poison when they sign post emotions, linger on tearful faces, and edit it to resemble an episode of Emmerdale.
The simple reason for this is that these programmes are shit. Executives and producers think that intended/target/ the vast majority of audiences in fact are dole scum. It's true. I could name names of the arseholes who have either implied or outrightly said as much in the past. But the inescapable truth that is being made obvious and is clear for all to see is that execs, commissioning editors and producers have NO DRIVE, NO VISION, NO TALENT, NO IMAGINATION and no desire to make riveting documentaries, dramas and comedy programmes. For every rare gem there are about 1000 tacky Argoslite cheap pieces of crap. This responsibility seems to fall to mavericks, independent directors and producers, 'media terrorists' who are quite rightly unconcerned by manufactured trends, budgets and what not. Thank heavens for them or we'd be 100% fucked instead of 90% screwed.
And for those of you bored soppy gits who love talking about shit things, why not entertain your freakshow car crash tendacies and see how many alternative sensationalist titles you can come up with for imaginary documentaries. Go on...show the execs that any old scumbag and made for TV directors/producers can devise an idea for the great unwashed and socially bewildered. I know I could do better. I may come across as a bitter queen with an axe to grind but TV does smuggery and self-indulgence much better than I can envisage. They don't take risks though. Even Channel 4's forthcoming 'wankathon'. It's not risky. A few nasty moaning letters in the Daily Mail is hardly controversial these days. The show is yet another daft, cynical excerise in ultimate self-indulgence. If you want to imagine an image of the future just think of a fat man in an expensive suit, a bulging shirt and a sweaty forehead, masturbating and crying, masturbating and crying...
MINI MOTORS
I'm glad these mini motorbikes are being crushed. Not because they are noisy or they are anti-social but for the sole reason that the plebs who ride them look so dorky and pathetic with their legs sticking out. It's just a shame that these modern day clowns won't be crushed while strapped in to their toys. That would make good tele, eh? Now...when is someone going to deal with 4x4 owners and their families in the same way...
Sunday, July 30, 2006
TOTP VS PUNK:Killing two birds with one stone
Might as well add my thoughts to the demise of TOTP as well as responding to some bollocks blog entry that TOTP was simply crap because it didn't feature live performances as well as reflecting popular music and chart tastes. The TOTP remit was always to focus on the best selling singles. It was NEVER about fringe/alternative bands. The reason that it has failed has come about in part because the BBC fucked with its format for the past 15 years, which is why it has not been relevant for a long time. Coincidently with the spate of manufactured groups, and the so called (don't laugh) 'punkification of society' this format was never going to work, and thus viewing figures suffered. As well as this single sales in general were also dimishing. These aspects were also in part due to the Music Industry's efforts and obssession to break the next big thing.
Going back to the punk thing though is fairly amusing. Perhaps one of the biggest and most relevant punk acts in the world, the Sex Pistols, were as we know, manfactured, as are many more today, featuring artists and bands who couldn't be any less corperate or rebellious, if they had something to rebel about. Surely the punk ethic was always 'screw establishment, be individual'. So I've never understood why they bother to sign up with money grabbing huge rec companies. Maybe Punk means something else. I don't know. But, although The Clash didn't like the idea of performing on the show The Stranglers certainly didn't mind (In fact they even purposely mimed badly such was the obvious tongue in cheek nature of this), and the indie New Order clearly didn't give a fuck about performing on TOTP, even insisting that they did it live, which they later admitted was a mistake as it sounded nothing like the record (Blue Monday). So it's laughable that it was ever sold as a serious 'live format'. It never was. And everyone knows it. Manic Street Preachers (back in the old days) even performed while dressed with terrorist balacalvas.
Of course TOTP is shite. It has been for a long time. New music is generally shite these days with NOTHING original to say. So what? But in its heyday, TOTP was essential television for good pop music, with many TOTP moments on it. It's highly likely that Lily Allen would miss TOTP. After all she is about as alternative and self-made as the Spice Girls. As is her 'oh so rebellious' attitude and music. She is not the product of her own get up and go attitude. Along with some of the music press, she is the product of the NME's school of hype. 'Let's see who we can hype this summer. Let's see who can be our new voice of the generation.' TOTP is sooo Lily Allen. She is so inoffensive and safe she makes Judy Finnigan seem like Courtney Love. And the NME may one day go the same way as TOTP, as that too, along with Kerrang has lost any relevance and credibility since the early 90s. Rock and Roll ethics these days seem to be incredibly forced, and harder to take when fronted by havily styled people whose social background was so perfect that they consequently have nothing new or interesting to say. (See my entry Pete Doherty: Genius or Dick)
Sadly the answer isn't with myspace these days. Sure it's a good idea but since Murdoch took over it's one of the most corperate anti-punk, anti-alternative, mainstream mediums for music out there. In this new age of perfectionsim, tokenism and the 'who you know' factor, I fear that Lily Allen wouldn't have got a second look if she looked like Shane McGowan. So I'd say that 'punkification of society' isn't a postive thing these days as it is just as aspirational as Simon Cowell and Max Clifford. The attitude and lifestyle is all fake, the music and style is actually so fashioned and concentrated, bordering on the bland, that it's all become to boring to take in. As for indivduality, well just pick a spot at the back of Urbis. There's a mass of indivduality out there, along with the fashioned and insincere problems. In fact Starbucks (which many punks frequent) has more punk ethics. The famous line by Johnny Rotten, 'Ever get the feeling that you've been cheated? ', still carries much weight today.
I'm not sad that TOTP is going. I haven't properly followed it for a long time. And what I've seen has been depressing. But I'll always remember the best bits, the bits that were associated with my youth before it really did go shit. The essential thing though is that the BBC fucked up the format. Consider that along with the general heap of shit that is the Top 40 and that the show which was a family show, which families can't be arsed to watch anymore because 1. It's crap and 2. There's all kinds of distractions these days, and that is why it's failed.
It's fuck all to do with society wisening up. If anything our Big Brotherised society and the media is far more mediorce than its ever been, and the sad thing is, all the freedom the internet has given us to learn, to create, to inform... all this power to improve ourselves as well as gain entertainment, and all we come up with is crappy youtube clips and questionable myspace attention seekers, and daft forums where txtspk is the new language, and pointless blogs about what a twat our boss is, then we know the future is fucked.
Going back to the punk thing though is fairly amusing. Perhaps one of the biggest and most relevant punk acts in the world, the Sex Pistols, were as we know, manfactured, as are many more today, featuring artists and bands who couldn't be any less corperate or rebellious, if they had something to rebel about. Surely the punk ethic was always 'screw establishment, be individual'. So I've never understood why they bother to sign up with money grabbing huge rec companies. Maybe Punk means something else. I don't know. But, although The Clash didn't like the idea of performing on the show The Stranglers certainly didn't mind (In fact they even purposely mimed badly such was the obvious tongue in cheek nature of this), and the indie New Order clearly didn't give a fuck about performing on TOTP, even insisting that they did it live, which they later admitted was a mistake as it sounded nothing like the record (Blue Monday). So it's laughable that it was ever sold as a serious 'live format'. It never was. And everyone knows it. Manic Street Preachers (back in the old days) even performed while dressed with terrorist balacalvas.
Of course TOTP is shite. It has been for a long time. New music is generally shite these days with NOTHING original to say. So what? But in its heyday, TOTP was essential television for good pop music, with many TOTP moments on it. It's highly likely that Lily Allen would miss TOTP. After all she is about as alternative and self-made as the Spice Girls. As is her 'oh so rebellious' attitude and music. She is not the product of her own get up and go attitude. Along with some of the music press, she is the product of the NME's school of hype. 'Let's see who we can hype this summer. Let's see who can be our new voice of the generation.' TOTP is sooo Lily Allen. She is so inoffensive and safe she makes Judy Finnigan seem like Courtney Love. And the NME may one day go the same way as TOTP, as that too, along with Kerrang has lost any relevance and credibility since the early 90s. Rock and Roll ethics these days seem to be incredibly forced, and harder to take when fronted by havily styled people whose social background was so perfect that they consequently have nothing new or interesting to say. (See my entry Pete Doherty: Genius or Dick)
Sadly the answer isn't with myspace these days. Sure it's a good idea but since Murdoch took over it's one of the most corperate anti-punk, anti-alternative, mainstream mediums for music out there. In this new age of perfectionsim, tokenism and the 'who you know' factor, I fear that Lily Allen wouldn't have got a second look if she looked like Shane McGowan. So I'd say that 'punkification of society' isn't a postive thing these days as it is just as aspirational as Simon Cowell and Max Clifford. The attitude and lifestyle is all fake, the music and style is actually so fashioned and concentrated, bordering on the bland, that it's all become to boring to take in. As for indivduality, well just pick a spot at the back of Urbis. There's a mass of indivduality out there, along with the fashioned and insincere problems. In fact Starbucks (which many punks frequent) has more punk ethics. The famous line by Johnny Rotten, 'Ever get the feeling that you've been cheated? ', still carries much weight today.
I'm not sad that TOTP is going. I haven't properly followed it for a long time. And what I've seen has been depressing. But I'll always remember the best bits, the bits that were associated with my youth before it really did go shit. The essential thing though is that the BBC fucked up the format. Consider that along with the general heap of shit that is the Top 40 and that the show which was a family show, which families can't be arsed to watch anymore because 1. It's crap and 2. There's all kinds of distractions these days, and that is why it's failed.
It's fuck all to do with society wisening up. If anything our Big Brotherised society and the media is far more mediorce than its ever been, and the sad thing is, all the freedom the internet has given us to learn, to create, to inform... all this power to improve ourselves as well as gain entertainment, and all we come up with is crappy youtube clips and questionable myspace attention seekers, and daft forums where txtspk is the new language, and pointless blogs about what a twat our boss is, then we know the future is fucked.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Deathwatch
Wonder when we'll see the first youtube death. It's bound to happen. I'm susprised we haven't yet seen Diana's death posted on it yet. Not that I would care to watch anyone's death, regardless of whether the are a Princess of the people or not. In fact I'm still traumatised by the fictional hanging of Bjork in Dancer in The Dark. People are fascinated by death, whether it be those weird old women who attend the funerals of strangers under the vale of 'paying respects', those morbid arsecakes who scan the Deaths section in the local rag, or even by killing people and writing their families letters saying how glad they were that they watched the victim suffer. (Mind you the Deaths section is probably the most entertaining part in the majority of local rags. The style and tone of writing has more flair.)
In fact I have a mate who crosses out the names of the recently deceased, from the Telephone directories. (I believe it is a popular hobby with a lot of people. For others it's the only time they get to hear news about their relatives). And it's taken over the internet. There was the German guy who ate his lover in some bizarre sex ritual after meeting on the internet, there are scores of depressed teens, attention seekers, death chasers and I use this term loosely) 'goths' who either write suicide blogs and join discussion forums, suggesting a manner of ways that death can be achieved. There was one called The Hand Holding Sisters of No Mercy, not long ago, which spoke of suicide options by mascara of all things, and even had a helpline for troubled teens who needed help getting out of the world, or finding somewhere they could die alone.
Obviously it closed down about four years ago.
There are also some 'lighthearted' examples of websites that have a deathwish or a deathwatch aspect, whereupon there are polls and competetions to see who will die this year. Current favourites or wishes, include Patrick Moore, The Queen, Margaret Thatcher and Paul O Grady.
Then there are the worst cases. The voyeurs. In the 80s and 90s they would have watched snuff movies, real life muder and rape. They're the type into big women who crush frogs and mice under their boots. These are the kind of people, like a guy I once knew at Uni, who showed me a pic of what looked like the inside of a watermelon with hair, and told me it was Kurt Cobain's head. These voyeurs will watch the those on Deathrow get executed, they will be the types who feel the death penalty is just in some US states and moan when another 'state' lobs off the head of someone from the West. But in the main all death, and especially execution is fair game, if they can get to see it, download it and forward it to their mates with the subject header 'How cool is this?' Or 'Death Rules!' Without being self-righteous there is a curio factor which is understandable. But I can't help imagine that they'd fail to see the cool side if I sent them a link of their mangled up loved ones, their special angel begging for mercy before a bullet in the face. It's fair enough that those who watch violence aren't obviously going to go out on a Patrick Bateman spree. The same goes for porn. Just because you have whacked off over two Annabel Croft types having sex, doesn't mean that you intend to be the next Fred West. (By the way he does resemble Jeremy Beadle without a beard)
If it's death these folks want to see in progress and they are patient enough, the soloution is simple. Just look in the mirror for as long as you can. Look at that sad excuse for a face, whose owner will never be what they wanted to be, whose life has passed them by, for which there will be no reprieve. Watch that person as they are slowly dying everyday, ageing ever closer to their fate of nothingness and that indignant inevitable explosion of piss and excrement. All the waste. All that time spent gawping at poor bastards as if the internet is great because it's one giant, never ending issue of Bizarre magazine. Your days are numbered. At a rough guess I'd say possibly sometime in 2039. If only you can film those 40 odd years for youtube, you'd have nothing to lose. You've had posterity. And let's face it, it wouldn't be any worse than the rest of self-indulgent dullard bile that passes for curiosity. (And they say censorship is a bad thing)
In fact I have a mate who crosses out the names of the recently deceased, from the Telephone directories. (I believe it is a popular hobby with a lot of people. For others it's the only time they get to hear news about their relatives). And it's taken over the internet. There was the German guy who ate his lover in some bizarre sex ritual after meeting on the internet, there are scores of depressed teens, attention seekers, death chasers and I use this term loosely) 'goths' who either write suicide blogs and join discussion forums, suggesting a manner of ways that death can be achieved. There was one called The Hand Holding Sisters of No Mercy, not long ago, which spoke of suicide options by mascara of all things, and even had a helpline for troubled teens who needed help getting out of the world, or finding somewhere they could die alone.
Obviously it closed down about four years ago.
There are also some 'lighthearted' examples of websites that have a deathwish or a deathwatch aspect, whereupon there are polls and competetions to see who will die this year. Current favourites or wishes, include Patrick Moore, The Queen, Margaret Thatcher and Paul O Grady.
Then there are the worst cases. The voyeurs. In the 80s and 90s they would have watched snuff movies, real life muder and rape. They're the type into big women who crush frogs and mice under their boots. These are the kind of people, like a guy I once knew at Uni, who showed me a pic of what looked like the inside of a watermelon with hair, and told me it was Kurt Cobain's head. These voyeurs will watch the those on Deathrow get executed, they will be the types who feel the death penalty is just in some US states and moan when another 'state' lobs off the head of someone from the West. But in the main all death, and especially execution is fair game, if they can get to see it, download it and forward it to their mates with the subject header 'How cool is this?' Or 'Death Rules!' Without being self-righteous there is a curio factor which is understandable. But I can't help imagine that they'd fail to see the cool side if I sent them a link of their mangled up loved ones, their special angel begging for mercy before a bullet in the face. It's fair enough that those who watch violence aren't obviously going to go out on a Patrick Bateman spree. The same goes for porn. Just because you have whacked off over two Annabel Croft types having sex, doesn't mean that you intend to be the next Fred West. (By the way he does resemble Jeremy Beadle without a beard)
If it's death these folks want to see in progress and they are patient enough, the soloution is simple. Just look in the mirror for as long as you can. Look at that sad excuse for a face, whose owner will never be what they wanted to be, whose life has passed them by, for which there will be no reprieve. Watch that person as they are slowly dying everyday, ageing ever closer to their fate of nothingness and that indignant inevitable explosion of piss and excrement. All the waste. All that time spent gawping at poor bastards as if the internet is great because it's one giant, never ending issue of Bizarre magazine. Your days are numbered. At a rough guess I'd say possibly sometime in 2039. If only you can film those 40 odd years for youtube, you'd have nothing to lose. You've had posterity. And let's face it, it wouldn't be any worse than the rest of self-indulgent dullard bile that passes for curiosity. (And they say censorship is a bad thing)
Monday, July 17, 2006
Prostitute pop
Here's a pic of Keith Allen's daughter. Go on, have a wank. Go on! I wouldn't normally encourage people to wank over the daughter of the semi-famous (there was a good reason for not wanking over Geldoff's daughter) but you'd only be joining the long queue of sychophants and the easily pleased.Come on, what's the matter with you? I'm only partaking in the metaphor for our wonderful media's appetite for 'taste', irony and the tackiness. She's no better than Lordi, surely. But hey, if she doesn't mind sounding like a curious mix of Corraine-Bailey Rae/Pop Idol contestant then that's her lookout. This prostitute pop might work for you but it's yet another example of where hype fails to deliver the goods. In fact the only thing you can be sure of is that when there's a hype, YOU KNOW it's going to be shit. YOU KNOW that the 'tastemakers' and the media are fucking hopeless, and wouldn't know a good thing if it stabbed their dying father in the face.
Aw, but bless her. Doesn't she look like a cute little monkey. Apparently she's got a streak of attitude in her. She does irony too. Only recently she was slagging off The Libertines and enjoying her hate mail becuase she viewed a lot of indie as forumulaic and bland. (Quite right too, although hardly an original observation, and coming from where you are dear, you are THE LAST PERSON to call something samey, love.). Sure, this shit will sell. Shit sells! She'll be popular with 12 old girls and mini middle class sluts the UK over. Men in their late 40s won't buy her novelty pop but they'll gladly want to come on her face. (But they'll be thinking of Gwen Steffani).
Much internet speculation has been made of to what her extent her family connections have contributed to this middle class, Stefani-lite chick's success. I'm sure it didn't harm it, although her father rarely does anyone any favours from his own projects. But I'm one of the few folks who actually like her dad. You never know where you are with him. He's the kind of bloke who might try and shag you, or assault you, but in any case, you can have a beer with and moan about how shite modern music is. As for his daughter you can see her for miles. It already feels tired after one single. Every trick has been used. The background story, the 'experiences', the image, the sound. It's so ordinary. Inoffensive. Radio 2 material. She's preferable to Cheryl Tweedy I expect (the least attractive and talented member of Girls Aloud, just in case you'd never heard of her). And yet the media loves her for it. That tells you more about them than it does about Lily Allen.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
ZZ blows his top!
Ok, so I'm probably a few days out of date, a few months actually when you consider that I was about to write something about the world cup, PRIOR to the event. (That's the F.I.F.A World cup btw for you people from the US. You know, an event that is actually international unlike your screwball world series).Anyway...I found it interesting, and I was a party to this, that after Zidane, leathered Materazzi in the final, there was much speculation amongst the fans and those in the media pertaining to what was actually said to make him go off like a raging bull. At the time I felt that it had to be a comment about his mother, you know, something along the lines, 'I fucked your mudder!' All kinds of theories from so called lip-reading experts came out, ranging from terrorist, racists jibes, to the sentiments I've just outlined. And since we don't really know what was exchanged, that we may never know (even Zidane hasn't gone into detail) I have a few suggestions.
Example 1.
MM. What ya doing tonight gayboy? (tweaks Z's nipples)
ZZ. After I lift ze world cup and get peessed, I might download a new browser.
MM. Fuck your browser, and your siwster too.
ZZ. You'll be sorry you ever zaid that.
MM. Fock youuuu
ZZ launches MM.
Example 2.
MM. I came when I saw your movie at the Cannes film festival.
ZZ. You won't ze the last.
MM. You lookalika crazy frog, no?
ZZ. I sheet on you.
MM. Eat Georga Bush's cream pie, eh?
ZZ fells MM.
Example 3
MM. You are a no good son of a Roberta Willams...a piece of Lily Allen scum, no?
ZZ kills MM
(Oh for fucks sake, you get the point. They're placeholders OK? Until I think of something funnier.)
All in all not a great world cup but not a bad one either. That final more than makes up for an entertaining tournament not seen since 1998, and as for those self-righteous pricks out their, puffing out their chests, and saying what a disgraceful end to a career, what a load of bollocks. It was a fantastic way to top an undiminshed career. Ask Maradonna...however he was far more contraversial...and in my opinion, a lesser player than Zidane (good as he was).
As for C. Ronaldo his career might as well be over, the diving ponce. He looks like he's just started puberty, in fact if you look at his album in the Paninni official world cup sticker album, the evidence is there.
But I guess it doesn't matter what I say as none of you fuckers, according to my hit count can be bothered to visit. Well fuck you. No really! Fuck you.
Same time next week.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Eurovision Tragedy
It's a scandal in the first place that Bodies Without Organs (BWO) won't be representing Sweden this year, as they would have probably won it hands down with their song, Temple of Love. But, but, that's only half the point. They get along fine without Eurovision, as they are a fantastic pop band which England while naturally bypass in our ever ending quest to snap up boring and outdated guitar/piano pop. Instead Temple of Love will be replaced by a pompus and self-righteous piece of shitty trash, called 'Invicible' by the once shaggable Carola, hoping to gain the christian, homophobic vote. (Apparently she believes that homosexuality is one of those sins that can be cured by prayer). Ignore her. Go and buy Bodies Without Organs first album which is much better than their second album, and download the tracks 'Temple of Love' and 'Obsession' from their second album. Here's a vid of them for now.Never mind that for now. If you have been, like me, a lazy bastard for the past couple of months, or like me, writing a new play (By the way, I'm not fucking Jonathan Harvey. I'm realistic, you couldn't even make that thing up!) then you might not realise that the festive season of Eurovision is almost among us, with the semi-final tonight and the final on Saturday. And who is this year's hopeful for the UK. Noneother than Daz Samson (I'm not even sure if I've spelt his name right or even care) who I can't even bring to put a photo of, not that it worries me that he's fairly average and geeky looking, or that it concerns me as much as the utter shiteness of the song. Yeah, I know. It's Eurvision, expect shite songs and crap performances, but just once a couple of pop songs to shine through. But Daz's gimmick is, ooh, let's see, schoolgirls. It's a streetwise kind of song about growing up, looking back and being young. Of course it's bullshit and Eurovision is even too good for it. And worse the basic chorus and the schoolgirl choir sound like little Miss Innocent Sluts with a high processed voice which far from being a bit sexy and naughty, makes them seem like they have been threatened by a madman with hammers, you know, two hammers, one in each hand, running around classrooms, saying, 'Kids, kids!' I hope it comes last. It's what the UK would supposedly prefer, the underdog coming last, and being abused all the way through up to that point.
No doubt queens up and down the country will be hosting and attending eurovision parties, marking their scorecards, squealing and clapping in delight or mock horror that Greece gives Turkey 12 points, and that Daz Samson slips and somehow manages to kill Natasha Kaplinsky.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Your Loss (Supertime)
Well, well, well. Time has passed. Time's change. It's been a little while, and I've not been very busy. No-one cares, the knives are out, their minds are closed for business, and so I plow on with this little pointless quest to bring truth and justice to our pissed world. And what a world it is. There's money everywhere but none of it in our pockets. You've got to take the deal when you can, to become a quizmaniacal Euro millionaire. At the right time. You've got to shaft and backstab someone in a lift, to get to the top. And what's it like at the top? It's full of pathetic miserable bastards crawling, creeping, practically, squirming in the mud, clawing bodies out of the way. Enough about my day at Cafe Nero...
Here's a short guide on how to write an episode of Smallville.
1. Jonathan Kent's dead. All you had to do when writing for him is to make sure he's fixing something at the farm, like a tractor, and stubbornly forbidding Clark to show off his powers. From the right angle as well he looks like John Shuttleworth.
2. Clark and Lex's relationship still needs to maintain that homoerotiscim, which in my view, is what makes the show work and is stronger than many of its US teen counterparts. So, make sure there's a scene in which, at least, Clark storms into baldies mansion, and demands some kind of explanation about anything. Then follow it with undertones of tension and not too subtle polemics about the nature of truth and friendship. Always end the scene with Lex looking off reflectively. Activities for Lex, usually playing pool, drinking blue bottled water, or pouring himself some bourbon or brandy, while looking longingly at Clark. Of course WB will deny it because that's the kind of folks they are.
3. Always make sure you try and include a piece of music, to play under the scene, which, when edited will be timed to climax, with a big overhead camera angle. You must always include something that's considered cool in the US, and is often English. Something like Depeche Mode or Coldplay normally suffices. But they have been know to play James Cunt. It really is that shallow.
4. Chloe must always be at her laptop and be able to hack into ANYWHERE on a whim. She's Clark's personal search engine. Make sure you always write her suitable dialogue which will give Allison Mack enough room, to look longingly at Clark, knowing what never could have been. Again, lots of unrequited love and deep bitterness, are always guaranteed to get big laughs. I didn't know she was German. That's got to be good. I bet her character would do ANYTHING for a good story.
5. Any episode normally follows plot wise like this. Some kid is infected with special powers that they got for Kryptonite. They are usually outsiders=evil. They normally kill, and take Lana hostage. Clark usually has to dispatch them. But you can actually deviate and just write somethign where that Kreuk whore is being self-obsessed and tedious, and, ordinary. Honestly, she's a ten year old girl in the body of a 16 year old going on 50. I cannot understand why anyone who isn't 10 years old, American, white, middle class would gave a flying meteor of shit about her. Let alone the actress. So you could kill her off. That would be my advice. After gang rape maybe. That's your lookout though. Remember kids. It's just for fun. Do not attemtp these ideas in real life.
6. Lionel usually does anything to annoy his son. He could just sit behind him for a whole scene and just stroke his chin. That would be enough.
7. Rip some/all of the plots off from Superman II
But nevertheless, formulaic, and naff as it sometimes is, Smallville has me fucking hooked. It's a little less predictable in the recent seasons, and although know how it well end, it's worth it to watch the performance of Michael Rosenbaum, and particularly his dynamics with Tom Welling. Generally it's an effective entertainment. Of course, Lana is a rubbish character, and I have no sympathy for her or her relationship with Clark. It's only a shame her horrific death was nothing more than fantasy.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
No Resolution
Forgive the delay. I was going to write a piece about how I wasn't going to be making any new years resolutions as they were pointless. I was going to deride those who follow a pathetic detox programme as new age tossers who just put themselves through a silly routine to be fashionable. If I was going to make any resolutions then I was going to make a few on the behalf of coloumists such as Deborah Orr and Ross, and Zoe Williams and all the others who write articles from the so called 'Everyman' perspective (as if this is a justification) in the belief that we care about their trivial lives and opinion. I suppose I may figure partially in this but I will try and spare you my dull life. I would have resolved for them to quit their coloums.
Another resolution I would have made on the behalf of Sharon Osbourne would be for her to pose the question- 'Has the viewing public had enough of my shit hairstyle, my faux anti-establishment attitude,blunt razor wit and chicken fart voice?'
While we're at it, I would have resolved to be one of the first to start the David Cameron backlash, in the name of the fact that most politicians are hypocritical cunt ulcers. The rimming from the media must stop. I can see many followers being embarassed.
Another resolution I would have made on the behalf of Sharon Osbourne would be for her to pose the question- 'Has the viewing public had enough of my shit hairstyle, my faux anti-establishment attitude,blunt razor wit and chicken fart voice?'
While we're at it, I would have resolved to be one of the first to start the David Cameron backlash, in the name of the fact that most politicians are hypocritical cunt ulcers. The rimming from the media must stop. I can see many followers being embarassed.
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