Best Before: December 39th 2005

Best Before End

2011-01-09T20:20:00.001Z

This website was for those who were bored, angered, aroused, disengaged, disturbed, tormented and baffled by popualr culture and new media and society. It's for those who are sick of wiping the digital, verbal, visual, audio vomit off our faces almost everyday from the bullshit that is spoon fed our way. This blog was conceived way, way before Charlie Brooker pretended to be angry for a living, before I committed anything to a blogging template, and no doubt will still be funnier than the ridiculous, imaginative 10 O' Clock Show he has become part of. His new hairstyle alone would be enough to inspire a headbutt.

But alas even though the blog's now over, all the shit talking, the crap things we have to endure in the name of life and entertainment will unfortunately continue. Everything will be dumbed down to the point where the silence will be deafining. I want to say it's been fun and a pleasure to write this shit but it hasn't really. It's been more like a public service, which rather than serving the public, is akin to screaming, tearfully, bitterly into the wind. If you're happening on this for the first time and you like the idea of it, and maybe have not the faintest idea why I'm talking so much shit, then refer to previous blog posts. Here's a few lowlights, and they are lowlights. There are better examples in the blog, and some genuinely riveting moments of good writing inside the insane waffling.

Dark Comedy
'Nighty Night really is a pile of shit, dressed up as 'ooh, look, clever dark comedy' , and why didn't no-one give a shit about Lucas and Walliams when they were funnier in Pie and Mash? Don't talk to me about comedy. My whole fucking life is a comedy.'

Hilary Duff

'...christ oh christ wept buckets, why did this airhead really feel that anyone would find her pathetic Paris Hilton act complete with pooch fashion accessory anything less than stomach-churningly dull or duff? Please call the RSPCA. Someone needs putting down fast. '

Christmas 'office' parties bullshit.
'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...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.'

Sensationsalist TV shows and Mini motorbikes

* 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

'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...'

Neighbours
An ex-neighbour, or rather some toothless harpy, who sort of moevd in with my dishevelled neighbour called Sean.
'My neighbour's laugh...HER laugh really is the ugliest sound in the world. It inspires murderous thoughts.'

Hype
'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.'

That Sudanese Bear thing
'200.000 teachers marched across Europe yesterday to demand that Sudan be given 80 lashes after it emerged that President Omar Hasan Ahmad al-Bashir named his teapot 'Jesus Blood'.'

On shit comics.
'Katy Brand was recovering last night after discovering that her pamphlet of carefully fashioned catchphrases went missing in Whetherspoons. Brand, no relation to archaic Russell, who still has to shoot to fame for her hilarious portrayal of Kate Winslett in her BBC 3 comedy, 'Katy's Fat Anus' as a 'normal' person ad nauseum, long after we've got the joke, is said to be in a state of shock.'

Manesfesto
'I want a Britain where the term 'aspiration' should no longer go hand in hand with rewarding stupidity, presenting emaciated models as being an acceptable size, owning child killing SUV's as an acceptable mode of transport which best defines your upwardly mobile status, no longer compete with other mediorce people to attain mediorce aspirations, fame and celebrity, absurd hairstyles, saying the word 'Carbon footprints' or emissions because you think it makes you look great...I demand a Britain that fully realises and understands that Peter Kay is not the comic genius you think he is but a substandard, substitute for the end of the pier acid porridge that spews from the mouth of Roy 'Chubby' Brown.'

Channel 4
'What is particularly hateful about hiring Gok Wan and according to Channel 4 the 'cool and collected' Miss Nicky Hambleton-Jones (who by the way looks at least in her late 40s. Maybe she's actually 58. Result!) is that some sadistic fuckers have looked at these new media reprobates, their lack of style and thought, 'Cool. Let's give them a series!'

Dr Tanya Byron
'I can't quite put my finger on what it is I hate about Dr Tanya Byron.'

Shit music magazines.
'Wouldn't it be great if the NME folded?'

Sean Kingston
'I'd hate to have him babysitting my niece. Just look at his face when he ogles the girls in his music videos. It's evil.'

On Ed Balls
'...with Balls...I don't know. Something cuts deeper. I've always found that man deeply, deeply unpleasant. It's not that he would look like a Nazi if his terrible hairstyle was shaved off, it's not the disdainful way he comes across in interviews when he's losing, always losing the arguments. Unlike most New Labour MP's, who shrug off questions with irrelevant and patronising statistics and untruths, Balls has that twinkle of murder in his eyes as he tries to maintain his dignity. I don't like it. I wouldn't be surprised if it was discovered that he'd beaten up women or bullied old people.'

Crap columists
'I've always found Melanie Philips (pictured) for any number of reasons a bit of a bore. Haven't you? Why not tell her? http://www.spectator.co.uk/melaniephillips/ '

'Meh' artists like Martin Creed
'It's OK to evolve, Martin! Try it someday. He should do a video installation, a self-portrait called Being Repeatedly Punched In The Face. '

Jennifer Love -Hewitt
'Having had the misfortune to see 'The Ghost Whisperer' which we know is addictively shit, it appears that Jennifer Love-Hewitt is apparently relaunching her country and western music career. WHAT CAREER?'

A TV writer that used to be funny.
'Fuck off, Richard Curtis, you boring old bastard. And you look like the Spitting Image puppet of Barry Norman.'

A scary, scary person.
'Timbaland must immediately stop appearing in videos. What's with his eyes? His he blind or something...'

Scary teens.
'Imagine the film 'Terminator 3-Rise of the Machines' and substitute it for chavs. It’s a terrible vision of the future isn’t it?'

Shit coloumists part 2
'Jan Moir has died of dubious causes. Apparently a knife wound to her jugular. A bottle of Amyl Nitrate was discovered lodged up her fat arse. Hmm...I find nothing suspicious about this death knowing how many people she pissed off with her poor prose about gay popstars.'

Peter Kay
'When he dies I doubt Bolton would get over it. They'd erect a big fuck off scary statue that will scare the sensitive souls and re-release 'Armarillo' as a kind of demented 'Candle in The Wind.' '

James Cordon
'Don't insult our intelligence Corden. But because like Kay, he's in your face like vomit and spittle from an unpleasant patient in a care home, and he's cuddly, he's some kind of genius. Right.'

Bad incidental music mixes on terrible kids TV shows.
'What's the point of Murray Gold? Oh, he writes the incidental music for Doctor Who and The Sarah Jane Adventures! Right. So what's the point of incidental music? Well it's kind of music that plays underneath a scene, sets the tone, adds atmosphere, etc. Although incidental music works better when it's unobstrusive. However in Gold's hands unobtrusive is the equivalent of a kid smearing your face with baby food, and laughing. It's as unobtrusive as a Guardian columist's personal life.'

Yeah, you get the point.

Best Before End : Cutting Corners

2011-01-05T20:41:00.001Z

So, you folks feeling the pinch? What, you mean you haven't been queuing at petrol stations, panic buying, because of the VAT rise? Are you insane? Oh I see, there were no big queues at Shell Garages but there was at the supermarkets, because the berks all thought it was cheaper per litre when they weren't? Beat the VAT cuts? How does one really do that? Did you spend everything you're likely to spend in one year in one day? No? Right.

I had the ill-luck to see this daft cow (no not that daft cow pictured) on The Tonight Show, a special called 'Christmas or Bust'. This daft bitch, Kate, was kind of moaning about only having £2,000 to spend this christmas, since she was tightening her belt. £2,000?!? How big is her family. In all seriousness it's actually obscene. This programme was probably watched by families that can barley scrape £150 for presents and food at the best of times.

J Har...Hartley! Brewer

Yeah, I know, I shouldn't let her get to me. We know she's more famous for having a cleveage than the bullshit she spouts, and the harpie wants to justify her services as an after dinner speaker for over 1K. What recently got on my nerves was this really lazy item on The One Show, harping on about cuts, and how they are coming and how they would hurt blah blah, particularly, oh so obviously, the hard working, tax paying, god fearing, right thinking, middles classes. Oh won't someone please think of the middle classes! Fuck me she and her lot are shit. Above this, and like the shit with The Tonight Show, what was the point? Is it meant to stir us from the collective zombiedom of Sky TV and Domino's pizza, to take to the streets? Is it supposed to make us go 'humph!' and throw our fist down on the side of the armchair? What is the point teling us something we kind of already know and knew? Cunts.

THE TEA PARTY

'How curious...how does one 'tea bag' Sarah Palin?'

BARONESS WASARMI

She doesn't like gays much.

Is it just me who thinks that she's full of shit? You kind of feel that she's letting her sex down.

Best Before End: Thank You For The Music

2010-12-30T18:53:00.001Z

According to Pop Justice the best album of 2010 is...(drum roll/rolls eyes) Happiness by HURTS. Pop Justice are of course entitled to like what they like and to have an opinion about it. Here's mine. It's really not very good. Wonderful Life is ace, Better Than Love is ace but the rest of the album is two guys posturing as if they are Tears for Fears/Black/Blanmange/Lotus Eaters/ insert name of generic 80s band here. The tracks sound like they've been put through the Guy Chambers cliche blender. It's not a good album, and any comparisons to Pet Shop Boys are particularly daft. Pet Shop Boys make better music, Pet Shop Boys are more original, Pet Shop Boys are Better Than Hurts.

But if PJ wants to champion this, along with many misfires it has in the past, and write about the damp squibs and X Factor with any kind of passion and continnual irrelevance than that is really up to them. It is, I suppose, a harmless, curious website which could have something going for it, if for the life of itself, it knew what it really wanted to be. At the moment it seems to thrive off pretending to really, honestly, really like cheap pop music, especially the pop music that seems to be fiddled into the ear lobes of the great unwashed via the medium of ITV. This is wrong. Not because there is anything wrong about music of all types but because, well, at a time when there is genuinely more exciting pop music around like Grum, Aeroplane and Cut Copy, to name three, PJ forever feels that the burning discvoveries or pointless inanities we, the reader, really, really have to know about, because it's so amazing is/are: The Saturdays, JLS, Mini Vida, X Factor, Scouting For Girls, Girls Can't Catch (remember them?) X Factor, Alesha Dixon, and oh yeah, X Factor! Of course PJ mentions Gaga, Kylie and even Pet Shop Boys every so often to show that they are normal like everyone else. But they prefer their pop stars to be wank, have no stage presence, be totally ordinary, or pointlessly overblown and to make shit music that doesn't set a matchstick alight, let alone the charts or people's imaginations. Because ooh, that's what you don't expect! Music journalism it ain't.

BEADY EYE

The name of this band is like a pisstake. It's what me and a pal would have come up with to extend the career of a fictional rock star who has lost his mind and ability to make music. Funnily enough the NME don't get this. They believe that there is obviously enough interest in post-Oasis activity to justify pointless hype about the ex-members of the tribute to Status Quo. I guess this is just one of a million examples of why NME has been shit since 1994. So, does Liam's new band push the boat out? Will we get an album or even at least twenty seconds of something that gives the impression that Liam has matured, has progressed, wants to experiment, wants to rip up the rule book and redefine, nay, reform his musical ways, that once defined the conservative, bland pop of the 90s? Will he? Does he? On balance, so far, does he fuck? Same old same old. It's like there was no music created after 1966. Let's have a look at the album cover. Perhaps we'll get something modern, that will piss on the idea of Liam and his pals being some old retro, pub rock band...

Right, remember what I was saying at the start of this article, 'bout me and my pal making up fictional bands? This is what a fictional album cover would look like. I'll give Beady Eye their dues. They are good for a laugh.

BIFFY CLYRO

I don't get it.

Best Before End Part: The Future of Television

2010-12-21T14:19:00.001Z

Cunts.

We're already fucked. This is a photograph of the 'cast' from ITV 2's high end 'soap' The Only Way Is Essex. I had the misfortune to catch this while endlessly channel hopping, because when you have Virgin Media's 'Medium' package or Freeview, that's essentially what counts for an evenings viewing. For a few minutes I wondered if this was a parody. This idea alone is bad enough. Then I made the link, the truth dawned on me. 'Hang on, this is ITV 2! Of course it isn't a parody.' Yes, readers, these living and breathing Ken and Barbie's are real! Somehow they have money and mobility to be as tacky and as vile as they like and because they are so mind-crushingly stupid, they can't see it, let alone care about it. With phrases and constant banalities like 'Ohmigod.', 'No!', 'Shut up!', they're like a bad Catherine Tate sketch. And they are vile. Take Mark Wright. I don't deny he's good looking and has lots of cash. This doesn't worry me. If he approves of the air-headed orange faced bimbos who hang around him like the smell of unshowered spunk, that's his look out. But he's a cunt. Or it could be the editing to make him out to be a cunt. If he had a brain he'd have some form of empathy. But he wears his ignorance and cunty attitude towards the female members of the cast with that kind of pointless pride that might have been in fashion in Hornblower's time.

That's one of the problems though. These people are dangerous because of the bubble of ignorance and fantasy they live inside. Kind of like typical viewers of ITV 2. You could suggest that it's all harmless fun, like most 'soaps' or 'reality' shows, or punching a tramp in the face for so long that it makes your fist sore. But if only they were harmless. More than anything NOTHING happens. The characters and the events are so boring. It's not aspirational or inspirational. It's BORING! More than that, hateful. This is what those who complain about this show ruining the image of Essex should be getting riled about. But as ever, this will get pushed onto us at the expense of genuine new talent, such is ITV's quest to be the Heat magazine version of broadcast media. In the media universe the stupid reign supreme. Long live the stupid.

MORGANA SHOW


She can do Fearne, you see?

This came in from a meeting at Channel 4. Idea for a comedy show. Take a wacky, wacky personality kind of like French and Saunders or Catherine Tate and Katy Brand, you know really amusing women who are so talented they don't resort to lazy, stereotyped characters, cliches and basic catchphrase comedy, and let's create a new show that attacks and satirises really, really hard targets, so that everyone will take a long hard long at the world and be ashamed of themselves. Especially Fearne Cotton. Fuck it, just commission something as awful as those examples with all the worst, overdone aspects. Channel 4 viewers are finally daft enough to put up with the crap we throw at them.

So Morgana. She can do Fearne Cotton you know. According to some on twitter, an impersonation of Fearne just being over enthuisastic is the stuff of legends. It's more iconic and funny than DEL BOY FALLING THROUGH A BAR. Because you see, Fearne Cotton is a bit enthusastic. Get it? So it's funny. And the fact that it's like this every episode, with Fearne being overly enthusiastic is bound to be funny because it'll knock Fearne Cotton down a peg or to, because Fearne Cotton is an over enthusiastic bitch.And she's a mate and can't stop going on about it and playing the clips on her show, so amused as she is by someone impersonating her. As we've learnt from Little Britain it's highly, highly amusing to repeat the same basic gag every week, because it makes it funnier and it'll be funnier still when channels devoted to old television programmes repeat the repeated basic gags over and over and over again till the end of time.

But Morgana is actually very clever at creating complex characters, She can do a poor Boris Johnson. Not purposely odd like Reeves and Mortimer portray people but just poor. She can do jokes about people with mental illness. Mental illness is funny without any context isn't it? Don't listen to me Morgana, just let all your mates in Yes Yes Land endow you with faint praise. Fucking wank.

Frankie, minus hair and glasses.

FRANKIE BOYLE

'He looks like a sex criminal.' That's what should be quoted on the back of his book because for all it's logic that's the kind of observation he'd find blisteringly humourous. In a way this lack of logic and randomness to Frankie Boyle's stand up and his terrible show Tramadol Nights is characteristic. You would have thought that if there was something beyond making fun of disabled people, gay people, black people and all the obvious targets for offense he might be onto something. It doesn't challenge anything though. Not even the bounds of taste or taboos. Or audience response to them. Maybe it wouldn't have to if it was funny, which is essentially the only remit of comedy, but there also lies the problem. 'Mock The Week' isn't funny. You can see the desperation and forced laughter on the hosts face. You can hear it in the audience. Not a great breeding ground for comedy. Russell Howard's boss eye makes him vaguley amusing (see what I did there Frankie) and that, bloody useless, whatsherface, Ganeesh Yashmer(?) are hardly inspiring. Boyle's interludes when he wasn't crowd pleasing could be amusing. However he seems to have found his level and will milk it for all its worth, inspiring dozens of pissed up plebs who watch his show to laugh at the unfortunate just because its funny. It's the kind of comedy that comes from a a ginger haired kid with specs who was bullied at school. Very sad. To think that Channel Four had Chris Morris for a while. Tsk.

Best Before End: Human Wrongs

2010-12-17T19:28:00.002Z

'Bitch'

Her name's Ruby Thomas. This is what she looks like. She might be balding a bit but she has that French look of an enfant terrible, a child actress. She stamped on a mans chest and kicked him to death because, well it doesn't matter, there is no justification. For a laugh probably. According to some reports her looney dad did time for stabbing a taxi driver 28 times. Vegetable mentality.

'Enjoys golden showers'

This is her homophobic mate, Rachael Burke. In a different life she could work in a bakers, a rough one probably. She got a clip round the ear and told not to stamp on gay men again. Perhaps she'll pee on them for a living. She really looks the type. I post these pics because of course I wouldn't want you to terrorise them for all their living days or make their lives hell. We wouldn't want that. And the third stooge is,

'Another childish caption'

This muppet is Joel Alexander. It's probably the way the picture's been captured but fuck what has this gormless tosser got going for him? Now I haven't been to the court or to the interviews or was there so I don't know exactly what happened in detail, such as who said what, who started what? None of that matters because Ian Baynham was killed for no reason. You get that? No reason. He didn't rape the girls, bugger them in front of their mothers. He didn't threaten to burn their houses or piss on their cigs. The fact that he was gay is NOT a reason, the fact that he wouldn't stand for their lip is not a reason, that they were thick cunts, the idea that he might have been pimping them, the fact that the girls might have been pissed up is not an excuse. How long can we go on looking for reasons? These people were responsible. Simple. What is just, if not more hateful, is that through fear, no-one obviously came to the poor bloke's aid.

Let's not look for excuses or try and find ways to understand it. You can't. People unfortunately are cunts, no matter how they get there. You don't need me to tell you what the broad term of 'human rights' mean to most people, and how its being abused at every level everywhere. You would think that in a relatively civillised, western country we understand human rights. We want to protect and look out for each other. Do you? Well you're naive. People are cunts. It's in our nature and even that is not an excuse. But we should know better. You know in less developed socities women and gay people get stoned to death or hanged for fuck all. If these places got their priorities right we'd be bricking these three fucking cunts to death instead. This is not an issue about 'broken britain' bollocks. Britain and the world was never right to begin with. Depressing, These hate filled, shit faced wankers have no human right to take away Ian Baynham's rights. None.

Right, depressingly here's my next picture.

Can't drive.

This arsehole is Aso Mohammed Ibrahim. He killed a 12 year old girl, Amy Houston. Believe it or not, this alone is not the issue that's causing controversy. It's the fact that as an asylum seeker he won't be deported and the courts recently said he shouldn't be deported. Now I'm not arsed about asylum seekers. Doesn't concern me. What I'm pissed about and rightly so is the idea that because this wanker, who can't even drive, now has a family, to send him back to Iraq would be a breach of his human rights and those of his wife and children. Hm. You wonder if the most humane thing to do for his family would be to lock him in a shed in Siberia and beat it with planks. Or mowing into the cunt with a 4X4. You're talking about a spinless, arsehole who left a girl to die, when she could have easily been saved. Maybe he'll understand if one of his mates mow his kids down. I wonder what it is about some international drivers though. Especially Audi drivers. It's not diffuclt to drive, it's easy to drive fast, it's not hard being aggressive. Why are some international drivers so shite at driving? Do they not have to read signs, or follow the rules of the road in their own country? Have they heard of theory? Or do their mates at driving school just pass them for the sake of it? Christ I sound like Clarkson!

I don't want to be prejuidiced for prejuidices sake but this kind of thing, like the crime above, the lack of regard, the arrogance just makes me want to chuck a nuke at him. It goes back to the Human Rights thing again. What Human Rights? While there'll be victims they and their families will be the ones to lose out. Fuck Ibrahim. He lost his rights when he cowardly, because that's how he acted, when the dumb ass, left a girl for dead. Hopefully one day he'll understand the hard way when he finds himself in a sticky situation. It seems that his case is being looked at and he could be deported. With any luck he'll be back in Iraq. I'm sure he'll have a whale of a time. Wanker.

Endgame

2010-12-16T18:21:00.001Z

It's probably obvious to you now that the things that have baffled, aroused and angered me will continue to do so for many, many decades. It's something I can't change, nor would I want to. I can't stop people from being stupid motherfuckers though, no matter how much I try and will it.

Over the past five years I have irregularly written and railed against many things, often trivial. Perhaps I should have (and maybe I will at some stage) write about the things that really matter and are worth being angry about, you know, war crimes, intolerance, injustice, attack on liberties and human rights. None of it will make any difference but it will make me slightly calmer.

I suppose it's with this in mind, and not a heavy heart that my final post will soon be upon you. I plan to end with a four part special. After that this blog will remain untill deleted by the higher power that is Google, for you to read and rail against. I might compile a book version of some stage. I know almost certainly that there is zero interest let alone zero demand but I'm vain enough to publish a copy for myself anyway, be good to read in waiting rooms. So what will follow in four parts will be Best Before End.

Rebecca Frayn: Talking Shit

2010-09-12T14:39:00.000+01:00

I sat down in Sainsbury's yesterday and picked up a copy of The Times. There was some weekend feature about, (sigh) someone I previously hadn't heard of, although I could guess from her surname that she might share something in common with the writer of Copenhagen. It was Rebecca Frayn. Believe it or not it was an irony free, me me me piece about her twins. Hm, not bad publicity for her new 'novel' and her twins, who I'm sure at some stage will use the coat tails of her and the writer of Copenhagen to get on. But she cares. Do you see? She cares about issues like kids and the environment!

As ever this isn't the main reason for my rage. What occurred to me was, at what level, at what level will this piece appeal to anyone? People with grown up twins? Mothers? Do parents give a shit about other kids? Do parents really give two fucks about how better off other people's kids are? Wouldn't The Times do well to actually print something for the weekend that has more depth? By god we have to care about the trivial plight of others because human beings have a need to talk shit as well as listen to it.

It's why I hate Catalin Moran. I've never read anything by her that spends more time on any given subject that the subject of Catalin Moran. I don't find her cute and inquisitive. She will always be that overweight student who wondered into a studio where they were filming that fucked up excuse for a music programme, 'Naked City'.

None of these people, these columists and me-ist's will ever be as interesting and entertaining as John Peel's digressions were. You just won't. Just promote what you need to promote, write what you're supposed to write about and shut the motherfuck up about you're tiny, cute, banal self-important hang ups. No-one gives a shit.

War on Neighbours?

2010-09-06T15:41:00.000+01:00

I'll never understand certain mentalities. Maybe I'm not meant to. I don't even know if I should. If you haven't already guessed it by now from reading this blog, then I'll spell it out once more. Most people disappoint me. If it's not their motivations that get me down, it's their behaviour to others and even the lack of respect they have for themselves. Morrissey's own hatred of the human race is motivated in part by his own background but also how humanity can be measured in its treatment of animals. Although his frustrations aren't always politcally correct. Heaven knows what he'd make of the by now infamous youtube footage of some Bosnian teenage hick hurling puppies into a river. And obviously this doesn't detract from how awful people have been to each other for generations.

Now I'd like to think that I'm relatively tolerant and friendly. I'm considerate and generous. I don't oppress people. Like anyone else I just want to get on in life without as much fuss as possible but even I am prone at times to being pissed off and grumpy.

It only dawned on me recently when I was thinking about Orwell's quote 'If you want a vision of the future imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever.' It's encapsulated in everything, war, religion, laughing at the mentally ill on national television in the form of relaity/talent shows, shopper rage, road rage, and keeping up with the neighbours. I'm going to probably add to this with my own slighting of my neighbours which, I understand, far from not being very considerate, doesn't aid my understanding of people's mentalities any further.

Like most of you I want a peaceful life, an easy life, a life where privacy is respected and people are friendly. In some places in the world this would be utopia. But we're always divided, be it race, class, religion, sexuality and age. We're afraid. I understand why peope act like twats, I do. I also understand why, for example, you feel compelled to attack those terrible subhumans next door with a lawnmower, and bury the bits of meat and shit in custard mix, and throw it in a cement mixer. I've been there. I'm still there. If I had the time, resources and desire, I'd like to take a look at the brain cells that help make up these mentalities just to see what motivates them and why it motivates them. In my time I've had post stolen by someone who was done for armed robbery, I've lived above a couple of chavs who never slept and played twatcore at all hours, and didn't seem to respond to polite reminders that they were too loud, and now there's what I can only describe as savages next door. Well, they aren't savages, more like overgrown toddlers to be fair with savage like tendacies. I realise that they haven't lived in a good environment all their lives and the background has been spent living with drugs, violence and crime. But so have others. So even though I can understand it, I don't accept it as a plausible excuse. People have it far worse and they're not complete shitheads. I also understand that people are often motivated by jealousy, spite, personal gain and stupidity. This doesn't make their and others twatty behaviour acceptable.

I'm just not interested, (annoyed at first but now bored) of seeing and hearing the obese overgrown Rick Waller in drag, dragging her flesh in the front yard cluttered with toys, her kiddy pyjamas barely covering her blotchy, pale, lumpy flesh. (What is it about council estates and wondering about all hours of the day, even to the shops in pyjamas? ) I doubt anyone else is too. I don't feel that there's anything to gain or an example to set the kids with her screaming all kids of obscenties at her kids in the most racous, inflated voice possible. Maybe there's solace with her other half, a typical whippet like jal bird? (It's marginally like living on the set of Shameless, I know. But the house was cheap) Why does it have to be so fucking predictable though? Why can't I be wrong? Snobbery would be justified though. For my part I'm barely encountered or considered. I'm sure I'm viewed upon as an outsider, a snob or a different species. Honestly, I swear you are sometimes stared at in the same way that civilised western visitors are by distant tribes in distant lands. It's like looking at zombies trying to make sense of the iPhone. And I know I'm prejuidiced, having grown up in a similar enviornment I spent so long trying to escape. But nothing changes. People are the same, and they're, as I'm sure have said before, they're devolving to a level where you feel that sterialisation has to be a realistic, almost a mercy option. But in this area, kids are a commodity, even a status symbol. Prison is an honour for them. The cycle will continue. Oxygen wasted.

I hate these people. Everything they stand for. I resent the time and space they occupy, their impact on crime, education, culture and socirty. I hate the way they look, they way they talk and smell. They are no use to anyone, even themselves. While I won't dismiss every one of them, there's really no point trying to be all right on and liberal. It's easy being liberal when you live in a safer environment with your peers, where you never have to come into contact with these morons. That's piss easy. I can do that. At the same time I wouldn't ever take the side of the right wing rags who are just as cuntish, again living in their glass houses of orgies and killing animals, whilst going on an on about immigration, single mothers, when they have no personal experience. In fact all of my issues have always been with stupid white people who we time and time again have to make allowances for, have to clear up after, have to understand and accept their stupidity. So far councils and governments have failed and police do fuck all. Fuck, it's like these people have super powers. They can do what the fuck they want and they know their rights. They don't have to work. They are entitled to training, hand outs and homes and can fuck up as many times as they want and no-one gives a shit. I'm not sure if Britain is broken but if it is, it was shattered a long time ago.

But stupidy is underated. It doesn't come with obligation, skills, common sense, respect or harmony. Stupid people rarely get stressed or have any problems. They may waste our resources and clog the a&e with self-inflicted injuries, they may cause contraversy by having stupid opinions about Raul Moat published on Facebook but they'll survive. They know all about self-preservation and that's to keep having kids. They either don't realise or don't care that they are kept by the government or controlled by the media. It doesn't matter. They will carry on regardless, stressing others, terrorising some and, allowing their lack of social skills and manners to come across as aggressive. They don't have to care because no-one else does.The human race will die out tearing itself apart, one way or another and you can bet that the real underlying cause will be a petty one. As Morrissey says, 'Come, come/nuclear bomb!'

Gold by name (Not by nature unfortunately)

2010-08-21T18:36:00.002+01:00

What's the point of Murray Gold? Oh, he writes the incidental music for Doctor Who and The Sarah Jane Adventures! Right. So what's the point of incidental music? Well it's kind of music that plays underneath a scene, sets the tone, adds atmosphere, etc. Although incidental music works better when it's unobstrusive. However in Gold's hands unobtrusive is the equivalent of a kid smearing your face with baby food,and laughing. It's as unobtrusive as a Guardian columist's personal life. So tell me, anyone, Murray, why does your music actually interfere with the show and trash EVERY scene it appears in? Why is it so necessary that the theme to the Sarah Jane Adventures has to sound like a demented swashbuckling, mysterious, knockabout, kiddie rompothan, when it's a shite show that isn't as anywhere near as imaginative or thrilling as many of its 80s originals? The main problem I have with his music, apart from being distractingly bad, is the way it tries to force some sort of emotional response from a poor script that should be able to do something WITHOUT music!

I'm not against incidental music, far from it, Vangelis and the editors got it right in Blade Runner, certainly in Chariots of Fire. So why can't BBC get it right? Why can't Murray get it right? I'm sure he has many fans and hardly gets complaints which will vindicate him and stave off any attemtps to push any boundaries, not he's found his happy medium. But for chrisssake BBC get some innovative composers who aren't mates with the producers. I'm sure the Hartnoll brothers could design the sound for the new series. Can't believe Moffat didn't ditch Gold, during his very minor cull. Don't take my opinion. Make you own mind up.

He's fucking BONKERS!!

2010-07-23T22:23:00.000+01:00

Do you see? Do you fucking see? He's a ledge! He raps and you don't know if he's serious or funny? He's a clever cunt, yeah? Bonkers!!Go fuck yo selfs NWA!

GUILT FEST 2 Review

2010-06-30T17:32:00.001+01:00

On the grounds where they hold the international balloon festival and where that Ben Fogey filmed part of his 'Country Tracks' series saw the monumental Guilt Festival 2. Due to the recession Beagle 2 couldn't afford to book Benny Andersson Band or Johnny Geddes (despite how much Geddes claims he was here).

Among the tens who attended there were rumours and rumblings about what surprise guest was going to crop up on some hasty duet. Sadly, Thomas Yorke, Selina Dion (tribute act to Celline) or German footballing legend Karl-Heinz Rumminige couldn't be arsed.

In their quest to mythologise the festival, everyone upon entering and getting their cheeks stamped were asked by HTV news and Fucked FM what was their Guilt Fest highlight. One punter offered 'when that bloke out of The Dead Zones mended his bike puncture during 'Weed Me a Pleb For Xmas.' So here are the acts who apepared in order of importance due to the success of their street teams.

THE DEAD ZONES
APESHIT
MUSTARD GAS
VERONICA AND THE PISSING MUMMYS
TUBBY QUEENS
ASK ASPEL LIGHTSHOW
BOIL IN THE BAG STUS

Personally with Guilt Fest being the nine thousand and fourteenth trending topic on twitter we are seeing that Guilt Fest is becoming THE festival to be at. So here are my own private highlights.

THE DEAD ZONES

Described by some knobhead I bumped into at a concert by the underated Dulux Gloss as a nod to Jame Murphy, a wink to the Wonderstuff you can enjoy, and a casual grope in a new build house to a scratched Belbury Poly bootlegged remix compilation, the Dead Zones were on form. They kicked our faces in. The uncharasmatic front man, Zack Heiss invaded our senses with a suit made from dish cloth, sunglasses so wide you needed four heads and a voice cherished by years of vomiting petrol. When he introduced 'High Def Adulterer' with 'Let's all big up these South African mother fuckers! Let's bring some shitty sunshine to their crappy, simple, fucked up lives! Ye-ahh! Lol! District niiiine!' and produced a vuvuzela which he hurt his knee trying to snap, I nearly choked on my paper cup of mushy peas. One highlight was The Dead Zones bizarre 'Carter USM' version of Lennon's 'Beautiful Boy'.

Set list

High Def Adulterer
Weed me a Pleb for Xmas
Beautiful Boy (Unstoppable version)
Solvent molestation
Armchair Nazi
Mark. E. Smith doesn't give a fuck about you, I don't give a fuck about him too.
Dizzie Rascal (He's WELL BONKERS, the cunting ledge!)
Shut the fuck up and put another shit record on

MUSTARD GAS

Much as already been written about Mustard Gas. Most of it boring and quite irrelevant. This festival was pre-empted by a contraversial war of words between drummer, Andy N and Stevie V (of Dirty Cash fame). It came to a head when Andy N offered the ultimatum 'The first one of us to die is a horse-freaking muppet on the dole!' This had no effect on the hypnotic and bothersome set of postmodern rock/J-pop/dubstep/hauntology. In fairness it was quite crap. A kind of teen Peter Kay-esque crowd pleasing journey into living suicide. Songs such as 'Michael Moore Has Feelings' and the balaeric sun-kissed 'Self Published Failure' were genuinely indulgent, so much so that Jonathan Ross wept.

Set list

Take the chavs to the chambers
I used to be a boyfriend
Michael Moore Has Feelings
Blow Your Whistle (DJ Duke cover)
The White Album in Five Minutes
I liked the Guardian more when I had some money
Barbie Girl (ironic cover of the Aqua classic)
Self-Published Failure

VERONICA AND THE PISSING MUMMYS
For music writers of the Queitus website, Veronica and the Pissing Mummys represent a kind of Florence and the Machine for non-Dido fans and Zane Lowe loathers. They did fuck all last year untill they infected the charts with their soulful version of the poppy house classic, 'The Only Way Is Up'. Since then, everyone wants to have purple hair, suck lollipops, hold hands, and pretend to be 22 years of age. They want to speak like Sarah Ferguson and be twats. Oh go on. Here's the set list if you must.

Set list

I'm so hapy that I could pee untill I die
The only way is up
Annie Lennox
We're all spirtual (except for Nick Griffin and India Knight)
I don't think...too busy feeling
Cosmos, order me a new heart
Annie Lennox Part 2
The only way is up...again

So that's it. Would have watched them all but I thought I'd have a creep. So what else was going on? There was food as you'd expect. Fairly reasonable I have to say with ice cream vans offering economy burgers at £5.23 and Mr Freeze ice pops a measley £7.50. There was all kinds of shit going down, throwing bricks at Paul Crone, sharing sweat boxes with James Corden and Nick Clegg, or joining the Tubby Queens for an aftershow of baco funk and oral chav homosex. It was all in the spirit of things. Some bloke was asking for a quid to watch the young mothers, and pissed up rich sons having a piss anywhere they could find, once the single cubicle has a queue of about 40 people. And I'll never forget the Silent Disco Culture Beat special which was disappointing.

Come on En-ger-land!

2010-06-14T17:38:00.004+01:00

See this guy in the picture, he's not patriotic, he's a nutter. Albeit a harmless nutter. (Oh it's not there anymore. Oh well. Basically it was an eccentric old guy with his body and house all decked out like a neo nazi) Maybe it's where I live but once upon a time all the things I used to view as a novelty and fairly endearing such as barbecues, laminate flooring and small gatherings of the community to watch the football are quite, quite unbearable. Common. I realise that my hatred and derision partly stem from my general dislike of most people but the fear goes deeper. It's the fear of hysteria spilling over and infecting everything, transforming all our lives, dumbing it down further than it is already. And when it's been adopted by the chavs as well, well their tack becomes our tack.

This commercialisation of world cup fever in part isn't just fuelled by The Sun but the supermarkets. You can get England themed tents, sunglasses, pillow cases, wigs, shirts, boots, cakes, bead, tic-tacs, erm flags, bunting, cigs, burgers, pens, gobstoppers, dogs, pubs, council houses, car kits, tortoises, calculators, and lipstick. I tried looking for French and Italian flags in the suprmarket but they didn't have them. It's not so much the ubiquity of it that worries me but the aggression behind it, the mentality, the force behind 'Come on En-ger-land!', not being a rallying cry but almost a call to arms, with death to those who refuse to join in, or get in their bloody way. It's the threat of the English defence league and the BNP, the fear, oh yes, the fear that woe betide us all if England don't at least win the world cup, as our immigrants and basically anyone will get it.

I do love the world cup. Not as much as I used to. The loss of interest is because of the commercialisation, is because of the sponsorships, the naff world cup themed ads and how it's hi-jacked and allowed everyone on to its bandwagon who may have been indifferent. 1982's finals in Spain which remain a big part of my childhood and my life, being the first one I engaged with and even filled duplicate Panini sticker albums is precious to me. I don't want it's memory tainted. I don't want the world cup to be a game of one upmanship on which house has the most ridiculous England decorations and union jacks. It's one of the reasons I'm losing interest. I blame supermarkets, 1966, Euro 96 and people for it being dumbed down. And I blame James Corden for being effortlessly unfunny for trying to hi-jack his own place in its televisual history, the gobshite, with his really shit programme.

So I'll be pleased if England don't do too well. Not because it'll upset people. I just won't be able to bear the street parties, the forced jollity and the media banging on and on about it, the way they do about 1966, Euro 96, Germans, Argentina, the hand of God and the second world fucking war. Get over it.

Best Before Election 2010: Aftermath

2010-05-14T15:45:00.000+01:00

Well there you had it, you got the government you voted for and possibly deserve. If it's a victory for anyone its for the people over the right wing media who expected a tory shoo in. It wasn't. Everyone struggled for power. The Sun didn't win it. Murdoch's influence slipped. Even Sky's Kay Burley and Adam Boutlon lost the plot when it seemed that their boy may not get the keys to 10 Downing Street.

Kind of says it all.

Normal service will be resumed next time.

BEST BEFORE: Bigoted Woman

2010-05-04T17:28:00.000+01:00

Well, I've been ranting my thoughts about law, order and education and touched on daft party political broadcasts. (By the way, I wonder if those holding Tory or Labour placards in the faces of the opposing party when they arrive at rallies, think about what arseholes they look.)

Suppose I should discuss immigration. This might be difficult because so many insecure British people are paranoid about it. Apparently it's the big issue on the doorstep. The biggest issue on my doorstep is the doormat. But because Mrs Duffy is worried about where all the Eastern European immigrants are 'flocking from' then we must therefore share her views and the views of the British people. But hang on...Gordon was right! Duffy is a bigot, isn't she? OK, she didn't use strong language but she mentioned immigrants as opposed to illegal immigrants. Is she confused or am I the one who's bonkers? If you believe everything you read then the issue of immigration must be the number one concern in people's lives...far more than illness, stress, having no money...unless these issues are the fault of the immigrants as well. Surely if this is the main issue on the doorstep and Duffy's language and suggestion is merely mild, you have to wonder the kind of offensive crap that is coming out of people's crooked, brown, gaped toothed mouths. The concern would also have to be why it is that there are so many seemingly ignorant bigots and racists, pissing out the same, lazy cliched, tired bullshit they've picked up down the pub or at the bus stop, as some kind of excuse for why they feel so shit about their lives. And they feel like victims. I swear, and it's not the first time I heard it, there was some miserable looking bloke in the pub, one weekday afternoon on the news who said to some reporter 'You can't say 'owt these days because you get accused of being a racist.' Hmm, but who would that bother in your world? Your racist mates? Here are some extracts and warning signs that you're hearing bullshit and any further discussion needs to be bypassed.

'They take our jobs'
'Free housing...'
'They're dirty.'
'...spread diseases...'
'They should learn English...'
'I'm not racists but...'
'They shag animals.'
'They're suicide bombers'
'They created the Volcanic ash cloud from that Iceland place...'

Maybe it's progressive of me but in my experience the majority of people with, um, ASBO's for instance happen to be British, mainly white British. Most people claiming or absusing benefits, taking drugs, pissing their lives away and killing each other happen to be white and British. Diseases, as far as I can gather are due to bacteria but a fair few of this bacteria is spread by British people as well. And before banging on and on about how immigrants should learn English (which the majority do) it'd be a great idea if many British people actually knew how to string an English sentence together that isn't full of complete shit. Jobs? Well you can't knock immigrants for wanting to work, often losing benefits. Blame the dodgy British bosses who can't be arsed paying out the minimum wage. So they don't take your jobs. You just don't want to work for less than £400 a week, despite having no experience, having no qualifications or being unwilling to have a go. When I'm in the queue for an interview, I know that I've as much chance as any immigrant, not that I've seen immigrants going for the same job as me. After all they'd have to be pretty sharp at English to get past the application process...but wait a minute, I thought they couldn't speak Engli- Ah, so my job isn't at threat. Hooray!

I'm more concerned about these so called shift, scroat-like white, British people like myself. They are the real danger. Especially if they are stupid, insecure and ignorant. They're the one's committing crimes and making arseholes of themselves. They cut you up on the roads, they piss about on the streets at weekends because they can't go for a night out without becoming momentary pissheads, they beg you for money for the phone, they nick your stuff, they're noisy, they wind up teachers, they wind up old people on the buses, they watch shit TV shows, they knife, abuse and rip you off. They just want to drag everyone else down. Perhaps before having any sort of workable policy on border controls we have to understand and educate these lazy fucks, many who haven't ever been beyond their own district, let alone actually know where Eastern Europe is.

OTHER POLICIES

Was going to write about Health, Foreign policy and Business but I'm sapped out for now. In a nutshell, keep on supporting and investing in NHS, raise wages for Nurses, deduct wages from Trust managers who don't nearly do anything like Nursing staff. Let's get out of Iraq and Afganistan. It would save us money. Perhaps a percentage of what we're spending now could be diverted to reconstruct the places we've bombed into the stoneage. Scrap Nuclear missiles. In the event of a full conflict we'd all be wiped out anyway. It's ludicrous to suggest we need them for defense. We have adequate defence in the daft event that France, Germany or The Netherlands would try and invade us. Think of the money we could save. Considering money and business development, why not recruit Martin Lewis from Money Saving Expert, who can help Britain with its finances. He also hates bankers, hedge fund investors and fat cats as well. Sack Ed Balls.

Best Before: Law and Order

2010-04-26T17:31:00.000+01:00

Well it's been another 'interesting' week if you're into politics or just generally freedom of speech and human rights in general. Firstly there was the second debate in which Clegg just grabbed it for me by a nose or two, then there was one of the Murdoch offsprings and his diabolical partner in crime, Rebakah Wade (I hope I've spelt her name wrong) brow beating the Independent editor because he suggested the ludicrous idea that elections aren't won by newspaper's but, erm...the public. Every right wing rag have been up in arms because a hung parliament would cause some kind of holocoust. Essentially they were shit scared because they might look like dicks when this election is all over. I hope so because they are dicks. Anyway, my policies on Law and Order...

LAW AND ORDER

There doesn't seem to be much, does there? You know, maybe education might be much improved if anti-social behaviour, drug abuse, drug related crime, bad parenting and all the little scroats out there who know you can't touch 'em, actually, really get punished instead of pointless funded intervention programmes that actually spend money taking them canoeing, go karting and mountain climbing. Policing needs to support this, and actually respond to calls and keep them off the streets making arses of themselves and the lives of others a misery. I can understand it though. If I was in the police I'd just chat to my mates and go for a drive instead of arseing about creating more paperwork.

Face it, we've tried the liberal approach, the 'oh, they just need love'. Maybe it's a stretch but have we actually tried punishing them as well as rewarding them? Low level crime seems to be the biggest challenge as far as I'm concerned as is the fear of it. I wouldn't even call it low level anyway because people might fear it more than high level crime. The fear of it, I expect is down to the constant reporting and sensationalism of it. It's quite a complex thing when you thing of it. Kids have to deal with peer pressure, you know, knifing each other to fit in, kicking someone to death because they don't have the capacity to reason, or shooting someone because, well, it's a laugh. There's all kinds of local initiatives which deal with crime prevention, drug abuse and interventing with various programmes to steer kids off the road to crime. Either they're not being funded properly and supported by local councils or the kids don't give a shit. There has to be some responsibility on the parts of the asbo teens. And before people whinge on and on and on about there being fuck all to do, well, here's what I think about that. BOLLOCKS! I've lived in a council estate for about 25 years. There was crime, anti social behaviour and drug abuse. I didn't get involved. And it wasn't because I was particularly brought up in a stable home environment. My motivation was that I didn't want to live in this environment. I had ambition and thought 'I have every right to do what I want.' It wasn't easy, no one expects it to be, but you have to take some responsibility if you want to attempt to live a life that doesn't revolve signing on, taking drugs, hanging about at bus stops and generally being chavvy dickheads.

Now maybe people like me have turned into a snob and should be giving them a step up. I agree but I have to be met half way. The time's I've heard some of these self-entitled idiots spout gibberish like 'I'm not geting out of bed for less than £400 a week...it's all them immigrants taking our jobs innit?' Well it isn't, dickface! It's YOU who's the problem! 1. You either haven't worked all your life so have little experience or skills for the wage you expect or 2. You've barely left school and there's this funny concept called getting experience and actually learning something. Try it. 3. Many of these immigrants either will work, have skills and are not arseing about everywhere, taking smack or boozing up. Hmm. Funnily enough I've rarely been met half way. Despite all the confidence and advice I've handed out to them in my capacity as a teacher or a IAG advisor. It's sad.

So some points:

1. Drug related crime should be punished as equally as rehabilitation. Higher sentences. These people shouldn't be on the streets untill they're clearly clean and have a job. Maybe social workers could assess their progress on a regular basis.

2. Kids have to go to school. If some school's are unable or can't retain them, create schools that will. Education is important.

3. Family planning is an area that has be debated for future generations. What'sthe point of having kids if you don't have the means to support them through life, and if they end up being scroats just like their parents? We really have to be harder in some areas and discourage certain cultures. Having a child isn't merely a way of life, it's a responsibility which a lot of parents get bored with. This has to stop.

4. Sentencing should actually fit the seriousness of the crime. Anything that involves physical or mental harm should be sentenced accordingly, rather than people being allowed to reoffend.

5. Probation. Are criminals suitably followed up on release? If not, why? Can't we find them a job prior to release and put an order on them getting back in touch with the wrong crowd? Are we doing this? Why isn't it working?

6. Put them on an island with Nick Griifn. Then they'll all have the kind of paradise they've reaped and deserve.

Anyway, that's my lot for now.

Best Before: Campaigns

2010-04-19T16:59:00.000+01:00

What better way to reach your electorate and telling them what you stand for than peppering the streets with propaganda in the form of shit posters, and littering the TV schedules with political/election broadcasts, designed to get you, the dumb assed voter to ask the same rhetorical questions as the parties? In fact they are all the same questions. Like someone who has a brain in their skull is going to say 'Actually I want a really shit national health service...schools can fuck off, bring back work houses...' They constantly want to bombard you with issues that 1. are quite obvious, 2. some people don't give a shit about because it doesn't apply to them (e.g. immigration. Many of thsoe who bleat on and on about being swamped not only don't work but never even bloody worked when immigration was low) 3. how shit the other parties are, as if they have the answers.

In a week that has seen the media in all but name masturbate themselves to death over the TV debate, piping cum all over spin alley and Westminster, you could be forgive that the only one's who really give a shit about campaigns are those in Westminster village. It's sort of like Manchester's Gay Village I imagine only with less shag tags.

So let's have a look what all the bother has been about.

Is that John Pertwee's son? Oh yeah, great one this. Grey skies, Britain at a crossroads metaphor, spineless-play-it-safe-Brown-esque voter who doesn't know which way to go because, well, Brown did one thing right perhaps...Oh dear.

This one's even more patronising. Part of a series of 'stories'. I've never voted tory before but...I'm middle class, I have kids and actually I'm an unconvincing actress. So fuck off everyone! They make me wretch and laugh at the same time. Look at how aspirational and pretty we all are. Listen up, crappy campaigners! You can see right through this shit! The blue jacket, the not very subtle imagery again. Why not feature chavs or people who have not actually voted tory, or pretended not to? Give me a break!

Here we go, so this is what Britain will look like in around 28 days if Labour or Tory's get in? Clegg would get my vote if the rage got him and he went around killing and eating the folks in the other broadcasts.

Best Before: Education

2010-04-13T16:54:00.000+01:00

How is it that every government manages to fuck this department up? How difficult can it be to stop all the petty squabbles about the two tier system, getting into the right school, university places? Simple, make it one size fits all. Remove the two tier system. Insecure middle class parents are just worried that their kids will end up becoming rapists and drug addicts because they may mix with kids from council estates and actually enjoy spending time with them. If you actually trusted your kids and didn’t smother them you wouldn’t have to worry whether they’ll rebel. And of course all kids from council estates don’t have ASBOS and those who have only do so because the government have fucked up their responsibility to those as well. But I’ll come to that at some point soon.

As for quality of provision, the state and private sector has, as far as I know teaching staff who are equally qualified to deliver high quality teaching. Problem is they are not supported in the state sector. Powers are taken away. Precious time is wasted doing CPD and crappy paper work and more and schools and headteachers are constantly playing second fiddle to the parents who, with respect, have little understanding of what teachers have to go through because they get an edited, fictionalised, dumbed down version of reality from the tabloid press. Rather than supporting schools, governments keep announcing stupid ideas that are unrealistic and actually haven’t improved the quality of education. Like the clueless proposal by Ed Balls for teachers to now have 'MOTs' that require teachers to have more tests. Hello? Don't they have CPD and teaching qualifications, along with teaching hours, planning and prep and god knows what else? You could pay them more for a start. But arseholes like Ed Balls do all this to pretend that they are doing something to address issues in education. What they are doing is muddying the waters and should stay out of it.

Just give the LEAs the money and let the experts in education (those who actually work in schools, colleges and universities) decide how to spend it. If we want your input and regulation we’ll ask for it. So make the system classess. Raise the leaving age to 21 and those who have no wish to be academic can and should train to do something vocationally. Those who don’t want to learn, the parents who want to complain, those who take the piss at school, penalise them. I’d rather not bring back borstall but those who want to opt out or are too disruptive can be taught via other means. Home schooling has to be reformed as well. Parents who wish to school there kids at home should be allowed to do so, once they have the necessary skills, experience and teacher training...and they should teach to the national curriculum, once this has been reformed to represent the soiceity we live in. What's this bollocks about school kids interviewing applicants for teaching jobs? It's one thing to bleat and squeal about the nanny state but this is beyond parody. You might as well have kids interviewing social workers, teens interviewing community support officers, Catholic preists, McDonald's staff, rocket scientists? Why is it that teachers are held in so low a regard in Britain? The image of teachers need to be celebrated and respected. This society wants to make the role models and fall guys in equal measure. You could start by rewarding and trusting them. Government and voters alike. Instead of acting like self-righteous wankers.

As for those journalists that bleat on in their annual pieces about A-level's getting easier, maybe they should actually spent a few weeks shadowing teachers or exam markers instead of insulting kids and parents who have worked hard to get qualifications. What they'd eventually realise once they've taken their pencils out of their constipated arseholes is that it's the assessment procedure which rewards rather than penalises. I speak as someone who is a qualified teacher and as marked exams.

Faith schools. The equal opportunities policy needs to be followed to the letter. If you're a teacher and you don't have a 'faith' this does not make you inadequate to work at a faith school. You wouldn't think that though, judging by the amount of teachers who either don't get an interview, let alone the one's who are not put off by some application processes that requires teachers to have a 'faith'. All schools should already be maintaning an all inclusive ethos and mission statement irrespective of your faith, sex, colour or ability. You wouldn't think it. If trust is one of the key themes of this election, more than any other time maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to trust the professionals who are qualified to deliver public services, and assess the middle managers and picky micro managers who interefere in something totally beyond them.

So who can best deliver this? That's anyone's guess.

Fire up the poster campaigns!

2010-04-04T13:12:00.000+01:00

There I was the other morning, minding my own business, walking back from a frame shop, looking at another negative poster by the tories of Gordon Brown smiling, anchored to the claim that he's cheated pensioners out of bliions of pounds, when I suggested the best way Labour could get the popular vote was if they used an image of Gene Hunt from Ashes to Ashes with the slogan 'If you don't vote for me I'm gonna come round your house and stamp on your toys!'

Well in a crazy blurring of fantasy/reality, Labour unveiled this poster. Which spectacularly misfired, as Labour strategists and the poor bloke who won the comp to design a poster obviously were out of touch and failed to recognise that Gene Hunt is actually POPULAR, especially with the female electorate.

Fair from being offended Cameron was flattered. You can guess what came next.

So there you have it. The election effectively belongs to the tories, thanks to the popularity of a racist, homophobic, sexist fictional cult television anti-hero.

In short, Labour are one nil ahead in election fuck up's.

Best Before Election

2010-03-31T19:57:00.001+01:00

I apologise in advance if this doesn’t come across as eloquent or very well researched but I’m almost at the end of my tether to such an extent that this series of fantasy policies and proposals I’m about to put forward warrants nothing but an emotional and theoretical response. I hate the tory party and the values it professes to have. There’s no way I would vote for them. In fact I haven’t voted for anyone since 1992. I didn’t vote New Labour in as well and its facile when arseholes say ‘Ooh if you haven’t voted you don’t have a voice!’ Bullshit. The fact that someone hasn’t voted is in itself a political act, just because there isn’t a party to represent or to competently carry out this apathy, or alternative, brave policies says quite a lot actually. So you do have a voice. More so.

All the other niche parties are jokes as well. UKIP, BNP, Monster Raving Looney Party…often created to display how ridiculous politics have became in recent years. But you'll get jerks who will say 'your MP has a duty to you, go and see them, write to them…’ but all they have ever done is nod and say how much they understand, that they are doing what they can, but they do fuck all! And continue to do so and will continue to do so. If I don’t vote in the next election it’s easy to dismiss me has having no voice so I’ll make my voice known here. I’ll put forward my policies for the Best Before Party. It does exist, although there is only one member. This should take us up to the General Election.

I'll begin next time with my take on EDUCATION and how we might go about managing not to fuck it up, the way everyone else does.

Corden This Berk Off! Please someone!

2010-03-25T21:42:00.000Z

No point wondering why BBC give this arsehole a wide birth because, as we know from previous examples, the BBC are always making shit decisions. So because he was in 'The History Boys' it follows that Corden is some sort of acting genius. Because he was in the way, way over the head rated ' Gavin and Stacey' he must be some kind of acting genius and not the squealing, giggling pig face he is. (Actually he'd fit right in if a remake of Redemption came along). He just isn't funny or any more talented than yer average BTEC First Dip Peforming Arts student. Don't insult our intelligence Corden. But because like Kay, he's in your face like vomit and spittle from an unpleasant patient in a care home, and he's cuddly, he's some kind of genius. Right.

Not even worthy of a post title really

2010-02-26T20:09:00.000Z

Timbaland must immediately stop appearing in videos. What's with his eyes? His he blind or something or are the songs so comical and novelty that he can't take them seriously and this shows in his eyes? I enjoy 'some' of his past productions in very tiny doses but there's something prickish about him.

Deep Space Kraft(y)work

2010-01-27T01:35:00.000Z

Does this mean that all the employees of Cadbury's will have to eventually commit mass suicide?

BEST BEFORE: DECADE

2010-01-21T17:21:00.004Z

What a decade. The bad news is that it will descend further and we’ll all be ageing while it does.

It’s been a crap decade partly because of the following;

RISE OF THE CHAVS

Imagine the film 'Terminator 3-Rise of the Machines' and substitute it for chavs. It’s a terrible vision of the future isn’t it? And it’s been here for a while already. Chavs aren’t distasteful label whores like Daily Express/Mail believe. They can’t afford labels, often getting knock off’s from the market. They don’t work, are largely unemployable, are often off their faces on any number of drugs or cheap cider, have bad teeth, skanky and manky, wear baseball hats (still), are fond of striped tops and tracksuit bottoms, can often be seen in council estates with their council faced girlfriends, love what they call hardcore music, although they’d as would we, be hard pressed to recognise and identify track names or writing credits. They might occasionally splash out hiring a stretch limo (you know the type, with the phone numbers advertised all over them. Like anyone IMPORTANT ever uses a stretch limo!?) ASBO’s are a badge of honour as is the signing on book. A chav is not so much a lifestyle choice as a way of life but some of them can choose to try and leave it behind.

THE AGE OF SELF ENTITLEMENT

Sex and The City. Meism. Parent’s with 4X4’s who want there best for their kids not because private schools are necessarily better serviced but because they don’t want their kids to mix with chavs (because they might enjoy mixing with chavs), just in case they get chav diseases such as swine flu and sars and aids and them kind of things. I don't Julie Burchill was the first hack who wrote stuff as if she expected us to actually care about her life but you can't move for bloody coloumists in the weekend mags that come with the newspapers. I don't give a shit what Zoe Williams thinks about cyclists in London or what that Mary, Queen of Queens (or whatever she's bloody called) woman thinks about David Cameron no more than you give a shit what my views are on self-entitlement or meism. So because of wank TV shows, every knob and her one armed mother has a right to be famous. You don't have to be a generic singer, shag John Leslie or be a middling dancer anymore. Fame is a right. And everyone deserves what they get.

THE CELEBRATION OF THE STUPID

Jade Goody became in some respects a poster girl for the stupid and ignorant and the media loved her for it…actually they hated her for a while and took the piss but when enough arseholes hung around the Big Brother house in support of her, the media couldn’t help but fall for the minger. It was amusing to view the spineless arseholes who slagged her off practically forming a line around the block to eat her shit. But the stupid are all right. If you’re stupid you can have a career in radio and television, you can have your own youtube chanel where you can dance like an arse in your bedroom and unconvincingly lip sync to bad songs. You can even write a bitter blog, you can join a forum for people who like generic emo music, where you can encourage each other to self harm, you can create a show called Loose Women, where the only thing actually loose about it is what remains inside their skulls. You don’t need an education. You don’t have to be able to write to put out tediously forumulaic novels, you just have to have been in a soap or got you sex video online, shagging someone, or be the poor offspring of some daft Irish prick with a mediorce music or a wasted football career. You can even be the president of the

United States

because your fellow stoopid yanks will endorse you. If you’re stupid you will be trusted to run organisations that love bombing innocent people because you’re dumb enough to believe in something with no basis in fact or because your followers are too daft and backward looking to interpret ancient books and beliefs that profess to be about love. If you're too stupid out of laziness then get outta my face. If you've squandered your opps like fuckhead Doherty, then stay outta my way. I've no respect for you. Euthanasia is the best thing for you.

COMEDY BECAME UNFUNNY

I used to enjoy Little Britain. But after about three weeks I realised that I was getting the same jokes, the same punchlines and it wasn’t as funny. Then they made another series…and another one…all with the same forumula. And it became fairly hateful. That kind of sums up BBC/E4/ITV’s sense of humour this decade. It became less about quality control and more about milking it…and of course the dullards at home who had forgotten how it could be, didn’t know any different. That’s why Peter Kay is a success, it’s why people think Frankie Boyle has an acid like wit, why inoffensive Russell Howard gets his own show, why Michael McIntrye can sell out arenas.

Britain

’s brains haven’t had much excericise in the world of comedy. Like pretty much everything else in this decade it’s easier to get the quick watered down fix. Pointless watching Izzard, it’s too much to take in. And he's gone off the boil as well.

REALITY TV/BAD TV

Big Brother, The X-Factor, Doctor Who…I can’t go on…I’m tired. Just look at the parts I've written above. It's all related.BBC 3/ITV1 and 2. OK?

SOCIAL NETWORKING

Good or bad? As with everything once it's abused or infected with stupidity and dumb ass people using it to say how pissed they love getting, how great their lives are, when they're getting pissed up again, the best time they got pissed up, the evidence to prove that they got pissed up, then you kind of want to put a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger.

BLAND MUSIC

2000 was really the birth of the likes of Jo Whiley championing mediocre music such as Coldplay and David Gray although I’d been initially suspicious when a year or so earlier she was acting like fucking Gomez were the saviour of British music. This continued with The fucking Hoosiers and Scouting For Girls or what we call 'comical indie'. 'Landfill indie' is soo 2007 and the kind of crap John Harris would come up with in his fashioned moody pose. How could popular British music really get better when the whole Britpop toss a few years earlier had been set as a laughable benchmark for quality. In 2010 things are still disappointing. Oasis are still inexplicably seen as relevant and the NME are still hyping anything slightly lo-fi, mock punk based and pretend angst ridden from the

. (Most of their recommendations don’t amount to much and yet they present themselves up as tastemakers) Mika's rubbish. Florence and the Machine has replaced the space left by Dido, surely. Even 'urban' music, which in the distant past (I'm talking the 1980s) which could be pioneering was rather dull. Sure you had some good moments from Dre, Eminem and Jay Z but this only spawned Timbaland-lite shit like the Black Eyed Fucking Peas! No hope there as well. Pop music? The demise of the charts, singles? Oh it all happened...not I think because of people's access to free music on the internet but because there was nothing worth buying in the charts! Anything decent either wasn't actually getting played on the radio or was shoved into niche programmes. We lost John Peel as well which is a big loss to anyone who actually cares about music.

LONDON/ NATHAN BARLEYS

The only people who actually love London are those with disposable incomes, who live in a stylish, secure area, hermetically sealed, go to daft parties, bars, restaurants and gallery’s without actually doing a real day to day job…but in the ‘noughties’ a term I still hate, London is still the centre of the universe. The dubious capitals of this London are Hoxton/Shoreditch and Primrose Hill. Now despite the TV show 'Nathan Barley' being a poor and disappointing effort, you do see Barly types bloody everywhere because they look ridiculous. In Manchester we have the morons in the 'Northern Quarter'. Far from the being the height of fashion, culture, music and urbanism, they look like transexual gypos, a parody of themselves. Everyone in this world has a haircut that would make Russell Brand blush. Presumably Russel Brand and Nick Grimshaw are worshipped as some kind of Barleyesque gods. They're harmless enough even if they look like clowns.

THE POLICE STATE

Are we there? I tried to change my bank account in 2002 and all I got, because I didn't have the exact information to the letter was 'ooh since 2001 everything's changed' as if I was supposed to react 'well that's understandable'. So what legacy has 2001 attacks on the US, the illegal War in Iraq left us with? I could be petty but the truth is actually petty. There's more redtape when you want to travel...all this ridiculous bollocks about what you can or you can't take. Even local councils abuse the anti-terrorism laws to penalised its tax payers for all kinds of stuff they never used to give a shit about...and I don't know if it's true, but I read about it the other day, some idiot has even had his tweet reported because he made a joke about bombing an airport because of the bad weather and he was collared and held by the cops (who knew full well he wasn't a terrorised and hadn't actually comitted a crime). So the web is being watched, keywords being flagged and we're being held accountable for semantics. The next ten years won't fare better, I fear.

POOR JOURNALISM AND ESSAYISTS

This decade, largely because it’s sense of ambition, execution and acceptance of things of any value were of such a low standard, also mirrored but continued a decline in journalism in so called ‘serious’ media. See Zoe Williams, Deborah Orr, Jan Moir, Quentin Letts. Peter Hitchens, Deborah Ross, Johann Hari, Peter Robinson, Conno McNichols, Tania Brannigan, Rod Liddel, Jess Cartner Morley, Aerial Leve. I know that they’ve had much of my bile this year but they can at least take comfort in that they are more well known than many, many other coloumists that deserve this accolade.

METROSEXUALITY

This was the decade where for about two minutes another pointless lifestyle trend was promoted. Basically men decided to have a wash (and stay closet crossdressers) So what? There was also a shit Channel 4 series with the same name as well. Really shit.

RECEIVED OPINIONS

Everyone was a national treasure in this decade. Big Brother and Eastenders is like Chekhov. Or so says received opinion. No.

In short Orwell was right.

BEST BEFORE BITTER AWARDS 2009

2010-01-03T16:07:00.000Z

For this ceremony I'm not going to bother with giving my awards names and who they will go to. I'll just get on with writing the names of everything that's been shit this year and giving my reasons. In their own way they are all winners of their worst awards possible for being complete wastes of lives and time. I'm unable to qualify it any more than that.

N-DUBZ
Take all the worst aspects of East 17 and Black Eyed Peas and you're likely to end up with an abomination such as this. In fact you wouldn't even have to take the worst aspects. And Mr Hudson who I thought had quite a OK song with 'White Lies' does himself no favours hanging round with arseholes. Maybe he must be an arsehole himself.

SWINE FLU PANIC
One of my pet hates is panic, moral panic usually but the kind of hysteria newspapers love to promote, the arseholes who take it all in. I hate people who panic buy, as you know IF YOU'VE EVER READ THIS FUCKING BLOG. The most fucked up thing about this type of panic is that some cunts have actually gone to the trouble of putting together a swine flu progress chart/map thingy you can access on BBC website and SKY news. No doubt I'll bet there are widgets and apps you can stick on your own website, just in case no-one is panicking enough about it. Yes, there have been a few deaths, yes it's unpleasant, but more people walk under a bus every week (probably to escape the fucking hystery) than actually die from Swine Flu every year. So don't panic. Don't panic. You musn't. You will die eventually. It may be worse than swine flu, it may be tortourous, drawn out, it may be a freak death, it may be an unjust one, it may be peaceful but it probably won't be from swine flu (Hope my death isn't an ironic one)

JAN MOIR
Break open a bottle of champers everyone! Jan Moir has died of dubious causes. Apparently a knife wound to her jugular. A bottle of Amyl Nitrate was discovered lodged up her fat arse. Hmm...I find nothing suspicious about this death knowing how many people she pissed off with her poor prose about gay popstars and her claims about shopping in Poundland without so much as a personal shopper. Let's have a moments silence as we consider all the wonderful things and very poor restaurant reviews. She leaves a handful of frothy mouthed middle cllass bigots, racists and serial rapists.

FRANKIE BOYLE MICHAL MCINNTYRE RUSSEL HOWARD DARA O BRIEN None of you are funny. Mock The Week isn't funny. Why bother? Just stop it off.

TWITTERATI
I have a twitter account. I have at the time of writing about 11 followers and I follow 19 people. My followers include Peter Wyngarde. Most of the time I have nothing to say so I don't say it. I don't have a clue how to get more followers, perhaps I should post more or tell more people or accept more spam, I'm not sure. What I am sure about is those who the media call the twiterati. These are a few people who have thousands or millions of followers and use this power to get people to sign peitions, complain or essentially just use to get them to watch their programmes, buy their books, records and DVD's. Twitter isn't a social networking site it's of course a tool of promotion. When the likes of Stephen Fry, who seems to post a million times a week, actually diminishing what it is I love about him, bangs on about twitter being great because if you get stuck somewhere or need information tons of people will instantly reply to you, this is all very well if you're popular and have fame. If you're a loser like me, which a lot of us are, this information is a fat lot of use, and it just grates, and it reinforces the idea that some of these celebrities are part of one big protective clique that normal people aren't allowed to enter. I still don't know what Twitter is for.

GIRLS CAN'T CATCH
Yes, with every passing month another manufactured girl band pops up and inevitably are hyped for five minutes, usually by all the queens on Popjustice forum. That's all very well if they are any good, or if the pop songs are actually enjoyable. But like Mini Vida Girls Can't Catch are just another big disappointment and they look so plain. (Nothing wrong with plain girls, they are often more shaggable than fashioned women but for heaven's sake stop acting like you're god's gift when you look like skanky girls as featured in those text dating adverts)

LILY ALLEN
Keith Allen's daughter made a bit of a dick of herself this year when she whined on about illegal filesharing, totally missing the point that she had done it herself, and that she plagerised someone else's blog post. She attempted to start a debate on a new blog which wasn't actually a debate more of a forum for her showbiz chums like James Blunt to write open letters to the forum saying how their livelihoods had suffered boo hoo when in fact they offered no evidence to suggest that the low downloads of their material made a difference to their poorly received products. When the trade against Ms Allen became too much, too sophisticated and too abusive to respond to, totally emphaising how out of touch she was, she shut up shop and went home with her tail bewteen her legs. The fact that she held up Lord Mandelson as some beacon of light was laughable given that he's had to resign twice because of dodgy dealings. Way to go, Lily. Next time you open your gob, do us all a favour love and think for a second.

KATY BRAND
Yet again this unfunny woman comes up. Lazy comedy, wide of the mark pop pastiches, SUB ITV 2 humour.

GEORGE LAMB
We still hate you, Master Lamb. We truly do.

NICK GRIMSHAW
Indicative of what's wrong with Radio, and new media in general. You're not zany, happening and on the cutting edge, you're a despised, untalented foppish haired fucker who does fuck all to promote decent new music. Fuck off! If they cloned you and made you into a boy band it would look like this

Best Before- Christmas Ennui

2009-12-02T15:29:00.003Z

This year's christmas special has come early. To celebrate there will be no long winded slating of everything that's hateful about the season and how we've nothing to celebrate, or how I want to stab everyone to death involved with the M&S Christmas adverts, how it comes earlier every year, how totally and how it all, including the shops playing carols 5 weeks early leaves me with a feeling of ennui, so I'll leave you with a repeat of Some Mother Do 'Ave 'em I saw a few years ago. There you go. If that ain't goodwill I don't know what is.

ABI BLUR FLASHFORWARD M&S NEW MOON WORLD STILL GOING MAD!?

2009-11-27T15:27:00.005Z

The headlines today. Abi Titmus to play Lady Macbeth? Blur being voted best live band at UK festival awards? Flashforward still hasn't been cancelled? New Moon? M and S Christmas? Yep, it's all happening. Best Before gives it to you straight. Accept no rip off's from Charlie Brooker or anyone else.

ABI TITMUS
So some tart who shagged John Leslie and apparently enjoyed some black girl licking her arsehole (or was it the other way around) is playing Lady Macbeth? Yes, tarts can act as well. Tarts can be ambitious. But why give the role to her? Is there no other aspiring actress out there who could play the role better or has it come to getting tabloid fodder to turn Shakespeare into a freak show? I hate Shakespeare anyway. So my point is fuck off to the headline grabbing bastards who do this kind of shit. It ain't cool, it ain't fuckinfg edgy, it's simply twatty. I hope the play sinks.

Here is a link to a shit article by a shit muck raker what goes into slightly more depth and history if you can stomach the vomit. By the way, Jan Moir. You won't be getting off lightly. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1229664/Abi-Titmuss-playing-Shakespeares-famous-villain-Lady-Macbeth.html

BLUR

I kind of like Blur. Not enough to buy their albums or care about them but to say 'Yeah, they're OK.' So imagine my surprise when they win some award for being best live act based on their shambolic gig at Glastonbury last summer at the UK festival awards. Fuck's sake! There may very well be arseholes and mother fuckers who will sit around, arms folded, nod and say 'It was spontaneous, it was emotional, Coxon...Coxon..you have to hand it to them.' To which I will say, 'You're fucking up if you really believe all that bullshit. Fact 1-It souned shit. Fact 2. It wasn't this big lovefest get together or emotional reunion. Some of them needed the money. Fact 3-They hadn't actually split up in the first place. So how many times Jo Whiley wants to wet her knickers over it, just remember there were far more desrving acts. Why couldn't Bruce Springsteen have taken the crown, even just because he took great pleasure in breaking the wanky curfew with 'It's Bruce Time!' Indeed.

NEW MOON

Uh? Vampires? With a twist? Blood/ Lust? Am I fucking missing something or what?

Marks and Spencers Christmas Campaign

Oh fuck off to everyone in them! Screw you, Twiggy!

FLASHFORWARD

I suppose some of you sad fucks might be aware of this abortion of a show. It's supposed to be cool because it's like LOST! but in the city. It's supposed to inspire water cooler moments with the tagline 'What did you see?' but 1. no one actually ever has water cooler moments 2. if you said what did you see to someone, they wouldn't have clue what you're prattling on about because in all understandable likelihood they won't have watched the show, and even if they had, what would you expect them to say, when they haven't actually had a premonition. Do you expect some cunt at the water cooler to give you a fictional premonition? Do you? But it's also quite, quite awful for other reasons. The term Flashfoward is a kind of term used by screenwriters. However in this show, every sad fucker is constantly saying 'Your flashforwards...my flashforwards' or 'Their flashforwards' even when every character wouldn't speak the same or use the terminology of a writer. I suppose this is nitpicking but it's indicative of a flawed script and series. Consider that these losers want to string you along for several years. The characters are not very well developed. I'm sure the producers will say that this is on purpose and over the season we will see them develop blah di blah fucking blah but you can't care about them because the acting is so poor, even when half of them are British. The whole premise of some global catastrophe wiping people's memories for about two minutes in which everyone has preminitions isn't intriguing or new or brave, it's just gimicky and a poor excuse on which to hang a series, buy you some thinking time while everyone involved scamper about trying to come up with a decent plot and characterisation. What did you see? I see a cancellation.

The Comedian That Doesn't Tell Funny Jokes Comedian

2009-11-23T18:11:00.000Z

Why? What's the point? If he's not ripping basic stand up's and jokes off he seems to be under the impression that saying something loud enough will get laughs. Apparently, fresh from his comeback of representing the dire Children In Need single and the knowingly bad, but not really biting Pop Goes The X-Factor crap he pushed onto us, he's finally got his arse into gear and is doing more shows. He's excited because he's going to enlighten us with witty observations about Wife Swap, Deal or No Deal, iPhones, Facebook and ironically, recycling. It won't matter to the dullards who lap this shite up though, will it? It's al part of their diet of X-factor, I'm a celebrity Get me out of here! and child abuse. Good to see him with the finger on the pulse, only five years out of date, eh Pete? My toes curl at the thought of his 'new' routine.

'iPhone's! Mad aren't they? Whassthatallabout!! Deal or No Deal!! That banker's mad, eh? There's no one on the phone!! Facebook! Who has face book and looks on the pics to see how fat and old their mates are?!! I'm on the cutting edge, me! I tell it like it is!!'

I'll bet Bill Hicks and Lenny Bruce are turning in their graves.

When he dies I doubt Bolton would get over it. They'd erect a big fuck off scary statue that will scare the sensitive souls and re-release 'Armarillo' as a kind of demented 'Candle in The Wind.' Whereas if Gary Megson died there'd be a big carnival inside Reebok stadium.

Has Johann Hari Debased Modern Culture?

2009-09-25T13:07:00.007+01:00

Beware folks! This man is a tit. He's the gay version of Quentin Letts. I'm not sure who that statement is more insulting to, Quentin or gay people. It's a valid comparison though. With Quentin Letts you already know that he's a creepy, spineless little toe rag with backward opinions, the backstabbing turd who always vowed to get the bullies back, the hand ringing, crotch rubbing perv of Westminster gossip. It's not a nice assumption, is it?

On the other hand, however, Johann Hari is a little bit worse. He's the suspicious sort that often crops up on Channel 4's 'Big Brother' spin-offs or Newsnight Review, spouting garbage just to appear contrary, therefore 'original' and (how I hate this term) 'edgy'. Example. The general consensus about 'Big Brother' is that it is TV's slop bucket. Far from actually fulfilling its Orwellian social experiment and providing something that actually educates us, it's nothing more than a mirror distorting society, a cynical producers fantasy, a sign that something is not right in TV world, hand picking misfits and plonking them in a cage and giving them rewards like seals for performing irrelevant tasks. The whole thing is as pleasant as a big fat shit on a pristine copy of 'Nineteen Eighty-Four'. So sad. But Hari and his lot would say something like ' ooh but that's not what it's about. It's not supposed to be an Orwellian nightmare...it's Shakespeare!'

So Hari is an apologist of this type of programme and while I couldn't care less what people choose to watch, accompanied with queeny squeals and bottles of wine, I do object to the idea that 'Big Brother' is discussed or reviewed as if its akin to Shakespeare. Hm, convenient isn't it, when intellectuals can compare low art to high art or are far too liberal to actually see art in its different shades of relevance. It's the only way they can justify their guilty pleasure by comparing something to Beckett or Mozart. It fucks me off. I'd have more respect if you said you were an avid viewer but you were aware its a piece of escapist shit. Please be under no illusions. Unfortunately arseholes like Hari pop up unpleasantly like last night's off treacle pudding and engage in meaningless punditry. Meanwhile in Argentina a kid is probably being raped.

What disappoints me is that Hari should know better. He writes for centre-left-liberal newspapers which aren't focused on tits and goss. He obviously has some tastes that seperate him from the average Daily Star reader, unless he keeps a stash of 'OK!' mags in the bog to whack off to in between seasons of Big Brother. (I bet he writes some self-serving, wanky obituary when Big Brother ends next year. I bet you a million quid he does!) His kind of dumbed down 'journalism' is partly the reason I've lost interest in the likes of The Guardian or The Indie. As with the low-brow me, me, 'journalism' of Deborah Orr or Peter Robinson, it feels like you're reading a Christmas newsletter from someone who'd under the impression that you give two shits about them. Maybe he reminds me in many ways of Russell T. Davies.

You wouldn't guess but I've nothing against how people waste their time as long as it doesn't hurt anyone or break any laws. But let's get things into perspective. Big Brother and its ilk is just cheap, lowest common denominator entertainment. It always was.

There Goes The Fear

2009-09-24T17:03:00.004+01:00

What a week it's been for poor Lily Allen. Apparently motormouth has had another opinion recently, although one can't tell if it's her opinion, EMI's or Peter Mandelsons. In any case she's pulled her blog idontwanttochangetheworld.blogspot as the 'abuse' became too much. Not sure you could call 99% of people who disagree with you as abuse but anyway. So what has she been getting her leotard in a tangle all about this time?

Well Keith Allen's daughter is concerned about music piracy. It's theft, it's stealing and its damaging up and coming artists, who need that money to create and develop. That is about as eloquently as Bat For Las--sorry Lily has been putting it in a recent myspace rant which then transferred to a blog called 'It's Not Alright', accompanied with emails and posts from the likes of Glasvegas, Guy Chambers and Mark Ronson. OK...Yep, she's much more than a guilty search on google images is our Lily.

Many of the posts to her blog received many, many comments, (including a couple by myself) some were silly, some were slightly insulting but generally the vast amount were reasonably trying to engage in the debate but pointing out why Lily was a bit wrong, hypocritical and quite possibly out of her depth. For her part, Lily refused to engage, coming back with the same, poorly reasoned repetitive party line. Then, like the devil himself she was gone, or I should say, her blog was taken down. Poor Lily, cwying, cwying till she gets her own way. You see, my dear reader, what Miss Allen hadn't figured or thought through was that not only did she lift material from techdirt.com but she even includes mixtapes on her official website, thus infringing copyright. Now while these have prompted, quite rightly, accusations of hypocrisy what irked dear Mr Kool, yours truly and still the best, was her complete silliness about the whole 'music isn't free' business. Of course it's fucking free to create. How much does it cost to write some lyrics, to come up with some chords on a mate's guitar? If you want stylists, graphic designers, PR guru's, etc, you pay for them. Many artists can't afford them, nor do they get the exposure, promotion, or even have success but they don't whine. They get jobs, they still find time to write or play gigs or hammer together a difficult piece of electronic in their bedrooms. Lily and her lot are entitled to nothing.

Secondly, record companies could and should have dealt with the emerging digital technology about 14 years ago, instead of giving huge advances or discovering a dirge of mediorce 'landfill' indie or pushing manufactured pap onto kids like drug pushers. Perhaps it's the dumbing down of culture and media as well as those who feels it's acceptable to live in a reality TV, minor celebrity, cheaply produced dominated culture? Who in the right mind would wish to pay for, or even download for free 90% of the mainstream stuff in the charts anyway when you have to rely on your wits and tastebuds to discover your own music online, and with any luck, if you see it available anywhere, buy it? I can't prove this but I reckon that many of the artists who are whining about this haven't had as much stuff downloaded by whatever means, than say, um, Radiohead. I reckon that James Blunt struggles to have his stuff illegally shared, given that the majority of his audience are probably over 50. Face it he's the Chris De Burgh of the noughties.

No Lily, all this, as I said in a response to your post, smacks too much of the Lars Ulrich/Paul McGuinness school of protectionism. It makes you seem right wing, and selfish and goes against many of the ethics of your musical heroes, and, I gather your dad, who I recall on a music programme on channel four about 8 years ago had a pop at Ronan Keating and some idiot from Five when he passionately tried to explain what pop music used to mean and say something that the likes of Boyzone, Five and Richard Blackwood were failing to do. He was spot on. This is important as these standards I feel are something to do with the falling sales not just people grabbing the odd mp3. Funnily enough Lily didn't seem to have a problem with file sharing a few years ago. What she has to understand is that album sales tend to drop with every album. Most artists, unless you're Abba or The Beatles could tell you this. And Bjorn Ulvaeus should know better.

Even Matt Bellamy from Muse has tried to wade into the debate, suggesting that ISP should up their prices. As if they want to alienate the consumers, much in the same way Lily's already done. Stick to making third rate prog rock, Matt. As for Fergal Sharkey, he doesn't help the debate either. But at least he has a nice, pristine, self-important job to do since he hasn't had a hit for twenty five years. Memo to Fergal: don't use John Peel's love of 'Teenage Dreams' to highlight your cause. I highly doubt he would be with you on your anti-music stance and, more than this, its really underhand and creepy of you. x Smirnov

If you're short of cash, Lily, get yourself down to Jobcentre Plus, instead of throwing your things out of the pram. There's a few going in the Healthcare Sector. Perhaps you could aid, bathe, feed and toilet the elderly for money, and imagine how great you used to have it. Look, there has to be some content medium that doesn't involve Lars Ulrich making a twat of himself or that involves constant, brusque advertisements buggering up your listening pleasure. Here's some ideas:

1. Make better albums.
2. Bring back more focus on music television, such as Top of The Pops they way it used to be, or the Chart Show. More programmes like Jools Holland which focuses on better and more exotic music.
3. Kill Louis Walsh and Simon Cowell. In a sense it would be a spiritual death if they knew the X-Factor was cancelled and all this 'I want to be famous' nonsense would disappear.
4.Hose MTV down and return to 24 hours of music television. Re-instate Ray Cokes. Or re=classify MTV1 as MTV2 and make MTV2 the real music channel because it actually plays MUSIC VIDEOS.
5.Hang George Lamb/Radio 1 controllers/A&R deps/Schedulers/DJ's that don't actually know anything outside of Primrose Hill or Hoxton about music. We could watch them swing in Trafalgar Square. All the proceeds could go to unsigned artists on myspace who haven't had anything downloaded yet.
6.Why can't record companies actually cut their massive advances they give to mediorce artists and employ some Internet savvy people to delete mass content from torrents where they are being 'infringed'? Even though they leak material anyway.

What's the worst that could happen? Lily and her lot would have struggled to make it into the Top 50 in 1994. Be thankful you've been allowed to last this long. Free ride over.

Check out techdirt.com for some reasonable debate about this storm in a teacup.

Electric Dreams Series 2 with Phil Oakey 'Yorkshire Tea and Little Boots'

2009-09-06T17:35:00.003+01:00

Hi-ya! How've yer been? I've had a right couple of mad months, me! I'll get to that in a bit. First of all welcome to me second series on this blog. Smirnov Kool has granted me a second season. (He's said he's not been arsed with this blog for a few months) The first series isn't out on DVD yet and Mr Kool can't afford to pay me but since I had a right laugh last time, I thought I could tell yer what I've been up to.

In the first series of 'Electric Dreams' I gave you some of my lifestyle tips and advice about a number of things...In this series I'll like to tell yer what I've been up to and get a few things off me chest.

Yorkshire tea. It's my second favourite tea, you know. When I'm in York I think nowt about popping into 'Betty's Tea' rooms and having a cuppa. You'd think that being Phil Oakey I can just push in front of the queue and shout 'Scuse me, make way...I'm Phil Oakey...here comes the Mirror Man...' but no, I'm not like that. Anyway, why couldn't the makers pick me to do the adverts instead of John Shuttleworth? Don't get me wrong, I like the bloke but come on, he's not as modern as me, is he? I wear nice shirts from Duffer, he got his from Greenwoods. As for my favourite brand of tea, well, the girls and I loved this blend of tea a fan of ours who lived in Bristol used to send us in the 80s . Can't for the life of me think what brand it is. The fan has since died so I never got to find out. Shame.

As you can from the attached pic I came across on Google images me and Little Boots have been getting down together. She was right grateful when I allowed her the privilege of laying down some vocals for our duet 'Symmetry'. She's fucking boss, though isn't she, is our Victoria? Love her album. That song called 'Symmetry' ain't too bad either? Hey, if you're reading this Little Boots how's about doing a duet on 'All I Ever Wanted' from the last League album, 'Secrets' for our next tour, or perhaps a stand alone digital single? Just give me a bell, love and we'll talk.

My talents were also added to The Pet Shop Boys album, 'Yes' on the track 'This Used To Be The Future'. Why it ended up on the second Limited edition disc instead of Legacy wasn't my decision, pal. I reckon that Brian Higgins (they all call him Hitler Higgins in the industry by the way) was responsible for the sequencing. Still folks, see if you can get hold of the mp3 79p from iTunes. It's right good. The best Pet Shop Boys track I've heard for years to be honest.

If you're all interested in electronic pop music I'll be on that programme 'Synth Britannia' in a few weeks on BBC 4. Make a note.

Right folks, that's it for now. I've got to put me tea on now...I'm havin' sweet and sour chicken and chunky chips. Boss!

'We'll always be together'
x

Phil

Hate him! I hate him!

2009-09-06T15:55:00.003+01:00

Here's a poser for you? What is it about Mika that I hate so much? Is it the music, the annoying vocal theatrics, the fact that his face is more punchable than La Roux's, the derivative songwriting, the 'ooh I'm such a victim' he often plays? Is it his shit hairstyle? Perhaps it's all of this and more. I'm sure he's a really nice, charming guy, so why do I want to hurt him?

GUILT FEST: The Report

2009-07-20T16:27:00.002+01:00

Ever since some rich, racist, fox-hunting farmer got rid of his gypos, Pagans and shot the faces off burglars, 'Guilt Fest' has been the only festival that all the cool twats and ageing musos wold rape Asian molesters to be seen at. This years festival was no different. Hoards of Kanye West sunglasses-wearing bleach headed fools, Gaymers pissheads and the crusty dread-locked hippies you'd otherwise kick to death if you saw on the street with their whippets, were there, all competing with each other to see who'd have the most ridiculous 'Guilt Fest Moment'. And trust me if I hear one more loser say the festival is not about the bands performing but it's about stepping over dead hippies in mud to laugh at students on stilts handing out free beer, Keith Allen's karaoke, the George Foreman Heroine Machine, Heston Blumathal's Amphibian Grotto, then I will kill them where they stand. I'll also offer five new pounds to the first person who can strangle Edith Bowman or garrott Nick Grimshaw. My feet are still peeling. I went to 'Guilt Fest' and all I brought back was these lousy blisters. Sounds like an idea for a t-shirt.

THE KNIFEFISH STAGE

Jive Bunny

Mr Scruff

Greedy Jesus

Beagle 2's Musical Version of 'Let The Right One In' in the style of Jeff Wayne.

The Mark Austins

Brian Wilson

Sean Lennon

Alphabeat

This is where it almost ended. Jive Bunny refused to leave the stage until just after 4 a.m. Only the promise of a bacon barm and Michael Eavis's shotgun seemed to arouse the rocking rabbit to stir. Early on in the night the atmosphere at Guilt Fest was given a dollop of edge when rumours had started that George Michael had died. 'Really, no, not George Mi-,' John Challis had asked with incredulity. 'Yes!' But alas the rumour was false. Brian Wilson took to the stage and performed the Pet Sounds Variations, a version of Pet Sounds in the style of Lady GaGa. 'Fuck Mike Love!' he yelled to a screaming audience. 'Everyone say fuck Mike Love!' 'Fuck Mike Love' we all shouted. Warp's Mr Scruff played a confusing fusion of electronics and tortured animal testing soundtracks much to Beagle 2's annoyance in the wings, following his ambitious version of 'Let The Right One In'. 'Next year, I'll be performing a musical version of Antichrist' he told Nick Grimshaw, 'with Edith.' Then it was Jive Bunny, one of the most successful singles acts in the UK with the 'C-c-c mon everybody' refrain and the 'One-on-on-One-o' clock, two o 'clock...' (sigh) You know the rest.

THE FIRST AID TENT

The Fat Boys

Brian Wilson

Spastics Society

Les Smith

Concentration Camp

The Wonderful Comedy of Bobby Wilson (feat. Rudd Gullit)

Love Decade

Florence and the Machine

Highlights for me had to be The Fat Boys, lured out of semi-retirement with a bucket of tripe and some of the bored girls in the Fila tracksuits from the nearby council estate. 'Wipeout' and 'The Twist', merged effortlessly and complimented their lesser known gems such as 'Rumsfeld Raunch', 'Fanny Pack', and 'Martian Chronicles 2001'. Les Smith delivered a few bitter poems and an anti-war protest song about 'that woman who's under house arrest in Indonesia or somewhere like that...this is for her.' There wasn't a dry eye in the tent. Perhaps Les Smith was not the best choice to follow Bobby Wilson. His return after 11 years in the comedy wilderness was met reasonably well, despite his 40 minute rant about Peter Kay 'stealing my fucking audience of retards' and his bizarre accordion aria about ' Swine flu on the tube.' Where was the 'Nice one!' catchphrase and what happened to Rudd Gullit?

BRONSON BEAT TENT

The JoBoxers

The Revolving Heads

Brian Wilson

Soft Cell

The Toy Dolls

Kick the Pregnant

I Have To Be In Court Tomorrow

Didn't see any of this.

THE SIMON BATES MEMORIAL STAGE

Simon Bates

Curtis Stigers

Stefan Dennis

Franz Lambert

Brian Wilson

Franz Lambert brought the much needed dalliance and sophistication to the festival with his Yamaha versions of Warp classics, including the demonic 'Come To Daddy.' No festival would be complete without Stefan Dennis puncturing the emerging sunset with his feelgood singalong to 'Don't it make feel good?' 'I kinda like being here,' he said. 'It's like my CPD quota,' he bizarrely added. Brian Wilson gave a storming version of 'Sloop John B' whilst in tears and actually backstage. Simon Bates headlined the stage with his greatest Our Tunes stories including a moving one about a Mighty Boosh fan who meets a My Chemical Romance fan who leaves him for a Green Day fan who dies but gives birth to a Brian Wilson fan who gets a bad disease, HIV and leaves home to spend her remaining years with an abusive fan of Will Smith. Not nice. Terrible actually.

CLIQUE TENT

Kool and The Gang

Benny Andersson Band

Nine Inch Nails

Kanye West

Lady Gaga

Bobby Brown

Barry George

Quite an odd one this. During Benny Andersson Band's set, he was flashmobbed by Kanye West/Kool and The Gang fans, who in unison sang 'Don't want no bald headed woman, it makes me mean, makes me mean, males me mean!' Benny continued professionally throwing in a few nods to Kool and The Gang with a note for note sonic perfect version of 'Joanna' and NIN's 'Hurt' and 'Sin'. Then he finished the set with a triumphant performance of Joy Division's 'She's Lost Control'. For his part Barry George rendered his version of events of the Jill Dando murder to a sound bed of Air's 'The Virgin Suicides'. 'I was robbed,' he sniffed at the end. Hair- lip can make you sound like you're sniffing I guess.

CARELESS WHISPER CABARET TENT

Johnny Geddes

Bryan Ferry

Billy Corgan

Saint and Greavsie

In time people who study festivals and festival disasters will look upon this one to almost rival Roskilde. Not only are the Animal Cruelty League are looking into the mysterious deaths of snakes and rabbits but the NSPCC and the West Yorkshire Police are looking into why a girls hand was set on fire. Before you ask, all this happened during the last 15 minutes of Johnny Geddes conjuring and funster show. Things already weren't going well after the first 30 seconds when Geddes told the shocked audience 'You young punks wouldn't know a good snake act if it spat in your mouth.' Then it took his the next twenty minutes to twitter this messages on Fox Tavern's iPhone. I'm not sure what trick he was trying to perform when he set the poor girl's hand alight. (There were rumours that it was Jo Whiley's daughter) This was the exchange that took place.

JG: I'd like a guest. A girl. A young, fair, pretty maiden of about ten years of age. You can get them for nowt in your local school. Don't be shy. You'll do, me dear.

(JG just grabs a girl from the side of the stage) What's your name, me little angel dust? What? Can't hear you? What? Can't hear you? What? Oh hang on, I got cloth in me ears. (JG unravels some cloth out of his ears) What's your name? What? Now then, hold out your hand. (Gives it a kiss) Very charmed. The name of this trick is 'Hand Over Matter'. If you put your mind to it you can achieve anything. You've heard all that mumbo jumbo about walking on hot ash, well you dearest child, will be able to withstand your hand in flames. Now...no, no, don't weep... I'm going to add a bit of magic dust over your delicate hand, me child of the night and wave me magic wand...and before you know it...oh shit...'

(The girls hand is on fire. She screams and is rushed by three members of St John's Ambulance. In the confusion Johnny Geddes rabbits escape and jump into the crowd)

BRANDON FLOWERS FUNHOUSE STAGE

Erasure

La Roux

Blandon Frowels (Chinese Tribute Act)

DJ Tiesto

Karen O with Steve Bruce

Brian Wilson

All the confetti, balloons and fun was to be had upon this stage, if you discount La Roux not taking to the stage at all 'Until someone, takes me and my music seriously.' Karen O and Steve Bruce seemed an unlikely pairing but with Bruce declaration that 'heads will roll!' he stole a few hearts and not just from the chavs that evening. DJ Tiesto was as you'd expect, dance music for the Jeremy Kyle generation if the Jeremy Kyle generation had jobs and Kenco. Erasure were due to do a duet with Robert Powell but had to make do with Andy Bell from Five News. Meanwhile the real Andy Bell inexplicably branded the Pet Shop Boys who recently picked up a Brit for Outstanding Achievement in Pop Music, as 'Nazi shitheads.' Charming.

All in all a fierce and challenging round up of events but unlike incest I don't think I'd be doing this again too soon.

Goodwill to All Men

2009-07-08T21:17:00.002+01:00

Goodwill is an odd term. It's something we're supposed to have for all men and dogs. Around Christmas Dickensian people wander around muttering 'goodwill' to each other, whilst beating the cold out of their chests with their fists. They even make mediocre people 'goodwill ambassadors' these days. Their duties involve giving poorly written speeches saying how nice we should be to each other before they go back to their hotel rooms to score some coke and cock.

So what is goodwill? For me it should involve a warm glow, a happy, clueless, Ian Broudie-esque smug mood that you have when you're on holiday or in love. It's that warm anticipation in your body when you're attending some amazing event such as a Kylie Minogue concert or a Jimmy Carr burial. It's a big chorus of an ELO record, the theme to Starman but there are people, evil souls out there who want to ruin this goodwill for the rest of us. These blood sucking fuckers will use your goodwill to make you guilty, to extort money from you and drain the frivolous five minutes of love from your heart. It'll leave you slumped on the pavement wonderign where all your money and goodwill went. Here's some soul destroying examples:

Concerts.
You will be charged gob smacking prices for programmes and crappy merchandise, weak, cheap, warm beer by the venue. Yes, they have to make a living. I can accept that. No, they don't have to take the piss. This will have you reeling long after the thugs outside, the bootleggers and touts aggressively scream at you to give them money. One guy at a concert I went to years ago was cold heartedly selling those crappy luminous glow sticks. I've still no idea what the point of them are, no more than the shit toys street sellers try and push to the kids. Even though this guy had sold his last one he thrust his hand open under my nose and demanded 'Gimme some change, man!' Of course you'd well be within your rights to knife the Mos Side faced bastard in the throat in any other time for attempting to mug you, but no, not tonight, not when you have goodwill. Enough arseholes will be quite happy to pay through the nose for pieces of crap, the same hateful bastards who pay £5 on a cheap flight for beer or £4 for a bag of crisps and a bar of chocolate when the flight only actually lasts TWO FUCKING HOURS and they have already scoffed something at the airport ON TOP of breakfast.

Holiday.
Mother fucking opportunities everywhere to lick out the tourists and sell them what? Answer me this. Who the fuck in 2009, in this dimension, on this earth wants stupid fucking plastic knick-knacks, cheapo watches, bracelets, poor sun hats, poor Poundstretcher rip offs? Just leave us alone. I understand you have a living to make but don't try and make it with me. Don't. Please. Or next time I'll kick the shit out of you.

Rose sellers.
They despise us. They want a piece of your infatuation. They really couldn't give a shit if you've doped her. They want what's in your pocket. They will never stop till they get your cash. Behind their strained, tight smile, they are wishing death on you. Just ask when you see them 'Are you happy for us? Are you happy?' Tell them that you don't want a rose because you are with your sister or brother. They will get embarrassed. Good. Just look at their face. They hate you. They hate us. All of us.

Big Issue sellers.
Not all of them want to ruin our day and even if they did can you blame some of them, seeing wankers passing them, ignoring them, talking into phones, throwing half eaten sandwiches, breathing, having cosy homes to go to, the bastards? If you don't buy a magazine, even if there's nothing decent worth reading in it, if you dare not give them anything at all, you are scum. You are loathsome and worthless because you didn't have the bad fortune to keep it together, get addicted to drugs, have a nervous breakdown or through no fault of your own, end up on the streets. You callous bastards with your shopping bags and Police sunglasses.

Ghost of a chance

2009-06-15T22:25:00.005+01:00

This woman is laughable. Having had the misfortune to see 'The Ghost Whisperer' which we know is addictively shit, it appears that Jennifer Love-Hewitt is apparently relaunching her country and western music career. WHAT CAREER? If this is the case, it's wrong on about three levels.

Level 1-It's country and western music.
Level 2-Who the 'eck has heard of her previous music career?
Level 3-It's not just country and western music. It's country and western music made by Jennifer Love-Hewitt, the same Jennifer Love-Hewitt who is in a mediocre, 'spiritualist' programme called 'The Ghost Whisperer.

Still not convinced? Just in case you never had an inkling that Jennifer Love-Hewitt is the anti-christ, she plays a self-obsessed character called Melinda who can see and communicate with dead people. In the show her pisshead mother thinks she's an attention seeking bitch and resents her for it. From the goodness of her heart, our Melinda basically helps these sad dead fuckers put their past lives back together, reconcile with their families before they go to the 'light'. Yes, the assumption is that there is a heaven, obviously and everyone in this small, white middle class town , especially young people are dying every week. There's more casualties in this place than Iraq! The bitch even has a day job (at a place called 'Same As It Never Was') that she hardly has to go to, selling crap and junk. Not sure if it's supposed to be antique or what, but it's all tacky. So yeah, week in, week out she pretty much interferes with everything, but because Jennifer Love-Hewitt is the executive producer and she is better than anyone in the world, her profound character not only has screen time in every scene, but even plays a teenage version of herself during one flashback when it could have been played by a teen actress. Oh and every week there are always tears in the eyes of the actors, and everyone is soooo emotional. I can imagine some bland suburban family weeping buckets of crocodile tears. It's hateful stuff.

Basically Love-Hewitt and Melinda are both phoneys!

The New Bland

2009-06-11T19:28:00.004+01:00

Just stopping by to say...what exactly? No more than everyone else saying something a billion times a second all over the world via twitter, facebook and on whatever blog they're signed up to. I can't compete with so much importance, so much gossip and information. It's really good knowing every one's unsolicited opinion about High School Musical actors, Bruno and cheese sandwiches.

Truth be told I haven't had much to say about anything recently. Nothing that my brain isn't too numb to motivate me to put finger to key and translate those thoughts. Things are so stale, our critical words and put downs so banal and pointless that, unless you have a smudge of power, a significant audience, some weight, some influence you might as well burn yourself alive in Trafalgar square, after handing out leaflets just with the words 'I'n not him,' scribbled on with a stolen marker.

Bland is the new exciting. Well...it has been since 1998 hasn't it? You may not have noticed that I'm on twitter when I can be bothered, although I'm at a loss to explain what the fuss is about, especially when I only have 8 followers. It's all very well, dear Stephen Fry saying how amazing and intriguing it is, and how helpful people are when he has thousands of followers hanging on to his every word, and practically come up with any old shite with which to get his attention, knowing that they'll always be Alan Davies, the followers. So I'm glad twitter is working for Fry and he can share all the banalities of programme making and hotel staying. Good for you. But while I'm being amused I'll stay on for now.

Speaking of Blandness...how should we be reacting to the news of James Purnell, Caroline Flint, Hazel Blears, and Labour in general? Are they on the ropes? Does anyone outside of Westminster's gay village actually give two sheets of paper about the thieving cunts? Perspective please! I don't frothing loathe Hazel Blears because she looks like a rabid terrier or because she's a mediorce politician, but because she's full of dog shit. It's not personal, love. As for Purnell, Burnham, and the Millibands, they're just so bland and out of it. How they expect anyone to be able to relate to them who isn't already dribbling and brain dead, I'll never know. But very soon they won't be in government and we can open the champagne. OK, I don't think I'll hate anyone from the Labour party as much as Ed Balls but that would be a big ask.

Now Caroline Flint. Roar! Judging from your performances on Question Time, if you're not window dressing, then what are you? How else is one supposed to get his kicks if it's not from your body? Seriously.

What other bland things have been happening to me recently? Well, Eurovision was the blandest I've seen for about ten years and anyone who disagrees is just wrong...and gay. So yeah, guess it's time to reinvent the wheel with this blog. Again. Not sure what my remit was or if it's relevant anymore so we'll see how it goes. Until I can come up with some good answers I may hand over to my good friend's Philip Oakey for a new series of blogs and BBC weatherman Daniel Corbett for his 'The Hype' feature. Probably. OK. Yeah. No. Alright then. Oh yeah. Apparently 'Replika', that book all about me is now available on Amazon.com for a fantastic price. Go get it.

Review: The Revolving Heads-Cold Spaces

2009-05-14T17:37:00.002+01:00

Oh hello! Hasn't it been a while, eh? I'm not talking 'bout me. I'm talking about the last time any of us fuckers heard a new Revolving Heads long player...um revolve. Now I'm sure there's some of you bastards out there who might not remember this genre defying band because you weren't born. Here's a potted history.

They formed in 1994 on the back of the 658 Wigan-Leigh bus service, post Stone Roses and filled the gap that was missing in modern pop music that should have been filled by John Squires and Steve Coogan's brother who was in that show Families. And boy did they challenge the music scene by making music in their own terms. Eventually this all imploded in 1998 when the and had a fight with The Beta Band on Primrose Hill and Fadge got twatted. Add to that Fadge going missing in 2001, after popping out for a Mars Bar and a copy of the Daily Telegraph, and recently being declared murdered, now is a good time as any to revisit his lost lyrics.

'Put it this way, Oasis are still fucking shit and Chinese Democracy was a 17 year let down. And Kurt Cobain was always a disappointment,' reckons Beagle 2 (an actual Beagle hound), their new manager.

So what does the new album sound like? And what of Fadge's lyrics? Lyrically it's a Nostradamus affair. 'Fadge foresaw the iPhone, Spotify, twitter, Sky Sports News and the resolution to Lost!' laughs the new band mate, Fox Tavern. Celebrity fans of the Revolving Heads include, Bobby Wilson, Luke Haines, Cut Copy, Boards of Canada, Keith Baron and Jonathan King. Having just listened to the new album on infra red 3D headphones travelling to and from Wigan on the 658 service, passing the stop, Barry Westhead used to alight after a day doing his Light Foundation in BTEC music, I can see you're in for a mixed bag of sweets. Here goes:

1. Six Not Sex, Jason
This one's as morbid as finding Maddie, only to discover that its a lost demo of a bearded Jim Morrison, in disguise as Richard Archer. It's a nervous, unpleasant start to the album. Features the line 'That sick pet duck/will be the dearth of me'

2.I Saw Thatcher Have a Fall
Although it's fashionable to write an anti-Thatcher record this track celebrates the fixation some have for seeing leggy women, tripping up, and being in distress. Features a funky James Brown drummer beat and the lyrics 'Get up! Shut up! Geet outta ma piss!'

3. Stringer Bell Has Peter Serafinowicz's Eyes
A kind of Betty Davies eyes for the 90s. This is a shit track but it represents how great Oasis could have been had they been brought up in Germany in the 70s, watched 'The Legend of Tim Tyler', listened to Neu! and been as gay as houses. Features the lyric 'I'm not your spack.'

4. Short Back And Sides
This one's obviously about Jade Goody, Features the manager, Beagle 2, barking and singing 'This one's about Jade Goody.'

5. Kevin Bacon Had a Funny Smile in 'The River Wild.'
A Boards of Canada-esque instrumental that lasts for 6 minutes. It's a charming but discordant samba number, a bit like a bestial Gotan Project/Friendly Fires project that would make Nick Grimshaw immediately want to add you to his list of cool friends.

6. God Hates Fags
This track features a duet with electroclash queen, Miss Kitten. A really chic, slice of French meets New York electro disco gloss, that would makes all the queens in Queens, queeny with envy.

7. I Want Jew
Remember that old Utah Saints track that went 'I want you-ooh-ooh-uh-ooh-uh-ooh'? Well it's like that.

8. Heavy Metal Robot
Yes, it's a cover version. Heaven knows why.

9. I've Scored!
This chunk of genius rock was inspired by the French football shirt that Maxine Carr wore during that whole dead girls spot of bother in Soham. This shimmering track is a beautiful love song, the kind which really captures the feeling where you wake up on a bright and light breezy day, where the air is fresh, there's no bills and death threats on the doormat, the flat's clean, you've just been paid, your novel's been accepted, there's a new car in the car port, Adam and Joe have just made you laugh, that girl you like will probably be in the pub later on hanging on to your every word and witticism, life is good, no-one is dying today, but for some reason you can't explain why, this track ends up sounding like 'Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime' performed by Delphic.

10. Adrien Brody's Big German General's Jacket
This number is very much like the fear of being shot at by Russians. At first you feel warm, secure and protected in your shell, your fingertips dipped in jam, then at about three minutes in, you're in the cold, being accused of being a German and they're shooting at you. 'I accuse you/I abuse you/I'm not your sympathiser/Your Nazi synthesiser!' Sounds quite Scooterish. Stand out track of the album. The best track of 2009-2011.

11. Please be reasonable...and clean these lenses
Another one of Fadge Nostradamus tracks. It's the sonic eqivalent of Michael Douglas's cracked lenses in 'Falling Down', it's the image of the future, not as a boot stamping on a head but a bespectacled dead icon, insulting a rich beautiful Indian model on a reality TV show, with the fearful, doom-laden mantra 'Good for you! Good for you!' ringing out forever more. Our subserviance to this album and to our plight is absolute.

The Boat That Rocked

2009-04-11T13:28:00.000+01:00

Fuck off, Richard Curtis, you boring old bastard. And you look like the Spitting Image puppet of Barry Norman.

Phil Oakey's Electric Dreams Part 6: Science fiction

2009-03-20T00:32:00.002Z

Hi-ya!

Oakey's back. By popular demand. What 'ave yer been up to, then? No seriously, love. Are yer keepin' well? No-one's putting on yer, are they? If they are, Uncle Phil will have a word with 'em. Visitors of old will recall that last year I dispensed loads of advice for yer on computers, pop music and stuff like that. Just look under some old posts for a few of me gems. Why your Blogmaster has chosen to write a piece about Erasure instead of The League is beyond me.

As you may know I haven't been on 'ere in a while because I've been kind of busy, with The League and other things. I've been out wi Richard Hawley, been recording a fantastic song with The Pet Shop Boys ('This Used To Be The Future') on the bonus 'Yes' disc) and I've been working with Little Boots. She's a cracking lass. In fact I've had a right belting time, me. Hey, hey, it seems no-one can resist that Oakey magic these days! But enough about me. Today I want to share with you my true passion. And it ain't pies, lacoste aftershave or the mix CD's I buy every fortnight at HMV in Leeds!

When I were a lad, growing up in a small town in Yorkshire, television was in black and white. Sky + was but a twinkle in the eye of Sydney Youngblood. We were lucky to get two channels in those days, let alone three! Yorkshire TV didn't go live until the early 70s, nor did it go full colour until 1980, and even in those days it were full of Parky and 'Emmerdale Farm', for about three hours a day. I had to make do with rusty books from the mobile library and comics I read in the one decent newsagents just out of town, or whatever I could afford once I saved up some of my wages from me paper round and glass collecting. Course I watched Doctor Who. 'Who' didn't? But they only showed it at the local cinema once a fortnight. I always had a soft spot for Jon Pertwee's version of the timelord. I have vivid memories of watching that episode where the Doctor's mind was taken over by a fruit virus and he had to kill some kids by this old rubbish tip. Classic television!! So I lived and breated books, comics and science fiction films! Anything that made me escape from Yorkshire for a couple of hours a week. I didn't want to grow up in a place where all the ladies over 16 wore rollers and headscarves. From an early age I wanted mystery and glamour and if I couldn't go to a world inhabited with lip gloss, skimpy costumes and wild ideas, I would bring it to Yorkshire meself!

I remember watching 'Logan's Run' and thinking, 'Wow, imagine if shopping centres and discos could really be like that!' 30 odd years later, they are exactley like that! Mad or what? Then when I was about 14 or something, I discovered Dick (That's Philip K., yer dirty dickheads, lol, lol!) That's when my mind and imagination were really expanded, like. All those imaginary worlds, alternative realities, bizarre characters and demented Donna's! I wanted to live inside a Philip K. Dick novel. I wanted to take tons of Chew-Z, or use Ubik and live in a conapt among burning Earth or a hovel on Mars, fly my car across a time distorted city scape, not knowing or giving a shit where I would end up. I suppose this is one of my main influences and why I went into music. With The League. The Human League. One of our missions was to decorate this dull, grey landscape with a shimmering futuristic soundtrack that were a bit rough around the edges, like Kraftwerk but with a flash of Abba. We aimed to celebrate being European and be proud of our Yorkshire roots at the same time.

In 1983 there was this film set in Sheffield called 'Threads' where the whole place was obliterated by nuclear bombs. In 1973 I wouldn't have cared less if it had happened. But what has the future present left us with now? Sky + and 'Dancing on Ice' and Noel Edmonds. It's like living in 1980s East Germany with a smile. It's a world Alan Moore has spent many nights screaming about for hours. You can't walk the streets and eat your pie and mind your own business nowadays without someone from Google or the local council filming it and asking your business. What happened to the days when you couldn't walk the streets for fear of being sexually abused by beautiful groupies and Human League fans? Not a chance, mate.

Right. That's me done, for now. I've got some shirts to iron and some lacoste to dab onto my neck. See yer!

'We'll always be together!'

x

Phil

Album review: Christ Embassy- Conspiracies

2009-03-19T17:12:00.003Z

'It's like nothing you've heard before,' the press release that accompanies an old TDK 46 cassette, states. 'By the time you will have received this, we will all be very dead.' And lo and behold, is it really a myth? Apparently not, if the grainy newspaper cutting, reporting the deaths of four band members with self-inflicted gunshot wounds to the mouths is to be believed. Whatever happens with the fate of the album it's so far the best kept secret within and outside the music industry. The music press won't certainly touch this story and those lucky few like me, who have received the promo cassette, are still left feeling that they have just had a death threat.

So what does the album sound like? Well let's look at the tracklisting and I'll attempt to decode. I was going to put up a piece of music from them but,w e'll, I'll explain later.

1. All The Freud's in All of London Town And I Had To Bump Into You

If Razorlight were formed in the 1920's and were inspired by cheese, Isaac Newton and a bar of soap, then it would sound like this. Features the phrase that will haunt you forever, 'Fandabbidozy, cat features!'

2. Grace Jones Was Behind the 2001 Massarce of the New Yorker

Starts off with a lovely acoustic guitar strum and a refrain which bemoans Nick Hancock, Nick Ross and Nick Owen, before descending into a chaotic 1989 drenched Miss Wet T shirt soakathon. It must be the only song that I've heard this year that features slowed down explosions and the tinny voice of Michael Caine crying over the phone.

3. Suicide Watch

Quite simply it features 18 minutes of sound effects of the clickings of the mouse, pressumably to a website where Welsh emos egg each other on to see who can die the fastest. The song ends with a disappointed yawn.

4. I Blame Jack Bauer

An intriguing dub mix featuring Jack Bauer's famous line's from his work with Captain Birdseye and Rosemary Ford. 'What's on the board Miss Ford?' delivered by Buaer, to the accompaniement of Christian Bale's human beatbox is simply vicious!

5. Knuckleduster

Sadly this is a really disappointing generic, sub-Prodigy, part Oasis number which doesn't do anything for anyone. It's a terrible way to start side 2 after it ended with a weeping Bruce Forsythe.

6. You Might Say That But I Couldn't Possibly Comment

This is a romantic duet between an imagined Keith Baron and Windsor Davies. Features sadism and watersports. It's a sexy, sunkissed, lush soundscape that recalls the Beach Boys experimental album, 'Boards of Xanadu' which was only released in Preston in 1971.

7. Inside We Were All Dead

A true post lifestyle anthem surrounding guilt, lost youth and laughing at the failiures of your old friends, seeing them age, etc It is about two and a half minutes in when the tape chewed up.

Credits.

Written and Produced by Svelt Undsun, Jeremy Irons, McManus McDonald, and Miss Mary Bell.

Rebel diamonds: The Killers at MEN Arena 9,10th March 2009

2009-03-11T15:17:00.006Z

'The emotion it was electric,' sang Brandon over the Caribbean sun drenched 'I can't stay.' (An unlikely favourite of mine from 'Day and Age') And you believed every word. I've never been a religious person but ever since I saw them last week in Birmingham and was lucky enough to bag tickets to see them on two nights in Manchester this week I, my word, I believe in them now. I'm sure I could be forgiven by fans of The Killers for seeing the light in Brandon. In another life he could easily be a faith healer.

'We got our tickets off ebay!' two starry eyed girls at my side said to me. I could believe that. Last year when tickets went on sale there was about three people in our household on the phone for three hours on that Friday morning, with pages of ticket agents on the desktop, only to be told they had 'all' sold out. Hmm.

'The starmaker says it ain't so bad.'

'How does it happen?' I ask myself. What kind of transformation does Brandon go through before he goes onstage at every gig, every tour, every festival? Off stage the poor fragile bloke is a bag of nerves. I want to stick up for him, thump anyone who would cause him harm, and my female companions want to mother him, love him, and have him. Does he hit himself with leaves, does he slap his face in the mirror uttering 'Do it boy, do it Brandon, you can do it again.' Does he chill out with a few Slurpee's, or listen to some Stuart Price remixes? Does he slap in his old Pet Shop Boys 'Discography' cassette? Meanwhile the rest of the band are suitably chilled out as they professionally hammer out the fan favourites during the two different set lists. It's as if they could be in the studio or in the garage rather than an arena with tens of thousands of screaming fans. And boy, do the fans get all the hits. Depending on what night you've attended you're treated to two differing spectacular openings, 'Spaceman' or 'Human', followed by a mix of tracks from the new album, 'This is your life,' The world we live in', I can't stay,' 'Joyride', 'Neon Tiger' along with staple 'oldies', such as 'Mr Brightside,', 'Somebody Told Me,' 'Smile Like You mean it' and well, you know the rest.

Each set list and opening moments equally inspire enthusiastic, hysterical singalongs, bouncing boobs, air-punching and all the rock fan cliche's which are true for a good reason. Throughout, Brandon struts, preens, stands on the amps and knowingly marches along the stage, with determination, claim-staking proficiency and belts his little heart out. In short. Brandon fucking owned us all. And the new extended version of 'For Reasons Unknown'(Beautiful, whimsical butterflies) does actually threaten to raise the 'mother fucking' roof.

The Killers delivered a spectacular show featuring Vegas-like strip lightning, the surely now iconic 'K' stand by Brandon's keyboard, confetti cannon during 'All these things that I've done' and a wall of sparks, pyrotechnics and the general spectacle of Brandon's nod to Manchester's pop icons New Order and Joy Division with their version of 'Shadowplay' on the first night in Manchester and a stirring and devastatingly beautiful acoustic version of New Order's 'Bizarre Love Triangle' on the second and last night of the tour. 'There's no other city I would rather be ending the UK tour in,' said Brandon of his 'spiritual home' 'Come and live here, then!' one was tempted to shout.

As for the MEN Arena, the venue is a good place for doing Mexican waves as we were on Monday night but asking you to pay £3.80 for a pint of weak lager really does take the piss out of the fans goodwill. Some fans walked about with 'I got soul' tee shirts, others 'Are we human?' shirts and you could even buy 'Smile Like You Mean It' toothbrushes. One of the better items, I thought was the poster of the absent band in the desert.

'Would you catch me if I fall?' Brandon once asked a festival audience a couple of years ago. I would, Brandon. Every time. For reasons unknown you've turned a casual fan into a gibbering fan boy. I really should know better. (But there's nothing better) I hope you're proud of yourself.

If you can't hold on for another concert '...hold on.'

Mysteries Unanswered

2009-02-09T18:48:00.002Z

There are so many unanswered questions in this life which we may never know find out the truth, you know such as who killed JFK, is Paul Burrel gay, and what it is that possess people to actually go out and take the trouble to buy a Scouting For Girls record. But here are some more questions, destined to go unanswered.

How does Kirstie Allsop manage to display blatant protctionism, have disappointing inclinations and yet remain slightly fuckable from behind?

Does anyone actually find Mark Dolan entertaining in the slightest? Really though. I mean...really. The Friday Night Project is one thing but for fuck's sake, 'Balls of Steel.' Pranks? It's so 80s, surely.

Why does George Lamb look like he's just vomited? Guilt maybe?

Charlie Brooker, why don't you say what you really think? Scared of offending celebrites, comedians, producers, commissioning editors?

How acceptable is it for the likes of Jess Cartner-Morely to offer credible fashion advice when she looks like a team of dead mice have risen from the dead to dress her, the plum faced bitch?!?

Boris...why are the type of Londoners who vote for things so fucking stoopid? What did we do import the same dicks who actually voted George Bush in?

Nick Grimshaw...why is it that this, and other Primrose Hill tossers are being given contracts to present of so very cutting fucking edge stuff? They all look like arseshitting clones!! AS IF they could be role models for anyone. AS IF.

Internets fads. Now it's the turn of some obese bastard who supposedly looks like a thumb, only he DOESN'T!!!Really where is his fucking thumb nail you dumb assess!!? Hate internet fads. Remember the Rick Rolling one? Oh, how very amusing, tee-hee.

Oh, and one mystery, flash mobbing, the 2002 fad. Are they supposed to be amusing or clever? If so, why are they rather smug seeming? And why...are they sooo shit and disorganised in reality?

Come on! Grow up people!

BEST BEFORE BITTER AWARDS and REVIEW 2008

2009-01-09T17:16:00.002Z

Well another bizarre year in the realms of popular culture last year. Already the arses and so called (don't laugh) 'tastemakers' at the BBC are telling us who we should be listening to, who they are going to make sure are gonna be big and not considering that we can discover our own music, art, film and fun thanks very much. Now then, before I go into my pessimistic phase I'll give you my list of things I enjoyed last year, just to show that I'm not a misanthropic soppy git. In no particular order I enjoyed:

CUT COPY
WALL-E
THE DARK KNIGHT
LINDSTROM
THE KILLERS-HUMAN
SALLY SHAPIRO
ASHES TO ASHES
SPARKS-EXOTIC CREATURES OF THE DEEP
RICHARD HAWLEY LIVE
HEROES (Season 3 obviously)
CHANNEL 4 NEWS (Although it wasn't as good as 2007)
GOLDFRAPP
BLOC PARTY-INTIMACY
MGMT-KIDS
DEAD SET

Didn't do an awful lot of reading or film 'buffing' in 2008 though so...

In 2008 I took a bit of a sabbatical as well so thanks to Phil Oakey for filling my blog with positive lifestyle tips. He may return later this year, we'll see.

As you can expect there were some things in 2008 that I wasn't as keen on and naturally I was at a loss to why anyone would be keen on these things and people so I've decided to give them my own bitter awards which they truly deserve, as a precursor to the pointless awards they'll get anyway. My awards don't recognise or reflect significant achievement or talent, they don't change they world or progress causes, they are just something I put together in the office one day while I was bored. So now it's time for THE BEST BEFORE BITTER AWARDS 2008!!

1. Mildly Annoying Tosser Of The Moment- FAT CHRIS (Gamestation Advertisement)

2. The Lesley Douglas Award For Professionalism, Vision and Foresight- Haringey Council

3. On Yer Bike Award For Cold Hearted Bastard With Thoughtless Policies- James Purnell

4. The 'Tatu' Award for Least Controversial Song and Video of The Year- Katy Perry-I kissed a girl

5. The Woolworths Award For Most Obvious Discount Comedy And The Most Pointless Outdated Pastiche- Peter Kay as Geraldine McQueen.

6. The Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross Quality Control Award For Being a Childish, Bitter, Cuntish Wanker But Generally Getting Away With It and Not Being Suspended, You Bastard-
George Lamb (BBC 6 music, featuring his interview with Ray Davies)

7. The Why Aren't You Funny Award- Kevin Bishop

8. Most Optimistic But Ultimately Pointless Peer Pressure Group-
Get George Lamb off 6 Music

9. Most Disappointing Use of Old Friends and Colleagues Time on Facebooks-Joining very dubious groups and causes, such as vigilante groups. This doesn't make you caring or concerned, it makes you appear rather prehistoric and fick.

10. Prince Philip 'Faux Pas' Award- Boris Johnson. This oaf's whole life seems to have been a faux pas but he can swtich his oafish act off in private many people have noted.

11. The Yes We Can Award for Continual Torture, Murder, Bullying, Starvation and Tyranny- Robert Mugabe

12. I'm Alright But Balls To You Award- Bernard L. Madoff

13. The What It Means To Be British Award- Lapland

Bye.

Best Before Resolutions

2009-01-02T18:03:00.002Z

Hey-ho! Christmas, eh? Didn't it come and go so quickly? So have you snapped up all those bargains yet or are you one of those trembling, sweating, piggerish masses fighting to grab a really generic and bland t-shirt from Primark, like you normally do every other Saturday along with the other gibbering wrecks? Did you panick buy about five loafs of bread this year, you serial greedy mongs, you? Why was your party cancelled? Oh you went to a virtual one instead. How very 2008! Well, well I guess it was an early night after all with the extra blanket and the unread Italo Calvino novel. So what were your highlights? The blizzards? Zavvi and Whittards not so much as going for a Burton but going the same way as Woolworths. Maybe the death of Eartha Kitt stirred up some emotion. No? Surely we're not back to that again! OK, so the weak Sterling isn't nice, I know, I know. I reckon by the end of 2009 all those jokes about left over turkey and the old nags speech will seem somehow nostalgic.

I was only thinking about a month ago how we in Britain lead the way in our promotion and endorsement of disappointment, bitterness and incompetence. We have our very own Joker's to spread chaos and confusion to the masses in its many forms so expect more disappointment, injustices, stupidity, headaches, repressed rages and body numbing depression. but let's be OPTIMISTIC. This is indeed an optimistic place, this blog, and I won't have your tears dripping on my screenshot. I'm going to be the solution, the resolution to your new year. With my guide and resolutions for the coming year, I can guarantee that there will be a smile on your face for more than five minutes at some point in 2009.

RESOLUTIONS

*We must remember that things are NEVER as bad as they seem. When the situation is dire comfort yourself with the fact that at least you don't have toothache.

*Watch 'Mamma Mia' once a week when events feel that they are getting on top of you. Life really can be as good as an Abba song. It won't make the monsters go away and the numbing effect of Meryl Streep in dungarees doing the splits won't pay your bills but you'll be able to appreciate the merits of the real Abba after this abbaration.

*Invest or 'share' the Cut Copy album 'In Ghost Colours'. It will bring joy to your and other people's lives.

* This year, why not, instead of giving up your vices, increase them. Even if you are 72.

*Continue to loathe George Lamb. It's your natural duty.

*Save money in the new year by robbing pensioners and other vulnerable people. Obviously you will find this easier and morally justified, and will get away with it if you are an energy company or an investment banker.

*Continue to despise Andy Burnham.

*Spend 12 months listening to nothing but rare b-sides and obscure 12" singles from the year of our lord 1989.

*Continue to hate James Purnell and his disgraceful overbite!

*Don't be bitter, be defensive. In 2009 be defiant!

*Try hard not to judge your own perceived success or lack of, based upon other people's social networking updates. Life is not a party. There is no triumphant soundtrack, no cool moments where you are portrayed by an actor with a stylish haircut. There is no reprieve or reward for its hero/ego. You are entitled to nothing. Grasp those moments of happiness. They are your special features. They belong to you and you alone and are not up for sale or scrutiny.

*Continue to find Melanie Philips so reactionary, boring, dull, predictable and slightly, only very slightly a bit of an object to imagine what her legs might have looked like in a short skirt in 1980. She would appreciate this no end.

*Complete that novel set in Holland that you have been working on since 1994.

*Continue to promise to yourself and to your friends that you really must meet up with them for a beer, maybe in the half-term, no Easter! No Christmas! Oh, perhaps in three years! No, make it seven. Why not compromise and not make any promises? After all you only live about 5-10 miles from each other. Why should you phone them? Bugger it, wait till you die first. At least you won't have to be arsed going to their funeral and cursing yourself that you should have taken the time to meet up more often than three times in a lifetime.

*Break your resolutions if by any chance you've actually started them.

*Continue to let festering bitterness consume you till eventually one day you've forgotten who you used to be.

*Make a new friend. A real one. Don't collect virtual one's like Pokemon.

*Try and get away for Britain at least twice a year, even if you have to steal your mother's pension book to fund the trip. You won't be surprised how good the physical and psychological distance makes you feel.

*Popularity is overrated. You'll get more results and respect from actually being competent at what you do, in the age of incompetence and cutting corners. Whether it be writing a three minute pop song or masturbating a cyclist down in a park, excel and do it competently.

*Look after your teeth. Then you won't be mistook for a drug addict or a prostitute. You'll go down better in interviews.

*Continue to find Ed Balls a massacre of contradictions.

*Learn a new language every year. This year I'm having a go at Russian and Mandarin.

*Spend one hour every day experiencing/doing something you've never done/ felt before. It can be as pleasurable or as unpleasant as you would like it to be...make sure it's not illegal though and isn't harmful to others. And it shouldn't require a risk assessment.

*Don't watch TV for a year. Go to the cinema and theatre instead. Oh and there's libraries my beautiful proles.

2008-12-14T17:34:00.004Z

You know, wouldn't it be comforting to know that somewhere out there, if someone, some force or entity, supernatural or otherwise was controlling things and keeping watch, and keeping everyone from harm it would in fact be Oliver Postgate? This was certainly the case in the universe of The Clangers, essential night-time viewing these days.

I didn't watch Bagpuss so much although I felt its presence in the corner of the room, snoozing on the family black and white television. It's not only sad to see the passing of a true legend but it's sad when pieces of your past and people from your childhood pass away. Smallfilms will be a little bit smaller for now.

The Peter Principle or Pop! Goes Peter Kay's Career

2008-11-17T17:06:00.004Z

Following yet another DVD of 'recent' material with its unforgettable jokes and his appearances on Michael Parkinson chat show, 'Best Before' can bring you an exclusive extract from Kay's new routine.

Peter Kay: Alternative comedy? Eh? What's that about? Can't be doing wi it! It's all Japanese to me! Remember that song, 'Turning Japanese'? There was this kid at our school who looked Japanese. Remember them?

No laughter.

Garlic bread! Big light! Mr T, eh? Remember that? Mobile discos? It's all mobile phones now innit? Aren't northerners funny? The things they say in our street. Home bargains, eh? What's all that about? Saint and Greavsie? He couldn't stop laughing at Greavsie could our Saint? Remember 12 " singles! They went on FOREVER! Michael Knight , eh? Remember Kitt? He were right snooty weren't he? Remember the 70s? We used to ask Ice Cream man for any broken cornets! 'Hey! Got any broken cornets?' Brass buttons! Best butter! Aren't old people funny? The things they say! You have to speak up!

The silence is deafening. Forever more.

Smirnov: Having had the misfortune to catch Kay's 'Pop Goes The X Factor...' recently it's clear that as many have said, he is just another one trick pony. Sure many critics have claimed that this show largely failed because, well the original target, was far funnier and desperate. Those who enjoyed the show have claimed that it's a bit of fun, and the malcontents just didn't 'get it'. Ah, that old phrase. 'didn't get it.' What's to 'get'? Yes we are aware that it resembled a satire, yes we are plainly simplistically aware of its perceived 'target.'. We know, although it's five years out of date it is a worthy target. But why is it not funny? Why is it not more harsh? I'm sick of toothsome soft comedy. And if the single release from the show 'The Winner's Song' is not supposed to be lapped up by squealing Kaylites, why are they buying it? Is this all part of the satire. 'We hate the X-Factor but what the hell...might as well get the single and DVD?' Don't those fuckers 'get it'!?

As you can guess I've never been a fan of this sacred cow, although I can acknowledge when my arm's been twisted, that Phoenix Nights does have it's moments. To me that's where Kay could work. He can clearly play comic characters to some average and competent extent when the material is well written, 'Max and Paddy' aside. But he'll never be Peter Sellers. You have to wonder if there is anything new, progressive and original in there. Especially his stand up stuff. What's left after all the observational stuff about the 80s, old adverts, music, big lights and garlic bread? Like the X-Factor which is very much a parody of itself, will the same fate await Kay? Will there be an endless season of Peter Kay stand-up at the Bolton Albert Halls, a one man tribute to himself, a kind of low level Elvis in Vegas where night after night Kay just recounts his weary gags night week after week, until someone does us all a favour and knocks down the Bolton Albert Halls and the council it's attached to, just to give us some peace? I'm already tired of Kay trying to create historic chat show moments by being prickish on Parky. I can't bear to think that there'll be more. I can't bear it. But that's not all. You too can re-experience his wit time and time again with the announcement of yet ANOTHER DVD Christmas release of 'Special K', a compilation of old material, Parky appearances and the naff Geraldine McQueen skit, accompanied by his shit eating gurn. It's good to be the Kay.

Electric Dreams Part 5: Phil Oakey goes shopping!

2008-11-13T20:14:00.003Z

Hi-ya!

I love shopping, me. Always loved it, ever since my first visit to Wigan Centre Arcade in 78. I remember marvelling at the then futuristic escalators ferrying people to and from the delights of D/E/R and the Gas showrooms. The lights and glass. It was like I was inside 'Logans Run' or something. You know, some people have problems with shopping malls, especially these days but I think they're fascinating places. They still bewitch me today. They attract all the dregs, the alienated, the deluded, the fashionatas, the wannabe's, the lost and loose...it's basically a patchwork of post 20th century society. (Christ I sound like I've been at the Yorkshire booze again!) In fact me and the girls wanted to record the lost Abba song, 'I am the city' in 93. We never did though. Couldn't be arsed.

When I was growing up there was nowt around. Most pubs were full of old blokes drinking pints o' mild and the town centre was full of butcher's, fishmongers and rolling fruit and veg stalls. Older generations often moan when a big supermarket is built over a stadium or a field but they're the first one's through the door when it opens. When the shopping centre in Leeds was modernised sometime in the late 70s, early 80s it was as if someone had dropped a piece of New York into the place. It was like going from three channels on TV to about a thousand! It would no longer be like 1962 everyday! Now when I go into Leeds every fortnight to get me mix CD's, a few science fiction DVD's and a couple of mags I like it. It's like I'm still going out with me pocket money and buying the things I've earned the right to buy. I do miss the old 12" singles it has to be said but what can yer do? The last DVD's I bought were 'The Ghost Whisperer', 'Supernatural', the last season of 'Doctor Who' and season one of 'Ashes To Ashes'. I lap 'em all up, me! Magwise I buy 'Dreamwatch' and 'Word' magazine.

As for Crimbo shopping, I'm not so keen wi' it. All those people panic buying bread and milk just for one soddin' day. Doesn't make sense to me. It sickens me actually. All the crap that goes to waste because a few piss pots with eyes bigger than their bellys, wi wallets more packed than their heads, don't give a fuck. It isn't fucking 'Threads' you know. Even when there's more than a few times when you pray it was. You practically will the apocoplypse.

This will be my last entry till 2009. I've got a tour and a new album to concentrate on for now. I'd like to thank Smirnov Kool for offering me a place to vent, give advice and to talk about stuff and to Richard Hawley for giving 'Louise' a new lease of life with Tony Christie. You should buy his album, 'Made in Sheffield' It's boss. Lastly thank you to all the visistors of this blog for making me feel right welcome. As Arnie said, 'I'll be back...believe it baby...' or something like that.

We'll always be together.
x

Phil

Philip Oakey's Electric Dreams Part 4: Technology

2008-10-19T20:19:00.008+01:00

Hi Ya!
Been a while, 'an't' it? I've been rehearsing with the League for a tour in November/December. I want to talk to you about computers and technology. I'll try my hand at anything me, cooking, surfing, swimming and driving, even pie eating but technology and me don't mix that much. Just because I know my way around a synth or two you'd be forgiven for thinking that I'd be well into computers. Wrong!

Like most of yer us simple Yorkshire folk still get wound up big time by computer viruses, printer problems and internets. For this blogsode I'm gonna do my best to give you clinical, Human League advice on how to tackle problems with yer computers and wi new technology in general. This blog entry has been programmed with you in mind. The solutions normally sort my problems out.

FISHING
You might see this term misspelt as 'phishing'. But it's wrong. Because it's actually people who email you and 'fish' for information such as your bank details, birthdates, phone numbers and star signs. Nowt to with 'Ph'. It's FISH.

Solution. Tell them to fuck off. Send a virus to them. Then do what my mate calls a 'system restore'.

Computer Hijacks
I'm not suggesting for a minute that someone's gonna make your computer fly itself to Libya or throw itself at a building. But some sad bastard from Malayasia, Moscow or Miami, some low-life with spots, bad wind and no girlfriend have the technology to take over your compewters and can easealy direct your broswrs to porn sites, casinos or even dick about in your blog accounts making you slpell fings wrong cause phil oakley is a bastard...Don't worry you haven't been hacked. I was just joking. Course I know how to spell. And I'm not really a bastard.

Solution. System restore. Or go to download.com. There are things there. You baSAtards.

Viruses/Worms
These little bastards, once in your system are difficult to flush out. You can drink as much water as possible and take loads of headache tablets but the virus is still there, hiding away, and messing up your insides. Now I'm told if you reinstall your computer it pretty much has the same effect. I've had to replace a few computers because of these monsters. Some of you will be aware that it's these so called anti-virus firms that offer the solution. That's kind of like some drug pusher offering able get your kids off smack.

Solution. Invest in an Apple Computer. And Don't take smack.

GUITAR HERO
Don't get me started on this. I'm sick of hearing about it. I blame Guitar Hero for the spate of dinosaur rock acts infecting the album charts and the television. I blame Guitar Hero for the shite that's Nickelback or Kid Rock. Where's the fun in mauling a plastic thing and getting some screeching, unrestrained notes out of it? How rock n roll is a computer game for kids anyway? Can't imagine a 'Punk Hero' or 'Vocal Hero' or 'Porn Hero' meself. What about 'Synth Star'? Thought not. Face it, Guitar Hero is karaoke for failed rock stars. It's shit as well.

iPhone
i know. It's been out for ages. Haven't got one. Well...all right. I have. Fuckin' love it. Don't know how to work the thing or make calls...but it can time my egg for me.

Wii
Old news. I've been hearing of folk getting 'wii elbows'. Honest to God. On Sarah Palin's life! Fraid it's a bit like Guitar Hero for me this white rabbit. I did pop into Leeds a month ago and pick myself one up. But it's a lot of nonsense, not as infectious or romantic as Ping Pong or Asteriods. That's the problem with computer games culture it's taken youth culture out of the amusement arcades. They were great places to meet up, date girls, have a smoke, tap your mates for cash and ask the lady at the change counter for a coffee! And you could listen to the latest pop songs by The Human League.

Well that's it for today. I'm off to Zavvi in Leeds. Well tomorrow. When it's open. If it's not raining.

Philip Oakey is currently listening to Neon Neon's 'Stainless Style' album. He has also provided the song 'Louise' for Tony Christie's forthcoming album 'Made in Sheffield'.

For more info about the tour
http://www.nme.com/news/human-league/40523

Martin Creed: Work Shy

2008-10-05T18:35:00.003+01:00

I like art, its meaningless, its sincerity, how it evolves, devolves, explores, implores, holds up mirrors, smashes them to pieces, distorts time, space and place, distrusts, confesses, rejects, confronts, entertains and enlightens. I love it. Honest. I like art when it's beautiful, when it's ugly, how it can arouse or molest the senses. I've seen it in Rothko, in Gormley, with Hopper, Caulfield among quite a long list of others...but I've yet to feel anything significant about Martin Creed, particularly in his recent installation Work 850. I wasn't exactly endeared when I came across Work 227: Lights going on and off. I'll allow Channel 4's Jon Snow and Nicholas Glass to take up the background, for those of you who have been buried under Martian ice.

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1529573111?bclid=1640055074&bctid=1640111623

I'm not the first and I won't be the last to stake the claim that Creed comes across as a lazy, self-indulgent, bullied, cop out, that his work embodies everything that is just plain wrong about The Turner Prize and all those 90s Brit artists that were fashionable for about two hours. I just find his work mediorce. Why the press interest? Why the hype? I can see that, beyond, the lack of concept, there is something vaguely intriguing, if not unoriginal, about people running through art galleries like arseholes, especially if they are pretentious artists being chased by masked knife men.

If this project had been conceived by someone else, say Bob Champion or Mary Decker, then it would have some mileage. But from the prism of Creed's psyche, and we know he has form, you get the understandable inkling that his cynical, smug, bad judgement has got the better of him again. It feels as if he gives most of his projects about 5 seconds thought while he's on the bog, which incidentally, I reckon he rather enjoys a bit too much.

It's OK to evolve, Martin! Try it someday. He should do a video installation, a self-portrait called Being Repeatedly Punched In The Face.

BEST BEFORE USA: You The Jury

2008-09-26T16:50:00.004+01:00

I'm on my way back from the land of the free, having secured two more interviews with two more of the US's contributions to popular culture. In this final episode I managed to catch up with Judge Judy and star of 80s sit-com, Different Strokes, Gary 'what you talkin' bout Mr D' Coleman.

First up, all rise for Judge Judy.

On accusations that her show is nothing but smoke and shadows
Baloney! You got that. Bal-on-ey!

On Judge John Deed
You kiddin' me? I don't get it. Judge John Deed. You blowin' smoke up my ass? I don't get it. It's a joke right?

On Charlie Bucket
You stole fizzy lifting drinks! You bumped into the ceiling which has to be washed and sterilised! So you LOSE! You get NOTHING! Good day sir!

On the Golden Girls
Ssh...ssh.. listen up! I ain't no golden girl, dumb ass! I never been on that dumb show, got that?

On Justice
You want the death penalty then you flick the switch! Go ahead sunshine! Knock yourself out!

On me and my blog
Get a job, punk! What! You mean to say people actually read this stuff? They don't? Take my advice tough guy, you wanna be a big shot, then watch your mouth! Zip it! Security!

I was then escorted away from the hotel lobby.

Gary Coleman. The Starbucks Years.

On Fame
You know...it's one thing being that cute freakshow kid on TV in the 80s but I gotta live too. I have a life. I gotta bring home the bacon. Even when the pigs are laughing at me.

Whatchatalkin'bout...
I kinda hate that thing. I can still make five hundred bucks everytime I say that phrase but you know...Mr T makes more cash than I do...and now they get someone else to pretend to be me for cell phones. You want me to say it, dontcha? You don't? C'mon, man! Here's the deal...a hundred bucks and I'll say it here and now, right in this shopping mall...C'mon! Tell ya what! Special discount...five bucks...just five bucks...Whass the matter...c'mon! I need this. I really need this. Where you at?

(By now I've grown bored and vacant so I take my leave)
Sorry Gary, I have a plane to catch.

BEST BEFORE USA: Millan Dollar Man

2008-09-17T17:30:00.006+01:00

Continuing with our US edition of Best Before December, today we caught up with Cesar Millan of The Dog Whisperer fame to ask him for his views on the state of America, Sarah Palin, cats, Lacoste and the American race for President.

On The New World Order
It's like Planet of the Apes, you know...but one day, as sure as I am of the beard on my face, the new world order shall come. Dogs will be our masters and we will all have to be kept on a leash.

On Sarah Palin
You know, pit bull's shouldn't wear lipstick. Her temperament is all wrong. She needs to learn respect the hard way. Then one day she could get her rewards and join the pack of dogs in the White House. Maybe. Til then her master has to be brave and put a muzzle over her stupid yankee mouth.

On Cats
They should be exterminated. They are cold, selfish, verminous creatures. You know, they distract the Canines in a way that I don't like. You can't domesticate them, you know? Cats are not smart , funny or cute. Their owners have no control or self-discipline. They're a bit strange, no? I guess they brought Aids into this world.

On religion
God is a dog, no? Think about it. (Cesar beams for a long time)

On Lacoste
Lacoste is my friend. Lacoste doesn't judge. I never wear the same shirt for than one day in my life. If I could never buy Lacoste I would kill something.

Eating habits
If you wanna be the natural pack leader you have to eat from the same bowl as your dogs. You have to live like a dog to conquer the divine species. I do this all the time. Dogs.

Obama/McCain
You know, I'm not so sure they are brave enough to make the US a state of Mexico. Don't think they are ready for that challenge. I hope I live to see the day when the future president of the United States is a German shepard dog or a Beagle. In Mexico.

On the near future
I can't see myself doing ths forever. Something's calling me, you know, to the wild. I see the sunset of my life being the leader of a pack of wolves...in the mountains...before I am killed by a silver bullet one careless winter day...

BEST BEFORE USA: Bunnel of a gun

2008-09-14T00:41:00.004+01:00

For the next couple of posts America's cultural icons give us an overview of what it means to be an American in the Election year, and importantly, what they would do if they were the President of the USA. We start with Sheriff (Retired) John Bunnel.

On Religion
That slammer in the sky is sure gonna be full come the day of Judgement.

On Security
What concerns me, when I lock up my car, or say goodnight to my kids, are punks, tramps, hobos, homos, yakking liberals and commies. Every country in the world has issues with shankings, ammo sandwiches, Jesus juice and abortions but how many 'o these crazy 'lil places would be man enough to put Tasers under their child's pillows at night, or give them a darn cold Uzi to pack into their luncnbox for their first day at Junior High, huh?

On fame
In the US, 'celebrity' is a dirty word right now. But try tellin' that to the lowlife's who come up to me and bug me for my autograph's, only to mistake me for that Frankenstein guy outta 'The Munsters'! Go figure!

McCain or Obama
Would you guys be comfortable voting for a guy who's name rhymes with Osama?I ain't met a soul who disagrees with me. I know what box I'll be checking, and if you're in any doubt where my loyalty lies just come and take a look in my refrigerator. What does it say on my packet of fries, huh? Can you see it? McCain. Everytime!

Guiltiest pleasure
Shooting pool with Hilary Clinton. Man that gal's got good eyes!

How do you relax?
I kinda get a kick outta chasing punks on the freeway in my helicopter and then goin' back to my crib an' layin' down some cold, hard freestylin' rhymes! My favourite line is 'that good kid gone bad is gonna be a dead punk well done'.

Sheriff John Bunnel has not approved this message.

(Phil Oakey is rehearsing with the Human League. He'll return in a couple of weeks-Ed)

Balls to you!

2008-09-07T13:46:00.003+01:00

I don't normally DO politics. But this prick might as well be the Jack Straw that broke the camel's back. Nothing personal but it's the last (Jack) Straw for this pantheon of sterile, hateful, spineless, grey pieces of crap that have fucked the country in the arse and proceeded to defend their back door totalitarian manifesto.

To be fair he's probably no more awful than the Milliband's, the Hewitt's, the Hodge's, the Blears', the Smith's and the Burnham's. The jury is out to whether he's more awful than James Purnell, and all the other sixth form simpletons that make up this weak excuse for a government. Let's be under no illusion as to the opposition. They are no more relevant. David Cameron has realised he best stands a chance by his own pale imitation of New Labour. I'm sure the Tories will get in not on their own merits but because New Labour are so fucking piss poor!

But with Balls...I don't know. Something cuts deeper. I've always found that man deeply, deeply unpleasant. It's not that he would look like a Nazi if his terrible hairstyle was shaved off, it's not the disdainful way he comes across in interviews when he's losing always losing the arguments. His defensive and aggressive nature are behind his eyes when challenged with reasonable questions. Unlike most New Labour MP's, who shrug off questions with irrelevant and patronising statistics and untruths, Balls has that twinkle of murder in his eyes as he tries to maintain his dignity. I don't like it. I wouldn't be surprised if it was discovered that he'd beaten up women or bullied old people. I don't like his ass kissing of Gordon Brown. I hate his speeches, his pretentious language. I don't want a future where Ed Balls' visions of education has come to pass. I don't TRUST him. I want him out. There's something creepy about him as well. I don't want him coming to my school and asking me boring questions that not even he cares about, such as 'Do you kids ever self-harm in your spare time?'

Even if we were to discount his lack of charisma, as with the above politicians, he still has no substance or progressive argument. He's no more than an automaton. Essentially that is what kind of society this government wants, and what kind of government they want. In their hands your lives are nothing but casinos.

Philip Oakey's Electric Dreams Part 3: Sex and Relationships

2008-08-17T22:50:00.002+01:00

Hi-ya! Now then. How are yer? Not so bad, eh? I wouldn't normally do this unless you were my niece or nephew but for the benefit of this episode I'd like you to call me Uncle Phil, right? Because I'm gonna be your agony uncle for the next few hundred and odd words.

Here's some quick advice. Forget all that stuff in girly glam mags. They know nowt about relationships much less about sex. All that lot weren't brought up wi Ready Brek and Marmite like us normal folk. They're staffed by test tube babies, spinsters, common lesbians amd saturday girls. Trust me. I'm a popstar! Been there, done it, got the scars and cheap t-shirts to prove it. There's not much that you haven't seen in a cheap porno that I haven't done in me time, I can tell yer. As for love affairs well I've had my heart broken on the four corners of the globe in different time zones and it ain't been too pretty. I've written about love, obsession, sex...sung about 'em. When I stepped out to perform 'Don't You Want Me' in '81 I fucking lived it! So today I'm gonna answer some of the questions I often get asked about relationship issues, and help sort your love lives out.

1. MY FELLA'S A BIT OF A PONCE. SHOULD I SEND HIM PACKING?

Well, love. Some folks used to say I was a bit of a ponce in my youth what wi me make-up and that... but let me tell yer...I soon had a nice surprise for the more curious of them in the bedroom! If some of those bedsits in Leeds could talk! No, but seriously you have to look deeper. Folk are complex things. Does he put shelves up for yer? Does he like a pint and a pie with the lads once in a while at the Sheffield match? There you go then! I'll think you'll find, love, that down south 'ponce' means something completely different entirely and I'm sure we wouldn't judge you on this basis, would we?

2. I'M A BIT WORRIED THAT I CAN'T PLEASE THE MISSUS...AS I DON'T HAVE WHAT IT TAKES. DOES THIS MAKE ME ANY LESS OF A BLOKE?

Don't be daft. I've met blokes who can't hold a snooker cue or cricket bat properly. It's like owt else. You need practise...lots of it...and an understanding wench who doesn't laugh at yer, who you can trust completely. If she laughs at yer, chuck her and get a bird who is totally open, honest and can share a pint and a pie wi. Get some practice, mate, and don't be afraid of getting yer yed down once in a while. You'd be surprised what she'll do for you in return.

3. I'VE ALWAYS WANTED A THREESOME BUT I'M NOT SURE MY WIFE WOULD BE UP FOR IT. WHAT CAN I SAY TO PERSUADE HER?

You're not missing much. Nothing's ever good as it's cracked up to be in reality. The guilt, the regret, the shame and feelings of inadequacy never really go away. Use your imagination instead. It's safe, it's discreet, it's clean, and with regards to prospective partners, well, the world's your oyster alive or dead. Just the other day I had a threesome with Steffi Graff and Dr Miriam Stoppard. It were different!

4. I THINK I'M ATTRACTED TO SOMEONE OF THE SAME SEX. I FEEL A BIT REPULSED.

The only member of the same sex I've ever fancied was yours truly when I once caught my reflection in the dressing room mirror in 1980 before I was due onstage. I felt no guilt or shame about it at all...and let's face it, most of my sex life, like many blokes, has been spending many a night and day playing pocket billiards...and that's far from repulsive. I don't care who you are, where you are, what you are, what you're supposed to believe and how you're told to feel, you can't change nature or who or what turns you on. No two ways about it. Human nature.

5. IT'S MY FIRST DATE NEXT WEEK. I'M NERVOUS. ANY ADVICE. I REALLY LIKE THIS BOY BUT I DON'T WANT TO MESS IT UP. WHAT IF HE ASKS FOR A KISS?

Relationships and dates aren't always about shagging and blow jobs. Whatever you do, whether you're a boy or girl, gay or straight, is to make your partner feel good about themselves. You don't have to have money or as my old mate Jermaine Stewart once said, take your clothes off to have a good time. Make 'em something to eat now and again, like a butty with a cuppa. Do something nice for them like pick them up ten Bensons from the seven o'clock shop. Take them for a walk somewhere nice like the Trafford Centre. Don't tell 'em you care. SHOW them!

As for first dates, well, greet them with a peck on the cheek at the start, get all that nervous tension out your system. If they wanna go further and you're comfortable wi it, then take it slowly. Maybe you could bring each other a little bag of sweets, like some jelly babies or a packet of Mentos, or make them a mixtape of your favourite Human League tunes. Little things like that will go a long way. In most cases first dates never lead anywhere so don't worry too much, just have a nice day out. You'll meet the right person when you least expect it.

As for those of you who have had it up to here with relationships and all that palava, or don't ever think you'll meet anyone and will spend your days being lonely, well, just think of the cash you can save, and it'll mean you have extra time to go into Leeds every fortnight to buy some mix CD'S.

See yer!

NEXT TIME: Phil Oakey solves your computer problems.

Bored Bitch

2008-08-03T22:09:00.002+01:00

I've always found Melanie Philips (pictured) for any number of reasons a bit of a bore. Haven't you? Why not tell her? http://www.spectator.co.uk/melaniephillips/

Philip Oakey's 'Electric Dreams' Part 2: Drugs

2008-07-31T21:20:00.003+01:00

Hi-ya. Old muggins is back. I've been commissioned by Smirnov Kool, to write a regular lifestyle feature for this blog. He says he can't be arsed as much these days because no fucker wants to read it, and they don't have much time to read it because they'd rather spend all of five seconds from their small, unimportant lives, updating their status' on social networking websites, and learning very little in general about other people and subjects, because they're so obsessed with themselves...(Phew!)

Any road! If some of you are still here after that propaganda plug...I said I'd do this because I don't do nowt these days. Me and the girls only tour every chrimbo with The League. Now on to today's feature...

Last fortnight when our swords crossed I gave thi boss advice about making it in the cruel world of pop music. Well, now that's under your belt, and by now, you've realised that it's pointless and your tiny minds have turned to the promises of escapism that drugs have in store for you...you'll find this piece about de-toxing is aimed at you. This is free advice so don't come running to me if the shit hits the fan.

I was thinking about drugs the other day actually. In the old days it was your dinosaur rock acts, queens and celebrities that used to drop acid, mess about with charlie and angel dust. Now they're everywhere! And they have all sorts of names but we won't get bogged down in all that fluff. Drugs have come out of nightclubs and into our playgrounds. And they're not just pushed onto us by blacks and Asians anymore. There's a new enemy on the block. Parents have become the new pushers. I nearly choked on my pie the other day as I was reading about it. That's right. Parents are giving this crap to their kids now. Don't believe me? You don't have to. It was in all the papers. They're getting the good shit in lunch boxes. I tell yer! It's a right sinister sight, seeing those poor little shits getting out of the four wheel drives, their mummy's and daddy's sending them on their way with a couple of bags in their lunch boxes. They pick 'em up after school a couple o' tonnes richer, thanks very much. It saddens me, seeing all those posh kids pumping, pimping the poor kids from the estates full of booze, piss, bongos and kems. I'm wi Ian Brown on this. He texted me 'tother day to ask what's wrong wi our beautiful world. So I'm opening my heart.

ADDICTION

Let me tell yer! I had a bad do wi Yorkshire tea donkey's years ago. At one point during the making of the 'Octopus' album I was doin' about 18 bags a day!! So I KNOW more than most what it's like to be an addict. It's in your bones. No good trying to scrub it away...it won't move. It's society's stain...it's nature's stain and the cloth you need to scrub off the muck is your patience. That's why I'm pointing my finger at you now! Yeah, you there, staring in your laptop, you sad bastard. Get a bloody new life! It's not easy to stop, is it? If you've an addictive personality you'll latch onto something, whether it's collecting world cup 1982 panini football stickers or, like I do, going into Leeds every fortnight to buy a mix CD or a Doctor Who DVD EVERY TIME I fancied a cuppa. It soon sorted me out. I suggest you find something to replace the addiction. I don't care what reason you have to turn to your vices, just use something else to escape. I suggest you lot listen to a Human League album or something before you get smacked up and eventually end up soiling yourself in Sainsbury's or knifing a face in Boots.

There's loadsa types of addictions. People shop too much, eat too much chocolate, get pissed up on booze, smoke, fist fight, slap their wench about, wank off, vomit, give blood, back the hounds, sleep too much. I know one poor fucker who's addicted to driving lessons. Honest to god he keeps failing his tests! Mad or what?

Sometimes people stop me on the street and say all sorts of things. You know like, 'Phil, when are we gonna get a new album from The League?' or 'Oakey! Where did you get those boots from?' 'Tother day this old bidy says to me, 'Do you think stinking drugs should be legalised?' And I'll tell yer now what I told her. When I stepped out to perform 'Don't You Want Me?' on Top of The Pops, do you think I was off my face on coke and chips? I don't want my kids growing up with smackheads and methodone toothfaces teaching them, pushing them on swings, fathering them, serving them, doctoring them, policing them, entertaining 'em, registering them, billing 'um...Not just MY kids. YOUR kids. Sheffield's kids! Dawlish's kids, Darwin's kids, Bristol's kids, Dublin's kids, Dusseldorf's kids, Harrison Ford's kids. I don't feel good about being managed by a Prime Minister off his rocker on ketamine substitute. If you can't make your own entertainment and get high on life on a good pop record, or a cuppa and a pie then what is the point?

I want the person who operates on my son's brain to have a steady hand and fresh breath, thanks very much. If you don't mind leave the illegal substances to the popstars and piss artists on the edges of today's society. Because they are sure in hell not role models in the Oakey household. Not in my book.

'We'll always be together.'
x
Phil

Next Time: Sex and relationships

Philip Oakey's 'Electric Dreams' Part 1: Pop Music

2008-07-18T20:39:00.008+01:00

You probably know me as the lead singer of the popular synth pop/new wave/post punk band known as The Human League. In my new regular column I hope to be giving all kinds of advice from how to get ahead in the world of pop music, cookery ideas, sorting out your love life and dealing with your computer problems.

Before I give you an introduction on how to put a match to the charts and watch it burn to the sound of your crowd let me tell you a bit more about me. I love pop music, I do. I live and breathe pop music. And I love technology. I won't even think of starting the day and getting out of bed unless I've had a good dollop of mp3s on toast. Then I get on the bus with me iPod and nod ma yed to some right good playlists I've compiled, like 'Music to Wait For The Bus To' or the classic, 'To Imagine What It's Like Not To Be Me.' When I'm not bathing in pop music, having sex to it, or making it, I love going into Leeds once a fortnight and getting me mix CD's and Doctor Who DVD's. In the late 70s, early 80s I used to knock about with local lad John Foxx. I bumped into him the other day as a matter of fact. We shared a pint and a joke as we recalled the time we talked about forming an Ultravoxx/Human League spin off project but couldn't agree on the name. My camp wanted John League and Foxxy wanted Human Foxx. It almost came to blows, so we decided to leave it, and made up with a packet of biscuits and Yorkshire tea. Shame, we could have made a couple of top selling discs.

You don't need me to tell you how shit the charts are as you must be aware. I mean, come on, who the fuck are the Arctic Rolls?! Back in the 80s synth pop and new wave dominated the charts like Nazi Germany. It wasn't unsual for a top ten to feature OMD, Kraftwerk, Soft Cell, Japan, Ultravoxx, and us of course...often at the same time. Many people say 'well your music is cold. People want fun and good times. They don't want to think. Thinking is for boring people'. Of course this is bollocks but you try living under Thatcher's iron fist. She practically did her best to club all the thought out of our tiny Northern minds in those days. But I don't want to get political here, the bloke who keeps this site is already doing a job of buggering that up already! But there will be a change and in anticipation of this I thought I'd use the wealth of my experience in this shit business in helping you carve a career in proper pop music or Propop, as I have just decided to call it right this minute. Let me finish me pie and I'll carry on...

Right I've had me pie now, let's crack on...

ATTITUDE/IMAGE

When I stepped out to perform 'Don't you want me?' on Top of The Pops in 1981 I became the central hard done by character in the song. People think it was autobiographical but that was rubbish. Same goes for the girls. People ask me 'Phil, are they really that bored and slaggy in real life?' They're lovely. Trust me. I took loads of leads, mainly from Bowie and Diana Ross, on how to build an aura around my stage presence. Even though I have respect for bands like Abba, we didn't DARE smile or show much emotion. Let your audience fill in the blanks. You can still be a popstar without acting the goat and pretending life is all flowery, about cars, champagne and girls. Cars kill people and cause injury, brain damage and disfigurement. Flowers can cause allergies. Champagne can lead to binge drinking. You see what I'm saying? Appearences can be deceptive, but start with some sense of realism. And don't make the mistake that Sting once made when he went on stage with half a packet of Bovril flavoured crisps. Those kind of errors tend to leave a bad taste in the mouth, take my word for it.

It's like in interviews, you don't have to be polite if you don't feel like it. If you've got nothing intelligent to say or your opinions are a bit simple just keep your mouth shut. Believe me people will love you for it. They'll think you're mysterious and intelligent. If you are a brain box then keep it to yersel'! Educate your fans without giving yerself away. Reference Lynch, Kubrick, Goddard, Fellini, reference, Burroughs, Ballard, Dick, reference Bacon, Dali, Escher, Rothko, reference Stokhausen, Cage, Throbbing Gristle and the rest of it without saying owt...but also add a few popular culture references to show that you haven't lost touch with the general public. Check out my song, 'These Are The Things That Dreams Are Made Of.' It's a knockabout song about the simple pleasures in life. Smashing. It's always fun to speak in metaphor or give glib answers. I've always wanted to go into interviews imaging how Samual Beckett would answer questions. If you can do this without giving too much information about yourself than a successful career in pop or politics is only months away.

There is a lot to be said for the phrase 'Too much information.' I'm always saying it. For example-

Fan. Hey Phil you're looking a bit rough.
Me. Too much information.
Fan. I'm a bit rough mesel'...my stomach's playin' up!
Me. Too much information.
Fan. Oh yeah...haven't told yer...our Maureen's had her baby, it's-
Me. Too much information!

Pop stars should also look like popstars. And some of them, to some extent, do, but a new wave artist should look more glamourous and sexy like the character Pris from 'Blade Runner'. Or Davros. But a lot of artists nowadays look so ordinary that you could take them home to steal a couple of quid off your mother after she's just had the courtesy to offer you a couple of Mr Kipling cakes and tea. A popstar shouldn't look like they could blend in at Starbucks or in a queue at the cinema for the latest US Romcom. Like I used to, they should look otherworldy, or like Bowie (again), as if he's come from Mars, if Mars were able to support some form of human life. It's all so safe and sugary these days. Everyone wants to look like a 12 year old. Take Rhianna or Girls Aloud or even My Chemical Romance? Can you imagine sleeping with them? It'd be like taking the virginity of a nun, by force. You want a kind of anti-glamour of someone who looks as if they've beent through it (without the mankiness of Doherty), they have a brain which means imaginaiton and creativity, which means that they are likely to fulfill the dark recesses of your twisted sexuality. Just ask yourself who would you rather lose your virginity to? Someone like Kate Bush, Alison Goldfrapp, Shirley Mansun, Siouxsie Sioux. Or someone like Carol Vorderman? Dying your hair black, wearing a black t-shirt with a retro/ironic slogan, black eyeliner, lipstick, boots and fishnets isn't a passport unless you can back it up with the noggin. Not in my book, pals. You can go round Sheffield or any town today and see these goth/emo kids and I just point and say 'TTH' which means Trying Too Hard. Because they do. Develop your own look and your own ideas. When I wrote 'The Sound of the Crowd' it was about being part of a clique that no-one else cared about. These days cliques are the mainstream, drowned by mediocre sub-Nirvana's, sub-Green Day's, sub-Smashing Pumkins and the like. If you want to use an influence use the orginal sources rather than the photocopies, because every generation loses something when constantly reproduced. Just think of it like this. Would you rather eat a decent Yorkshire pudding or a photocopy of it? Because it's the same difference, I don't care what you say. Mix it up, mess around with people's expectations. But be subtle. Look at the artwork and imagery that surround 'Client'. Compare the subtle use of leg fetishism, without all these not so subtle sexism of pop videos about jocks and shaking fat arses for the grotesque hip hoppers with all the bling. You could look at these vile videos as empowerment but to me these patronising showreels are a retarded view of the world, and it disappoints me. It sickens me actually. Which leads me to...

ORIGINALITY

I was watching The Hits the other night and this song comes on by Sean Kingston. I tell you, I couldn't finish my pie. It put me right off it. How you can rape a song like Stand By Me is beyond me, and while I'm not adverse to sampling in music, I have to say that this fella needs to go before The Hague and answer to charges against crimes against humanity. His voice alone is enough to inspire murder. But isn't all this, the sound, the boring lyrics and the vocals all just part of this trend for true clean cut, easy listening these days? All the lasses sound the same. They want to warble like Alicia Keys, that lass out of Sugababes, and Mariah Carey. The lads want to affect Irish whines like that Fall Out Boy and Green Day (them again). They get it off each other, off TV, off talent shows.

I had me own voice, so did Mark E. Smith, Jarvis Cocker, Andy Bell, Marc Alond, loads of us. You might have not liked each one but it was part of the character of the band. If you're thinking of forming a band because you want to sound just like someone else, with the same lyrics, style and themes then give up now if you want to achieve credibility. Kraftwerk may have sung about calculators and robots but at least its placed them in the position of being one of the most influencial bands of all fucking time. Don't get me wrong, I love the acts who like to redefine their influences like Client, Goldfrapp, Ladytron and Fischerspooner but apart from me Mix CDs I listen to experimental music. I've got this interesting CD called 'Conversations With Rice and Coulter' by The Digestive System and for 70 minutes it features nowt but the sound of vomiting. Very thought provoking.

I think that's about it for now. You've got a chance to succeed in this climate of conservative music. Educate yersel'! Decent stuff. Think for yersel'! Get out there and explore, read, live...do the opposite to your mates and what the TV tells yer! Don't think about being cool. Cool people don't tell you you're cool. Work it out for yersel'!

'We'll always be together'

x
Phil

The Cult of The Clique

2008-06-30T23:44:00.002+01:00

I am a member of a very unique clique. This clique doesn’t conform to any dress code or gather its members around regular events. We don’t discriminate based on age, racial, cultural grounds or beauty. We don’t pretend to be a haven for the alienated, bewildered, the outsiders and those who were considered geeky and nerdy at school. We refuse to pretend that we’re something that we are not. We’re not interested in the likes of Oscar Wilde, Marquis de Sade or Byron. We don’t follow the literature of Kafka or indeed any figurehead. We’re not misunderstood because we want to be but because we make no sense. Although we say we don’t impose any rules on membership, this is a lie. We discourage outrageous dress sense and outlandish make up. If we have any taboos it’s more likely to be a liking for the musical ‘Taboo’, but not its characters. Any irrational hatred that we have is of the Primrose Hill pretenders or gay emo kids. We don’t feel the need to adopt ‘bunburyist’ pseudonyms or to have a select group of friends when it suits us. As for language, we don't have to hide behind the Anonymous tongue that is 4chan, ebaums world with their twatty, petty, clueless, misunderstood, demented, gullible flash mobbing scientologists, another pointless clique. ('Ooh, look at the point we're making with our V for Vendetta masks. Clever, thought provoking, aren't we? No we're not copying what Armando Iannucci did with those Princess Diana masks in 1996.' Dicks. 'Um, aren't cats cute? Caturdays, eh?' Cunts)

This clique would be unsuitable for Boy George and too brusque for Noel Fielding. Peaches Geldoff wouldn’t find it kooky or chameleon enough. It’s not as offensive as the ‘Glitter Children’ sect or as commercial as the ‘Neo-Gothic Suicide Forum’. It’s not as prejudiced as the ‘Iranian Dykes’ clique or does it hold regular ‘Gnectroclash’ soirees as the French ‘Nife Club’ in Newcastle. It doesn’t even consider itself as progressive as Alderley Edge’s ‘Watersport Wives’. In fact this clique is unique as it only has the sole member of myself involved and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Even though most of you must be aware of the famous Groucho Marx quote regarding membership of clubs, there is also a more perceptive one by Quentin Crisp which goes along the lines of ‘How can I be out of fashion when I was never ‘in?’ In an increasingly self-obsessed world, even more so on the web (guilty as charged) it’s more difficult to fit in or belong to anything without competing with each other to see who’s having the best life. It’s like the Jone’s next door, scenario. Sometimes it’s best not knowing all the tacky things your friends on Facebook are into. It only serves to disappoint. You turn into a culture snob, a whore, and might as well be in a reality television programme. All the while the delusion and self-denial cuts deeper and you find that you end up resenting everyone, including your family and friends. The clique, its concept which has been around since the birth of the Homo sapiens, has gone beyond jocks, new romantics, emos and the Nathan Barley’s. It’s become a clique of one. You. Thatcher is laughing at you.

Much Ado About Nothing

2008-06-25T15:55:00.000+01:00

Two Face

2008-06-25T15:34:00.003+01:00

I might as well lump these two clowns, seperated at birth, shit faced-discharged haired queens together. Not because they resemble the evil lovechild of Russell Grant and Vanessa Feltz, not because they epitomise the dumbed down media, not only because the trite unimportant gossip they inspire makes Lorraine Kelly wet in her tights but because they look like a couple of cunts. Who are they, you might wonder. Darren Lyons (Mr Papparazi) and Perez Hilton. Don't know who gave him the black eye. Maybe it was the Black Eyed Peas.

This is what they actually look like when they step out of the house everyday. Perhaps they believe they look good and 'edgy', that there's something rather zany and playful about them. Perhaps they aren't aware of the irony of appearance when they don't afford the same effort to personal appearence, health and hygiene that they expect of the minor no mark celebraties they regularly exploit/masturbate/hound/torture/witch hunt. Perhaps hypocrisy means fuck all to the fat cunts, or indeed to myself for writing this. Maybe soemday we too can exchange high fives with our friends and colleagues when one or both of them are found dead, empty tubs of Ben and Jerry's strewn around the tear stained Liberace inspired crib, sticky bibs on their chests and a pile of shit smeared into the seat of their fluffy pyjamas, as their pooches sniff around there corpses. Who knows?

Diane Appleyard:An Appeal

2008-06-25T15:26:00.003+01:00

Let's have a whip round for our poor middle class angst-ridden lady.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1024403/The-credit-crunch-hits-home.html

It appears that the credit crunch has affected mediorce novelists and 'journalists' too. Look at what it's done to her. Poor thing blames Gordon Brown for all her financial problems and not the world market. What a shame that she might only have one luxury holiday this year instead of two. And there's the shame of having to suggest that her privately educated kids might have to get summer jobs instead of pocket money? I mean, summer jobs for children, it's hardly middle class, is it?

Come on, everyone. Let's show Ms Appleyard that we care, that her self-rigteous, sel-entitled, inflated figures are justified and send her a pound. She would love to hear from you. Especially if you're Polish.

Sex And The Stupid

2008-05-26T17:59:00.004+01:00

Sex And The City. Sex And The City.Sex And The City.Sex And The City.Sex And The City. Sex And The City.Sex And The City.Sex And The City. Sex And The City. Sex And The City.Sex And The City.Sex And The City.Sex And The City. Sex And The City.Sex And The City.Sex And The City.

Sick of it, yet? According to its fans it's a liberating account of the independent, assertive woman, unashamed to hide her female charms to get what she wants. It's a brutal, headlong escapist monologue of the modern American middle aged female. It's a theraputic thought experiment in how to be happy and to not settle for anything less than bagging a rich white male. Maybe I've got this show mixed up with something else all these years. From what I can make out this has been my experience.

For from a feminist exploration of the life and loves of the independent woman, of friendship, it's a piece of shit that shamelessly revels in its own self-importance and outrageouness. In its execution it comes across as smug, vain and the writing reveals that far from being witty or particularly sexy, it uses aspiration as a mask to justify hedonism, anti-intellectualism and consumerism and undeserved fake prosperity, surely some of the worst human qualities. Even further from the accusation and implication that it's culturally significant and has done much for the modern woman, it actually reinforces the myth of the modern woman as obsessed by shopping and hollow relationships. Far from being a harmless escapist piece of entertainment you can't help feel that the money used to fund this crap would have been better spent on actresses who can deilver stronger performances in a film that actually would be more entertaining, cultural and educational.

It has never been hysterically outrageous. It's always been a self-indulgent, soft targeted, slice of frozen jism.

Is She Normal?

2008-05-07T16:30:00.004+01:00

I can't quite put my finger on what it is I hate about Dr Tanya Byron. It's not an irrational hatred. I don't feel in any way intimadted or threatened by her, nor am I particularly envious of the fame she has received, even if it escapes me. Perhaps it's her incompetence and delivery. Perhaps it's her stupidity. (After all one must be stupid if they think that computer games would turn a kid into a serial killer anymore than watching Superman would turn me into a delusional super hero, I mean come on!)

Watching the BBC 2 show 'Am I Normal?' the final episode exploring atttitudes to sex, I was struck, not by her pretend naivety or understated finger wagging, but with her condesending treatment of some of the sexual behaviours featured. It was as if the show's intended audience were the Richard and Judy/Daily Mail clan. It's not as if some of the things she tried to explore were my cup of tea, far from it, in some cases, but for a so called clinician, I expected someone to 'really' engage with the issues rather than take a detahced, theoretical look at it from the confines of her academic text books and training. How can anyone actually, ever understand what motivates doggers, watersports enthusiasts, cottages, New York studettes, when you haven't occasionally dipped your toe in? Maybe I'm wrong, maybe she has swung a few times and has an insider knowledge, but she seemed to dismiss a lot of the material she encountered for a congnitive point of view rather than addressing the instinctive, physical aspect of people's fetishes. I wouldn't condone the Milli Vanilli pedo-clone for a minute but it was all too easy and predicatable for her to look concerned, aided by theatrical pauses and close-up's of her hatred and loathing of this individual. Society is a very complex beast as is the human being and mind, so by what definition is anyone qualified to define what normality is, let alone abnormality? Is it a cases of moving goal posts, a class thing, conventional versus unconventional behaviour, survivial instinct? I don't know the answers but it wouldn't have been too bad if Dr Byron would have asked the questions.
Instead we got a few stunted interviews, an inapproriate conversation with kids about tits and sexuality and lots of shots of her fat arse (not entirely a bad thing). On the basis of this I wouldn't trust her parenting skills.

No, don't like her.

Party Like its 1981 (Whatdya mean! It is!)

2008-04-17T01:43:00.007+01:00

Previously on Best Before I wrote a piece on John Simm. The only drawback of this was that I said 'edgy' when it is such an awful word to use, especially in the context of television. For that I am sorry. However, I am not sorry for singing his praises, as he gave a fantastic and focused performance in both series of Life on Mars, which ended last year. But has it really ended?

Recently the BBC have done another thing right and brought us it's spin off Ashes To Ashes, which has just finished it's first season. It's premise of yet another character seemingly going into another coma and ending up in 1981 is a little far fetched, and the first episode did have some daft moments, but I enjoyed its slightly darker tone. (There I go again. 'Darker' is becoming the new 'edgy'. Let's settle for 'reflective'.)Apparently it's an example of 'high concept' television which just basically means that it's fantasy. And it's yet another nostalgic trip into a time when things were really great, when the London Met tried to stamp out police brutality...no that can't be right. Wasn't the same police force responsible for knocking the fuck out of people in Brixton and some of the Yorskshire miners?

Still Gene Hunt is back. A loveable racist, bigoted, sexist rouge with no respect for authority, or Scarman. A guilty pleasure if you like, for squealing, overweight women in their late thirties to swoon over. (No that's not right, is it?)Well you'd be forgive for thinking that if you drifted over to the fan forum at The Railway Arms, and witnessed the desire for the soap opera love affair with Gene Hunt, and the wish for him to peel off Keely Hawes skintight jeans wearing character Alex Drake so they can get it on. Call me cynical by all means but isn't the show much bigger than that? Does high concept actually mean a cheap remake of 'Moonlighting' crossed with 'The Sweeney'? One hopes not.

The fun for me however is the speculation and theories. Just as there was with Life on Mars. Is Alex really in 1981? Is Gene a construct? Or is he in fact Jesus? What if everybody's dead? What if Sam Tyler is really imagining everything? Maybe the snotty, Blackberry loving unsympathetic and poorly drawn daughter, Molly, is the one who's in the coma? Or perhaps she is the construct. Or they could all be in comas, lying next to each other, in 2018? Theories, theories...Despite my reservations, and the reservations of others, I'm enjoying the nostalgia, the daftness and the desire for it to have a more science ficition conclusion. I love the bonkers flashbacks, the soundtrack and imagining what I would do if I was transported back to the 1980s as I am now. Oh the fun I would have. Thumping people who bugged (yes, bugged) me, getting arrested for assualt and spending a few months in a 1980s prison. But I love the darkness. Not the band obviously. There are moments and signs when you feel there will be a twist and a major headfuck. With Life on Mars we didn't want to believe that Sam Tyler was in a coma. It was much to obvious. But with Ashes to Ashes you wonder if there is something more going on with Gene and if at times he is aware of it. Maybe it's a quirk of the director but in Episode Two there is a moment with Gene in the office, a long, introspective glance. It's unnerving, it's slightly spooky, and it's incredibly sad. What will it mean?

Ashes To Ashes is out soon on DVD. Speculate away. Series 2 will follow in 2009.

CRUNCH time!

2008-04-16T01:44:00.003+01:00

Feeling the pinch are we? Tightening those purse strings? What, no? Don't worry it could either be because not only are you as bored as I am by the whole thing and even the annoying phrase 'credit crunch' that's been haunting the lazy media for months, but also if you're as poor as me, or no doubt in the dire situation citizens of Zimbabwe or Iraq, then there really are more pressing matters.

Now it won't come as any surprise to those of you who even bother to come here, that I don't claim to be a financial expert and indeed, am a bit reluctant and suspicious to believe media appointed financial experts to explain complex mathamatics about how fucked Britain, the US and the rest of the world will be, and the theories as to why that might be. I do know, however, and wonder whether fatcats will still give themselves 300% pay rises, often for chairing failing compaanies, or why when energy providers still make huge profits, they could defer any big rises, or why much money and resouces is spent on defence, but hey, that's just my gullibility in these matters, and I hold my hands up if these are not important factors.

Another crazy theory I have, which is long winded, but for the benefit of you, readers, I'll spare some of your precious time, is that people might just be wising up to forking out for shitty products and services. Or on occasion not paying for them at all because they can get them for free, because whether or not they're any good, is immaterial. So it's a cultural slow down, more than a finacial one, isn't it? But isn't there a cultural slow down, though? Really? Don't things seem culturally questionable? Is there much value in music and art today? Is it sustainable or even justifiable in this cynical age when companies want to mass produce cheap shite to make a fast buck? Something to think about before you continue on your day or pop out to Tescos...

Kool As Fuck

2008-01-18T23:44:00.000Z

With all the cool lists and hype going around at the moment it’s difficult to know what to trust from those who don’t have an immediate agenda and well, a-hem, friends in high places.

If the NME is to be believed then any cunt from the Nathan Barely part of London with a mockney accent, complete with shit hairstyles and guitars, are obviously going to be cool as fuck. If we follow the example of the ‘liberal’ newspapers, such as The Guardian and The Indie, then anyone who has a hint of foreign blood in them, or anything in their past that can contribute to the charitable nature of these newspapers, then these by proxy are cool as fuck as well. (It also helps if you work for the newspaper if you wish your project to be actually taken seriously). As for the right wing rags, they’ll be happy with any pretty face, as long as its white, middle class and would be seen as cutting edge in the Radio 2 or Classic FM universe. Who else would pay real money for James Cunt records? Probably the same fuckers who buy Nigella Lawson and Oliver cook books, and get their cigs from abroad. You know, the type who moan about shity public services while scouting for private schools and ripping off the tax system. Jeremy Clarkson types in fact. Cool? Fuck that.

Not that being cool is actually a validation anyway in times when most things are shit. Each to his own. But if it’s cool you actually want, you could do a lot worse than my ‘Kool’ list.

Kraftwerk
Uber-cool. The mensch machine from Düsseldorf have been perennially cool for decades, not just because they don’t give a fuck for anything other than technology and its relationship to humanity, not because they call you, you don’t call them, not because on stage behind four laptops, side by side, as if they’ve flown in, taken to their cycles and look as if they have just arrived on stage direct from a business meeting in Berlin, not because their influence is second only to The Beatles for inspiring almost every modern movement of dance music. But because, when I saw them live, ever precise and in control, they came on stage at 8 P.M. sharp.

Patrick McGoohan
He is not only a free man but you wouldn’t want to fuck with a guy who not only dreamed up The Prisoner, not only took the piss out of contemporary culture and the ever increasing CCTV state, and made a truly iconic figure say no to mediocrity when everyone else was saying ‘Yes, please, ooh it’s the sixties, love, love..’ but also for taking a stand against authority and the powers that be, especially in the opening credits when he slams his fist down on the table. How many of us have dreamed of doing this to our boss?

McEwans Lager Advert
Sure there have been ‘cool’ campaigns like the Guinness past and present, the odd car ad, the pretty Bravia stuff, and the majority of adverts are so smug and pleased with themselves it's untrue, and 99% of them are just inconvenient pieces of crap, especially BBC adverts. (Just witness the shower of shit that is the Radio 1 adverts. For fuck’s sake they’re supposed to be getting you to switch on! You’d be forgiven for thinking that Radio 1 presenters are a set of cunts from the way they are portrayed. This advert from the 1980s is one of the few you wouldn't mind seeing again and again. It gives you shivers. It's not as smug, but almost a dark predication of what adverts will reduce the human race to one day. Along with the music, the sense of scale, based on the myth of Sisyphus, this renders it more exciting than the programmes it often came between. Oh yes, and it's Kool as fuck.

The Equaliser (Opening Credits)
Not only would you never want to venture down New York's subway at night but you wouldn't fuck with Woodward. Doesnt he cast a badass shadow?

The Hype with Daniel Corbett

2007-12-31T19:00:00.000Z

Greetings. As you may know I was invited to write the alternative Christmas message this year, exclusive to this website but, fate stepped in and decided to give me a touch of flu so like melting whipped cream on hot apple pie, I dribble sweet fanciful apologies. Not to fret, though. I've been asked to give you the lowdown on the hot spots and not spots for next year.

When I'm not surveying Great Britain from my domed palace in the clouds, making sure that the evil of weather of 1987 doesn't hurt my children again, I'm quite the connoisseur. My friends will tell you that I adore, simply adore, making jam and baking scones. But I also find popular music and the arts fascinating. When I'm not munching away on my jam and cream scones in my own private weather centre, in between bouts, of shoving the westerly winds back into the north sea, I also adore social networking. So let's have a look at the 'real deals' of 2008. Forget the poppycock of The Guardian, The Sunday Times and the bright young things of The Observer, this is where it will happen. And my predictions are usually right... for now.

Music
The bands to watch out for in 2008 include:

*The Serial Killers (a dubious tribute act of The Killers who had the distinction of actually forming the band and recording whilst on death row in Florida. Originally had five members. Now sadly a trio.)

*The Psuedophiles (Described as a 'bit like the Horrors but without the hairstyles.' And 'kazoos instead of crap guitars'. From Shoreditch.)

*The Mohammeds (Contraversial new act set up about a month ago. So exclusive that they haven't written any songs or learned to play instruments but the word is that they're all dressed as giant teddy bears and are about to go into a studio with Richard X)

*The Fopps (Ah, The Fopps. The new demo CD is already passing under the tables of trendy bars in Camden. Called 'Music Richard Curtis Can Dance To', it's surely, one would have thought, the album Mark Ronson would have made if he wasn't Mark Ronson, but Mark Ronson pretending to be Mick Ronson.)

Television
Ah, television. How I love my television. Forget the blistering waves of disenchantment that will come from attempting to invest 7 years of your life in another US serial, the BIG BIG US series will be the 17 one minute episode mini epic, 'Yalta'. Set on the Russian retreat, 'Yalta' follows the trials of a young Martian as it infiltrates Russia and form a pact with the US and Britain. Gripping stuff. Includes car chases, explosions, time travel, hard sex, and a soundtrack by Faithless.

As for 'Reality television', there's the Bakewell's Tarts series which is already set to be the talk of 2008. I'm rather fond of bakewell tart.

Trends
Facebook was last year's must have bookmark. With its pointless applications and endless daft notifications from friends and countless opportunities for self promotion, self-effacement, self-delusion and one upmanship, it was the only social networking site where no-one actually socially networked. Old wounds opened, new wounds inflicted, it, according to sources, became the cause of 47 suicides last year, 15 in Britain alone. Ah, but you can throw sheep at people! Do you see?

This year's hot web 2.0 application/social networking site that people are already using is WhoreMe.com, developed and maintained by Brian Wilson (not 'thee' Brian Wilson) Among the feature's it boasts is an add on called the 'Fetish Box' where you can type some of the strange fixations you have. Bingo! The Fetish Box will match them with those friends of yours who share the same perverted desires, and thus a mutual understanding will be born, new relationships will arise. The 'Blackmail' application (in conjunction with paypal) is also growing in popularity. What? You've never heard of this site. Where have you been in the last three hours? Everybody you know have already left Facebook ghosts of themselves to emigrate. Get on with it.

Fashion
The thing that girls will pick up, eventually, as they eventually do, after spending six months laughing and dissing it, as they do every year, as they did with tights and shorts combos, boots and jeans combos...and Beth Ditto's dress sense(Come on girls you know who you are!) will be catsuits. Already available in new fabrics and patterns they will kick some serious buttocks. My partner has one. In particular look out for the limited edition D&G Orange Peel number, recently modelled by my colleague Fiona Bruce at the BBC Christmas party. I have to say it didn't suit her. She's too gangly. No sex appeal whatsoever. It was as if Ruth Kelly was modelling it. Come on girls, display those curves.

Weather
My weather tips for next year include a band of rain, some blustery showers, a spot of light drizzle and a sprinkling of sand. Don't be too surprised that you won't encounter some light lemon hail around April. And some disturbed cloudy weather around the summer solstice. As ever, with the weather, and everything else, you never can be too careful and you should carry a brolly at all times.

Well, that's The Hype...for now!

Best Before Bitter Awards 2007

2007-12-30T19:01:00.000Z

Yet another year, yet another review of about a couple of million reviews you'll skip in the newspapers or websites. But if you're familiar with mine you'd better stop scrolling down and pay attention! Unlike the other reviews I won't bleat too much about how great everything is or even bother to remind you what's happened this year. (I mean if you can't remember what has happened in the last 12 months, you're either too young to take anything in or too senile, or suffer from a mental illness, so it's not your fault, but for those too lazy to think, as ever you can fuck off.) So on with the awards. For me, 2007 has been the year of complete tits, but then again so are most years.

I can't believe it's the Catherine Tate Award
Catherine Tate.

This award was prompted in part from her continual shit sketch show and the venom aimed at her for having the audacity for being chosen to play the Doctor's new companion. It could have been worse, couldn't it? Well, couldn't it? Peter Kay? Kate Nash? The funny thing is that I'd never see someone outclassed and acted into the ground by Tony Blair.

The 'Fuck You', 'I won't Resign!' Award
Sir Ian Blair.

It's fortunate for him that he's not in the Liberal Democrats.

Permanent Bad Hair Award
Mika

Oh, and his album is still rubbish. But novelties do come and go.
In fact this trend for long hair on blokes, I don't find attractive at all. I'm not on about the Shoreditch mould, rather the fashioned shoulder length hair and big fringes, often sported by young boys on TV. Awful. It's so boring when everyone is metrosexual. (Remember that godawfuls series, 'Metrosexuality'? Probably be a big hit this days.)

The 'Cor blimey Award' for the Mockneys
Lily Allen
Amy Winehouse
George Lamb
Kate Nash
Feist
Example
Jamie T

I know, I know, Lily Allen, please, please fuck off. We are bored of you. No-one gives a shit about your weight, whether you're pregnant, whether you will or won't record again, or even your crappy blogs. Go away. You're a bore. Kate Nash might be better looking, and I'm sure when people in London get bored of mockneys, she can always do some cover poses with that fit woman off 'Heroes' for GQ or something but untill that day lay off the Damon Albarn in Parklife stylee, accent. No-one is convinced, you middle class twerp. You're no more cockney than the late Benazir Bhutto. Example, well, maybe he doesn't mean it, but on that Mike Skinner late night programme, he came across as a 24 carat tool! I'm sure he isn't thick as fuck and I'm sure he doesn't give a fuck but he did come across as a sixth form knobhead. Even Richard Archer was embarrassed. And , finally, George Lamb. Did you know there's a Facebook group that wants you off BBC 6 Music? The way you fawned over Lily Allen, you wanker! Fuck me, you really want to aspire to be Robert Elms? That's the way you're going. I'm sure you're the kinds of tossers who google yourselves for validation! Not from me, mate.

Please Fold Award
The NME
(Conor McNicholas)

Wouldn't it be great if the NME folded? Just think of it. All those wannabe music 'journalists' out of work. All that moronic and unfounded hype laid to rest. Remember The Darkness? What about Fischerspooner? They came good, didn't they? You heard it there first. As with some of the Sunday supplements they are very quick to tell you when their tip offs came good. If only they ran all the failures. Admit when they got it wrong, that their pretend tastes, don't always pay off, we'd have a bit more respect. Dont we love failure in Britain?

The Julie Burchill Predictable Award
David Cameron

You know there are some people whose mind and motives you can read, almost before they even open their big gobs. With Julie Burchill, she often goes against the grain for the sake of it, hence her predictable and not very well argued love of shitty girl bands and chavs. Cameron is similar. The moment the announcement came that he was going to do his speech at the Tory conference without an autocue, it almost gave political editors and commentators orgasms. Fuck the obvious gimmick, this is, they decided, a person who is sooo 2007, he must be a great future prime minister. He's like the twat doing the theatre course at college who decides to go nude to mask the fact that his dissertation has no substance. He's the crowd pleasing headline grabber who is second only to the McCanns, in promoting himself, rather than the message. If he has any policies then Nigella Lawson has real friends.

Earth Is Great. Human Beings Are Better. But My Baddies Are Really Shit Award
Russell T. Davies

Russell T. Davies seems to attract the worst aspects of the new Doctor Who, considering that he brought it back. With accusations of stunt casting (well founded) and the very patchy writing, plotting, duff recurring themes and characterisation, he's heading into Jonathan Harvey territory. He thinks we're all jealous because we're not writing it and we're all bitter queens and we don't hang out with BBC producers in Wales but he's mistaking jealousy for disappointment. We won't mention Torchwood. Shit, I've just done it.

Is it funny? Is it funny if I keep repeating it? Is it? Is it funny? Award
Katy Brand

Yet again BBC 3 has shown that this don't disappoint us this year when it comes to delivering ironically inoffensive cheap sketch show comedy, and Katy Brand delivers basic catchphrase humour at its worst. Congratulations. And by the way, repeating an unfunny phrase over and over again still isn't funny.

The Cheap Lousy Faggot Award
Sudan/Radio 1

Well not all of Sudan but parts of it. All this offence over a teddy bear. Yes, most in the west agree that there was a lot of backward stupidity, yes, fundamentalists agree that some of us in the west are ignorant. But this award is another example of the minorities insensitivity dominating and nannying the opinions and intelligence of everyone else. It was the same of the Jerry Springer the Musical bollocks. I know that the connotations of faggot are offensive. I know that when said by 'characters' they display the characters own prejudices and enable us to make our own judgments. When we seek to censor things because it offends someone we aren't on the yellow brick road to enlightenment, are we? Let people decide for themselves if they are offended. Don't tell us what to be offended by. I find most things offensive. But I won't censor them, I'd allow them dig their own graves. Pity we couldn't censor stupidity.

Bully Me Award
Sean Kingston

I'd hate to have him babysitting my niece. Just look at his face when he ogles the girls in his music videos. It's practically evil.

Cunt of The Year
Mark Ronson

Geek chic has another poster boy this year. This 'producer' is better known and responsible for buggering around and making Radio 2 lite classics. Not only does he also look like a prick and sound like a prick in interviews but arseholes like him who validate the hypes and the fuck ups that are Amy Wino and Lily Allen are sadists in my book. Music for Richard Curtis films is how to best describe this genre.

I'm a a bit tired now and Causality is on. There you go. Happy 2008.

Christmas Special: What's on television?

2007-12-17T13:37:00.000Z

Every year television in Britain at christmas is usually a forgettable affair. There's the predicatable soap stories where some duff revelation is made and someone's festive day is ruined, there's the repeats and there's never anything on the news, unless you have a tsunami to liven things up a bit. But all this is set to change in the next week as I have the real highlights of what's on TV this season. Set your DVD/PVR/VCR's folks.

SEPTEMBER 11TH in 3D (Sky One, 9pm, 20th December)

A moving and thought provoking high definition broadcast putting the viewer inside the picture of those all too familiar devastating events in 2001. Again. It really makes you put things into perspective. Involves tears, insincere ballads and the memories of those who weren't actually there but are famous enough to have their reflections broadcast, in the bizarre form of revolving talking heads around the site of the twin towers. Creepy. Narration by Peter Kay.

SCALING THE FACE OF ZOE WILLIAMS (Channel 5, 20th December, 9.55 pm)

Join Suzi Perry in this unique experiment in Trafalgar square as builders construct a massive roasted potato face of the Guardian's Zoe Williams. Members of the public attempt to scale the eforgy and unlock its mystical secrets but will they just find a lot of trivial observations instead? They have an hour to complete it untill a controlled explosion is carried out by London Met's bomb disposal unit. Compelling viewing.

CHRISTMAS IN VERSIONLAND with MARK RONSON (E4, 22nd December, 6.02 pm)

Mark Ronson is joined by guests included Lily Allen, Kate Nash, Tommy Steele, Amy Wino, Jamie T, Joe Brown, Buster Blood Vessel and the Doolittle Family to perform Phil Spector christmas classics and selections from 50s and 60s musicals in a mockney, half arsed generic, psuedo-motown, probably ska-ish kind of way. This is a good one to have turned down while you're having a violent row.

AT HOME WITH SAM TAYLOR-WOOD (BBC 4, 22nd December, 11.15 pm)

Join the artist from the Brit school as she and her guests including Martin Creed attempt to undertake the task of putting together an installation (Home) which sees them attempt to live in various sections and branches of Habitat around the country for a week. After which the waste is sold off and the proceeds are given to Farepack. 'Imagine buying the loo that she's shat or puked in,' notes Wolfgang Tillmans. Thanks for that, Wolfgang. You prick!

BAKEWELL'S TARTS (New series) (Christmas Eve, ITV2, 7-25 pm)

Joan Bakewell presents this weekly 26 part erotic series/slices of life from sex bloggers. This episode features Julie Burchill playing the blogger 'Abby Lee' finding herself in a spot of bother when one of her 'shags' is a learning mentor who has a thing about ants crawling around her orifices. Features stupid and silly observations from self-appointed members of the Cliterati. Still the programme is worth it for the harpy yell at the start, when Bakewell declares 'Get your cocks and clits out!' I'm sure this will be the catchphrase of 2008.

BARRY GEORGE: IF I'D HAVE WASTED DANDO (BBC 1, Christmas Day, 3.30pm)

Talking the lead from OJ Simpson's contraversial book imaging how he would have killed his lover, Barry George (played by Richard Hawley) goes back in time and carries out the flawless assasination. The planning and prep are so professional that the lack of evidence actually leads police to George himself. Who he also takes out. Before pulling the gun on himself. Features 'Who wants to live forever' by Queen. Moving stuff.

LOHANS FINAL SCORE (GMTV, Boxing day, 8.30 AM)

A bizarre experimental piece featuring a distorted reflection of Lindsey Lohan in the hall of mirrors begging 'I wanna score...I wanna score badly...come on...I need it!' For two hours. Features a couple of frames of Lorraine Kelly aroused by this.

I'll leave you now. Next time there'll be the Best Before Awards, the Kool As Fuck List and a look at the things that people will be talking about next year.

Every Parent's Knightmare

2007-12-13T17:10:00.001Z

What you get if you cross Thom Yorke, Brad Pitt, Kevin Spacey and Morgan Freeman.

2007-12-02T00:55:00.000Z

Some light entertainment from Radiohead.

Sudan Impact

2007-11-30T16:24:00.000Z

200.000 teachers marched across Europe yesterday to demand that Sudan be given 80 lashes after it emerged that President Omar Hasan Ahmad al-Bashir named his teapot 'Jesus Blood'. 'Death to those who insult our teddy bear teapots!' exclaimed one red-faced activist from the teaching union, NUT, yesterday.

Irish Blood On The Carpet

In other news, following NME's interview earlier this week in which they pretended to take the moral high ground over Morrissey's non-racist views about a nostalgic, romantic view of Britain that only existed in 1960's kitchen sink dramas, the NME has come under fire from me, Smirnov Kool. Writing on my own blog this afternoon, I said, 'The NME have a nerve. Not only do they continue to promote the blandest, conservative acts known to man behind their Londoncentric mockney, trans-atlantic 3D glasses, but isn't this the same magazine that constantly fails to be more international? Isn't this the rag that forever runs polls, lists and features on white, English, guitar driven artists, some of who have views for more offensive than Morrissey? The NME in the last 7 years have committed more moral crimes than Morrissey ever did. I wouldn't mind if they were decent journalists or had something new and fresh to say. It's no wonder our kids are shanking and shooting each others faces off when the other alternatives involve spending time reading about and watching Jamie T(wat), Kate Nash (Dido for kids), Thomas Tantrum, Lily Allen and the infestation of boring and inoffensive cunts.'

Brand Normal

And finally, the Dawn French wannabe, Katy Brand was recovering last night after discovering that her pamphlet of carefully fashioned catchphrases went missing in Whetherspoons. Brand, no relation to archaic Russell, who still has to shoot to fame for her hilarious portrayal of Kate Winslett in her BBC 3 comedy, 'Katy's Fat Anus' as a 'normal' person ad nauseum, long after we've got the joke, is said to be in a state of shock. The rumours of her offering anal sex as a reward are untrue. Lucas and Walliams were unavailable for comment. This recent news comes only hours after it was discovered that Peter Kay has been dead for the past three years, hence the endless DVD reissues.

I've been updating some of the old posts with lovely videos and stuff. Please take some time to work through them. Included are videos from Kate Bush, Goldfrapp, Sparks and Desireless. All better than a pot of cold piss.

Best Before Manifesto, according to Churchill

2007-11-24T18:01:00.000Z

This piece comes with no notes. It's totally unscripted and therefore transparently sincere. It represents what I believe needs to be done to improve culture, society, media and politics, and importantly what my role will be in this. I intend to present these thoughts to open forums throughout Britain, accompanied by a life size cut out of Robert Wadlow and Maxine Carr's French football shirt with the witty and memorable 'I've Scored' slogan. It helps if you read this in the voice of James Earl- Jones or Winston Churchill.

I promise I will continue to do all in my power to slam the doors of opportunity in the faces of those who might have given me a break in developing a career in the media, theatre or publishing world. I promise to bite the hand that feeds from every literary agent, manager, editor and to remove any scrap of hope they may offer me. If only to save the disappointment of the inevitable. I will do this and more, safe in the knowledge that I will pledge to TRY and not mock soft, easy targets like the Daily Mail, Britney Spears or Vernon Kaye, but have the courage to make unpopular decisions, necessary for the growth of enlightenment among billions of disadvantaged people who have not been challenged or stimulated for many years now. I will be only too pleased to hold Mother Teresa or Martin Luther-King to account. If it's simple bitch slapping and idle uninspired gossip you want, you are welcome to visit the weak Perez Hilton clone sites. I do this because I care. Of course I do.

I want a Britain (and indeed a world) where the term 'aspiration' should no longer go hand in hand with rewarding stupidity, presenting emaciated models as being an acceptable size, owning child killing SUV's as an acceptable mode of transport which best defines your upwardly mobile status, no longer compete with other mediorce people to attain mediorce aspirations, fame and celebrity, absurd hairstyles, saying the word 'Carbon footprints' or emissions because you think it makes you look great, commissioning and transmitting 'aspirational' US teen shows...and Hollyoakes. But one in which your contribution to a progressivley intelligent society not a devolving Britain, part of a devolving world. Becoming a singer or a dancer on some bland talent show is not a credible aspiration. Lots of people sing and dance but with the added bonus that they create their own material not mimick it from the television or radio that transmits the substandard originals. The current elite needs to be dismantled in order to create the new elite. So you better listen up Peaches Geldoff and Nigella Lawson, it ends here. Equal rights for the experimental, for the ugly, for the poor, for the aesthetically challeneged, for the bitter!

I yearn for a Britain where concepts and ideas such as alternative medcine, spiritualism and religion whenever mentioned in polite society are treated as if you've anally abused a pigeon or a pike that has died of old age.

I want to live in a Britain where the very word 'Britain' is not continually misused in the tabloid media, when what they are really referring to is right wing England, and not the whole of the Isles. I want a Britain that is proud to be pedantic, and yes, to some extend proud to be patriotic, but not one where the media constantly patronises its subjects by asking them 'What does it mean to be British?' It's such a daft question anyway, like asking what does it mean to adore cheese spread or what does it mean to hate Gary Linekar?

You know something else? I'd stand for a Britain that is proud to be controversial. What often gets presented as controversy often is no more than a storm in a teacup. In our climate of never ending hypocrisy how are we supposed to have rational, gleeful sometimes, debates about difficult and real subjects for fear of being treated as the non-existent anti-christ? Leave the social construct 'morality' out of the argument, then we'll talk. Being offended isn't a right restricted to the few and it doesn't exist to cloud the subjects underneath. Let's stick a knife into the heart of the matter and twist it a few times. Twist it.

It's time we had a Britain that defines 'chavs' not as the middle-upper classes in society who have questionable dress sense and taste but quite rightly the working class scumbags who haven't the awareness or mentality to realise that the mismatched knock off's they wear look truly ridiculous, before being hi-jacked by style glossies and watered down to look even more comical. And let's not get into the cheap rent-a- limo culture! Come on, the middle classes are embarassing enough without trying to manufacture a cool sub-culture for themselves. Which leads me onto my next point.

I want to contribute to a Britain that doesn't apologise for dysfunctional families and deprived areas as an excuse for criminal activity or the loss of morals in society. This excuse can never wash when many people have come from similar backgrounds, have been abused, have been deprived of opportunity but have gone on to better things. Something else must be at work among these indivduals who defile our world and make it an unbearable place to eat on public transport without having to put up with the tinny tones of shit music, as an advertisement for how boring and shit some people are. Being unwashed really is the least of our worries.

Britain must not be afraid to be ashamed of itself from time to time. We do get it wrong, we do have poor taste, we aren't what we were, and even that was nothing to be proud of. Our public transport is a disgrace, much of our infrastructure is in a mess and the European counterparts which our rags spend so much time dissing have better services, and can speak our language when we can't be arsed and expect to be treated like colonial rulers. When you live in a country where some quarters actually takes seriously Boris Johnson for the candidtate for London Mayor, who feels that his bumbling and winning humour on 'Have I Got News For You?' is enough to get him by, then you know you're in trouble. I'm sure we can all have fun imagining what a London September 11th might be like with him in charge but the issue here is that as with everything else I've mentioned, Boris is almost like the symbol of stupidiy and mediocrity that we've come to rely on too much in this country. It's there in our middling sporting achievments, which accounts for the mass hysterics on Lewis Camelot, sorry Hamelton. Let's get this house in order.

I want a Britain that really stands by equal rights and carries it through to its logical conclusion. One day I'm sure we hope to see someone with special needs or mental illness stand for a member of parliament or even Prime Minister. It would bring great peace of mind to consider that we live in a world where literally ANYONE no matter your circumstances can be the head of the government. Imagine that for a moment.

I demand a Britain that fully realises and understands that Peter Kay is not the comic genius you think he is but a substandard, substitute for the end of the pier acid porridge that spews from the mouth of Roy 'Chubby' Brown, the sort of kid you enjoyed bullying at school, someone who should be laughed AT for his blindingly obvious weak and lazy observations and gags which are older than Jimmy Tarbuk's mid-60s rent boys. I know you will join me in destroying his mother's bungalow and that the good will you once had will be consigned to no more repeats of his show at Blackpool Tower, and placed back in the care of Dave Spiky and the Christmas Crackers he nicked his gags from. Same goes for Jimmy Carr and Alan Davies. No longer should we put up with lame jokes on QI, and the sweeping looks of affection and attention aimed for Stephen Fry's sympathetic approval.

What about a Britain that recognises Pete Doherty not as the misunderstood musical genius who has yet to realise his potential, but as a drug addled fuck up who wastes every chance offered to him, and if he was anyone else he would be rotting in prison? Can we really stand by as we allow this poor, inoffensive victim, with his inoffensive songs be promoted and fed drugs by the media in the hope he will go to an early grave? Can he really be compared to the excitment and talent of Alex 'Hurricane' Higgins, who really did piss and gamble his life away and survived to tell the tale? We must have a Britain that denounces his followers as car crash chasers and not give them the satisfaction that they desire in the effort to tearfully tell the grandparents 'I was there when Doherty burned! I lit candles, played Libertines demos, smoked a spliff with my mates as we all looked at each other and said, 'Mm, Ian Curtis, again.' We must put him in a pullover, forcibly put him in the care of the Val Doonican estate and allow him time to develop his craft as a storyteller, so he is able to give decades of pleasure to our children as a raconteur of nursery rhymes.

We must we live in a country that celebrates the death of Guy Fawkes as the hero that never was, rather than a villain. I know many of you would have more fun burning the stealth murder Dick Cheney or Rumsfeld. Or even Linda Barker for that matter.

So in all my endeavours I will continue to legally I should think, burn the bridges that may have led me to opportunity in the hope that you won't have to, and if during my endeavours, success does come my way again, you can rest assured that I will stand by my views and use my position to carry forward this awareness, which is being neglected by the current figures in entertainment and politics, so pre-occupied with fame and charity and engaged in the stuff that is geared towards inflating their image. Never again do you have to be disappointed or unfulfilled. I accept that this may not have been a speech that will have made Alison Pearson's granny knickers wet nor will it play to the sensibilities of many political commentators or coloumists who got off on the gimmicky speech that David Cameron gave at the Tory conference a couple of months ago, nor will it stop the likes of Russell Brand, Lily Allen. Mika, Kate Nash and publications such as the NME continuing their devolution but it's a start and I know that with your support we can spread the word.

In the words of Luther-King, 'I may not get there witcha.' But I will be watching...Britain is safe in my hands. I thank you.

Start

2007-11-22T02:01:00.001Z

For those irregular new visitors to this blog and to any new arrivals you won't have noticed that I've actually been working on updating and giving this place a facelift.

You may have noticed (if you paid careful attention) that I haven't posted a new blog for a while now and what I have posted has remained characteristically bitter but hopefully with the intention to entertain, think on the page, wonder, question, despair and all that sort of stuff. And while I do enjoy getting some concerns off my chest there are things that I do genuinely adore and find soft, sensual and cuddly.

But I will not shirk in my responsibility to continue to capture the media and popular culture inside the prism of my bitter glare and to raise my fist at them and go 'Ooh, bad! You bad thing!' But hopefully in a more entertaining way than that. I'm not Perez Hilton. I'm not Popbitch, Holy Moly, Popjustice or the spate of these sites that have been doing this kind of thing far, far later than I or indeed millions of us out there have done for years in one form or another, excpet for The Onion perhaps or Private Eye. So have a browse at some older posts. If you like them, fine. If you don't, 1. I don't care much BUT 2. You could always try again in a week or a month and maybe there'll be something you do like. Now here's something for you to enjoy which is NOT a guilty pleasure.

Ten Years Naked

2007-09-21T16:26:00.000+01:00

There's something wrong in this country when we allow style and improvement programmes who take their lead from tacky glossies and dubious fashion events dictate the way we eat, look, dress, undress, parent, decorate, spend money and rip off house buyers. Of course I, as so many before me, have made our views known on this subject and met with a wall of vacant silence. 'So why write a bitter piece which is five years out of date?' Er... because god made me do it, guv!

What is particularly hateful about hiring Gok Wan and according to Channel 4 the 'cool and collected' Miss Nicky Hambleton-Jones (who by the way looks at least in her late 40s. Maybe she's actually 58. Result!) is that some sadistic fuckers have looked at these new media reprobates, their lack of style and thought, 'Cool. Let's give them a series! Let's show the dumpy, frumpy public how to look good,' and then go and get it spectacularly wrong...everytime. Believe me in the media it is who you know if you want to get on. I've been there and back. I'm not adverse to confidence boosting makeovers or shopping jaunts but please spare me the condescending tone from so called experts who leave much to be desired. Mica Paris is no great example as well. She could probably scratch living for some poor souls as a BBW prostitute, or rather a BW.

But going back to 10 Years Younger there's a very naive and patronising notion where when selecting garments and accessories these Hambleton types base their decisions on the fact that just because the air-headed OK magazine wearing anorexics are being seen with them, such as beach bags for example, or that Ana Mantronic has supposedly made red hair fashionable, then these are decent, stylish measuring sticks. Honestly, it's all rather loathsome! I'd be highly dubious of anyone who takes their lead from WAG-inspired glossies. Maybe if it was a programme called 'How To fuck Up Your Life', or 'How To Become Dependent on Class A Drugs', or 'How To Look Like a Complete Laughable Fuckwitt in Public With your Faux Mrs Beckham Postboxed Mouth Posturing' then you'd have a reasonable point.

'Well if you don't like it, don't watch it...ner ner ner...' defenders of this shite might well say. 'I love it. It's car crash tele. It's harmless bit of fun!' Well, so is strangling IT girls but I wouldn't necessarily want to watch it on TV. Actually...

As for Gok Wan, you may wonder why he doesn't go naked. But let's be fair, fully clothed he still looks like the plastic surgery went very wrong following a train wreck. It's all very sad.

Open Heart Bitterness

2007-09-18T15:02:00.000+01:00

In a new approach to interviews here's some answers I gave to the recently defunct Italian-English style magazine 'La Fashionata Espresso'. (It folded after two days on sale) To make it marginally more fun I've held back the questions.

It's hateful. Monkey TV and Will McDonald should be sent to the Hague for crimes against humanity. I thought Channel 4 couldn't get any lower than Balls of Steel or the Minipops but they've clearly proved everyone wrong. I've offered Channel 4 a way out with my sit-com 'Hart and Soul' starring Tony Hart and David Soul but are they interested?

Well she was always a natural successor to the stooge comedy of Bella Emberg, was Dawn. As for Pam Ann, she's crap as well. Lip Service are far better female entertainers.

I blame the concept of regeneration. I think we should have MORE Poles over here in the UK. We're not European enough. Even better why don't we kick all our scumbags out or swap Warrington for Kracow. The Salford dossers should go to Gdansk or Zimbabwe. Let Mugabe feed them.

I never saw anyone in 2006 wearing a trilby that didn't look like a complete shit.

Sonia from Eastenders inspires a harder erection than Nelly Retardo ever could.

Poor Edith Bowman.

He should design council estates, should Jonathan Ives. But it'd look good for about 2 days before it all gets pissed on, scrawled on and smashed to bits like the cheekbones of an abused whippet. I can see the streets now. There'd be shards of cider bottles scattered everywhere and tear stains left over from the insignificant lives of teenagers with their petty relationship woes. It's all ery sad.

Peaches Geldoff. Writer and DJ? OK then...

I'm bored with labels. The future is Primark.

There's not enough Jack Klugman's in the NHS.

I think Dolphin's have always been laughing at us. It's nothing to do wuth the structure of their mouths.

I've always found him a repulsive laughing stock. There's nothing endearing about him. It's an act, like he's pretend routine of jogging and cycling. He's also a nasty piece of work as that business with Kimberly Quin clearly displayed. If Cameron had down syndrome and wore a mop on his head you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the two.

Bitterness is great. It's far from self-destructive. It's creative. Without it you wouldn't have had Kafka, Dosteovsky, David Icke or Shaylar. Bitterness keeps me going. It's my fuel. And it's green in more ways than one.

Findus have served up far superior meals than some of the shit I've tasted at the hands of Ramsey, Worral-Thompson and Oliver.

Who care's about Ariel Leve's hang-up's? I'm sure Sunday Times readers don't.You may think I'm an attention seeker but she gives the words 'attention' and 'seeking' substance.

I still don't know who Rod Liddle shagged to be so ubiquitous.

I'm nothing like Perez Hilton. Whoever they are. I get the feeling he LOVES the subjects he discusses, almost to an unhealthy sexual degree. His targets are far too soft and predictable, whereas with me everyone's a target, everyone's a bastard out to screw you.

The Ronsons: A fairytale that never was

2007-09-08T14:32:00.000+01:00

I never told this anyone before but it's true. In the mid 90s, before I met Fritz, I used to be in a band called 'The Ronsons'. We were basically a crappy covers act doing what we thought were quirky, jazzy, cover versions of ska/post punk and new wave. Our look was a punky meeting between Edwardian and Victorian, with a touch of neo gothic thrown in...mixing it up...and everytime we spoke to anyone in this guise we'd always say 'yeah' at the end of every sentence.

We thought we were so cool and post modern. I'm positive George Lamb would have loved us. We were working on an album that would change the world, full of covers of 'yeah, yeah' pop, 70s disco, Manchester indie...but keeping it ever so LDN real. Record companies told us we were shit and our style and image would never work. Of course one of the members Mark left, made a really shitty annoying version of a Radiohead song and made an album of awful, awful covers with some dreadful people. (He couldn't sing then either) And currently George Lamb and every LDN record exec are spunking over him and his coke headed mates.

It's a funny old world.

Mind That Child!

2007-09-03T15:49:00.000+01:00

For heaven's sake won't somebody please think of the children, please! It's been a while since my last post as I , like most of you, have been engaged in the hunt for Maddie, which MUST take priority over everything in our lives. Fears are now escalating since the recent sightings of the poor child in Greece. You wonder if only Elvis has had more false sightings for all the good it does anyone. It's clear that this campaign to reunite this blonde , white, middle class, christian aspiring girl to her painfully dedicated parents hasn't gone FAR enough. The banner ads, the avatars, the websites, visits to the pope, the FA cup final, the planned charity single and the projection on the moon are all very well but will it raise awareness to inspire a crook to go 'fair cop, guv!' Indeed, will anything? Perhaps a reward should go to the abductors. That seems to be the only way we might get a breakthrough and it seems no less cynical than the alternatives we've seen over last couple of months.

No, it's clear. We're not pretending to care enough? We're not releasing enough balloons! Has anyone contacted the UN? And what the hell are the witchunters on the Sky News Forums doing about it? Don't they realise that it's the sacred duty of the stupid and misguided to continually post how concerned and caring they are and marry it with the brutality and suspicion they give to anyone who 'may' be a suspect? If we want to raise awareness, and it's very well, appearing to 'mean well' but what about the hundreds of missing kids every week, who don't have or get access to the media, that don't have the same opportunities? 'Maddie' is not a mere symbol of all the missing kids and 'every parents worst nightmare'. She's become yet another example of media hype, moral panic and the drive to sell more copy, the cynical trophy of the newsworthy girl with well to do parents with looks to match. She encapsulates the cosy, perfect idea of the nuclear family, which is more heightened than that of the kids from the streets, the black kids, those from broken homes and council estates and all the other poor sods who get abducted, murdered and god knows what every day. I'm not suggesting they deserve out sympathy any more or any less but you probably don't need a 'blogger' like me to say that there should be balance, and yeah, it's shit that there isn't, but for fuck's sake, those of you, who haven't realised the other agendas going on are the ones to wake up, instead of posting your fucking banners to show what a great human being you are. In fact why not fill every single web page of all the banners of all the missing people of the world who undoubtedly have parents no matter what age they are? But hey, I guess I'm not saying anything that you haven't already read or thought about anyway.

What's the deal, Noel?

2007-07-03T16:28:00.000+01:00

When Deal or No Deal first came onto our screens a couple of years ago now it was a strange and curious, not to mention addictive little novelty for all the dole scum and housewives, and an interesting alternative to the majority of shitty middle class childrens television (apart from My Parents Are Aliens which is actually very amusing).

Yes, it was theatrical TV, there was an unseen banker, greedy contestants and Noel was back! Hey! It was like 1993 again, if you forgive 1997's Brass Eye gaff where he came across as a bit pompus and childish just because he chose to condem a non-existent drug called cake. Then there was the end of the series where it was reported that he killed Clive Anderson and escaped in a helicopter. So for a while it's been nice to have him back. was all nice. A honeymoon of sorts. But I don't think he's ever had a day off.

I'm fucking bored of it now. It's on EVERY DAY. I stopped watching about a month or so after it started but whenever I'm at home and I catch a bit of it, I realise that it's got more pathetic. In another great example of SPS (Stupid Public Syndrome) contestants bring all their little photos, teddies and cards and mascots in the daft and their shitty systems, in the belief that it'll have some impact on how much money they go away with. They even think by being 'positive' and cheering, inducing audience applause and hysterics it makes a FUCKING DIFFERENCE! (I'm so glad when they get next to fuck all. I'm almost erect.) And when the rest of the contestants link hands I just want to cut their arms off. Stupid fucking cunts!

One culprit, among many of this stupid spiritual approach to positive thinking has to be this jism called 'Cosmic Ordering' which evidently has made many people a lot of money, like all other fads, which is positive of course for your Edmonds', McKenna's of the world. The idea that you ask the cosmos to bring your vague dreams is of course bullshit, Astrology at best, and like all these arseholes with dreamcatcher's and fucking tarot cards, and astral projection and those who believe in the abstract 'spiritualism', it's just quackery. Do me a favour, if you meet anyone who describes themselves as being 'spiritual' just kick them between the legs. These fuckers only say this shit to appear all sensitive and to get laid.

Speaking of damb squibs, how long must Ricky Gervais act like his 'dance' is an albatross to try to elicit a transparent response so he can do the tiresome routine AGAIN! Message to Rick: Write some new fucking new funny new material and stop riding on the coatails of past successes and past comedians. Better still, give it up. You make Peter Kay seem quite good.

SONY vs Religion

2007-06-14T12:06:00.000+01:00

Sony bosses last night have called for a ban of all religious icons, products and its 'a-hem...teachings', citing, its 'corruption of youth, the naive, the gullible and stupid weak people.' A spokesperson for some company or other said 'Here we go again. Yawn,yawn, double standards. Crusdades an everything...' The scientist, Professor Richard Dawkins was unavailable for comment.

Why I should be the new Director-General of the BBC by Smirnov Kool

2007-03-17T14:05:00.000Z

As the new boss of the BBC I would push for the license fee to be raised to £2,000 a year. Which is a fair amount when you consider what it will fund.

-a continuation of massive pay rises for key staff and media personalities, including BBC institutions such as Terry Wogan, Jonathan Ross, Graham Norton and Natasha Kaplinksy. Oh, and Fiona Bruce, since the 10pm News slot is SO important.

- More self-satisfying adverts for the BBC channels at EVERY OPPORTUNITY.

-Drama and Comedy will continue to be produced at a fraction of our US counterparts. And it will show.

-More game shows like Strictly Come Dancing and spin off's featuring F-list celebrities, funded by YOU, the license payers, and those who pay the telephone bills, whether or not you are able to have your vote counted, you pigs.

-More money will be plunged into delivering MORE formulaic half-hearted dramas and comedy programmes, esepcially for BBC3 to further the careers of the unfunny and uninspired writers and actors and creatives, who have fuelled the rage of many a bitter student rag and blog writer.

-More cash for Russel T. Davies and his producer friends for them to have massive piss up's, and for their sex orgies to take place at various penthouse flats where coke and swinging will go on in front of 70" plasma screens, running loops of Torchwood. Perhaps there is enough scope for yet ANOTHER spin off of Doctor Who called ROSEWOOD or CASSANDRAWOOD. Or even a Doctor Who spin off channel called WHO CARES, BBC?

-More cash for BBC new stationery, some new offices, carpets, desks, water coolers (for those essential water cooler moments the BBC dream of producing) and more desks, and offices, and nifty Apple desktop computers and MacBook pros. (Put me down for a Titanium one with the Super Combo drive)

-An increase in my personal salary, at least 250% which is reasonable for an executive like me who has to do all the really hard work, putting in more overtime, delivering more presentations, planning, researching, meetings, getting my PA to get my banana bread delivered on time. It's tough, making tough decisions. Money's not everything you know.

-Even though the rivers of cash we've had flowing for years and the profits we've amassed could afford us the opportunity to give something back that we lack in quality such as a successful Digital Switchover, which we already know won't happen untill 2015, certainly after the 2012 Olympics, we won't foot the bill for license payers to arrange LCD/plasma screens, digital set-top boxes or anything, we'll plunge some of it towards MORE and MORE pointless costume dramas of the most mediorce British novelists and writers.

-We're planning a mandate that doesn't only require householders to pay the TV license but ANYONE who watches television. I am sure that everyone is only too pleased to contribute to our beautiful and talented institution which brings you quality television like Comic Relief, the National Lottery and all those programmes that allow you to interact with your too generous financial contributions ON TOP OF YOUR LICENCE FEE. That's why we give you something back like Planet Earth and Walking With Dinosaurs. The awards we win are YOUR awards, but obviously you don't get to keep them. And because we remain a FORWARD THINKING company, as a treat to you this is what we shall propose.

-4 new channels. (Subscription obviously. Which is compulsary)

BBC FETISH. Dedicated to soft core porn. (£399 per year)

BBC DEMIX
youtube for television. A channel that broadcasts your three mins of pranks, meaningless monologues, dance routines, car surfing and mindless stupidity. (£30.00 per month.)

BBC ELITE
a channel dedicated to chin stroking reviews of cultural events featuring Mark Lawson interviewing a question mark, during the forthcoming Italin Futurist season.

BBC REGIONAL
Why only have an hour or so of news bulletins and reports from your own regional area when you can have rolling 24 hour news footage of mundane happenings and the odd pointless stabbing for the Region AS IT HAPPENS? BBC REGIONAL is the answer.

We may also rethink our strategy on the National Lottery. Maybe we could lose 'Casuality' and dedicate Saturday evenings to three hour long programs to gaming, phone in's and quizzes. Channel Five are welcome to their fucking Prison Break's and CSI's.

In the spirit of the new technology and lust for the nostalgic, which was exemplified by the pilot for 'Duet Impossible;. where through the magic of television classic deceased artists were unitied with 'living' by musically deceased artists, maybe we could bring back classic BBC shows and presenters. Imagine Nick Ross with Jill Dando, together again, as Crimewatch, is on the case for some immigrant crackhead.

So there you are. Keep funding the BBC. Without your input we couldn't possibly continue make challenging, daring programmes that set us apart from the rest. We really are great. Really. Everything's great.

Best Before's Bitter Review of 2006

2006-12-27T19:14:00.000Z

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

The Best Before Christmas Special Selection Box (Bumper Edition!)

2006-12-16T15:12:00.000Z

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

Breaking News...fear and loathing everywhere

2006-10-26T16:52:00.000+01:00

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.