I have this bad habit which, I'm sure many of you would be 'trend-setters' share with me. I begin to hate something once it reaches a state of popularity which has inadvertently attracted children and teeny boppers unto it's following. My mind has trained itself to ignore the playful and inventive intricacies of things such as, The nightmare before Christmas. In all honesty, I quite like it, there's nothing offensive about it and it fantasises upon interesting conceptual devices, great. However, if someone were to ask me, "Hey, do you like that film, Nightmare before Christmas?". I would reply immediately, without hesitation, "no, it was utter shit and you're a prick" I would probably then walk away from this encounter with a pseudo smug sense of self-aggrandising victory, most likely smiling to myself for seemingly top-trumping someone with my projected aura of trivial superiority.
If all went well, that human would have hung his head and felt ashamed for enjoying things which are easily enjoyable instead of, like me, watching independent films about social disillusionment and culturally fluent lesbians. Granted, these films aren't funny in a way that makes you laugh or interesting in a way that makes your inner-child want to drink acid but, have you heard of them? No? Check-mate, I win.
This isn't me simply raving about Nightmare before Christmas, it wasn't that good. It pretty much has become utter shit since it became some kind of goth brand for disgusting looking bags and sweat bands. In general I think I am referring my bad habit to the hot topic nook in the corner of every HMV which currently stocks a piece of literature titled "Robsessed". I feel like it's the social equivalent of inviting clinically obese people into an all-you-can-eat-buffet. Yes, they would probably enjoy it but, they don't know what's good for them! You're not allowed to be happy if I hate or am jealous of the things that make you happy.
I am however, very away that if when Twilight was released everyone saw it for how I seem to see it and just thought, "what the fucking fuck is this? Why have they made vampires into infuriating, over dramatic cunts with hair styles and six packs?" I would probably like it, just because everyone else would hate it. It's what I do, It makes me feel edgy. I may seldom enjoy something but once it gets promoted to the culture show in HMV along side Banksy, Tim Burton, zombie based re-tellings of classic books and absolutely anything in reference to vampires, It becomes vomit and, I can't touch it. Except Twilight, that was always vomit. I'm looking forward to the finale of Twilight, Justin Bieber's first drug induced rampage, Miley Cyrus' first unplanned pregnancy scandal and How To Train Your Dragon coming out on DVD.
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
My teenage angst just wont die.
I'm sure there is a place where art doesn't exist and people are fascinated by the most basic and mundane creations however, my doormat is not such a place. Aside from the people who can only appreciate art by it's ability to recreate to an organic photographic standard, the community wants to see passion and creativity. I'm sure you feel as though you are pioneering the new standard but, stop showing me your "Hipstamatic" pictures. Playing with lego doesn't make you a builder and using a piece of technology which creates art for you, does not make you an artist. For example, sometimes, while I am on the phone, I make incoherent markings with a biro onto a piece of paper. I don't then take these cave scribbles and present them to the world because, they are thoughtless and have nothing to offer the audience. As a general rule, you should only use the distortion pedal if you can actually play guitar.
I feel strained by a constant veil of disappointment in the people around me, my generation doesn't seem to have anything of tactful substance to say to each-other. It's dominant form lays casually in the art of intentionally misusing language and desperately trying to appear interesting by intentionally being stupid or strange. I say "intentionally" through a fog of optimism. We seem to be drones of competitive attire, status, sexual prowess and attention while being a shoddy copy the diluted interpretation of media icons and external stimuli. If I stop what I'm doing for a moment, my mind doesn't immediately stray towards thoughts of violence, vagina and drugs. This apparently makes me strange and am something to be collectively excluded. Well, good. I like the zoo but, I wouldn't want to live there. The introspective solitude might make me feel crazy but at least I'm going crazy for being sane.
I feel strained by a constant veil of disappointment in the people around me, my generation doesn't seem to have anything of tactful substance to say to each-other. It's dominant form lays casually in the art of intentionally misusing language and desperately trying to appear interesting by intentionally being stupid or strange. I say "intentionally" through a fog of optimism. We seem to be drones of competitive attire, status, sexual prowess and attention while being a shoddy copy the diluted interpretation of media icons and external stimuli. If I stop what I'm doing for a moment, my mind doesn't immediately stray towards thoughts of violence, vagina and drugs. This apparently makes me strange and am something to be collectively excluded. Well, good. I like the zoo but, I wouldn't want to live there. The introspective solitude might make me feel crazy but at least I'm going crazy for being sane.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
3 a-day.
So, it's a hand that you place on your sleeping baby? Why are you trying to breed traumatised serial killers?
I suppose if your shopping list was so secret that a paper trail could jeopardise the mission, this would be useful. What are we actually paying for here? Transferable lines that go on your palm? They provide a pen that you use to write on your skin but, most pens write on your skin and are also capable of producing lines. Are the consumers of today concerned with the professionalism of the shopping list they have written on their body that imperfect, hand drawn lines to unnecessarily rest words on is unacceptable? I don't even know why I am trying to rationalise this, just use paper or memory.
This is called "the boyfriend arm pillow" but, unless your boyfriend is half a torso and an arm I foresee this items only purpose would be to frighten away potential real boyfriends once they find it in your house. It would sell much better if it was made exclusively for insane spinsters who are allergic to cats.
Sunday, 18 April 2010
You're so deep.
Here is your chance to be a song writer extraordinaire!
Do you find it hard to express your fascinating and universally unexploited teenage emotions? Well, struggle no longer!
Use the following words to fill up the blanks below.
Heart, Stars, pain, spill, suffering, darkness, love, breaks, cry, moon, breathe, beauty, misery, death, broken, solitary, sinking, nobody, die, prison, emptiness, dying, wrist, shadow, beautiful, blood, words, dead, poison, empty, dark, break, midnight, alone.
I'm the ______ of your _______
My _______ doesn't love me tonight.
The canvas is _______ and _______
I can't _________ without you, I'm not alright.
I feel ________ and he _______ my _______.
I wish I was ________ so I can survive
_______ is my only friend in the ________.
Only ________ _______ reminds me I'm alive.
So, ________ please, _________ my _______.
I'm the ________ in the ______ sky.
My _____ hurts me, _______ knows me.
I am ________ and I wish I would die.
Congratulations! You're a starving artist and have just written the anthem for your generation!
Tim Burton, My chemical romance, black t-shirts with white writing on them, hot topic, high school, dashboard confessional, studio ghibli, acoustic covers, myspace, fingerless gloves that extend to your elbow, wearing a neck tie with a t-shirt, free hugs, Johnny Depp, Naruto, Taking Back Sunday, being "random", hating parents, buying multi-coloured shoe laces, pretending to write a diary, scratching yourself with stationary, drawing manga.
Do you find it hard to express your fascinating and universally unexploited teenage emotions? Well, struggle no longer!
Use the following words to fill up the blanks below.
Heart, Stars, pain, spill, suffering, darkness, love, breaks, cry, moon, breathe, beauty, misery, death, broken, solitary, sinking, nobody, die, prison, emptiness, dying, wrist, shadow, beautiful, blood, words, dead, poison, empty, dark, break, midnight, alone.
I'm the ______ of your _______
My _______ doesn't love me tonight.
The canvas is _______ and _______
I can't _________ without you, I'm not alright.
I feel ________ and he _______ my _______.
I wish I was ________ so I can survive
_______ is my only friend in the ________.
Only ________ _______ reminds me I'm alive.
So, ________ please, _________ my _______.
I'm the ________ in the ______ sky.
My _____ hurts me, _______ knows me.
I am ________ and I wish I would die.
Congratulations! You're a starving artist and have just written the anthem for your generation!
Tim Burton, My chemical romance, black t-shirts with white writing on them, hot topic, high school, dashboard confessional, studio ghibli, acoustic covers, myspace, fingerless gloves that extend to your elbow, wearing a neck tie with a t-shirt, free hugs, Johnny Depp, Naruto, Taking Back Sunday, being "random", hating parents, buying multi-coloured shoe laces, pretending to write a diary, scratching yourself with stationary, drawing manga.
Sunday, 11 April 2010
ECIV
I don't understand games that strive to reflect the total fucking banality and pointlessness of real life.
The new Gran Turismo game is so pathetic and boring that on the first level you get to drive your mother's car at 40mph while sticking to a blue line for two minutes. If you stick at boring tasks like this for 15 days straight you get upgraded to a car that only a boyband member would ever consider driving. Like one of the guys out of Blue or something. Something sporty like a Porsche or Ferrari.
I don't know anything about cars. I think they're over-priced and the myth about them being girl magnets is a marketing tactic that only works on boys who have failed to develop beyond the playground at school. This type of game is simply a simulation of boredom and the decrepit lifestyle associated exclusively for Lynx/axe-smelling, spotty, human slug boys who read FHM, watch "spike tv" and don't respect their mothers. The point is, this game's all about cars, the reality of cars. You start off battling yourself and your personal sense of self-worth while feeling embarrassed to be driving a car that doesn't look like an electric shaver and make people around you with caps on backwards, flick their nose with their thumb and call you dude.
If you want to have a fun driving game, play mario kart or micromachines. If you can't be bothered leaving your room in order to feel the static of real life, while thinking the best way to describe beer is with the word "awesome". This game is for you.
The new Gran Turismo game is so pathetic and boring that on the first level you get to drive your mother's car at 40mph while sticking to a blue line for two minutes. If you stick at boring tasks like this for 15 days straight you get upgraded to a car that only a boyband member would ever consider driving. Like one of the guys out of Blue or something. Something sporty like a Porsche or Ferrari.
I don't know anything about cars. I think they're over-priced and the myth about them being girl magnets is a marketing tactic that only works on boys who have failed to develop beyond the playground at school. This type of game is simply a simulation of boredom and the decrepit lifestyle associated exclusively for Lynx/axe-smelling, spotty, human slug boys who read FHM, watch "spike tv" and don't respect their mothers. The point is, this game's all about cars, the reality of cars. You start off battling yourself and your personal sense of self-worth while feeling embarrassed to be driving a car that doesn't look like an electric shaver and make people around you with caps on backwards, flick their nose with their thumb and call you dude.
If you want to have a fun driving game, play mario kart or micromachines. If you can't be bothered leaving your room in order to feel the static of real life, while thinking the best way to describe beer is with the word "awesome". This game is for you.
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Life is like a hurricane, Here in Duckburg.
I was walking to Sainsbury's the other day with a cigarette in my hand. I noticed in-front of me was a non-threatening biker gang of children. These were no ordinary children, no, they were those infamous working class children. We hate them don't we? I can't remember, I tend to forget what social class we are supposed to hate, I think it's usually based on what film you have just watched. Let's say for example, you have just watched Oliver Twist, as the credits are rolling down the screen you may be thinking to yourself, "poor people are just dandy! I think I will smile at them from now on!". On the other hand, if you have just watched a film like Kidulthood, you might walk away thinking, "working class children scare the shit out of me, I have no idea what anyone is saying and I'm afraid one of the ones in a hooded jumper will try and fuck me or something".
There aren't really any films that promote rich people, I think generally the clientele of films is the middle/lower classes so the content of cinema is usually of "being happy" above everything else, including the possible variables which contribute to happiness, like money. You might have a moment where you reflect on the morales you learnt as a child and be thinking in your head, "You're wrong, money doesn't make you happy". Well, you're right, coins and paper won't/shouldn't make you happy but, that's sort of defeating the nature of money, it's the things you buy with it that make you happy. For example, a puppy, a soda-stream or a friend. It's all just like having a rich friend who keeps on telling you how shit being rich is and how life is best when you just stay in line and work hard. What's that poor person? You are getting depressed because you're poor? Don't worry, being rich will make you sad, here's a library of films to validate that, now get back to work. Let's just hope we don't figure out that the protagonist in the film who realises that money ruins your life and all you need is love is actually, played by an actor who will be getting rich from the film.
What am I even talking about?
I got closer to this infant gang and one of them, I think it was the leader, shouted at me in a most savoury manner. The gist of his noise suggested that he wanted one of the cigarettes I had bought with money, for free. I'm aware this kind of thing happens rather frequently and it's usually completely fine, especially when I want a cigarette. However, my quarrel with this little gent exists firstly in that he was probably around 13. I think it would harm the self-indulgent impression of myself if I feel like I am the "type of person" who would give children cigarettes. Secondly, the way he requested my belongings was executed in a manner of which suggested that my stuff, is also his stuff and I must therefore, give him my stuff. The twist of this story is that I said no and then got on with my life. However, after my encounter with these prison reservations, I wondered what I was like as a child, perhaps it was simply the way of human development to dismiss social grace, push the scope of what is expected in human interaction and try and intimidate people around you with a persona that suggests that you are a big person with a knife, trapped inside a little person with a bike. After much thought and self-reflection I came to the conclusion that, I was nothing like him, he's a cunt.
There aren't really any films that promote rich people, I think generally the clientele of films is the middle/lower classes so the content of cinema is usually of "being happy" above everything else, including the possible variables which contribute to happiness, like money. You might have a moment where you reflect on the morales you learnt as a child and be thinking in your head, "You're wrong, money doesn't make you happy". Well, you're right, coins and paper won't/shouldn't make you happy but, that's sort of defeating the nature of money, it's the things you buy with it that make you happy. For example, a puppy, a soda-stream or a friend. It's all just like having a rich friend who keeps on telling you how shit being rich is and how life is best when you just stay in line and work hard. What's that poor person? You are getting depressed because you're poor? Don't worry, being rich will make you sad, here's a library of films to validate that, now get back to work. Let's just hope we don't figure out that the protagonist in the film who realises that money ruins your life and all you need is love is actually, played by an actor who will be getting rich from the film.
What am I even talking about?
I got closer to this infant gang and one of them, I think it was the leader, shouted at me in a most savoury manner. The gist of his noise suggested that he wanted one of the cigarettes I had bought with money, for free. I'm aware this kind of thing happens rather frequently and it's usually completely fine, especially when I want a cigarette. However, my quarrel with this little gent exists firstly in that he was probably around 13. I think it would harm the self-indulgent impression of myself if I feel like I am the "type of person" who would give children cigarettes. Secondly, the way he requested my belongings was executed in a manner of which suggested that my stuff, is also his stuff and I must therefore, give him my stuff. The twist of this story is that I said no and then got on with my life. However, after my encounter with these prison reservations, I wondered what I was like as a child, perhaps it was simply the way of human development to dismiss social grace, push the scope of what is expected in human interaction and try and intimidate people around you with a persona that suggests that you are a big person with a knife, trapped inside a little person with a bike. After much thought and self-reflection I came to the conclusion that, I was nothing like him, he's a cunt.
Sunday, 28 February 2010
Gee! That's swell!
I watched Beauty and the beast the other day and I am struggling to find the morale of the whole thing. DIsney, by a standard, have to include some sort of message for the audience to take away so they can be Christian. Aladin had one I think, if you're homeless, not insane, have perfect teeth, have some kind of hyper intelligent animal companion and magic at your disposal; everything will work out fine. It was probably actually something to do with "being yourself", "never giving up", "don't judge a book by it's cover", "anyone can be a hero" or any other form of advice which is barely even applicable to modern society, unless you're 7 and exist primarily in your imagination.
The advice of, "Don't judge a book by it's cover" is nonsense anyway. You definitely should judge a book by it's cover, that's why people bother to design the cover in order to express the theme of the book. If a book about pirates had a picture of robots on it, it would be completely misleading and pointless. The same is applied to people, we dress in the way we want to be perceived by others. If you get fuck off" tattooed on your face, people are naturally going to assume you're a maniac and are best not to be approached. This is a sensible assumption to make and it could very well prevent you from being stabbed in the arm and or face. Alternatively, if you wear a suit, people will assume you have a certain level of decorum about you. There are obviously exceptions to this but, it's such a minority that it's not even worth putting into consideration. I very much doubt Mr. "fuck off" is actually a beautiful and caring individual.
Anyway, yeah, Disney and morales. I watched beauty and the beast and here's what happened, in short.
Something about a pretty girl
Something about a man/bear/pig thing in a castle
a talking clock
"Never go in the tower!!"
Pretty girl goes into tower
monster goes insane and starts trashing the place
girl is terrified
clock is terrified
Girl and monster end up falling in love
he's not a monster anymore.
Right.
It's about domestic abuse really. The monster gave the girl no other reason to love him other than fear. (I think there was a part when the girl found out that the monster liked music but, everyone likes music, who doesn't like music? get real.) The monster apparently turns into a human once they fall in love but, this looks like a classic case of a beaten wife in denial. It's very common for victims of domestic violence to be blind to the reality that they are living with a monster and instead, pretend everything is fine and they are married to a lovely prince who only hits them when they burnt the toast and deserve it.
I found it hard to find the morale in UP as well. If someone dies, GET OVER IT YOU BORING OLD BASTARD!
The advice of, "Don't judge a book by it's cover" is nonsense anyway. You definitely should judge a book by it's cover, that's why people bother to design the cover in order to express the theme of the book. If a book about pirates had a picture of robots on it, it would be completely misleading and pointless. The same is applied to people, we dress in the way we want to be perceived by others. If you get fuck off" tattooed on your face, people are naturally going to assume you're a maniac and are best not to be approached. This is a sensible assumption to make and it could very well prevent you from being stabbed in the arm and or face. Alternatively, if you wear a suit, people will assume you have a certain level of decorum about you. There are obviously exceptions to this but, it's such a minority that it's not even worth putting into consideration. I very much doubt Mr. "fuck off" is actually a beautiful and caring individual.
Anyway, yeah, Disney and morales. I watched beauty and the beast and here's what happened, in short.
Something about a pretty girl
Something about a man/bear/pig thing in a castle
a talking clock
"Never go in the tower!!"
Pretty girl goes into tower
monster goes insane and starts trashing the place
girl is terrified
clock is terrified
Girl and monster end up falling in love
he's not a monster anymore.
Right.
It's about domestic abuse really. The monster gave the girl no other reason to love him other than fear. (I think there was a part when the girl found out that the monster liked music but, everyone likes music, who doesn't like music? get real.) The monster apparently turns into a human once they fall in love but, this looks like a classic case of a beaten wife in denial. It's very common for victims of domestic violence to be blind to the reality that they are living with a monster and instead, pretend everything is fine and they are married to a lovely prince who only hits them when they burnt the toast and deserve it.
I found it hard to find the morale in UP as well. If someone dies, GET OVER IT YOU BORING OLD BASTARD!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)