BATMAN DOESN'T LOVE ME ANYMORE.
Look! Look! I have developed a grey hair! I am still more precocious then you, Stothardface, AND there's a typing error in yr book! I fucking win!
That. Has. To. Stop. And so does my grey hair joy. There's a bad precedent in my family, of my Dad going grey at twenty and my mother's brother having white hair from the age of seven. I mean... I don't want to go all grey, but a patch, especially a patch growing to the right of my head from where this hair is, would be cool.
Also, I have lost my wristband- no bad thing, many of you cry. Now you are less eighties, you believe. AND YOU ARE RIGHT. But I still don't like it. Despite my superparanoid brain, loosing it at work hasn't made me think someone broke into my locker on Friday nite, so there's a plus but still... I don't loose clothes. Ever. I just don't have one of those teenhoods full of ill-advised random public nudity, so there isn't really all the much chance for me to misplace things...
Look, just give me my soup. I want my soup, Goddamnit!
_chris! // 21:26
Credit: I think we made the bonus!
Debit: I'm not sure, and on the end of the letter around the store about making the bonus it said there was a buffet. Fair enough, but this being where it is, I can imagine them going to lengths to ensure people's bonuses don't get taken as tax- fair enough, you may say, but I really don't want me twenty thousand pennies being used to ply me with mini-quiches and chicken popsicles.
_chris! // 21:43
No, I'm more precocious!
Die, Anna Stothard, die! I don't care about you. I haven't read yr stupid book yet, but when I do I'm sure I'll find lots of problems with it. And I never read the column you had in the Observer when you were 16, but I'm sure it was even worse then this blog and and that people actually read it, unlike this blog, and while that may seem like a good thing it's actually reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally bad becuase now everyone reminds you of it and I'm sure you're thoroughly mortified by all this now. And I bet I have more fun at university then you, too, becuase I'm cooler and people like me more then you. Yr nose probablly isn't embarresingly bright red, either. So Ha! on that point too!
And I plan to send my English teacher out after you for you to make him fold into the floor in a deeply unsatisfactory death sequence after he threatens to become more powerful then you could possibly imagine, before he spents the rest of the plot arch being a disembodied voice that instructs me to "Use the spell check, Chris" and inquires "What? The fuck?? Why are you doing That Thing with the apostrophes??" before I somehow manage to beat yr pasty white ass for no discernable reason other then the fact that you're a meanie.
No, really- well done.
_chris! // 21:34
Some thoughts on 40.
I'ts hard to imagine just how Radio "Lisence Payers Money" Times managed to take bribes from C4 to put this on the cover- Izzard's interviewer doesn't like him, the fucking EDITOR doesn't like IT and the advert's bollocks. I mean really bollocks. Why would you get all yr actors together and make them talk to the camera, badly. It makesno sense. If there's one thing putting me off this programme, it's the porspectof a group of people THAT BAD at acting.
Also: if I hear about Izzard's naked arse one more time I will harm things.
So... yes. Other then that, I rather likes knives, and pretty things to do with knives, C4, the colour purle and Eddie Izzard. Thus I will tape all three eps and curl up and sleep infront of them when I've done all my coursework.
_chris! // 09:15
It’s very easy to not like Bang. For a start, there’s it’s Corporate Like GAP press release, and the badbad message board, which is one of those stupid-format ones so that topics will fall off if someone starts a new one, making discussion, like, really hard (it would be easy, and possibly wrong to generalise this to a reflection of the staff’s views on music journalism ect. Easy and possibly wrong, but pretty dan tempting… )
And then of course there’s it’s lack of a soap-box ranting editorial. Everyone needs a soap-box ranting editorial. The only zine I’ve ever gotten round to making was one big soap-box ranting editorial. But it’s not here. Maybe they just don’t wanna slap their New Rock Revolution Hyperbole Cock on the table and see how it compares to The NME’s New Rock Revolution Hyperbole Cock, but then that seems to be what this is all about… Just sloganeer and grow yr hair and get petty on each other’s asses, and let us write the slash.
But is that what this I about? Wells likes POP, and he likes shouting, and he doesn’t like you. That’s always a good sign (but then he also writes for The NME, so maybe his presence means very few jots at all), like maybe they won’t cite a page devoted to Buck 65 as evidence of their hip hop street cred. And then of course there are the artists… The Paul Pope drawn picture of The White Stripes, the funky picture of Wayne on the faux-agony uncle page and that supergroup feature at the end drawn by David Choe was pretty nice too. AND they don’t seem to be all No pop for us! We’re Serious Artists!, and will happily allow differences of opinion (see: Hot Hot Heat coverage).
But by far the best thing has to be that their entry for News on the 2nd of March reads t.A.T.u., whose video features two beautiful young women snogging, are finally bumped off No. 1 by Christian Aguilera, whose video features two beautiful men snogging. Even cooler. It’s sad that that gives me so much hope…
_chris! // 16:54
Apparently, today I've had two views from the General Medical Council, London, United Kingdom's server. Beans! This, however, still isn't as good as the time that the Iranian Research Organisation started reading me.
_chris! // 20:47
Arg! Fucking spam! Taking over my inbox! Can someone please tell me when and why graffiti.net gave up on pop-up adds and started sending the offensive pieces of tiny tiny irritation direct to my face?? I realise that pop-ups are fucking evil, but still... at least it didn't make my New Mail counter blatnetly fradulent.
In other news: I seem to have stopped caring about music, or books, or films, or fucking anything. It's irksome.
_chris! // 20:42
Oh yeh! I'm sure I'll get a list of contact details eventually, but if anyone who knows Lucy* reads this- don't bother phoneing or txting her, as she was pouring boiling water into a glass bowl and it blew up and tidal waved her phone. It's not in peices in her airing cupboard.
I lvoe how I don't even have to make up details in that. She really just blew up kitchenware and trashed her phone.
*Look! An update!
_chris! // 20:31
On the note of things that doesn't get any better: 24 last week featured the amazing line "You can't use your mobile phone in the hospital, it messes up the equipment"*
*Right up there with Footballer's Wives' "Won't your husband mind?"
_chris! // 20:09
One for the Fly in us all...
Timberlake in Will & Grace. He even gave his fee to charity! DOes this man get any better? No, no he bloody doesn't.
_chris! // 20:07
Freaky camera work is soaps- it’s bollocks, and you know it /
Why is it that the makers of soaps appear to be unable to get that they’re the only bastions of classical narrative left? You go from beginning to end almost all the time, with VERY CLEARLY DEFINDED CAUSAL RELATIONSHIPS and absolutely anything ever said by anyone has some sort of significance. You believe yrselves to be the great bastions of slice-of-life entertainment, and you have these weird pretensions of harking back to the British New Wave of the 1950s.
So please- stop pretending you’re not. Stop doing that thing with the camera where you stick it on a crane and swing it around on a cliff like in EastEnders with Phil and Lisa. Watching a soap, I do not want it shoved in my face that this is TV- I assure I, I am perfectly capable of realising that mad fathers/ex-lovers/intended murder victims do not often track their child’s mothers/their ex-lover/attempted murderer to Portugal in an attempt to snatch their baby back, only to find themselves on a cliff edge engaging in psychological mindfucks every day of the week. I get that this isn’t real. But please- let me pretend. I don’t want to know that the BBC gave you a lot of money to take that fucking crane you love so much on holiday with you.
I also don’t want an emotional warning in Hollyoaks. I know full well that when two gay men, one wearing pink, stand in a kitchen and look earnest at each other before doing that thing where they divulge their sexual pasts to each other, is going to involve lots of pained looks and face rubbing and agonising about how to come out to their parents*. I, as someone possessing a functioning brain, am entirely capable of watching this without having the camera cant from left to right. To left. To further left. To right. I applaud yr showing this sort of thing at half 6 but for God’s sake, why must you pretend that queer emotions are so “other” that the only way straight people can possibly cope with it is by bending their head by 20 degrees and squinting so everything looks a bit darker??
Classical narrative only works if plot is given the audience’s attention almost at the sacrifice of style. That’s the rules. Don’t like the rules? Do make Night And Day. See? Learn to like the rules. Don’t make the audience know they’re watching TV. Soap simply isn’t the medium to make people pause and go “mmm” and stroke their chin and make comments about the fourth wall.
Please just stop drawing attention to yrself, limit yrselves to an absolute maximum of three expositionary extreme close ups, don’t ever zoom, make the camera sit still almost all the time, don’t ever feel the need to close EVERY SINGLE WEEK with some in the snow looking lonely with a nice big fucking crane shot of the locale, and for God’s sake, make someone go bankrupt from drinking all day in a pub in London**.
*Does every single anecdote involving sex and a gay man always have some moral about coming out??
**Yes, I know I’m only really talking about EE. It's the only one I watch with any regulrity.
_chris! // 19:58
I this the least rock and roll thing ever?? Not the magazine, but the webpage.
I've still not read the magazine, actually, or even seen it. Which feels frustrating, but then I only heard about it on Friday, and haven't really been out of the house since then (except for all of saturday, but I didn't go near any shops). Even so, all the mentions here and here are still inciting deep inside that feeling that Waaaah! It's not faiiiiiir! that you get being 18 on a small island.
_chris! // 20:56
This weird thing just happened. Laying on my bed avoiding work and catching up on everything in Robots And Electronic Brains that I’ve missed, You buried your Face by Stars of Aviation* comes on my laptop. Every other time I’ve heard this song, it’s sounded like a high pitched boy singing, but just now it sounded like that woman from Hollyoaks who looks a bit like Pink and fancies the gay bloke she lives with.
Why did I tell you that?? I don’t know, but noticing it kinda sums up my day.
*I will not link for you, because not linking makes me seems cooler, like all my friends are as cool as me and I can nonchalantly throw in references to bands and assume they will all know what I’m talking about, even tho not even I have more then half a clue as to what is falling out of my mouth when I open it.
_chris! // 13:58