Two Years Gone

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is the fact that I've been writing this blog for two years now.

In fact it's exactly two years today, so please humour me as I plunge to whole new levels of self indulgence. It may come as a surprise to learn that a lot of ideas I have for blogs don't actually make it through to completion. "I'd like to see the shit that doesn't make it on to this fucking blog!" I hear you snark. Well be careful what you wish for, because here are my top 5 blogs that never made it.

5. Ideas for films: 

This one was abandoned when I remembered that my imagination isn't good enough to come up with any more than The Humane Centipede (in which they just hold hands) and the plot for The Hangover 3, where they wake up to discover a load of chopped-up dead women in the fridge, and the first person they ask tells them that they murdered lots of women before they even started drinking.

Talking of films, I just saw Sinister which is notable only for some of the most laughably awful exposition dialogue I've ever heard: "Wait, we didn't move into a house two doors down from a murder scene again, did we?" Genuinely.

And talking of terrible names for films, as I was last blog, what the fuck is up with The Perks of Being a Wallflower?

4. More horror movie cat deaths:

Because one blog about cats who die in horror films just isn't enough. But then the only additional one I could remember was the cat in Pet Sematary who's unlucky enough to die twice in the same film. Anyway, it turns out that one blog about cats who die in horror films is definitely enough.

3. My top 5 characters who are in love with sex dolls:

But I could only think of three: Dennis Hopper in River's Edge (not actually Dennis Hopper, but a character), James Franco in 30 Rock (actually James Franco) and Krieger in Archer (well not a sex doll but a hologram. Swings and roundabouts.)

2. There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is Nicholas Parsons:

Abandoned for obvious reasons. Still, he is a cunt.

1. People I've called a cunt in dreams:

Again, there weren't enough instances to form a complete blog. So far the list is just Beyoncé and the cunt from Kasabian.

Thanks for indulging me in what can only be described as "a new low", and for reading my blog at all over the past two years. You insane, beautiful people. The title of this blog is one fifth of the Led Zeppelin song Ten Years Gone. I'll leave you with all five fifths of it, enjoy!

Remember The Name

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is films with stupid names.

"Right, we need a name for this big new sequel," says Mr. Hollywood to a room full of dead-eyed rich men. 

One of them raises a clammy hand.

"How about Transformers: Dark of the Moon"? 

Everyone laughs.

"We can't call it Transformers: Dark of the Moon", chuckles Mr. Hollywood, wiping a bloody tear from his eye, "that's just fucking ridiculous."

"But why can't we?" he replies, "why does it matter?"

"Well, people won't come to see it," explains Mr. Hollywood.

"Yes they will. They'll come to see it regardless of what we call it. We could call it Transformers: I Fucked Your Mum if we wanted. People would still see it."

"Wait a minute, you're right! And to think we spent all of 2 minutes coming up with the title of the previous one, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen."

"Also, I've seen the film, and there's really no need to even pretend to care about the audience at this point."

"Good work, have a million billion dollars. Now let's name the rest of these pieces of shit in five minutes then head to the strip club."

Or something like that, I'm no expert. The point is, Hollywood care so little about their audiences that they call their movies whatever piece of awful they like, and in some cases seem to deliberately come up with stupid names. Having had the same complaint about album names, it's even worse for films and especially bad this year. So here are my 12 Worst Named Films of 2012.

12. What to Expect When You're Expecting

This snappily-titled film is named after a pregnancy handbook, so it could just as easily have been called Mommy Guilt or HypnoBirthing, both of which would have been a drastic improvement. Anyway I've not seen it, but it is definitely shit.

11. Piranha 3DD

The problem, aside from the obvious sexism, is that 3DD isn't a plausible bra size. Correct me if I'm wrong, again I'm no expert. As Alex points out in his excellent review, they should have called it Fish 'N' Tits. Anyway I've seen it and it is definitely shit. 

10. Jeff, Who Lives at Home

We don't need the main character's life story in the fucking title. 

Spider-Man, who shoots webs. 

Citizen Kane, who dies. 

Jaws, who is a shark.

Anyway I've not seen it, but it is definitely shit.

9. Martha Marcy May Marlene

Ok this isn't a Hollywood movie, and I think I'd love it. But an unpronounceable name? What are you, Prince?

8. Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

Basically, I don't like long titles. If I'm bored while reading the title, it does not bode well for the actual film. Anyway, not seen it, definitely shit.

7. For a Good Time, Call...

One of the most loathsome looking films ever has one of the most stupid names ever. It doesn't make any sense! How the fuck am I meant to pronounce that?! Why is there an ellipsis and a comma in the name of this film?! Anyway it's not even out yet, but it's definitely, definitely shit.

6. Star Wars: Episode 1 - The Phantom Menace 3D

George Lucas: "How can we make this ridiculous title any worse? I know, we'll add 3D on the end!" 

Prick.

5. Anna Karenina 

If I were Tolstoy's publisher, I'd say: "It's great Leo, I love all the... sex? [I've not read it, there's sex though right?] The only thing is the name. Karenina. It's impossible to pronounce without sounding like a dick."

4. Avengers Assemble

Or as everyone calls it, The Avengers. Because no, Hollywood, we're not going to get it confused with the 1960s TV show because we're not a bunch of fucking idiots. You might as well have called it Avengers, Meet Back Here in 10, Maybe 15 Minutes. Make Sure You Go to the Toilet First... Thor.

3. Katy Perry: Part of Me 3D 

Yeah.

2. W.E

A film by Madonna that sounds like a toilet.

1. Now Is Good

Now Is Good? Was that dreamt up by a thick child? It makes no sense, it's unbelievably annoying, and fuck off. I've not seen it, but Now Is Good is shit.

Thanks for reading, I'll leave you with the Fort Minor song that this blog is named after. Enjoy!

The Evolution of Gayness

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is this piece of news. 

If you can't be arsed to read that article, I'll sum it up for you: Nick Clegg says something right for once; forced to apologise.

The second that Clegg went into coalition with the Tories he put his spine up for sale on eBay, with the comments: "Good quality, I just no longer have any need for it. Collection only." Since then he has folded on everything from tuition fees to Lords reform, and making jokes about him has become as boring as Nick Clegg. Okay there might still be some mileage in that. But today, he surprised everyone by calling opponents of gay marriage "bigots", and was right to do so. However, he was forced to withdraw the comment, because the world is a ridiculous and backward place.

Apparently it's okay to discriminate against people based on their sexuality, but it's not okay to call those who do so "bigots", despite that being exactly what they are. It's a bit like the time Gordon Brown had to apologise to that bigoted woman after he called her a "bigoted woman", but even worse.

Former Archbishop of Canterbury Lord Carey said that Clegg's statement was "very offensive", displaying a lack of self-awareness you'd normally associate with children or inanimate objects. This man, Jim Carey or whatever his name is, goes "I can do this, but you can't purely because you are gay," and then claims to be "very offended" when challenged. What's more offensive than denying someone their rights and dignity based on their sexuality? Well according to Lord Jim Carey, the word "bigot" is worse. He thinks that a single word which has no effect on his rights as a person is offensive, while trying to stop people from enjoying the same rights as him. It doesn't just show total hypocrisy, it shows a complete lack of humanity.

Nick Clegg actually stands up and says something important, and the bigots claim that it's a violation of their rights, and it's him who has to apologise. It's beyond parody. Coalition for Marriage actually called Clegg's comments "intolerant." Let's go through that: A group committed to preventing equal rights for gay people called someone else "intolerant". And rather than being laughed at for their fucking idiocy, they got their way. Nick Clegg did withdraw his comments, which is always a bizarre thing to happen, someone retracting something they've said. We know they think it, but suddenly they've un-said it so it's okay? Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, the world is fucking stupid.

"This is not the way the Deputy Prime Minister behaves," said Tory MP Peter Bone, managing to string enough caveman sounds together to form a coherent sentence, albeit a fucking awful one. No, it's not the way the Deputy Prime Minister behaves; but maybe it should be. Maybe if our politicians weren't afraid to be honest then politics in this country would be less reactionary, less close-minded and less boring. Let's allow people to actually express their opinions without insisting they stick to some unbearably tepid party line. Let's stop being bullied by bigots who claim to be offended while discriminating based on sexuality. Let's stop stifling free speech while upholding bigoted laws.

Thanks for reading, this blog is named after the brilliant Baba Brinkman song in which the rapping biologist explains how homosexuality might survive genetically using the power of hip-hop. Enjoy!

Killers of the New Frontier

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is The Killers.

That's all I have to say really. Thanks for reading!

Fine, I'll elaborate. This came to my attention on Twitter yesterday (which was my birthday thanks) and the fact that Brandon Flowers (from off of The Killers) and Jimmy Carr (from off of not paying tax) are friends is simultaneously totally bizarre and completely logical. Of course they're friends, they probably sit around talking about themselves.

It's also interesting to learn where The Killers actually get their ideas from. I always assumed they scraped them from the bottom of a massive barrel. But it turns out they get them from Jimmy Carr. So in a way I was right. But what other bands are actually being fed ideas by television comedians? Are Muse songs based on Russell Howard routines? Does Michael McIntyre write for Kings of Leon? Is Frankie Boyle friends with Coldplay?

So Jimmy Carr looks up from his dinner and says: "It seems that humans get annoyed when you don't pay tax. It's as if they care about the economy more than they care about me. What's that all about? Anyway, you should write a song about the economy." At which point Brandon Flowers spits out a mouthful of... flowers, I guess, and exclaims: "The economy! Why didn't I think of that?!" These are all direct quotes by the way.

I can only assume that the resulting song, "Deadlines and Commitments", is as profound and important as we've come to expect from The Killers. No doubt it has already solved all the economic problems in the world, just through the power of music and Mormonism. 

But that's all fine; if Brandon Flowers and Jimmy Carr are having dinner together then at least they're not out in the world. What's not fine, however, is Brandon Flowers saying:

"Guitar bands aren't writing songs. Write a f**king song, get over yourself. There aren't any. Where are they? Dance music cannot compete with a really great rock and roll song ... There ain't no DJ that's gonna play something that can take 'Mr Brightside' or 'Don't Look Back In Anger'. Those songs are better than that."

What the fuck does Brandon Flowers know about rock and roll? I know it's hard to define, and in fact it's easier to say when things are definitely not rock and roll. So here are some things that are definitely not rock and roll:

Being a Mormon. Two things that we know go hand in hand with rock and roll are of course sex and drugs. But Mormonism prohibits both sex and drugs. Including coffee. Coffee! Admittedly, Mormonism is associated with polygamy which could be kind of rock and roll... but Brandon Flowers only has one wife, so he's not even rock and roll within the Mormon community. So no Brandon Flowers, being a Mormon - who, let's not forget, forbid sex and alcohol and coffee - is not rock and roll.

Being friends with Jimmy Carr. Being friends with comedians could be rock and roll; being friends with Bill Hicks, now that would be rock and roll. But you're not friends with Bill Hicks, you're friends with Jimmy Carr. And that's not rock and roll; it's just very, very boring.

The Killers. The Killers are not rock and roll. You mentioned "Mr Brightside", Brandon Flowers. In fact, you mentioned it as an example of one of the greatest songs ever, despite it being your own song. After using the phrase "get over yourself." But anyway, is "Mr Brightside" rock and roll? That song that plays in clubs to squeeze out every last drop of every young person's individuality? Is that rock and roll? Is that what Led Zeppelin fought for? I know they didn't fight, the point is, The Killers are not rock and roll. 

Thanks for reading, the title of this blog comes from the song Wind Below by Rage Against the Machine, who very much are rock and roll. Enjoy!

The Plan

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is Ben Drew.

In the latest instalment of the always brilliant Kermode & Mayo podcast, they interviewed Ray Winstone and Ben Drew about their upcoming film The Sweeney, which I won't prejudge, other than to say it looks shit.

But the worst bit of the interview came from Ben Drew (AKA Plan B), have a listen: 

I'm sorry I just made you listen to almost two minutes of Ben Drew talking. They're two minutes you won't get back, two minutes in which you could have done something more fun, like staring at a wall or eating a rusty nail.

The reason that clip made me so angry is because it's a classic example of one of the worst things ever: successful people complaining about their success. It's like the humblebrag, but without even the pretence of humbleness. A brag, I guess. 

Ben Drew complains about working without holidays, except for two holidays which "ain't enough." He complains about being in the immensely privileged position of being able to pursue whichever project he chooses. He complains about being successful.

He hates being famous, and I'm with him on that one; I hate that he's famous. He hates music and films, and again I sympathise, because I hate his music and his films. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. We should meet for a drink some time, if he ever gets a gap in his impossibly hectic schedule.

Poor Ben Drew, he doesn't even get the weekend off, like "normal people" do, and what a lovely phrase that is too. The "normal people" have it so easy, not like the supernormal Ben Drew, with his tireless work, without which we'd all die.

Sarcasm aside, Ben Drew just sounds churlish and ungrateful by claiming that he's somehow worse off than "normal people". Hearing him complaining about having to spend two years promoting an album like it's the hardest thing in the world is just painful. The reality is that any one of those "normal people" would swap lives with Ben Drew in a heartbeat. Well actually, they wouldn't, because then they'd have to be Ben Drew. 

Also, if he works so very hard, then why is everything he does so shit? I think that's actually my main problem here; Ben Drew is fucking shit. I probably wouldn't mind him complaining about how successful he is, if he wasn't so absolutely fucking shit. I've not seen him in anything, nor have I seen the film he directed, or heard much of his music beyond the total fucking shit that's always playing everywhere, but still, he is shit.

Thanks for reading, I'll leave you with the Poets of Rhythm song that this blog is named after. Enjoy!

Purrfection

As you know, I love everything in the world, with the exception of three things. Two of those things that I love the most are horror films, and cats.

When the two meet, it tends to end badly for the cat. There are some famous exceptions; Jones from Alien survives, as does Claude in Black Christmas (presumably) and of course the stray cat who Patrick Bateman almost feeds to the ATM in American Psycho. Presumably those cat actors are in a strong union.

I can't be the only one who breathes a sigh of relief when he only kills the human, rather than the cat. It's odd, but I care more when animals die in films than when humans do. Well, it's not that odd, it's perfectly explainable; I hate humans and I like animals, especially cats. So here are my top 5 cat deaths in horror films: (WARNING: Contains spoilers and dead cats.)

5. Straw Dogs 

Sam Peckinpah's classic should be called Straw Dogs and Dead Cats, thanks to this scene in which Dustin Hoffman finds his cat hanged in a wardrobe. As in the case of most cinematic cat murders, this is a warning; "To prove to you that they could get into your bedroom." It seems a bit extreme though, they could just as easily have hidden his jeans or something.

4. Kill List

In what is probably an homage to Straw Dogs, the cat in the incredible Kill List meets the same grizzly end. Killing animals is famously a sign of psychopathy. Let's face it, you'd have to be a monster to murder an adorable cat. Unless it was really annoying.

3. Scream

Okay, so this isn't strictly speaking a cat death; if you're going to be all pedantic about it then yes, Rose McGowan is technically a human. But she is killed in a cat flap and it turns out I haven't done enough research, so it counts.

2. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

I won't use a picture for this one, because if you've seen David Fincher's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo then you'll probably remember the horrifically mutilated cat, and if you haven't then I don't want to spoil it. Basically, it's one of the most horrible things ever. Let's move on.

1. Drag Me to Hell

My favourite horror film cat death comes in Sam Raimi's brilliant Drag Me to Hell, in which a girl denies a mortgage extension to an old gypsy woman who, in revenge, puts a curse on the girl which will send her to hell in three days. At one point, in a desperate bid to send an animal sacrifice in her place, the girl kills her own cat. Long story short, it doesn't work, and the cat comes out of someone's mouth at the end. You don't get that in Sam Raimi's Spider-Man films...

Thanks for reading this blog, which will presumably be all over the tabloids when I'm inevitably admitted to an institution of some sort. Next time - dog deaths! 

I'll leave you with the excellent Submotion Orchestra song on which the title of this blog so innovatively puns. Enjoy!

Shut Up

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is Boris Johnson.

It's bad enough that we're meant to love having a funny mayor, the word "funny" here meaning "racially insensitive" and "unfunny". Call me boring, but I think the requirements for representing London, with all its vibrant diversity, should be more than just a few appearances on an increasingly terrible TV panel show with silly hair and a posh voice. "But he chased away those people that time!" Fuck off. He's a right-wing self-publicist who can't open his mouth without being inappropriate, or sexist, or otherwise offensive. So no, I don't find him funny, because I'm not a child or a racist.


So imagine my absolute delight when this happened. I know that complaining about the content of The Sun is akin to criticising a child's drawing, but it seems that Boris Johnson's comments are part of a serious problem. He's telling us to "cut out the whining" about the Olympics, which is awful enough because you can hear it in his stupid voice. But what's really troublesome is that by "whining" he means criticising. There's something genuinely worrying about members of the government effectively telling us to shut the fuck up. 


It would be too easy to dismiss these comments as a light-hearted bit of fun from Boris Johnson, or "Boris" as he's vomit-inducingly known. That's how he gets away with being a fucking idiot, people just shrug and say, "oh it's just Boris, he was so funny on Have I Got Shit For Brains." He's not your slightly racist grandmother, he's the fucking Mayor of London. He's an elected representative, and as such we have a right to criticise him. He can't tell us to "put a sock in it", no matter how hilariously fucking quaint it sounds. He has to listen to us. That's his job. "Enough whimpering" is not a legitimate response to legitimate criticisms. Not only is it insultingly patronising, it's an attempt to close down discussion. Democracy should be about dialogue. Boris Johnson's attitude is problematic because when he supposedly playfully says shut up, he actually means it.


Boris Johnson isn't the only offender though, this is a conservative viewpoint; that we should just let the men in charge get on with it without making a fuss. A few months back, William Hague said that we'll fix the economy by working harder, "rather than complaining about it." Again, we're being told by our government to shut the fuck up, this time with legitimate criticism labelled as "complaining".

We are certainly not short of legitimate grievances; PC Simon Harwood has been found not guilty, because apparently hitting someone with a baton as they walk away from you is "reasonable force"; Jeremy Hunt still has a job, and isn't in constant pain which is completely unfair; yesterday the Treasury minister claimed it was "morally wrong" to pay builders in cash, which is obviously a much greater problem than rich people deliberately avoiding paying millions of pounds worth of tax; I was walking through St Pancras station earlier, and one of those screens with a big Olympics themed McDonald's advert wasn't working. Fix it, Boris Johnson. Fix it by hand.


But instead of listening to us, the government goes "ssh now, silly humans. Stick this special commemorative Jubilee lollipop in your mouth and be quiet while we spend £80 million on a big fucking yacht." We're given the Jubilee and the Olympics to shut us up for a bit, like parents giving their child a rattle to distract it from their messy and violent divorce. 

So I won't "cut out the whining" thanks, because as the government it is your job to listen to me. Well not me, obviously, because I don't live in London and also I'm a fucking idiot. But they constantly try to close down discussion and expect us to just be ruled without questioning, and that's not good enough.


Thanks for reading this rant, I'll leave you with the Madness song that this blog is named after. Enjoy!