Something I Noticed When The Light Was Just Right

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and here are five even more of them.

Not really, I don't hate these things, they're just things I've noticed over the last couple of days. Things that have made me go "hmm", to quote C+C Music Factory. This will be a short blog, I'm only writing it due to creative pressure from Simon, and I'm nothing if not a spineless pushover. So here's some things I've noticed.

5. There are "help points" scattered around the university. They look like this:



Very handy, useful for emergencies etc. But they're in such weird places. Like down footpaths. I know late at night a footpath can be dangerous, but if someone's being raped then is this the best precaution? Can they lean over and press the button and say:
"Help, I'm being raped."
"Where are you?"
"Down a footpath."
"We have these help points down all the footpaths, which one is it?"
"The one with the rapist?"
"We can't be sure that the rapist is there all the time, that doesn't help."
"Good point."
"Any distinguishing features?"

"He's quite tall..."
"No I mean of the footpath."
"Oh. Well he's gone now anyway. Thanks for the help! Point."
Or maybe its just there for lonely people who want a late night chat down a footpath. I'm sure they're helpful really, I just wish they'd existed 50 years ago...




4. Talking of rape, on the news yesterday there was a story about a rapist who'd been jailed, and they interviewed his mum, who said something along the lines of: "I don't know why he'd rape someone, after I'd specifically told him all about how I was raped as a child." And he was messed up you say? I'm no psychologist but I think we're getting somewhere.

3. It must be really tough being Future Ted from How I Met Your Mother, having to start everything he says with, "Kids..." It must have got him into some serious trouble.

2. I bought some gum, the kind that comes in a box as opposed to a packet:



And on the top of the box it says (using pictures): "In the car, at home, on the train... Take it anywhere!" Thank you Extra, for allowing me to take my gum where I like! Its so much more convenient than having to sit in isolation to chew. And having to fill out those complicated gum-relocation legal forms. Finally, a solution to the problem of un-transportble, massive, unwieldy packets of gum.

1. Yesterday I saw a woman walk right passed a homeless man asking for change, ignoring him, only to then go straight into Shelter, the shop for the homeless charity. It struck me as quite a funny state of affairs. She should have offered him the excuse.
"Excuse me, can you spare any change?"
"Oh no don't worry, I'm just going to buy something in Shelter now."
"Can't you just give me the money now? Buying something in Shelter won't directly help me."
"It will help all homeless people. I really do want to help homeless people."
"Then why don't you just give the money to me? A homeless person?"
"I also want to buy a scarf."
"I live in the doorway of KFC."

It was like:

So there were 5 things I noticed recently. Please comment with anything you've noticed! Or haven't noticed. Or would like to notice. Anything. Please. I will leave you with the song from which the title of this blog is from, Echo by Incubus.

Again and Again and Again and Again and Again

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and here are five more of them.

At the risk of resembling a Cracked article, I'm going to explain the top 5 things in TV shows, and in some cases films, that are so overdone that they need to stop.

A lot of things from film and TV were so overused that they became clichés, for example, the line whispered tearfully by a man to the girl he loves: "I have to let you go", and of course when the protagonist wakes up to discover it was all a dream. Things like that are generally now regarded as hackneyed and are universally avoided. Wait, weren't both of those examples used in Inception? Yes. But that's a blog for another time.

There are over-familiar devices that seemingly should have stopped by now, for example, the hero who doesn't play by the rules but by god he gets results. However this has been allowed to continue due to its successful execution in things like House and 24. Despite the best efforts of almost every Hollywood film.

But the ones I'm on about are more specific, so here, in reverse order, is my list of the top 5 most overused things in TV shows (and sometimes films) that really need to stop.

5. This one is mainly in films, horror films to be precise. You know in horror trailers, just after the name of the film comes up on the screen, ("The Occurrence" or "The Thing That Happened" etc.) the screen goes black, then a scary little girls voice whispers: "They are coming", before something jumps out and there's a scream, then its the end of the trailer? Well that's all overdone, all horror trailers are the same. But specifically, it's that "They are coming" bit. Sometimes its "We are coming" or "They're here" but its always there. It used to be creepy and effective, but now its so predictable that it really needs to stop. Especially because "We are coming" is a hilarious phrase, particularly when said by loads of kids, as in Torchwood: Children Of Earth. Despite that, I quite liked Children Of Earth, but that's mainly because of Peter Capaldi. Anyway, maybe they could replace these hack phrases with something like "We will be with you in 2 to 3 working days." For a film called "THE AMAZON. They're bringing your parcel but they won't specify a time, so you CANNOT LEAVE YOUR HOUSE. '5 stars' - Radio Times. 'Speedy delivery and very good condition' - Empire."

4. The joke where an old person says something 'outrageous.' It's normally in sitcoms, when maybe two young women are talking about a guy, and one says "he is gorgeous," and the other says "very good looking," and then an old woman says "I wouldn't say no." And there's a shocked pause and then they all laugh. HAHAHAHAHA. She's old, but made a sex joke! That shouldn't be allowed anymore. It's not funny, or shocking, it's just overdone and patronising to old people.

3. Psychiatrist scenes in dramas. Its normally good in comedy, for example that episode of Black Books is ace. But in dramas its normally just a device for externalising a characters' feelings. Good programmes will show a characters' feelings through dialogue and acting, but so many bad shows just cheat by getting a character to lie on a sofa and literally say how they feel. That's handy, no actual acting or proper writing required! It's lazy and used in so many shows, mostly American, when they refer to "seeing a shrink." It's a cop out, a lazy, tired plot device and needs to stop. Having said that, it works in Mad Men. Maybe I haven't thought this one through...

2. Gina McKee. She can fuck off. The BBC insist on putting her in every drama they do, always playing the same character (the anxious mum) who always delivers every line in a way that's as wooden and as empty as a door frame.

1. The line: (Angrily; Shouted; Man to his wife) "I work day and night to put food on this table!" Despite what almost every drama would have you believe, no one has ever, EVER, said that.

So that's the 5 most overdone things in TV shows and sometimes films. The sooner they stop, the sooner the quality of programming will rise. The title of this blog comes from one of my favourite songs of all time, Make It Wit Chu by Queens Of The Stone Age, with which I will leave you.

Funky Runthrough

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and here are five of them.

I don't have enough to say on one particular issue, so here is the run-down of the five things that have most annoyed me since I last blogged. Imagine the TOTP Whole Lotta Love riff in the background as you read.

5. The film Green Zone. How could a film about weapons of mass destruction be boring? Well they managed it. Nothing happens for most of the film, and then there's a ludicrously long chase sequence at the end. The most annoying thing about it is the way Matt Damon is the only one to think, wait a minute, what if there are no weapons of mass destruction? Well done Matt Damon. Now maybe show less fucking contempt towards the Iraqis? Oh, no he just spat on some more of them. Silly Iraqis. Look how angry they get when you invade their country! Hahahaha. And that one's only got one leg!!! I don't like war films generally, but this was the least engaging film I've seen for a long time.

4. The fact that I've apparently got to do 12 hours of reading per week per module. I do three and a half modules this term, so thats 42 hours of reading per week. That's six hours of reading per day. When will I have time to do important things, like blogging and watching That '70s Show? It's as if the university don't even see those things as important!

3. This sentence: "Though a tired fancy in itself, [this] at least serves to show up a real and (I suspect) a profound difficulty, of providing any model of an unending, supposedly satisfying, state or activity which would not rightly prove boring to anyone who remained conscious of himself and who had acquired a character, interests, tastes and impatiences in the course of life already, a finite life." (B. Williams.) Fuck off. George Orwell would be spinning in his grave. Six hours a day of this. B. Williams is a cunt.

2. Those annoying pretentious adverts. People complain about adverts like the Go Compare one, which is fair enough, it is a fucking annoying advert, but thats the whole point of it. Its deliberately annoying, it knows its being annoying, thats what its there for, to be annoying. It doesn't think its anything other than annoying. What pisses me off more than adverts like that are adverts that think they're really clever. They're generally for alcohol or perfume, and adverts for alcohol especially can be excellent. But the ones I mean are the ones with, say, a woman running down a cobbled street in Italy, and its raining, and its "stylishly" shot, and then she runs past a man in a suit who's drinking the advertised vodka, and he drops the drink and starts to run after her, and the vodka splashes onto the cobbled street in extra-ultra-super-fucking-slow-motion and the name of the vodka appears against a black background in the style of a film poster and is read out in an accent. I could definitely be in advertising. But you know the ones I mean. They're pretentious and think that being set in Europe and shot in black and white and having no words makes them clever. They can fuck right off. Don Draper would not approve.

1. I don't know, the... fucking... Tories.

So that was my runthrough of the five most annoying things since the last blog, hooray! Please comment with things that have annoyed you. Or haven't annoyed you. Anything, just comment, please. And this blog was named after a song by funk group Poets Of Rhythm, the song which I will leave you with.

Technoblogic

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

Wait, that's not true. Not Hate, the other one. Like. That's it, I like Andrew Marr. But you've probably heard about his attack on bloggers. He dresses up as the vigilante "Journo-Man" and beats bloggers up. Not really, he actually said:

"A lot of bloggers seem to be socially inadequate, pimpled, single, slightly seedy, bald, cauliflower-nosed young men sitting in their mother's basements and ranting. They are very angry people ... So-called citizen journalism is the spewings and rantings of very drunk people late at night ... It is fantastic at times but it is not going to replace journalism ... Most of the blogging is too angry and too abusive." Along with many others, I thought what better way to respond than write an angry drunken blog.

I may be socially inadequate, pimpled, single, slightly seedy, angry, abusive, drunk and ranting late at night, but I am not sitting in my mother's basement. How dare he suggest such a thing. How. Dare. He. I'm also not bald, and my nose has been called many things but never cauliflower-ey.

What Marr has failed to realise is that blogging and "citizen journalism" are two distinctly different things. Most bloggers are not writing to "replace journalism" but simply to express their views and maybe make people laugh. These angry rants can be brilliant, particularly Michael Legge's award winning blog. Crucially, the generalisation that Marr has made is deeply unprofessional and out of touch. A lot of us are these angry men that he describes, but a lot of bloggers are angry girls too. Joking aside, he's promoting an unfair stereotype, something I wouldn't expect of such a respected journalist.

Or would I? This is the man who last year asked Gordon Brown if he was "one of those" who used "prescription painkillers and pills to help them get through." Not only was this deeply low and unprofessional, the rumours upon which the question was based were themselves generated on A FUCKING BLOG. According to this article from The Guardian, John Ward blogged about the alleged painkillers after hearing about Brown's dietary requirements. He recognised the diet as one proscribed to those on a certain antidepressant. Is that better journalism then Andrew Marr? Furtherfuckingmore, the man who told Ward about the dietary requirements had consumed "a couple of drinks." So drunken ramblings aren't good enough for the internet but are a viable basis for a question to the Prime Minister on BBC television.

The internet is full of a lot of shit from drunk people, but its also home to some absolute gold. To generalise and ignore this is irresponsible, and Marr's remarks are ill-conceived and out of touch. Not all blogs are angry ranting, this one required research! And ANDREW MARR IS A FUCKING HYPOCRITE. Hope I didn't just undermine my argument. This hypocrisy is shown by the above example, but what do I know, I'm just a socially inadequate, pimpled, single, slightly seedy, angry, abusive, drunk blogger.

The title of this blog is a clever play on the song Technologic by Daft Punk. Yes it is clever, shut up. So I'll leave you with Daft Punk's Harder Better Faster Stronger, even though you already know it, cos it's still brilliant, and better than the Kanye West one.

Piano Smasher

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is the cunt downstairs playing the piano.

I live above a bar, which is ace because I have convenient access to whatever I want. As long as what I want is games of pool, darts, and beer (between 5pm and 11pm Sunday to Thursday and 5pm to midnight Friday and Saturday). And pool, darts and beer are all I ever want because I am a male. And apparently that's what males, of all species, enjoy.

I fucking told you! So anyway, it's cool. Not quite like it is in The Drew Carey Show, but still cool. We spend most of our time in there. Again, "we" being the entire gender. But one day, I walked into the bar - ouch! - I was beaten and raped. Hahaha I love that old joke. Seriously though, I walked in and there was this cunt. Playing the piano. If you are wondering why there's a piano in a bar, as I was, then how is this for an explanation...

I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! It's a bar! There is no need for a piano! Is there a worse place for a piano?!

I know, I hadn't noticed that before either. But before this starts to resemble a Cracked article too closely, I should point out that I realise that this piano is in the bar for events which may require such an instrument, like talent shows or something. It's also there for people to practice on. I know this because that's all this cunt does. He's not a bad pianist, in fact he's very good, it's just so annoying to have to listen to someone practicing their fucking hobby in my bar. The bar. I meant the bar. I go there to relax; I wonder how he'd like it if I practiced my drumming in his living room while he relaxed in front of The X Factor. He definitely watches The X Factor. I know this despite only ever seeing him from behind. Maybe he's the smiley-shoed man from the last blog! Remember that? My blog about fire alarms? The one I wrote about fire alarms? My blog? Well its down there anyway. The thing is, its not even as if smiley-shoed-piano man is performing, he is literally practicing, as in playing the same fucking thing over and over again. While actual music is played on the sound system in the bar. And its the shit he plays as well. Its all stuff thats popular and played all the time at the moment, like that fucking brain-dead repetitive noisy one that's always on now. You know the one? No not that one, although actually, he plays that one too. He plays all of them. Shut the fuck up with your constant piano renditions of already dreadful David Guetta shite, I'm trying to listen to Heaven by DJ Sammy and Yanou feat. Do and Alia.

But the most annoying thing about him, is the fact that what he's actually doing is simply attention seeking. He could practice playing the piano in any of the huge amount of rooms in this huge university. But where does he choose to practice? In a bar. Where there are definitely going to be people who will definitely hear. He's after an audience; he hopes that if he plays enough popular songs to enough people he will gather a crowd, or perhaps an attractive girl will join him and sing along. And the worst thing is, it generally works. Am I really the only one who thinks he's being a prick? This is a bar! I hate him, the attention craving pianis. That's not a typo.

And don't worry, he won't read this. Even if he was capable of prising his needy hands off that piano for long enough to reach a computer, he could then only press the keyboard keys A, B, C, D, E, F and G. And on that NOTE (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) I'll leave you. This blog is named after a song by the excellent Blue Man Group - enjoy this great video of them.

Sound The Alarm

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

Okay that's not strictly true, I like fire alarms, they save lives. I know that from The Sims. Along with valuable life lessons like, microwaves do sometimes just explode, teleportation is a viable alternative to staircases, and you should never swim in a pool that doesn't have a ladder.

But on Thursday morning, at about 8 o'clock, I'd literally just stepped out of the shower when the fire alarm went off. I grabbed some clothes and went and stood outside in the cold, dripping soapy water onto my feet. Wait, onto my feet? Of course, I'd forgotten shoes. And the ground was absolutely freezing. As you can imagine, I was not happy. I was tired and wet and cold. I looked up and saw a man looking at my feet and smiling. Who the fuck smiles at 8am?! "Do not say anything about my feet," I said. To myself. In my head. "Your feet must be cold," he said. To me. At 8am. Smiling. I replied "yep." I didn't feel it was necessary to say any more to this clearly-very-fucking-observant-shoe-wearing man. Of course my feet were cold, the last thing I wanted was for someone wearing shoes to point it out, while smiling at 8am. That smile ruined any potential sympathy this man intended. It felt like:

My flatmate then told me that all the buildings were having fire drills this week. "At least we've got ours out of the way then," I dripped.

"Actually..." said a voice. I looked up. It was the smiling man again. "This isn't a drill. There's no fire, but you're still going to have to do a separate drill," smiled the man.

Just when I thought I couldn't hate the smiling shoed cunt more.

Later that day I was waiting to go into a lecture, thinking "at least there'll be no more fire alarms today. Nope, no chance of any more today! I'm so glad there won't be any more fire alarms today." Then I saw two men in fluorescent jackets walk over to the fire alarm. "Do not press that fire alarm," I thought. They pressed the fire alarm. Even though I'd specifically thought them not to. To make matters worse, one of these men was the smiley-shoe man. I only saw his back so I can't prove that, and he was a different height and shape and had different coloured hair, but it had to be. I hate him. We had to leave the building, and the men were saying things like, "hurry up! Come on now! Fire alarm!" Of course there's a fucking fire alarm, I just watched you set it off!

As I slept that night I dreamt "at least that's all the fire alarms there can be! There won't be any more, no way. Not in a million years will there be another fire alarm." Guess what woke me up? That's right, a bear. Not really, it was a fire alarm you idiots! It was our drill, which I'd forgotten about, and it was 6am. Why did we need to do a drill?! We'd done exactly the same thing a day before! I reasoned, "maybe procedure has changed since then." It hadn't. It was still: Step 1 - Walk out of the building. End of procedure. To make things worse, I was hungover, so loud noises hurt. A fire alarm is pretty much as loud as they get. Apart from Joe Medforth. (Please keep reading my blog Joe.) I'd remembered my shoes this time, so I looked around smugly, hoping to see the smiley twat. Of course he wasn't there. The one time I wanted to see him and he wasn't there. He was probably out telling homeless people that they looked thin.

Then we had a "safety talk", which consisted of a man shouting that if the alarm sounds then we should remain calm and gather our possessions before exiting the building, which seems completely counter-intuitive, as well as being the complete opposite of what I was always taught. I then went back to bed, singing a song I'd made, the lyrics to which went: "No more fire alarms, la la la, there won't be more alarms, la la la la la la la la." (Soon available on iTunes.) As I drifted off I could still hear the faint sound of fire alarms, as if the noise had been engrained in my subconscious. But no, actually what I was hearing was real fire alarms, as nearby buildings had their drills. So that kept me awake until my alarm clock went off, at which point I was so confused that I remained calm and gathered my possessions before exiting the building.

I've decided now that burning to death is favourable to any more fucking fire alarm procedure. In fact I'm about to set off a firework indoors, as I learnt from The Sims. I've also deleted my door. So I'll leave you with the Thievery Corporation song that this blog is named after.

I Ain't Hating, I Just Heard Better

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is the word "Hater".

As anyone who has ever been on the internet knows, and that's all of you because that's where I've decided to write this, it is full of people being negative and rude and aggressive to each other. This is due to a combination of anonymity and boredom. I know because I've been one of these people. However, these are not the people I'm here to defend. Call them what you like. I probably wouldn't choose the word "Hater".

The thing that makes me angry enough to write a blog is when people are labelled "Haters" for disliking something. You may remember that I wrote a blog about Linkin Park's new album. Remember that? It was a few days ago? I was angry about it? Really, no recollection? Well it's just down there anyway. Thing is, Mike Shinoda responded to it in his own blog! Unfortunately he wrote his about a week before I wrote mine. Silly Mike Shinoda. But he says in his blog: So let’s talk about “haters.” ... As I write this, one of the most popular iTunes (US) reviews of A Thousand Suns is by Janxrod, who gives the album one star and asks “What happened to the real Linkin Park?”

Now, Mike Shinoda is not calling this reviewer a Hater. His use of speech marks around the word makes that clear, plus he goes on to say: many of the “one-star reviewers” are not brainless cynics who talk shit because they’re bored and he actually tries to answer the question. I love Mike Shinoda! But all the comments on the blog say things like: Don't listen to the haters and I also think that this “hater”, is very disrespectful. Yeah, how disrespectful to criticise the album IN A FUCKING REVIEW! It's a review! Reviews are designed exactly for people to express their opinion about something! It's their sole purpose! You can't invite someone to share their views and then get annoyed when they do!

"What do you think of my shirt? Be honest."

"Erm..."

"Seriously, completely honest."

"Well..."

"Go on, I can take it."

"Okay... It's a bit bright."

"...I'm glad your son died."

The point is that art, in any form, affects different people in different ways and I like to discuss it. If someone says that they don't like something I like then I ask them why. I don't dismiss their opinion. It is generally accepted that everyone is entitled to their views, but a lot of people seem to forget this when they come across criticism of something they like. If I were to comment on a youtube video saying I didn't like Linkin Park's new album (sorry am I going on about it?), someone would probably say something like "shut up, you're just a hater." Well maybe I am a "hater" in so far as I hate it, but the implication is that my opinion is therefore invalid. Therefore my opinion would only count if I was praising the album, like this cunt on Mike Shinoda's blog: Its beautiful, unique, amazing, and just pure GENIUS.

So all opinions, if expressed eloquently enough, should count. They should be discussed rather than dismissed. If you disagree, don't declare that it "doesn't count", but explain why you disagree. To quote Akil in Gotta Understand by Jurassic 5: I ain't hating, I just heard better. I'll leave you with that song, because it's ace. And if you disagree you're just a hater.

Waiting For The End

There are only three things in the world that I hate, and one of them is Linkin Park's latest album.

After the disaster that was their previous album, Minutes To Midnight, I dramatically lowered my expectations for the follow up and prepared for the worst. And I was still fucking disappointed.

You may be wondering why I even bought the new one. If you're wondering something else then stop it and focus on this please. Rude. I bought it because I'm a completist; I have all their other albums, I needed the latest one. Also, I was in a brilliant, independent, old-fashioned record shop, the sole purpose of which is to take my student loan away from me, by insisting on being just round the corner. I hate that beautiful place.

The tingle of pride I felt from this Fuck You to HMV was cut short, when I listened to A Thousand Suns and realised that a better use of my money would have been to leave it all in a ditch, or pay for the postage to send Linkin Park some angry drawings.

Am I exaggerating? Maybe, but not nearly as much as you'd think. When they started, Linkin Park were the angry, angsty soundtrack to the adolescence of a generation. Well, not for me; in 2000, when their debut album Hybrid Theory was released, my attitude was probably "If I can't catch it in a Pokéball, I don't care." Think more Koffing than Crawling. Oh fuck off, you will not find a better Linkin Park/Pokémon line. Incidentally, the only Linkin Park joke I could find is this: Rumours say Honest Abe went to a rap-rock concert. So people are now wondering "Where did Linkin Park?" I know, not bad!

You know what is bad though? A Thousand Suns by Linkin Park. And if you think I'm being whiney, you should hear the album. As I was saying before that weird Pokémon bit, they used to be one of the most exciting bands I had ever heard. I loved their seamless fusion of rap and metal and hip-hop, and their raw energy and anger. Reanimation, a remixed version of Hybrid Theory, remains one of my favourite albums of all time, and not just because of the amazing artwork:

But now, the band produce soft, watered-down, post-emo songs that sound like they are aimed at teenage girls. In his one-star review of the album in the New York Daily News, Jim Farber describes one track as something that "New Order might have considered, then rejected as too flaccid, in the '80s." He also makes a comparison to Justin Bieber. Mike Diver, in this BBC review, brilliantly observes that "A Thousand Suns is, at its zenith... Celine Dion Goes Mall Rock." It's true; some of these songs are so wet that it's as if they're dripping all over Jay-Z, with whom Linkin Park produced Collision Course, a mash-up of rock and hip-hop even greater than Aerosmith/Run-DMC's Walk This Way. Yeah I said it. The point is, Jay-Z would be spinning in his grave. I know he's not dead. Linkin Park's pushing of musical boundaries has been replaced by sheer dullness. While the Chester Bennington of Hybrid Theory screamed "Shut up when I'm talking to you!" in One Step Closer, the new version moans "When life leaves us blind, love keeps us kind" in a painfully high pitch in The Messenger, a lyric which narrowly misses out on the Most Forced Rhyme Award. That goes to "I'm not a monkey, I will not dance even if the beat's funky" from When They Come For Me. You're Mike Shinoda for fuck's sake! You're Fort Minor!

So is it even worse than Minutes To Midnight? Yes. At least Minutes To Midnight was cohesive. The songs, while shit, did fit together. This is far more than can be said for A Thousand Rapes or whatever the fuck its called. Not only do the songs sound nothing like Linkin Park used to, they also sound nothing like each other. The band have tried to cover this up in two ways: 1. Describing the album as things like "surreal" or "experimental" to avoid having to make the album flow at all, and 2. Putting in interludes. There are five of these. All around a minute long. Mostly just noise. It's as annoying as it is pretentious. You are not Pink Floyd. You're not even Muse. Oh and by the way, there's a track called Jornada Del Muerto. CUNTS. Also, ironically, one called Waiting For The End.

Overall, 9/10. Not really. But I would like to reiterate that I still think Linkin Park's old stuff is some of the best music ever, and so I will leave you with this, one of my favourite Linkin Park songs, Wth>You (Chairman Hahn ft. Aceyalone):