Woo hoo!

Fair to say overall, it's been a shit week. Not the worst, but rubbish is the general over-riding frame of mind by the end.

Monday saw a fairly inocuous trip to watch the new Indy flick hampered by bad weather and awful train delays everywhere. This ended up in me appearing to be on the only train moving anywhere at one point and having to arrive at a terminal destination a good mile walk from the cinema in order to guarantee getting there. And I did. After getting drenched and missing the planned viewing. Still, I saw it and got to be social even if the day felt a bit wasted.

Work? poo off. Nothing went right. Amd while I ended up doing everything that NEEDED to be done, I certainly didn't get everything done that I wanted to get done thanks to various programs buggering up and other factors getting in the way. Mail merge, anyone? Fuck off!

Electricity died on wednesday night. OK, this provided us with an excuse to spend the evening down the pub to watch a shit England match and play pool, as well as meet some new folk. But generally, offically rubbish.

Thursday - rubbish.

Today, well, I'm glad the months over, but I left the bar feeling rubbish. Mainly because of mates offering advice and opinions to me on things that they believe they know about (and maybe they do, from THEIR perspective), but that help not a jot because I'm not actually them, and I, as me, cannot legitemately apply their advice. Different strokes and all that.

I'm learning what works for me and it is getting me somewhere. Couple that with the British way of getting on with it and I'm making more progress than people think I am, but because of an established perception of character...Funnily enough, it's not me that brings this subject up as it's not a problem, but I end up having to get defensive and sound like I'm making excuses. Gee, thanks.

I'm more confident in certain regards than I've ever been. So don't bloody well shoot me down because you believe I'm going the wrong way about it. Have some faith.

Roll on June.

You won't see that on the tellybox! - Frank goes to the Zoo

It's fair to say that I rarely see anything in films or on TV that surprise me. It may be a great story well written, but it is unlikely it will contain anything that truly makes me go "woah, nellie". Doctor Who could, but never does. Perhaps when Steven Moffat takes over as chief bloke it may, but that's in another couple of years.

I leave the surprises and shocks to the comic books. Even after the best part of 15 years serious reading, I still come across events that may or may not be intrinsic to the plot, but leave me utterly dumbfounded. I thought I'd share them with you. Viewers of a nervous disposition...probably shouldn't be reading this blog in the first place. You've got other things to worry about, I'm sure.

The Punisher likes his guns. He likes using his guns. A lot. Driven insane by the murder of his family, Frank Castle chooses to spend his friday and saturday nights blasting holes in any serious lawbreaker he can. And if he hasn't got a gun, he'll be using something else, especially if it's one of nature's natural killing machines. Have you ever felt threatened by some oik with a Staffy outside Woolies? No need, they're both pussies. There's far more hardcore out there as Marvel's Second Punisher volume #4 showed back in 2000.

On the run from Ma Gnucci's 'orrible lot, Frank sidesteps into the local Zoo and heads straight for the fishies. Piranah are fishies, and to be fair the following isn't the first time these toothy bastards get a hefty free meal:

Let's face it, Joe Dante got there first.



Still, piranhas and a subsequent man-sized boa are small fry, it's the polar bears you've got to worry about. What's that, you say? They kill for fun, of course they're a danger! Well, yes, you'd be right, which is why you wouldn't see this coming:




And, frankly, neither did the polar bear.


Still, here are some nice mobsters saying hello.




What's that, Mr Bear, you don't take kindly to being punched?




Frank has since attempted to replace the deceased Steve Rogers as Captain America.
America! Fuck, yeah!

Hurry up, Harry, come on!

It's that time of year again. The morning when I get up at a reasonable hour (read: before 10 am), get my newspaper, have a lazy breakfast, and get whatever necessary chores/work done.

Then, sit back for the afternoon with lots of tea/ale (depending on energy levels) for the FA Cup Final and all it's pre-game entertainment. Well, I say entertainment. Its not exactly the Superbowl, and there aren't cheerleaders to ogle over. You may like Alan Hansen in that way, but I don't.

In case you're wondering, I won't be gunning for the underdog. Nothing against Cardiff or the Welsh, I like the Welsh. Not sure why, but hey ho. No it's Portsmouth for me as they've really worked at it the last few seasons and Harry Redknapp's managerial career deserves something a bit better than the Inter-bleeding-toto cup.

On the other hand, maybe Portsmouth shouldn't win. Last time they won, a World War kicked off...

Meet Fletcher, your new roommate...

You're going to jail. No really. And you don't even know it.

And all cause of that bit of porn you've got on your pc or behind the copy of the Indiana Jones trilogy.

Surely not, you say? well, yes actually. and don't call me Shirley.

Explanations: Have you heard of the Criminal Justice and Immigration Bill? No? Well, bad luck because it's now an act. And it's not surprising you're clueless because it's received naff-all media coverage, for some reason.

It's clauses 62-65 you want to look at. Or 63-66 once they've finished dicking about with it. It's all about extreme pornography, necrophilia, rape etc, which on first listen sounds justified as those things are bad, right? well have a look here...

http://www.backlash-uk.org.uk/bill80428.html

You'll be excused for scratching your head as it's all a tad confusing. You're joe bloggs who talks normal, innit. Words of more than three syllables are effort and enunciation is probably an Aztec city. If you get the jist, you're probably thinking ..."this affects me, don't it?". Well, probably, you and at least 10 million British adults.

The history: Some bloke whose name doesn't deserve to be mentioned again killed a teacher 5 years back. He was a nutcase, like many in history. Except he liked necrophilia and asphyxia sites. So obviously, those inspired him. As a result, our wonderful Labour arseh...er, government....decided to effectively outlaw those sites and the images within, in the process chucking the owner of the image in the slammer for 3 years and signing the sex offender's register. Understandable with certain sexual interests, but with this lax law, they've effectively outlawed every website or image/video where the pornography and act is a tad more creative than missionary.

Note the bit about "threatening someone's life":

Whipping. - check. obviously, could mess up your joints that.
vampirism - check. draining blood is baaaad, mmkay.
bondage - uh huh. staying in one position can't be good for the arteries, can it?
spanking - well, spank in one place for a few times and you could cause a blood clot.

I may sound daft, but the non-specifics of the law is the problem. Where is the line drawn?
Ultimately, the thing that has seemingly gone out the window is the issue of consensuality.
Even stranger, you're pretty much allowed to do what you want with the Mrs/Mr, but you can't document it. Acted scenes are disallowed because of what they represent.

The consideration clause for BBFC rated films is laughable. The kind of nutcase they're trying to protect us from could easily, and legally, buy Hostel, Devils Rejects etc. a nd just watch the more unpleasant scenes to get his kicks. If he doesn't extract those scenes to his PC, he's fine. He still gets his evil jollies and may still do something horrific. It doesn't solve the problem. It just crimilises millions overnight.

Your art books, photography hardbacks, MY BLOODY COMIC BOOKS!! They're not rated in the UK, are they? They're straight from USA. My copies of Dogwitch or Empowered could cause me a problem regardless of wether I get my kicks from them or not as they're quite suggestive. And don't get me started on my metal collection. Thank goodness I'm not a Dimmu Borgir or Cannibal Corpse fan...

I don't want to know what you do. Enjoy it, just keep it to yourself. And yes, if you want the necessary inspiration made by folk who wanted to and enjoyed it, then you should. No, I don't understand why you want to be strung by your balls and had wax smothered on your nipples. Then again, I don't understand why you want to wear that Charlton Athletic shirt. It's your life, in your bedroom. Keep actual kids, animals and dead folk away and crack on.

Don't even get me started on the "protecting women" cobblers. We all know that women have the filthier minds and inclinations and men just want a quickie at half time.

It's part of the act now, but apparently doesn't kick in until January 2009. If you feel the law's a bit crap or feel anything you take an interest in makes you a criminal because of it, visit the site, speard the word, sign the petitions etc, because it could still be yanked out.

One things for certain, this does ensure I will NEVER vote Labour...

Quote of the day...

week...month...year...whatever.

akarshshekhar of the last.fm site proclaimed...

"nothing can suck more than St Anger,not even a fuckin blackhole"


I have no idea why this made me laugh more than anything in recent memory, but there you go.


little things, people. little things.

I know nothing about security lighting...

There seems to have been a bit of a kerfuffle in the lives of various hip Geek types across, well, the world, it would seem. Channel 4 sitcom SPACED has finally confirmed what I always regarded as inevitable and landed itself a USA remake at the hands of McG. This was never a question of if, but when, following the success of Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. Of course, the kerfuffle is naturally down to the Spaced fanbase screaming blue bloody murder at the damn heresy of it all. I'd like to say I'm the same, but I can't.

To put you uncertain types in the picture, Spaced ran for 2 series on C4 in 1999 and 2001. Geeky lad and lass pose as couple to rent a flat in North London. They have barmy mates, barmy adventures that fall totally within the realm of "possibly everyday" and it all gets done whilst nodding towards Evil Dead, The Matrix, Human Traffic and numerous other cult classics. The ultimate cult classic, if you will. Very British , but hugely accessible on a Global level for it. The first American I showed it to is now a devotee of all creators involved - Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright, Jessica Hynes and Nick Frost.

Naturally, everyone's got a bit steamed at the news of the remake, but to be fair, for the wrong reasons. It's been made known that the original creative folk have not been consulted, which doesn't surprise me. It's the same with comics. No one needed Alan Moore's permission to film V for Vendetta as DC held the rights. That's contracts for you: The creators get the fan love and creative name, the studios get the hard cash. A lot of people have protested at this, and quite right on that principle, but others were doing so beforehand because...

It's going to be crap.








Really? Since when? Because it's American? Because Pegg's not writing it?

We have no idea what it will be like. It could be God-awful or it could be the greatest thing ever and trumping every sitcom ever made. But hey ho, it's obviously going to be rubbish so on that same note, I won't be writing my comic book cos I'm probably ripping off a lot of comics beforehand and I can't write for toffee.

Or, I could give it a go and see what happens and if it's crap, fair enough.

Let's face it, it's more to do with folk's possessive love of something and the fact that anything new is going to expose it to the masses or taint it's memory with something they consider less than tasty. The classic attitude of "we had it first, let's keep it that way". That's up to you, but an American remake, crap or not, successful or not, will do absolutely nothing to change my love for Spaced, and anything that will directly or indirectly point folk in the direction of Pegg at al is a good thing.

Of course, there's a full-on geek petition now trying to stop it from happening. Safe to say I won't be signing it. Who the hell am I to say, "you can't do this" or "that's an insult". I didn't make it or pour my creative juices into it so I'm in no position to start making demands, which is what I'd be doing. The creative folk have that option and weren't consulted so it's all moot. If someone wants to sign it on that principle then fair play. However, if the studios aren't going to do the honourable thing and go to the original creators, are they really going to give a monkeys what a load of uppity geeks say?


I also saw some folk moaning that it was McG's presence pissing them off. What? the same McG behins The OC and Chuck and who seems to have helped nail two wonderfully loveable nerds in Seth Cohen and Chuck Bartowski. Moan all you want, that's a reassurance in my book.

How about this option: Let it happen, watch the pilot, rave about it, get them the figures and the thumbs up for a full series. Than let them pour their funds into it and then show your tr00 feelings then. That'll leave them a bit worse the wear. Unless of course, you do absolutely love it, in which case, enjoy it.

PS - I was one of those right at the beginning of Episode one when first shown. Just saying.

Only in Dreams

Tonight, I scored quite possibly the greatest goal I will ever score.

Just outside the 12 yard box, just to the right of the nearest post, surrounded by 3 defenders, I took a chance and, with the outside of the boot, managed to curl the ball pinpoint into the far left corner.

I would say it's the goal of the month.

Alas, it was one-off shot from Mr Rooney in Pro Evo 5. Says it all, really.

In real life, I would have tripped over my own feet trying similar. Luckily, I can't do that right now as I'm sidelined with an ankle injury that was, at one stage, swollen bigger than Gibraltar.

Know your limits, people.