I got into a bit of trouble this evening. I wrote an article for a school newsletter complaining about middle class females acting in a sexist manner towards men. I failed to mention that I am staunchly opposed to sexism of all forms, and that I wasn't trying to pass off all feminists as screeching harridans in dungarees. I wasn't, just so you know.
The article in question was written for a school newsletter, as I said. I had no idea it was going to go beyond the classroom. Instead it was found by feminist group YouFem. They promptly wrote a scorching deconstruction of my piece,bemoaning my opinions, my lack of knowledge, and most importantly, my use of English. My sardonic humour had touched a nerve, it seems. Or perhaps more accurately a nerve party. Or a nerve riot, considering the response. My article was not meant to change world views on feminism. I very much wish that the subjugation of women across the world could stop. I'd go in there myself, if I could afford the transport costs and money needed for a full suit of plate armour. It was what all my blog posts and articles are: hyperbolic, sarcastic, hopefully amusing rants on things that have got on my wick recently.
If I was my internet persona, I would have replied in a witty fashion, perhaps made some jokes about the fact many of my grammatical errors were in fact mistakes made during copying. I certainly did not use that many exclamation marks. However, I am not my internet persona. In life, when I am confronted with trouble or any confrontation at all, I panic. I grovel, I plead, I make excuses and I hide in a corner. I did all these things. Fortunnately, I was able to find my internet persona and write an article in tandem with Mr Scaredypants Mchidey.
Think what you want about me and the article, and be sure to check out the Youfem blog and twitter feed. (Type in "YouFem to the search engine of your choice(google)).
Thanks.
Wednesday 9 November 2011
Tuesday 21 June 2011
Death is not the cleanser
A few weeks ago, I was making a (perhaps slightly in poor taste) joke about Osama Bin Laden, and later one about Jade Goody. I was told angrily both times, by the same person, not to "disrespect the dead". Now excuse if I'm being inconsiderate here, but if a person who had no qualms (allegedly) about ordering thousands of people to be killed and a person who made a career out of being ignorant and racist die, does this suddenly elevate them to the point of some kind of saint? Last time I checked, being racist twice doesn't count as your two miracles. What I'm really trying to say is that if a person does things to attract ridicule in life, dying does not cleanse them of that and make them better than me, because I'm not dead. It all goes a bit Final Fantasy X: "The world is bette governed in death" on you, and you begin to feel like maybe you should be dead too, to join in on the party.
More on this later.
Tuesday 7 June 2011
To Mii, to U. (Dear god I'm sorry)
From what I've seen of the new Nintendo console, the WiiU, I have to say it's both a step forward and a shot in the foot. I'll explain why I think this through the medium of a numbered bullet point list:
Bear in mind the aforementioned shots in the foot are more to do with the E3 announcement than the console. As a nintendo fanboy, I'd rather gouge out my own eyes that criticise anything they make.
Good
1. The controller is an excellent idea, the information streaming thing is cool, and it's good to see the return of a "true" console controller to shut the haters up.
2. The graphical power of the console looks to be fine, though slightly below that of what the Xbox 360 can do when pressed. Then again, it's still early days, and I have no doubt that can be improved. Tech demo looked great already, mind you.
3. Proper online play you say? Wonderful, thanks.
4. The third party support is some of the best Nintendo has enjoyed in years. Titles such as Assasin's Creed, Ghost Recon Online and Batman: Arkham City could help to attract a more hardcore fanbase, but not to the point where Nintendo simply becomes another faceless creator of realism machines for blowing up imaginary communists.
5. Full backward compatibility with all Wii software and hardware, not to mention 1080P HD. NOMNOMNOMNOMNOM.
Problems with the show.
1. It got a little confusing a bit of the way through, or at least I thought it did. Maybe I'm just dim.
2. Not actually showing the console was a mistake. It lead many people to think the WiiU was just a Wii add-on, and that's not the sort of first impression you want to make.
3. I personally think holding onto the Wii name was a mistake. For a start it leads people to believe this is an add-on for the Wii,as indeed happened. But more importantly, the Wii doesn't have a good name with the regular gamer who doesn't play Nintendo games. Thanks to lazy developers, the Wii is now synonomous with lazy ports, poor controls and mini game collections. None of these are real problems, but that's the sort of view shared by a sad number of people. This won't help.
Tell me how I'm wrong and feel free to abuse me. I find it delicious.
Bear in mind the aforementioned shots in the foot are more to do with the E3 announcement than the console. As a nintendo fanboy, I'd rather gouge out my own eyes that criticise anything they make.
Good
1. The controller is an excellent idea, the information streaming thing is cool, and it's good to see the return of a "true" console controller to shut the haters up.
2. The graphical power of the console looks to be fine, though slightly below that of what the Xbox 360 can do when pressed. Then again, it's still early days, and I have no doubt that can be improved. Tech demo looked great already, mind you.
3. Proper online play you say? Wonderful, thanks.
4. The third party support is some of the best Nintendo has enjoyed in years. Titles such as Assasin's Creed, Ghost Recon Online and Batman: Arkham City could help to attract a more hardcore fanbase, but not to the point where Nintendo simply becomes another faceless creator of realism machines for blowing up imaginary communists.
5. Full backward compatibility with all Wii software and hardware, not to mention 1080P HD. NOMNOMNOMNOMNOM.
Problems with the show.
1. It got a little confusing a bit of the way through, or at least I thought it did. Maybe I'm just dim.
2. Not actually showing the console was a mistake. It lead many people to think the WiiU was just a Wii add-on, and that's not the sort of first impression you want to make.
3. I personally think holding onto the Wii name was a mistake. For a start it leads people to believe this is an add-on for the Wii,as indeed happened. But more importantly, the Wii doesn't have a good name with the regular gamer who doesn't play Nintendo games. Thanks to lazy developers, the Wii is now synonomous with lazy ports, poor controls and mini game collections. None of these are real problems, but that's the sort of view shared by a sad number of people. This won't help.
Tell me how I'm wrong and feel free to abuse me. I find it delicious.
Thursday 2 June 2011
Pop Rockalypse
This is something I wrote a long time ago, but I thought I'd share it with you all, if only so you can all enjoy a hearty chuckle at my amateurishness.
Many are familiar with Blink 182 and their wonderfully catchy brand of sing-along, humorous pop/punk/rock, also practised by bands like The Offspring and Green Day to varying degrees of success. A bit of harmless fun, you may think. WRONG. It’s killing rock music stone dead. Ten years ago all you could see on Keerang and MTV were track suited, dreadlocked buffoons rapping brainlessly about their parents being a minute late to their birthday party over noisy, atonal sludge. Now you can’t spend more than five minutes on any rock video or radio station without hearing the latest single from “I love my college girlfriend” or “My Glorious Coming Out Party”. It’s enough to make you want to prostrate yourself in front of what’s left of Limp Bizkit, begging them to release another album.
More harmless fun, you may think, but no, because every single song from these groups of overly chirpy oxygen thieves is a piece of pure evil, specially formulated to lodge itself in your brain so firmly the only way out is a war hammer to the cerebral cortex. It’s quite simple to make one yourself, so here’s a simple recipe:
1. Take either a Green Day or Blink 182 songbook, and change the order of the sections, just to avoid suspicion.
2. Make up some serviceable yet empty lyrics about being stuck in a rut, and then a catchy chorus imploring the listener to “show me what you really want” or “Come back to me”. Or quite simply repeat an interesting word like “swing” or “Socioeconomics”
3. Make a video of your band playing the song (taking note to hide the songbook you’re playing from) that features at least one member of Fall Out Boy or New Found Glory. Tadah! Enjoy your two albums of success!
Alternatively, you could take a Backstreet Boys song, and overdub some heavy guitars to fool your listeners into believing you can write your own songs. Must dash, I’ve got to go lock myself away with a Mudvayne album, which now sounds like mana from heaven.
Take what you will from that.
Many are familiar with Blink 182 and their wonderfully catchy brand of sing-along, humorous pop/punk/rock, also practised by bands like The Offspring and Green Day to varying degrees of success. A bit of harmless fun, you may think. WRONG. It’s killing rock music stone dead. Ten years ago all you could see on Keerang and MTV were track suited, dreadlocked buffoons rapping brainlessly about their parents being a minute late to their birthday party over noisy, atonal sludge. Now you can’t spend more than five minutes on any rock video or radio station without hearing the latest single from “I love my college girlfriend” or “My Glorious Coming Out Party”. It’s enough to make you want to prostrate yourself in front of what’s left of Limp Bizkit, begging them to release another album.
More harmless fun, you may think, but no, because every single song from these groups of overly chirpy oxygen thieves is a piece of pure evil, specially formulated to lodge itself in your brain so firmly the only way out is a war hammer to the cerebral cortex. It’s quite simple to make one yourself, so here’s a simple recipe:
1. Take either a Green Day or Blink 182 songbook, and change the order of the sections, just to avoid suspicion.
2. Make up some serviceable yet empty lyrics about being stuck in a rut, and then a catchy chorus imploring the listener to “show me what you really want” or “Come back to me”. Or quite simply repeat an interesting word like “swing” or “Socioeconomics”
3. Make a video of your band playing the song (taking note to hide the songbook you’re playing from) that features at least one member of Fall Out Boy or New Found Glory. Tadah! Enjoy your two albums of success!
Alternatively, you could take a Backstreet Boys song, and overdub some heavy guitars to fool your listeners into believing you can write your own songs. Must dash, I’ve got to go lock myself away with a Mudvayne album, which now sounds like mana from heaven.
Take what you will from that.
Tuesday 17 May 2011
Black Books and the joy of misanthropy
Dylan Moran is a wonderful man. He’s probably actually very nice in real life, but I’m more interested in his personas as Bernard Black in Black Books and his stand-up performances. In both he portrays a mildly alcoholic, bitter Irishman utterly unconcerned with other people’s issues and harbouring a deep hatred for nigh-on everything in the world. And sadly, I find myself drawn to this view of the world. Everybody has days when they want to take a potato peeler to the skin of all their enemies, friends and gardeners, simply because they NO LONGER CARE about everybody else’s issues. This seems great to me; I can listen to some people’s issues, but when people are complaining about ferrets invading their mind and turning it into a miniature replica of Midgar, that’s me done, I’m finished, the door is right there, stand there while I hit you with it.
However, this viewpoint also stretches to the way you feel about your personal possessions. A memorable scene in Black Books is the occasion when Bernard, who has spent every episode in the same black suit jacket, black shirt and black trousers, has his clothes washed by a well-meaning visitor. Coming into the room, looking slightly disgusted, these clothes are found to be a bright white. “Who shaved me? Who washed my clothes!?” Cries Moran, with the tone of somebody who had been recently violated, and left in a ditch. It’s not so much the fact that his filthy suit has been washed, it’s the fact that Somebody Else Has Touched His Things. I share this. They are my things; I don’t want you putting your filthy well-meaning balanced individual hands on my things. I don’t even want you inside my personal space, because IT’S MINE, and I’m the only person worth talking to in here.
Also, I like the idea of spending most of my life in a bookshop, drinking copious amounts, though I can skip the chain-smoking.
P.S: Like Dylan Moran, I’m not really like this in real life. I like to imagine I would be, but if that was so I’d have nobody to talk to, or indeed read this.
However, this viewpoint also stretches to the way you feel about your personal possessions. A memorable scene in Black Books is the occasion when Bernard, who has spent every episode in the same black suit jacket, black shirt and black trousers, has his clothes washed by a well-meaning visitor. Coming into the room, looking slightly disgusted, these clothes are found to be a bright white. “Who shaved me? Who washed my clothes!?” Cries Moran, with the tone of somebody who had been recently violated, and left in a ditch. It’s not so much the fact that his filthy suit has been washed, it’s the fact that Somebody Else Has Touched His Things. I share this. They are my things; I don’t want you putting your filthy well-meaning balanced individual hands on my things. I don’t even want you inside my personal space, because IT’S MINE, and I’m the only person worth talking to in here.
Also, I like the idea of spending most of my life in a bookshop, drinking copious amounts, though I can skip the chain-smoking.
P.S: Like Dylan Moran, I’m not really like this in real life. I like to imagine I would be, but if that was so I’d have nobody to talk to, or indeed read this.
Saturday 7 May 2011
Horses.
Have you ever seen a horse? Big, stupid, annoying buggers they are. Stupid enough to let people ride them. They leave droppings the size of Angus Young on the ground and like kicking you.
But let's be honest, horses aren't the real problem here. It's the people who ride them. They pretend they love their horses, and call them Sparkles or names like that. they feed them apples and visit them every week to trot around a courtyard then go and live an actual life. Sometimes though, they go out onto the streets and onto public footpaths. Which makes them think they have a right to DIRECT THE BLOODY TRAFFIC. You are a twit on a horse. I am a person in a BIG METAL CAR THAT WOULD KILL YOU. GET OUT OF THE WAY. Maybe we used horses in the 19th century for work and transport, but we have better things now. Thanks awfully. And if you like horses that much, I've heard they're very tasty.
But let's be honest, horses aren't the real problem here. It's the people who ride them. They pretend they love their horses, and call them Sparkles or names like that. they feed them apples and visit them every week to trot around a courtyard then go and live an actual life. Sometimes though, they go out onto the streets and onto public footpaths. Which makes them think they have a right to DIRECT THE BLOODY TRAFFIC. You are a twit on a horse. I am a person in a BIG METAL CAR THAT WOULD KILL YOU. GET OUT OF THE WAY. Maybe we used horses in the 19th century for work and transport, but we have better things now. Thanks awfully. And if you like horses that much, I've heard they're very tasty.
Sunday 1 May 2011
My Plan for the End of Doctor Who
Let's theory.
Seeing as the Doctor is allegedly the reincarnation of The Other, according to Lungbarrow, it is possible that the Morbius Doctors were another life led by The Other, before he was again reincarnated as the Doctor. In my idea for the end of Doctor Who, if it comes, the Doctor reaches his 13th regeneration, and is mortally wounded. Rather than die, he regenerates one final time into the form of The Other, and the final Morbius Doctor. He realises that he has again come full circle in this life, and realises what he must do. As The Other and the final Morbius Doctor did, the Doctor approaches a Gallifreyan genetic Loom, hidden away in a room of the TARDIS that he has hidden from all else. He prepares to throw himself upon it, to start a new life as another Time Lord, perhaps with the same memories, perhaps an entirely blank slate. Before he can do this alone, the way he did it before, (shown in flashbacks to the other two, played by the same actor, ending their existence on Gallifrey itself) he is met with the spirits of five previous companions as the Doctor. These are the genetic data of the companions, and they join the Doctor to be reborn as Time Lords, so he will not be alone as he was before. The series ends with the group approaching the large structure, as the cloister bell rings.
Seeing as the Doctor is allegedly the reincarnation of The Other, according to Lungbarrow, it is possible that the Morbius Doctors were another life led by The Other, before he was again reincarnated as the Doctor. In my idea for the end of Doctor Who, if it comes, the Doctor reaches his 13th regeneration, and is mortally wounded. Rather than die, he regenerates one final time into the form of The Other, and the final Morbius Doctor. He realises that he has again come full circle in this life, and realises what he must do. As The Other and the final Morbius Doctor did, the Doctor approaches a Gallifreyan genetic Loom, hidden away in a room of the TARDIS that he has hidden from all else. He prepares to throw himself upon it, to start a new life as another Time Lord, perhaps with the same memories, perhaps an entirely blank slate. Before he can do this alone, the way he did it before, (shown in flashbacks to the other two, played by the same actor, ending their existence on Gallifrey itself) he is met with the spirits of five previous companions as the Doctor. These are the genetic data of the companions, and they join the Doctor to be reborn as Time Lords, so he will not be alone as he was before. The series ends with the group approaching the large structure, as the cloister bell rings.
Friday 29 April 2011
A Review
Another well known blogging site blocked me for this review, so let's see how it this goes.
The Feeling have released two albums at this point, and are working on a third, though this appears to be taking longer than The Cure for Insomnia (obscure experimental film reference there. Never mind). Regardless, I’ve felt an urge to review something professionally for a while now, and ignoring my late night blabbering about Angel previously, this is my first proper attempt, at least to the general public.
Before I start, I have a confession to make. On occasion, I have put this album on and imagined a teen movie style storyline based around lyrics in the various songs. This was a bizarre romantic thing that I still wonder about to this day. I will however, NOT be sharing these thoughts with the public, as they weren’t really allowed in my head in the first place. Anyway, professionalism.
Track by Track:
I Want You Now: This is a typical album opener; anthemic, uplifting and as with many of the Feeling’s songs, very catchy. It’s a fairly standard pop rock type arrangement, but the delivery of Dan Gillespie Sells takes what could be a far poorer song and takes it somewhere else. He takes a vague storyteller approach for the verses, describing a relationship stagnated by everyday life from the viewpoint of one of the desperate lovers, with the chorus an outpouring of frustrated longing.
Never be Lonely: A single, and rightly so. What starts as an interestingly rhythmic, gentle number segues into some very 80s sounding piano and staccato vocals, which highlights Sells’ ability to make a few notes memorable. The high point, however, is the wonderful end section. Starting from a quiet acapella and building to a glorious sweeping ending with multilayered vocals, it’s an early high point.
Fill My Little World: This seems to have been written for a summer movie. The feeling of summer is throughout this song, from the cheery electric piano led introduction, to the lyrics, describing desires to “get away” to Spain, and the impassioned plea to “fill my little world right up”. It all feels like a teenage boy entreating a girl to like him, again not unlike a teen summer movie.
Kettle’s On: The first “downbeat” song on the album, “Kettle’s On” Is the first to make the most of the piano to provide a mournful tone, which suits the lyrics just fine. Sells appears to be opening himself up to someone, saying how “pouring out my heart isn’t usually my style”, but still speaking of how he is nothing without the person he is speaking to. Some of the piano work is chill-inducing, especially the fills in between verses, before the song becomes louder towards the end, to allow another glorious chorus room to shine.
Sewn: In this reviewers opinion, the finest song on the album. The acoustic guitar introduction builds into another soaring number, with some quality “Na na na”s from Sells and the band. Every part of this song is touching, but in an innocent way, simply stating the faults and qualities of the singer and the subject. While it is true that the lyrics mainly focus on love, and lost love, they are always perfectly suited to the music. There are more multilayered vocals at the end of this track, but they simply fade out to nothing in a beautiful and memorable way.
Could Have Been Anyone: Sadly, a rather bland track follows Sewn. A straight ahead pop rocker, with little to distinguish itself, save for some more original delivery from Sells.
Strange: This is certainly an underrated track. While the lyrics aren’t particularly meaningful, the quality of the vocals and instrumentation takes the song to a higher level, with the harmony vocals being at a particular high.
I Love it When You Call: The lead single, and indebted to late 70s/80s glam rock, from its electronic intro, to its opening guitar riff. The vocals again tell of a relationship ruined by everyday life, but in the sense of two friends too busy to see each other, rather than lovers. The guitar work on this track is excellent, with the retro twin harmony solo reminiscent of some Def Leppard tracks, or a poppier Bon Jovi.
Rose: Another more sombre track, driven by a lovely piano hook, and boosted by light guitars, though the piano is pushed more into the background as the song progresses. Unusually, this song is an ode to the wine of the songs name, explaining how it is a perfect blend of “the white to your left, and the red to your right”, which is incidentally one of the finest couplets on the album. Sadly, this song has now become a staple of god-awful shop radio covers, and one to be howled out by drunken vagabonds at open mike nights. Which is sad, because it’s a lovely song.
Same Old Stuff: Another forgettable (and overlong, coming in at almost 7 minutes) track, with a nice chorus, and some more fadeout harmonies, this time a gentle repeat of “sixty percent water”, which while incorrect, suits the theme of the song, that regardless of human differences, we are still ultimately “made of the same old stuff”.
Helicopter: While “Sewn” was the best song musically, “Helicopter” is the most fun. Starting out as a jaunty number, with whimsical lyrics similar in a way to Pink Floyds “Bike”, around the two minute mark, the song suddenly introduces massive hard-rocking guitars into the mix, and provides the kind of head banging action that would normally be sought from the likes of Queens of the Stone Age or any 90s hard rock band.
Blue Piccadilly: The closer and the source of the album’s title lyric. Another more mournful number, telling of how an acquaintance or previous lover of the singer gave up much of what she was in order to live a happier, more comfortable life. The singer is annoyed by this, but realises she is happy, and wishes her the best, before leaving her life. This is a truly epic song, with a pub-like sing-along towards the end and some excellent guitar and piano work. If you listen past the crowd noise at the end of the song, you can hear the hidden track “Miss You”, which is a wonderful little song, consisting only of piano and some more uplifting harmony vocals; and a perfect end to the album.
Well there you go, a “Serious” album review. Whatever you thought of it, I hope you at least found it useful for your album purchasing future. Thanks!
The Feeling have released two albums at this point, and are working on a third, though this appears to be taking longer than The Cure for Insomnia (obscure experimental film reference there. Never mind). Regardless, I’ve felt an urge to review something professionally for a while now, and ignoring my late night blabbering about Angel previously, this is my first proper attempt, at least to the general public.
Before I start, I have a confession to make. On occasion, I have put this album on and imagined a teen movie style storyline based around lyrics in the various songs. This was a bizarre romantic thing that I still wonder about to this day. I will however, NOT be sharing these thoughts with the public, as they weren’t really allowed in my head in the first place. Anyway, professionalism.
Track by Track:
I Want You Now: This is a typical album opener; anthemic, uplifting and as with many of the Feeling’s songs, very catchy. It’s a fairly standard pop rock type arrangement, but the delivery of Dan Gillespie Sells takes what could be a far poorer song and takes it somewhere else. He takes a vague storyteller approach for the verses, describing a relationship stagnated by everyday life from the viewpoint of one of the desperate lovers, with the chorus an outpouring of frustrated longing.
Never be Lonely: A single, and rightly so. What starts as an interestingly rhythmic, gentle number segues into some very 80s sounding piano and staccato vocals, which highlights Sells’ ability to make a few notes memorable. The high point, however, is the wonderful end section. Starting from a quiet acapella and building to a glorious sweeping ending with multilayered vocals, it’s an early high point.
Fill My Little World: This seems to have been written for a summer movie. The feeling of summer is throughout this song, from the cheery electric piano led introduction, to the lyrics, describing desires to “get away” to Spain, and the impassioned plea to “fill my little world right up”. It all feels like a teenage boy entreating a girl to like him, again not unlike a teen summer movie.
Kettle’s On: The first “downbeat” song on the album, “Kettle’s On” Is the first to make the most of the piano to provide a mournful tone, which suits the lyrics just fine. Sells appears to be opening himself up to someone, saying how “pouring out my heart isn’t usually my style”, but still speaking of how he is nothing without the person he is speaking to. Some of the piano work is chill-inducing, especially the fills in between verses, before the song becomes louder towards the end, to allow another glorious chorus room to shine.
Sewn: In this reviewers opinion, the finest song on the album. The acoustic guitar introduction builds into another soaring number, with some quality “Na na na”s from Sells and the band. Every part of this song is touching, but in an innocent way, simply stating the faults and qualities of the singer and the subject. While it is true that the lyrics mainly focus on love, and lost love, they are always perfectly suited to the music. There are more multilayered vocals at the end of this track, but they simply fade out to nothing in a beautiful and memorable way.
Could Have Been Anyone: Sadly, a rather bland track follows Sewn. A straight ahead pop rocker, with little to distinguish itself, save for some more original delivery from Sells.
Strange: This is certainly an underrated track. While the lyrics aren’t particularly meaningful, the quality of the vocals and instrumentation takes the song to a higher level, with the harmony vocals being at a particular high.
I Love it When You Call: The lead single, and indebted to late 70s/80s glam rock, from its electronic intro, to its opening guitar riff. The vocals again tell of a relationship ruined by everyday life, but in the sense of two friends too busy to see each other, rather than lovers. The guitar work on this track is excellent, with the retro twin harmony solo reminiscent of some Def Leppard tracks, or a poppier Bon Jovi.
Rose: Another more sombre track, driven by a lovely piano hook, and boosted by light guitars, though the piano is pushed more into the background as the song progresses. Unusually, this song is an ode to the wine of the songs name, explaining how it is a perfect blend of “the white to your left, and the red to your right”, which is incidentally one of the finest couplets on the album. Sadly, this song has now become a staple of god-awful shop radio covers, and one to be howled out by drunken vagabonds at open mike nights. Which is sad, because it’s a lovely song.
Same Old Stuff: Another forgettable (and overlong, coming in at almost 7 minutes) track, with a nice chorus, and some more fadeout harmonies, this time a gentle repeat of “sixty percent water”, which while incorrect, suits the theme of the song, that regardless of human differences, we are still ultimately “made of the same old stuff”.
Helicopter: While “Sewn” was the best song musically, “Helicopter” is the most fun. Starting out as a jaunty number, with whimsical lyrics similar in a way to Pink Floyds “Bike”, around the two minute mark, the song suddenly introduces massive hard-rocking guitars into the mix, and provides the kind of head banging action that would normally be sought from the likes of Queens of the Stone Age or any 90s hard rock band.
Blue Piccadilly: The closer and the source of the album’s title lyric. Another more mournful number, telling of how an acquaintance or previous lover of the singer gave up much of what she was in order to live a happier, more comfortable life. The singer is annoyed by this, but realises she is happy, and wishes her the best, before leaving her life. This is a truly epic song, with a pub-like sing-along towards the end and some excellent guitar and piano work. If you listen past the crowd noise at the end of the song, you can hear the hidden track “Miss You”, which is a wonderful little song, consisting only of piano and some more uplifting harmony vocals; and a perfect end to the album.
Well there you go, a “Serious” album review. Whatever you thought of it, I hope you at least found it useful for your album purchasing future. Thanks!
Monday 25 April 2011
Life is better now.
My life has become much better as of today. I've had something on my mind for a while, and it's been slowly eating away until it was all I could think about. But I spoke to somebody who could help me, and now the problem has gone away. In some ways, perhaps the issue could have been resolved differently, and better for some parties, but this is absolutely fine and great and everything else that's good. Suddenly realising that a large part of my free time and social life has been opened up is one of the finest sensations I've felt in my short life.
Saturday 23 April 2011
Angel.
Thanks to the incredibly vague title offered, you may be confused as to what the contents of this post are. I'll save you the bother: It's the Buffy spin off Angel, in which the titular vampire "goes to L.A" in typical spin off style, though in this case it's not to take large amounts of cocaine and wake up every night with a different blonde girl next to him, stare at the camera, and kookily say "uh oh!" No, he's taking his tight fitting black tops and finely chiselled cheekbones to brood elsewhere. He also takes Cordelia from Buffy along for the ride, which allows her (whisper it) Proper Character Development. The first 9 episodes also feature Doyle, an Irish half-demon played by the excellent Glenn Quinn. But sadly, due to drug related problems, he's written about, only to be replaced by Wesley, another Buffy castoff, who again takes advantage of the new format to become a real person, not a shallow cliche. As for the actual format, Angel and pals now run "Angel Investigations", a supernatural detective agency, and solve all manner of ghostly mysteries and cooky adventures (Yes, that second one was a lie). The interesting thing about Angel is that it feels like a show in it's fifth season in the second episode, due to the fact that most of the characters come from another show. But this is why it's better than Buffy. Buffy had to put up with clunky early plotlines and some truly dreadful writing early on. Angel comes straight out of the box as a Proper Show, and barely lets up from there. Despite suffering from Joss Whedon's patented badpenultimateseasonitis, thanks to Connor, who is somehow more annoying that Dawn from Buffy, it's still an excellent show. I'm aware this meant very little, but I'm tired, and what do you expect from me, genuine effort? Professional Writing? This is the best you're getting, sunshine. And Moonshine, but that's another story.
Thursday 17 March 2011
What the 3DS should do.
The 3DS has a cool idea. People will probably buy it so they can tell people they have a 3DS, and take funny 3D pictures of their friends. But it's in danger of losing the serious gamer market. Except for Street Fighter, all the launch titles are somewhat casual and "fun", and we have to wait for a while longer before we get Resi Evil Mecenaries and Ocarina of Time 3D. But hear me out. What would really get people to buy this console as a gaming console would be to have a little chat with Nintendo's old friends Square Enix.
Seeing as Square seem to have removed the Playstation exclusive status from their main series FF titles (FFVIII, however poor, was on the Xbox as well as PS3), they could be willing to produce 3D remakes of Final Fantasies VII, VIII, IX and X. Imagine fighting Safer Sepiroth in glorious 3D, or Ultimecia achieving Time Compression around you. Even the brilliant handheld fighter Dissidia could make it on, followed by 0012 as well.
The mere idea of these games makes me want to buy a 3DS, but I think I'll be waiting until I don't have to sell the blood of my firstborn to do so.
Seeing as Square seem to have removed the Playstation exclusive status from their main series FF titles (FFVIII, however poor, was on the Xbox as well as PS3), they could be willing to produce 3D remakes of Final Fantasies VII, VIII, IX and X. Imagine fighting Safer Sepiroth in glorious 3D, or Ultimecia achieving Time Compression around you. Even the brilliant handheld fighter Dissidia could make it on, followed by 0012 as well.
The mere idea of these games makes me want to buy a 3DS, but I think I'll be waiting until I don't have to sell the blood of my firstborn to do so.
Tuesday 1 February 2011
Benevolent Dictator Needed
The angry American shouters are right; we do indeed live in a godless nation. However, this appears to be a good thing. From the decisions I’ve seen from our always white, always Christian leaders, the big chap with the big beard in the sky seems to be a bit of a twizzler.
Apparently he condones the banks taking massive amounts of money from the taxpayer to mess around with in the giant playground that is the financial sector, until the big nasty bullies come and take it from them, promising they’ll give it back, but they never do. But it’s OK for the silly little overgrown children; the nice government people will just wag their fingers, put a little cap on their million-pound bonuses and then leave them to carry on with playtime. Only there ISN’T ANY MONEY. The government have instead decided to take money from us, and raise our taxes rather than give out lunchtime detention to the banking sector. Additionally, we all apparently spend our lives stabbing each other and then joyously urinating over the corpses, so we all need to be caught on CCTV thousands of time a day. If crime rates haven’t risen for 15 years, then why capture hours of video of everyone in the country, unless it’s because you see the plight of the plebs as a really rather amusing reality television show in which you can control the outcome. It’s all a bit like sitting at home smacking yourself in the knee with a used heroin needle while listening to Oasis; it helps no-one.
Oh, and another thing. I was recently embarrassed in public by claiming crime rates were rising. I received this mistaken idea by watching BBC Breakfast, a delightfully fuzzy version of the world in which we are spoon-fed the governments spin on world events by two lovely smiley presenters. They would have us believe that half of British youth owns a knife and drink and take drugs while underage, which of course our parents and their parents didn’t do. No, not at all. What I’m trying to say is that the public isn’t stupid, and we aren’t going to take your lies, stupidity and general crap for too much longer. Just put Messyrs Fry or Clarkson in charge, and everything will be fine.
Good day to you all.
Apparently he condones the banks taking massive amounts of money from the taxpayer to mess around with in the giant playground that is the financial sector, until the big nasty bullies come and take it from them, promising they’ll give it back, but they never do. But it’s OK for the silly little overgrown children; the nice government people will just wag their fingers, put a little cap on their million-pound bonuses and then leave them to carry on with playtime. Only there ISN’T ANY MONEY. The government have instead decided to take money from us, and raise our taxes rather than give out lunchtime detention to the banking sector. Additionally, we all apparently spend our lives stabbing each other and then joyously urinating over the corpses, so we all need to be caught on CCTV thousands of time a day. If crime rates haven’t risen for 15 years, then why capture hours of video of everyone in the country, unless it’s because you see the plight of the plebs as a really rather amusing reality television show in which you can control the outcome. It’s all a bit like sitting at home smacking yourself in the knee with a used heroin needle while listening to Oasis; it helps no-one.
Oh, and another thing. I was recently embarrassed in public by claiming crime rates were rising. I received this mistaken idea by watching BBC Breakfast, a delightfully fuzzy version of the world in which we are spoon-fed the governments spin on world events by two lovely smiley presenters. They would have us believe that half of British youth owns a knife and drink and take drugs while underage, which of course our parents and their parents didn’t do. No, not at all. What I’m trying to say is that the public isn’t stupid, and we aren’t going to take your lies, stupidity and general crap for too much longer. Just put Messyrs Fry or Clarkson in charge, and everything will be fine.
Good day to you all.
Monday 3 January 2011
Teaspoon scraping time
Hello. I doubt you’re reading this, because if you’re a “Blogging person”, you’re probably off watching the Vlogs of people who you think have an opinion that matters. Meanwhile, I’m sitting alone in my bedroom, crying tears of bitter happiness, safe in the knowledge I will never become one of those self important “people” that you all seem to love so much. I spend the time I use writing these posts to wonder at my own hypocrisy and lack of any right to say what I think. In fact, I just spelt hypocrisy wrong, and had to get my special computer friend to fix it for me. The fact I write these words and make the videos I do makes me one of those people. However, because I am not accepted by the YouTube going public, I suppose I could be considered an underground guerrilla (yes, another spelling mistake there), fighting the forces of popular intertainment (my word) with tiny, barely seen videos and blog posts. Was I to suddenly receive an upsurge in popularity thanks to a recommendation from a popular Vlogging friend; I would immediately become the person I am writing about and sort of am now. The rank sadpocrisy of everything I am doing is enough for me to consider thrusting my keyboard into my eyes. That would of course be extremely silly; a keyboard of that size would cause little or no damage. Also it’s quite a nice keyboard, once you look past the coffee stains. There we are again. I admit I drink coffee. I may as well admit I own a coffee machine, perhaps name it, perhaps receive money to advertise the company, and then perhaps become a massive corporate sarcasm merchant who has no real reason to be so cynical, because he has three Cuban children at home waiting to massage his eyebrows. Teaspoon scraping time.
Sunday 2 January 2011
Hmm.
Hello Blogger!
Hi Museotron!
So, can I customise my profile?
Sure thing.
Ok, I'd like to put a picture on my profile.
Oh no, I can't do that, you see, that would be helpful.
Oh, ok. Screw you then. Text only it is then.
Hi Museotron!
So, can I customise my profile?
Sure thing.
Ok, I'd like to put a picture on my profile.
Oh no, I can't do that, you see, that would be helpful.
Oh, ok. Screw you then. Text only it is then.
Why Hello There.
Good Evening. I have decided that my series of youtube videos are not enough to showcase my musings on the nature of pointless jabber. Thus, I shall be using this blog to invade the minds and eyes of unsuspecting people ever more than I have before.
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