Arseholes of the Year.

Diane Abbott.

She doesn't know how much 'Two pieces of chicken & chips' costs - she only understands the pricing of chicken in bucket quantity.

...but she is just a normal, down-to-earth person, like us.

Cheryl Cole. 

Everyone's favourite violent racist...except for black women, of course, who she attacks.
I wish she'd attack Diane Abbott.

'The judge called it "an unpleasant piece of drunken violence" for which Tweedy had shown "no remorse whatsoever".'

So please: keep lauding people such as Cheryl Cole - keep holding them up as exemplary: someone the young should aspire to be like; and keep lamenting the fact that people do bad things. After all: the two aren't connected, are they?

Ed Miliband.

Look at that fucking face - it's like a two-inch thick rubber mask that's been left in the sun for too long.
Monstrum in fronte, monstrum in animo ('Monster in face, monster in soul') as Nietzsche said.

And if Beaker from The Muppets had been made out of plastic, they'd be twins:

David Miliband.

Speaking of twins...
It's a good job this pair of fuckwits have different names: how else would you tell them apart?

Come to think of it, I don't know which one is the leader of their shitty little 'party' - or what difference it makes.

Tila Tequila.

She's erm...sexy.
In fact, the last thing I saw that was so sexy was a pile of meat I stapled together - and further degraded by plastering with various chemicals and adornments. The best two nights of my life was when I fucked that thing.

Looking at Ms Tequila here, I can't help but look forward to the next time I staple hair extensions to a beef topside.

Everybody involved, in any way, with the TV show 'Manswers'.

I really just want to give up on life when watching this show; it's less distressing to watch videos of the holocaust.

The cast of 'Jersey Shore'.

Did the producer/s of this show aim to cast a group of people who embody the worst attributes of Americans?
Are they waging psy-ops against the West, in order that we can't justify any complaints about the atrocities the muslims perpetrate against us? - Is this show intended as Osama Bin laden's mitigation, should he ever come to trial?*

'Cause if it is used for that purpose, i'd let him off, and give him as many planes as he wants.

Nick Hogan.

In another excellent instance of 'reaping what you sow', this fucktard was the subject of a 'reality show' on MTV, which obviously means that his behaviour is condoned by this corporation/society. He is also a symbol of success - what people should aspire to, and look to emulate.
So not only did his idiotic, irresponsible, selfish (fun) driving leave a man a vegetable...but he was made a celebrity prior to this, and this crime was part of a character very well-documented.

And then him and his dad - 'Hulk' Hogan - blamed the guy he turned into a vegetable.

I just don't see what hope society has when people who behave like this are held up as successes, rather than disgraces.

Charlie Brooker.

This man sold out in spectacular fashion, this year.

Charlie Brooker has a long history of a very high standard of cultural criticism: from the little-known - and unfortunately: unavailable on DVD - TVGoHome, to his immense collaboration with the brilliant Chris Morris on Nathan Barley, and his BBC series Screenwipe.

However, the bizarre, unaccountable announcement was made this year that he had married a vapid, conformist TV presenter: a woman named Konnie Huq, whose credits - in sharp contradistinction to Mr Brooker's - include Blue Peter, GMTV, Top of the Pops, and some pile of shit on The Disney Channel.
To those of a mind to appreciate the poignancy and relevance of his insights, and the stellar work he had done, through his writing, in arguing for a raising of standards in order to improve society, were galled and shocked to learn this: it seemed like a betrayal of his beliefs; a gross act of hypocrisy.

And it was.

Essentially, the case against him can be summed up this simply:

his wife's job is to provide a pretty face on TV shows; one month after they were married, she went and worked on a TV show called The X Factor.

- and his own words can be used to condemn him.

For his condemnation of 'vapid eye candy', see this clip, at four minutes in (presenter #3):

Charlie Brooker's condemnation of his future wife

'The sort of person you could be forgiven for thinking is only on the box because they look sort of nice.'

...or you were married to because they look sort of nice.


'The least meaningful job in the universe.'

And he married that!


So as if this wasn't bad enough - which it is - observe this critique he gave a few years back of The X Factor:

Charlie Brooker's Review of The X Factor

'A home for the mentally ill.


A futuristic fascist rally.


Nuremberg for dummies.'


My wife's employer.

And so it was: a month after they married, this was where she went and worked - pandering to the vermin who torment him so:

Konnie Huq getting friendly with Cheryl 'Violent Criminal' Cole.

Konnie Huq pathetically getting berated and humiliated by Dannii Minogue.

I thought this pathetic sell-out had done one semi-decent thing this year, and quit from ever commenting on, or judging, another human being - especially after I read his Screen Burn column (which reads as though his new best pal and overlord Simon Cowell edited it) announcing that he was quitting.

But the humiliated, stinking hypocrite has continued on - writing for The Guardian, and making his TV show!
It's uncomfortable to observe, and really offensive: the man's credibility is as distant a memory as military success must have been to Hitler in April 1945 - yet he still has the balls - the bold-faced shamelessness - to peddle this insincerity:

Charlie Brooker's 'Review of the Year'

#OustBrooker



*Osama Bin Laden was murdered by Barack Hussein Obama on 2nd May 2011.

Was 'Dexter' Ever Good? Series 5 Analysis

Yet another tension-free episode of Dexter - this time: the 'season-finale' - which was so warm, self-congratulatory, and inclusive, that once it ended, I hugged the cats that were attendant...then I went and hugged my neighbours...then I hugged all those I found on the street...

So Dexter crawls out the crashed car, is immediately captured by 'Johnny' (Lee Miller), tied up, and put in the basement.
Johnny talks to him for about a minute - sans any tension, or anything else that could be accused of being interesting - then Dexter gets loose with the aid of a miraculously (and unexplained) hidden knife, and captures him. Ho ho ho...colour me impressed!
I really got into the mood of this scene, I tell ya' what: I was utterly compelled to watch, and really feared for the hero (Dexter); shit got raw!!!

Except it didn't.
It was so utterly serene, and 'plain sailing', that you would feel more if you took novocaine, and had your wisdom teeth removed - just how drama should be, right, fellow sufferers?

Then, after 'Deb' catches Dexter and Skank-face from Ten Things I Hate About You (but only not really, because they're behind a curtain) and lets them go - because, with the minimum of effort on the part of the writers/programme-makers, the sub-plot that 'Deb' had sympathy for Skank-face had previously been birthed like a premature baby, and similarly barely clung to life...where was I?
Oh yeah: so 'Deb' lets them go because she went through the same thing in the first series, when she was almost killed by yet another serial killer, too...although a revolutionary method of television-programme-making was attempted in this series:

instead of using acting, and words, and cameras, to convey the emotional journey someone goes on, so that when they do something extreme at the end, you understand why - they decided to do the opposite, and just get the viewer to 'fill in the blanks'.
Who even needs the middle of TV shows, right? - Let's just have a beginning and end - YAY!!

So anyway (at long last): after 'Deb' lets the turds slide, Dexter realises he can feel (*sob*), so he fakes the lab tests on 'Quinn', so he can also slide; BapTaster and his wife agree to a heart-warming 'fresh start'; and everyone gets together for a celebratory circle-jerk at a kids' birthday party. YAAAAAAYYY!!!

Fuck me...

Since when was drama synonymous with delusional, self-congratulatory, un-dramatic, inclusive, repetitive, un-dramatic (yes: I said it twice), idiotic flights-of-fancy, where things happen without appropriate context, or justification?
This is the opposite of drama: it's calm. It should be called a 'calm' - not a 'drama'.

Here's a 'cut out and keep' guide to every series of Dexter:

There is a serial killer in Miami. Dexter wants to catch him and kill him before the police catch him.
He is also going through issues about who he is, because he's a serial killer himself, and doesn't know how to deal with shit - like his personal life, because idiot viewers can relate to a mongoloid with a generic personal life.
But wait: 'Deb', a generic TV show character - in sharp contrast to Dexter, of course, who is meant to epitomise the antithesis of this - is stealing screentime by doing the same thing - every series: 'falling in love' with some man or other, and expecting viewers to actually enjoy seeing the same 'I've got issues; why won't a man love me?' schtick, year after God-foresaken year...
You can also expect somebody to be suspicious of Dexter, but nothing to ever come of it due to some imbecilic Deus ex Machina or other, like a murderer he just so happens to have accidentally become friends with killing the person who suspects him...

Oh yeah: 1. Where the fuck was Ghost-Dad in this series? and 2. Why did Dexter, whose entire life is based around a code of ethics precluding him from killing anyone who isn't a murderer, just casually murder a man - 'Liddy': the cunt who surveilled and captured him at the arse-end of this last series - without a second thought, or any mention of this at a later date? Pathetic.

I've seen less neatly tied-up, happy endings in fucking Disney movies.
What a joke.

'I don't see any other way out...he's gotta be stopped.'

Dumb and Dumber Remake

Yeah: so have you heard about this?

Apparently they've remade Dumb and Dumber - and it's set for release in just under a month; I hadn't even heard it was in pre-production!

Here's the poster, anyway:

 

No word yet on which one will be playing Harry, and which one Lloyd - I only hope they do the original justice - especially the scene where Lloyd (originally played by Jim Carrey) pisses in all them empty beer bottles, hahahaha.

I can't say whether I think Bale or Wahlberg would play Lloyd the best.

I mean: Bale looks Carrey - but then, does Wahlberg have the range of facial expressions to do Harry justice...?

Opinions...?

Skyline: An Exercise in Desperate, Impotent, Shameful Derivation.

Guilty parties:

Colin Strause; Greg Strause (aka: 'The Brothers Strause')
Joshua Cordes
Liam O'Donnell.

Accessories Before the Fact:

Man with Pubic Hair on Chin (aka: Pubes; aka: Eric Balfour)
Black Scrubs (aka: BS; aka: Donald Faison)
DCI BapTaster from Dexter (aka: David Zayas)
Piece of Ass #1 (aka: The Pregnant one, aka: Scottie Thompson)
Piece of Ass #2 (aka: The Blonde one, aka: Brittany Daniel)
Piece of Ass #3 (aka: The Slut, aka: Crystal Reed).

Films the Writers and Directors Have Seen:

Independence Day
War of the Worlds
Cloverfield
The Matrix 'Trilogy'

Plot:

Pubes goes to see Black Scrubs in 'LA'.
We are first introduced to Black Scrubs (henceforth: BS) as he drives an obnoxiously loud automobile, made by the Ferrari company, and listens to loud, banal 'hip-hop' music.
In terms of formulating crude, offensive stereotypes, which instantly enrage and repulse the viewer, 'The Brothers Strause' are up there with Julius Streicher and Josef Goebbels. I'm sure their parents are very proud of their creative talent their money.

So BS is an abhorrence - a pollutant on the face of the planet - the archetypal 'Turd in the Punchbowl'.
Pubes and Piece of Ass #1 go to see this arch-conformist - the kind of man who you see, and think: 'Maybe Al-Qaeda does have a point after all...' - on his birthday.
Turns out Pubes and BS go way back, and although BS has quite obviously now 'made it' (after all, nothing says 'achieved your purpose in life' than the possession of material wealth...), Pubes is 'getting by' back in wherever the fuck they're from...

However, in spite of BS displaying the garish behaviour I have described, and additionally: living in 'The Penthouse', and being married to Piece of Ass #2, who has - like all the other characters - the depth of a cardboard cut-out, he really is a nice guy.
His 'niceness' is made clear to us - the distraught viewers - via his bland, sterile, one-dimensional repartee with Pubes, and his fucking Piece of Ass #3 in a bathroom - behind his evil wife's back.
I made the word 'evil' bold there so that you, Dear Reader, know that it is factually correct that you can mistreat others if you first designate them as evil, Jewish, or wicked.
I know that I started to root for The Slut and BS against that evil Jewess as soon as The Brothers Goebbels implied - with all the subtlety of Joey Barton expressing his anger towards you - that I should hate her, and she was going to get her come-uppance.


So these turds are all hanging about in 'The Penthouse', partying for BS's birthday; then they fall asleep, and are woken by bright blue lights outside.
I mean, by this point, it is abundantly clear that the acting is of a calibre too low-brow and demeaning to get the Perpetrators roles in The Matrix 2 (if they were casting that film, and watching 'SkyShite' in order to get suitable recruits for it).
Anyway, they start walking around 'The Penthouse' in their underwear - which really began to grate after another twenty minutes of them not getting dressed -, whining about the situation, and saying stuff in such a manner that I really couldn't have cared less if they were removed from existence - indeed: I was actively willing that they would be.

...remind me: what is the purpose of acting, and entertainment?


So the mechanism by which 'The Aliens' come to earth is an obvious rip-off of that Steven Spielberg/Tom Cruise shitpiece War of the Worlds.
The 'glowing' shit on 'The Aliens' and 'The Spaceships' is a direct rip-off of Independence Day - as is the lame little battle between the planes and 'The Spaceship', where a nuclear missile is fired at 'The Spaceship', only to see it ineffective.
Erm....the shitty little aliens that go into apartments and look for people are a direct - and offensively obvious - rip-off of War of the Worlds, and The Matrix.


Anyway, while The Idiots are 'partying', BapTaster knocks on the door, asking them to be quiet - thereby establishing him as a man who works at the hotel, and so knows what he is doing when things are happening in the vicinity (i.e., he knows where every broom-closet, and mop-and-bucket, is).
This is a very subtle, but very important, bit of film-making, and really cements, for me, the reputation of 'The Brothers Strause'. What visionaries! That Shakespeare is dead, and cannot compose odes to these men; Alas!


Yeah: so BapTaster links up with the various Pieces of Ass, and Pubes, and they stay in 'The Penthouse' - as per BapTaster's recommendations: he is, after all, a trained hotel employee; they don't give that stupid fucking hat to anybody...you have to complete an hour's training first - you could get incorrectly bleached toilets otherwise.
They dick around in there for a bit, acting like jerk-offs who don't want you to like them, be interested in them, or live in a world in which they are not only permitted to live, but positively thrive.
Then various events, which are so banal and vigour-sapping that I cannot be brought to describe them (it is hard for me to believe that somebody actually did so, put their name to the document, and distributed it - let alone that a bunch of halfwits once stood around, with the backing of millions of dollars, and discussed how best to portray them on film), occur.


As a result of these events, BapTaster turns on the gas, puts a cigarette in his mouth, and holds up a lighter.
Now re-read that.


Obviously the man intends to smoke the cigarette: it's in his mouth, and that means that he intends to smoke it; so too does the fact that he is holding a lighter.
However, the gas is on...

If the gas is on, and you use a lighter, an explosion will occur; if an explosion occurs, you will be killed; if you are killed, you cannot smoke a cigarette.

So people who don't realise this logical absurdity are rich, and have the backing of other incredibly rich (and therefore powerful) people - and The People of the most advanced human civilisation to ever exist laud such efforts.
I see...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDrgwZsGC9A

The Ecstasy of Tits; The Agony of Paranormal Activity 2.

Dear reader: I had no intention of writing on this 'matter'. However, I found myself troubled by the issues it raised - so troubled by the thoughts which were vacillating in my mind, that I took to writing: as a therapeutic exercise - a means of clarifying and codifying my thoughts and feelings.
A while later, I found I had written enough, and of sufficient significance, to warrant the re-drafting which takes place in the process of typing my words into this blog.

Hence, here is documentation of the inner turmoil which unfolded after I had watched the motion picture Paranormal Activity 2 on Saturday night.

The first film - Paranormal Activity - had something to recommend it: tits. Joyful, life-affirming, satiating tits.
I remember watching that film at the cinema: transfixed by the metaphysical allure of the cleavage of the woman jerk-off; it was one of those rare moments in life: where the individual Will co-incided with the universal Will, and all was well with my existence.

If you're a man of cultured pallette, and refined tastes, dear reader, then you will understand me - and the joy and one-ness of carnal pleasure with the fairer sex - perfectly.
Contemplating this woman's transcendent cleavage extinguished the desire which Schopenhauer asserts characterises our lives as Willing, striving beings, and which we can otherwise only allay through art or music; indeed: was it not Aristotle who asserted that art is the attempt by man to recreate the beauty he sees in nature? And is it not the case that woman is - of necessity - the summum bonum of male views of beauty? All other aspects of the male are posterior...


Paranormal Activity 2 is so heinous an attempt to acquire money - such a gratuitous, unnecessary, banal, film, that I wonder whether it should be regarded as 'the straw that broke the camel's back', and thus the rallying cry for a wave of revolutionary mass-suicides across the globe, by the impotent, disenfranchised, nihilistic masses.
Yes: I think there is some merit in the idea that all of those who have paid to see this expletive should 'drink the Kool-Aid' - that those pessimists responsible for this movie should never again profit from such a travesty, and be vindicated in their bleak assessment of mankind.
So just as defeated samurai once redeemed themselves - to some degree - by ritual disembowelment, when it had become clear that they were unsuited to life, so too should we at long last acknowledge the blindingly obvious, and take responsibility for the same failure.
God help us.

The premiss of its forebear (Paranormal Activity) was that a couple of jerk-offs started experiencing some 'ghostly' activity in their home...I guess I would surmise that they experience 'abnormal activity'.
So this abnormal activity turns out to be a ghost/demon fucking about, and the woman jerk-off is all like 'This ghost has followed me all my life - no big deal'; but my anecdotal experience - that of a bored, indifferent man, with a low tolerance for bullshit - shouldn't be relied on as a source for this; instead, let us defer to 'Wikipedia':

'Katie claims that a ghostly presence has haunted her since her youth and believes that it has followed her to their new home. She hires a psychic, Dr. Fredrichs (Mark Fredrichs), who assesses that she is being haunted not by a ghost, but by a demon. He says the demon feeds off negative energy, and its intent is to haunt and torment Katie no matter where she goes. Before leaving, he advises them not to taunt or communicate with the demon'

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paranormal_Activity_%28film%29#Plot

Please keep this in mind, as it is a critical point when considering the premiss and events of the 'prequel', Paranormal Activity 2: the Banality of Evil.

Like Paranormal Activity, the 'prequel' adheres diligently to the formula of having a build-up of numerous days/nights where it's all like 'Things are normal'...then a little 'off-kilter'...then eventually they go fully 'crazy' (This film is so devastatingly formulaic, in fact, that I hear Nestlé have contacted those responsible, in the hopes that they will create a new baby formula with which to eradicate children in the third world.).
However, in this faeces-strewn 'thing that should not be', the 'build-up' portion of the film is taken to un-hilarious extremes, and the film seems to consist of a build-up to the end credits - or a list of the criminals responsible, and their specific role in The Outrage, as I see it; it's like they want us to kill ourselves.


So anyhow, for some reason - sorry: someone went on the internet and found out the true fact that if this idiotic shit happens, then as surely as seven follows six, it's a demon who is after somebody's first-born son which is the cause; ghosts dick you about, yes - but only demons get this serious!
Where was I...?
Oh right: so for this internet-based reason, that never-introduced, plot-advancing, generic boyfriend character tells us (the enfeebled peons), the pool-cleaning robot cleans up the side of the pool and gets out every night. Fuck me! I think I heard a toilet flush, and my body's will to keep me breathing go down with somebody's 12-inch log...


On about day 20 (I stopped paying attention to the day numbers after the Mexican nanny was fired/evicted without ever having received a verbal or written warning*...), anyway, all these cupboards open at the same time in front of this woman - meaning that there's no doubt that a real-life demon has come up from the Gateway to Hell in the basement.
But these people still do nothing: there is never even a serious discussion of their predicament, or possible solutions. In place of this staple of such standard fare 'motion pictures' as this tripe, the daughter character occasionally looks at something on the internet (I guess a character in a film using a contemporary tool makes that film forward-thinking and innovative. I really do want to choke these bastards to death.); and when the woman is finally, and undoubtedly (to the man) possessed, the man calls his evicted/fired/dispossessed/deported Mexican slave back to give her professional advice (because the spells she cast earlier had worked great thus far!).


So The Mexican is all like 'You have to pass the curse (like "the Dutchie") to the (left-hand) side': you can't escape the debt owed to the demon, but you can pas it to another family member - the sister who is the focus of Paranormal Activity, and who observes in that one that the demon has been giving her shit her entire life. 
If these 'film-makers' had any decency whatsoever, they would have given viewers Kool-Aid on their way out of the cinema.

...although, come to mention it: most of the people in the cinema laughed their bollocks off. 


*(Credit goes out to my main man Craig Doughty for pointing out this little fuck-up on the part of these 'film-makers'.)

'The X Factor'

Today I would like to give my thoughts on the yearly outrage that befalls the UK: 'The X Factor'.

'faecal material'

Due to the unflinching, unwavering, unflagging - unstinting - support, and attention given to this hideousness, year after year, I am moved to comment, that I might improve my disposition some, having done so, as one does after the passing of a kidney stone, or a cumbersome piece of faecal material: I have taken this vileness into my body, and rather than having it fester, I aim to purge it like the pestilence that it is.

So much for the preamble; onto my objections...

Early episodes of 'The X Factor' largely consist of people being humiliated for the sake of the viewer.
Yes: probably the most popular TV show in Britain, in 2010 (the last series averaging some 13 million viewers, out of a population of 60 million people - that is: almost a quarter of people in the UK), consists in human beings having their dreams destroyed, their hearts broken, and their singing ability thoroughly mocked; they put their hearts on the line only to have them crushed - while millions laugh.

'social pariahs'

In the olden days, things like this used to mean something: they put the freak in the cage, and people used to laugh - they used to stand wild-eyed, and they'd point, and they'd laugh: both disgusted and intrigued.
...what have we become?
Do we not owe even this common courtesy to people anymore? Is 'The X Factor's' humiliation validated on the grounds that the freaks are no longer compelled through being social pariahs, and destitute, to get in the cage - that rather, they choose to be treated in this way - even going to great expense (queuing for hours on end) for the chance to be made a spectacle of?

'Why was it that they could never shout like that about anything that mattered?'
- George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four

 

These early 'auditions' consist of this - and also, some genuine scum of the earth: real soul-less wretches, who would know neither emotion nor intellect if it introduced itself with the aid of a children's television show (the type that repeatedly, and simplistically, explains something fundamental to human life).
The later 'rounds' see only such insincere automata - dyed-in-the-wool conformists, to be sure - vie to be the machine which receives and carries out instructions which it does not understand - either in themselves, or in context - while the 'proles' (proletariat) root for one, and against others...the competitive, destructive instinct is thus fostered, and given an outlet - one that is sanctioned not only in legal terms (by the government/law permitting this atrocious 'show'), but in social, moral ones: nobody is condemned, or told to be ashamed of this behaviour; rather, it is regarded as normal, with nearly a quarter of human beings in the State regularly choosing to participate.

In these later rounds - beginning with 'boot camp' (which one freak compared to a different type of camp: a concentration camp) - the freaks are 'eliminated' at a much lower rate; and when told they're out, the process is made as long-winded and agonising for them as possible - as a result, the viewer's pleasure is as sweet and heightened as possible...this is entertainment.

'convict'

The convict (Cheryl Cole) even said, in the latest episode, 'I think she thought she was going through' after subjecting one troglodyte to this treatment, and disposing of it like a malingering turd you resent all the more for its malingering; it was in total shock...you could see the deadness in its eyes (I doubt that any viewers noticed this, as it was sincere emotion, and not a mere contrivance).

The ultimate goal, of course, of these soul-less, anencephalic animals, is to 'sing', and 'be sexy', while giving the pretense that this is sincere, and borne of an understanding of what they are doing. Not only is the message sent by what they are singing, and focus on their exterior physical appearance, abhorrent, but the tragedy is compounded by the fact that they do not understand that this is what they are doing! They regard what they are doing as worthwhile - necessary, even!
I can sympathise with a thick person whose most basic will, and impulse, is decent - they are kind, recognise their limits, and so forth - but one whose will is as vile, base, and self-serving as these vermin, I cannot accept.

'turd in the punchbowl'

A case in point is 'Cheryl Cole' - convicted violent criminal the Nation's Sweetheart. This pig - this vile wretch - this human obscenity - this turd in the punchbowl of mankind - has never done anything of note: is having no choice but to look a certain way a talent? Is that an achievement?
If so, were the racists right to marginalise those born with black skin all along?! Shouldn't white people be proud of their fantastic achievement of having the dumb fucking luck to be born with white skin?
She seems to me, so conscious of the pretense she has to contrive, that I am reminded of Winston Smith in Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four, where he speaks of the need to maintain a fixed expression upon the face, lest you be 'found out' for who you really are, and what you are thinking...
The most insane, maddening thing is, people have bought her pathetic, pessimistic act, and regard this violent criminal as a suitable role model for children!
How can we expect to look our children in the eye when they ask us what we did with the world, and why? Don't we owe them more than this!?!

'mongoloids'

This contrived, superficial, insincere drivel, is lapped up by The People - while sincere art, made for its own sake, due to necessity - the necessity to express yourself, and avail yourself of what you think and feel (for an excellent example of this, please watch the film The Lives of Others) - is left to languish, neglected....how can any argument be made that this is just? I defy anybody to watch 'The X Factor' (or listen to an album one of the previous 'winning' mongoloids has made), and The Lives of Others, and tell me that 'The X Factor' has contributed much more to mankind - hell: even the same.
Do The People need to have the emotional depth of a paddling pool, and an intellect lower than a snake's arse down a mineshaft, for the State to function - for those in power to retain their position?
If so, is the injustice committed by elevating these 'X Factor' imbeciles to role model status, really worth it? Is wealth and power really worth the cost of debasing mankind and existence with these worthless peons?

Perhaps it is a pessimist's - the devil's - joke: 'Look: look at mankind, God...there is no hope - whatever is good in the world is destroyed, neglected, or supported only incidentally, people not liking it for what it is, but because they see in it some superficial property that appeals to their base appetites...and you, God, made them in your own image! The small element of intellect you gave them, with which they can grasp the first principles of things, and "Play God" themselves - yes: they can approximate your power! - is insufficient, and not required for their life, which scarcely exceeds that of beasts, whose bodies they occupy.'.

Was Nietzsche right: do we need to shed the skin of mankind, that a further being can emerge - bereft of these weaknesses, embodying all that is higher in man above the other animals? I feel that such a development is a necessity - in order to save the planet, and ourselves, we must destroy ourselves: we must extinct mankind - a development that is purely social will not change the essence of man, no more than repeatedly throwing a stone into the air will make it stay there; no: we must seek to consign homo sapiens to the fossil record, that an animal whose 'base' impulses are not base at all, but noble, and progressive might emerge - the lower in this new species must be what is higher in mankind.

Give me strength...

'Him and Her' - Or Why Sisyphus Had It Easy.

Watching this show is a disconcerting experience for me: doing so causes me a feeling of great unease deep within - an ever-growing sense of unease, as if something terrible is imminent; it is akin to watching documentary footage of the rounding-up, and subsequent mass murder of Jews in World War II, I suppose.
I have, however, found myself compelled to watch every episode when i've seen that is on - not with an intention of 'rubbernecking' (for I never experience gratification, or satisfaction - however morbid - when watching this show, and the terrible fate befalls me, rather than those I am watching) - but because I need to understand what this feeling is, and why I feel it.
Well into the third episode, I at last found myself writing - writing what was the verbalisation of my confused, dark, foreboding thoughts - and I felt slight relief.
What follows is, with some minor alterations, what I wrote.

I know that the purpose of this show is to mock the mentally infirm/intellectually sub-normal. I know this. But the process - medium, if you will - is tedious and horrific!
We, the viewers, are placed in a Sisyphean hell: the protagonists are slower than a lobotomised tortoise, and as passive agents, the viewers are beholden to them - we must wait for them - we must wait for them to interact, to pontificate; a process akin to pulling teeth - except there is no necessity, no anaesthetic, and you do not emerge relieved and grateful for the experience afterwards.












Resurgence: is the humble mongoloid seeing a return to
prominence in public life...?

In terms of a historical, anthropological document, this could possibly be considered exquisite - if such a hell on earth exists (and I believe that it does) - but in terms of entertainment, or comedy - which is what it is (...intended to be) - it is diametrically in opposition.
I can't figure out the basis of the title characters' relatioship: they enjoy seeing one another suffer, and pursuing their own interests at the expense of the happiness of the other - it's horrifying.
There is a scene in which 'her' eats 'his' 'best ham', or some such nonsense foodstuff, while he is in another room; she later lies to him, when he asks where it is, telling him that he ate it the previous night, when 'drunk'...laughter was heard nowhere when this punchline was delivered, stillborn, through television sets across the country. So what reaction - besides contempt, horror, bafflement, or depression - should greet this atrocity...?

Sisyphus would have chosen pushing the boulder over hanging out with these cunts.

(Don't) Watch She and Him on the BBC iPlayer

Review of the Spanish Motion Picture '[Rec] 2'

[Rec] 2: [Rec] tum.

Robert Green Exposé!

I've done some snooping around, and it seems like Robert Green, the England goalkeeper for their infamous and disgraceful 1-1 draw with the USA in the 2010 football 'world cup', not only betrays the country of his birth, but he also likes to get dressed up in 'black-face' and create disturbances at comedy clubs in an effort to foment a 'race war' between 'whites and blacks', a la Charles Manson, the infamous cult weirdo and serial killer, who Green regards as his personal hero.
Observe:

Natalie Merchant - Live at Symphony Hall, Birmingham

Having bought the full album: 'Leave Your Sleep', rather than the abridged 'Selections From...', and finding the level of detail that went into it to be very impressive (over one hundred musicians were involved, and she painstakingly researched the poets whose words she put to music, writing about each of them in the book that accompanied the CD), and then paying £27:50 for a ticket to see her live, I was expecting to see Natalie Merchant accompanied by a full band, to help recreate - as best as she could - the sound on the album. I was therefore sorely disappointed to arrive (late) at the venue to see her accompanied only by two guitarists.
The die was cast, as the saying goes.

There is a certain tendency, particularly in instances of 'acoustic' music, for performers to slow songs down in order to convey a sense of 'weight', or poignancy, to their songs; Natalie Merchant is one person who never needs to do this: her music is incredibly insightful, and powerful - particularly when she 'opens her lungs'; however, this is exactly what she did...
I don't know if the audience can be looked to as a contributory cause, because they were all a bunch of cunts - the kind of cunts, if you follow my meaning, who hang out in 'pubs' and acclaim all things to be magnificent, lest they have to look at their worthlessness and experience the horror of insight: they greeted each new occurrence as though it was the most splendid, contrary thing imaginable (or even unimaginable, such is their low nature, and shock...)!
It is this attitude which might have influenced, subconsciously, the performance of Natalie Merchant - that is, she might have sought to pander to their base nature.

Regarding her performance: I am astounded that I must report that she forgot the words to her songs. She is touring an album that she does not know how to perform.
This is even more astounding an occurrence because she prefaced every song with a slideshow - projected on a large screen behind her:

...which she narrated, from memory, in detail...
During one song, she suddenly addressed a member of the audience while singing, and asked 'You've bought the album, haven't you?', because the mongoloid was trying to validate its existence by singing along; she then admitted that she asked this in order to distract from the fact that she had forgotten the words! The album/song came out a matter of months ago...
She later asked the audience for requests, because she wouldn't be back 'for about ten years', only to refute them all on account of her and her band not having rehearsed them/knowing how to play them; the song she chose, she ended up improvising with her guitarist: humming to try and figure out whether it was in C or G - thereby entirely negating any feeling, or atmosphere that could be created. Thanks.

She actually remarked to the gathered morons - whose proclivity for over-exuberance i have already documented - that if she was a dentist, say, and fucked up, people would feel aggrieved - however, that was what she was doing right now, in her professional capacity, and they were only too eager to applaud, and laugh! Here is an animated representation of what the crowd did throughout the performance:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4UdmYInXplY

If the performance had been what I had expected and hoped for, all of these travesties would have been transcended; but unfortunately it wasn't - a great shame, as I know that she is easily capable of doing so.

Iron Man 2

I think it might well be me: the world (well: the 'West') is a more and more contemptible place as the months pass, it seems. The content of the films offered at the mainstream cinema is insulting; i recently walked out of 'Repo Men' one laugh/entertainment/interesting event-free hour into it, only to walk into another contemptible piece of shit called 'Date Night'.

So it was that I was hoping that when I went to see something billed as a massive mainstream undertaking - Iron Man 2 - it would be at least hilariously bad: I was under no illusions - I did not expect that it would be of any credit or worth to mankind, or even the lower species - but I did think that those guilty would have at least managed the bare minimum: acting that gave the impression the actor gave a shit about being there; character development; meaningful (in the context of the film) events and characters; and so forth.

What was delivered made me think that an eight year old boy had conceived and directed the film - or was at least a much-utilised consultant to such an extent that they broke child-labour laws: at one point, believe me or not, two men in metal suits - not robots, mind - had a fight while the Daft Punk song 'Robot Rock' played...is the population full of retards not under the care of the State? Or are their carers actually permitted or encouraged to allow their meagre mental faculties to be abused and atrophied yet further with idiocy such as Iron Man 2, for some abstract reason i'm ignorant of?

The crux of the film was meant to be that main cunt (Robert Down's Syndrome jr.) was dying, and there was no way to stop it - but there was nothing at all done by the film-makers to convey any sort of tension with regards this critical part of the plot.
Alongside this was meant to be some sort of adversarial relationship with Mickey Rourke - the guy with a face like the cunt of Sarah out of Sex and the City: i.e., like Rocky's eye, in the words of Andrew Dice Clay - but Rourke had about five minutes of screen time in the two-hours this insult to the human race debased existence - including a final showdown with Down's which was as tense as the rest of the film - that is, as tense as a used condom sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
Which is where these bastards should all be, really - for the good of us all, including themselves: i'm sure they don't wish to continue hurting their loved ones and society by creating such abhorrence as this.

And if they do: then we have all the justification we need to do away with them.