Nothing has actually changed, I just care less about having nothing to say. Lucky you.
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I read some West Wing spoilers. :::hums Jaws theme:::
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American Idol was on ITV2 tonight. Oh dear God. Why is George gone while Jasmine is still there? Why must Fantasia bawl and squeak as though she is being goosed with a large polish sausage? Why am I watching this show? Speaking of which...
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I just spent an hour watching Britain's Biggest Celebrity Mingers, which was on in Sky's familiar Sunday night barrel-scraping slot. I have no excuse other than post-work lethargy, having spent the day staring at graphic pictures of Akhmad Kadyrov meeting his maker.
(For the record: (3) Ann Widdecombe; (2) don't remember, possibly Jordan or Dean Gaffney or some other dimwitted microceleb with a headline fetish; (1) Mick Hucknall (of Simply Red), who was there, it would seem, for the crime of being rich and having ginger hair, and thus rhyming with the title by being a ginger minger*
*But only if you're stupid enough to pronounce ginger wrongly)
The worst thing was that of the commentators on this fine piece of television, there wasn't one of 'em you'd exactly call a work of art, unless that art was by Hieronymous Bosch.
Most of them were tabloid journalists -- who are seldom beautiful in body or soul in my experience. It's a bit rich to be rude about Camilla Parker Bowles or Vanessa Feltz when you look like a bulldog sucking piss off a thistle.
They were very rude about people with ginger hair. I think this may be a British thing, as according to Scott Capurro, it's mostly prized in the US (though in the Balkans, they think you're a vampire. Or is it a witch? I forget, as Britain's Biggest Celebrity Mingers appears to have melted my brain, marshmallow-like) Is this true? Is there anti-ginge prejudice in the US? Are you strawberry blonde if you're beautiful and ginger if you're not?
I am reminded of the tale of the barber's shop in Chorlton Cum Hardy which charged people with ginger hair two quid extra for a haircut because the bloke who owned it hated the texture of their hair.
Anyway, as a bit of a minger myself, I was well insulted. Not insulted enough to be arsed to turn over obviously, despite the pull of Diarmuid Gavin and Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen (OMG thierloveissodecorative!!1!) on UK Style (no, it's not a contradiction in terms. Stop heckling at the back) but definitely in the darker shades of nark.
This hammering of anyone who deviates from some imaginary and unrealistic standard for physical beauty is certainly hard on the rest of us.
Luckily for you lot, I happen to know that some of you are rather ravishing (please imagine this as said in a Leslie Phillips-type voice) and one of you even looks a bit like Uma Thurman, though she'd probably be incredulous if I said so. So...
Next week on the Sky barrel-scraping slot: A one-hour special on the bra, including many gratuitous shots of celebrity norks. I shit you not.
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I just downloaded the first two episodes of season one Stargate (you're all bastards. Repeat until fade) but when I tried to play them they had no sound. I just sat there saying "why? why won't you speak to me, Jack?" in a pathetic sort of way. Astoundingly, this did not correct the problem. A shocker, I know. Is there anything I can do to .avi files to make them play on a mac?
Aside from shouting "PLAY, YOU BASTARD!" and hitting the screen with a copy of Uncut magazine? Because I've already tried that.
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I was going to talk about politics but it's all depressing. I may work myself into a cheery froth over Margaret Thatcher at some point -- and I would happily dance on her grave for what she did to the North in the 80s if only the old bag would pop her clogs -- but really she's the only politician I truly loathe from somewhere deep in the reptilian hindquarters of my brain. Most of the rest just disgust me.
These photos in Iraq: I think other people have said what I think, and better, but isn't it a bit alarming the way the press is going for Lynndie England?
While I don't think she's a scapegoat because she was there and she was a vile cretin, the Sun's headline on Thursday was "Witch". She's the only one whose name is tripping off people's tongues. It just smacks of the familiar double standard whereby men and women commit the crimes but the women are truly vilified in the press for them.
Another case in point is Maxine Carr. Undoubtedly criminally foolish and a less-than-nice woman with some mental health issues, but she's not the one who killed the children. She believed her boyfriend and lied for him to the police. Let's not pretend she's Myra Hindley.
There's an interesting comment piece from The Observer on the matter here
Apparently the kinds of humiliation seen are part of a system of degradation taught to British and American forces, called R2I. The thesis put forward here is that what we're seeing at Abu Ghraib is former users of R2I who have become civilian contractors teaching their staff how to use it but missing out one essential part of the training -- where those taught to use R2I get to experience it for themselves in order to know just what a powerful weapon they are wielding. Article here Also, Joanne Bourke on torture as pornography
Ah, the vexed issue of contractors. Or mercenaries, as they would have been called in the 80s. Speaking of which...
Even if you can't stand to read one more bloody word about Iraq, I urge you to give this a try: Terry Jones (of Monty Python fame) on language and the war here. So deliciously sarcastic.
I particularly wish to bear his small, hairy manchildren for the paragraph about how Hollywood messes about with history.
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How much do I want to read Superman - Red Son? Very much
I've just finished The Da Vinci Code, a combination of info-dump and proto-film script in which all the "good" characters were twinkly-eyed and handsome and inimaginably articulate and the villain was an evil albino giant. Because there's nothing quite so enjoyable in this world as scapegoating people who look different [/follow-on rant]. Ah, Dan "now extremely rich" Brown; there's a man who took notes on The Eight when he read it. Plagerist!!!OMG!!11!Eleventyone!!! *g*
If I were 15 years old, I would have thought it was the greatest book ever. As it was, I thought it was glib, unlikely and underwritten but I couldn't put it down.
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A couple of driveby recs:
Keane's new album is supposed to be patchily excellent, much as Coldplay's debut was. I can highly recommend Everything's Changing, Bedshaped and Somewhere Only We Know for download. I'm sure that some will say it's a bit MOR but I don't care. It's *lovely*. It has sensitive boys playing *pianos* in a wistful fashion and singing about being lonely. I'll review further when I buy the album tomorrow. (Even though I'm skint.)
Shaun of the Dead How much do I love this film? Almost as much as I love Terry Jones right now (see above re: small hairy manchildren)
It's very, very funny *and* it has lots of fun eviscerations *and* it's a sweet romantic comedy *and* it's genuinely suspenseful *and* it has Chris Martin from Coldplay making a very funny, blink'n'you'll-miss-it appearance. I think the Chicago contingent would love it.
Admittedly, if you don't like seeing someone's intestines scooped out by the evil dead, you should probably give it a miss, but if you think you can stand a few seconds of that, definitely go and see this film when it comes out at a cinema near you. The website alone is brilliant.
A funny British comedy which is not about people taking their clothes off... A sign of the oncoming apocalypse, I think.
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