Sunday, November 29, 2009

Today Is A New Chapter In My Life

Like a movie trailer with explosions, epic operatic music and awful one liners, the title of this particular blog post suggests so much, yet is actually a bit of a disappointment.

I have a new favourite album.

No it is not Metallica.
No it is not Rage Against the Machine

It is Superunknown by Soundgarden.

I just listened to it all and wondered why I never proclaimed my love for it.

That's all changing.

I love it.

So much.

So much so it's affecting my blog formatting.

Friday, November 27, 2009

F.A.B Virgil? My wooden puppet arse...

I was reminiscing earlier about all the wonderful Christmas toys I had. One that I hold dear to my heart is Tracey Island. I remember my parents fighting through the queues of Toys'r'us to acquire the 'must-have toy' so their little son wouldn't go without. I loved Thunderbirds, and so when I watched the live-action film the other day, it made me realise how absolutely terrible this film is. Yes, this is indeed a film review:

This is what happens when Americans get hold of something beloved and oh so quintessentially British. The Thunderbirds of the 1960's are without doubt one of the finest TV series the British have put their minds to. 50 minutes of disaster filled TV with puppets whose hands would magically transform into fully fleshed mitts able to operate all kinds of futuristic leavers. The audaciousness of the plots and settings were every little boys dream. Who didn't want to turn themeself into a wooden puppet, just so they could shoot Thunderbird 1 around the globe at 15,000mph? Ok, so im getting a bit nostalgic. But, when presented with such filth, you can't help but wonder what might have been.

So basically, Alan Tracey is at high school and is nodding off (much like the reviewer). Then out of nowhere, Lady Penelope comes flying out the sky in her Ford Rolls Royce (?) and whisks him off to Tracey Island. There, Alan learns of an evil plot by Ben Kingsley and his sidekicks that are so stereotypical it's like they're deliberately mocking themeselves. This evil plan consists of robbing the Bank of England of all its money and then hoping to escape somewhere using the Thunderbird's vehicles as cover. It eventually winds up........

........yeah you get it. Typical American shit. The Americans steal our basic concept, give it a big smothering of nothing, and then steal OUR money. It enrages you further when Bill Paxton is running operations at Tracey HQ. I mean, the guy couldnt even capture the Enigma code book in U-571 without dying. I mean, its not like the Americans had anything to do with capturing that book is it....?

Back to the film. So we have an 'impressive' debut performance from Brady Corbet, who is probably about as wooden as the puppet he replaces. Every scene he has a silly gurning expression (think Jar Jar Binks) on his face which means you can't take him seriously, even when he's trying to deliver serious lines and the tried-and-tested morals of 'be yourself'.

Sophia Myles does try her hardest to resurrect this car crash of a motion picture. I'm not at all being biased because she's British, it's just she's the only one who looks comfortable in-character as the fabulous Lady P. There's an air of old-fashioned British charm about her, like the puppets themselves. Speaking of car-crashes, Ford has a substantial say in this film, with literally every frame having the Ford logo dotted around everywhere your eyes can see. With the in-film news being sponsored by Ford, a Ford FAB 1 and various other Ford logo's in virtually every close-up, I was surprised to see someone other than Ford CEO's directing this picture.

I'm also surprised this has been named Thunderbirds because there are so many things wrong with it, they might as well have called it 'Stingray'. Firstly, Alan Tracey pilots Thunderbird 3, not 4 like at the end of the film. Then there's the age of the characters, with Alan, TinTin and that Ferret kid being teenagers whereas they should be fully fledged adults (and Ferret shouldn't even exist). Finally they break the key Thunderbirds rule in this film which is never get filmed by news crews etc. In the film, Jeff Tracey simply ravishes in the limelight whereas the real Jeff Tracey should be at home coordinating all of International Rescues relations. In other words, you begin to wonder if any of the people making the film actually knew what Thunderbirds was (that includes the evil dictators from Ford)

So this film is a complete disaster. And for people who knew and loved the original TV series, watching this film is like having your heart ripped out then thrown about like an American football. It's like one of those horrible Saturday morning kids shows set in an American high school. Shallow, not funny, alienating adults and generally feeling like a complete waste of time. Of course the adolescent American audience which this film is OBVIOUSLY aimed at will love, considering their only past experience of a Thunderbird is what their grandparents used to drive. Even that's a goddamn Ford......

A Man and His Mop


No I have not suddenly become emotionally attached to any cleaning equipment or anything else with handles (i.e. THAT broom I once danced with at a party whilst under the influence).

It's been about 3 months since I last had my haircut. I can see most of you going 'big deal, I haven't had mine cut in years'. I'm really happy for you, but I've never had my hair long. Ever. It's always been rather short. Not bald short, but kind of like a garden lawn thats cut every week by someone who probably cares more about their lawn than they do their own appearance. And now the person who cuts his lawn has died. The garden is out of control. There are weeds everywhere and even the odd mole burrowing all over the lawn.

If that natural analogy hasn't worked, then basically, my hair's got long. The sides are all fuzzy, the back is about as organised as Wigan's defence and it's becoming annoying all round. I look at it in the morning with some 'VO5 Texturising Gum' and look stumped. 'How the hell am I meant to make this look presentable?'

Nevertheless, I am going to soldier on. The likelihood is it's not going to get cut for another month (unless it turns into Devil's Snare and starts attacking me) so I have no option but to keep it. It's kind of like a puppy in some ways. It shits on everything and makes things look a mess, but at the end of the day, it's yours, and for that, you can't help but love it.

Tactical Nuclear Blog

With Christmas and New Year coming up, I'm always left wondering a) what do I want for Christmas? and b) how do I get unbelievably drunk on New Year? Well, some Scottish folks may have just answered both of my conundrums.

You see, a brewery in Fraserburgh in Scotland named BrewDog have come up with a beer that has an alcohol content of 32%. The beer is stored for a year and a half and then chilled at -4 degrees celsius for about 48 hours and voila, a world-record breaking beer. So, what did these Scot's decide to name their sophisticated concoction?

Tactical Nuclear Penguin.

That's more like it. In a world of red tape and health and safety officers who've got a phD in 'being a dick', it's nice to know there's a company out there with a sense of humour. Hell, even the label is brilliant: 'This is an extremely strong beer; it should be enjoyed in small servings and with an air of aristocratic nonchalance'. And to top it off, BrewDog revealed their 'Nuclear' beverage to the world on the same day the Scottish parliament were discussing minimum prices on alcohol. Perfect time.

In other news, I now have Xbox Live set up in my room at Uni. I'm now currently waving my degree goodbye like passengers on the Titanic waving at the people left in Southampton's docks. Ah bliss.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Spleen Eggs and Jam

If you click on this blog half as much as you do on the Facebook link which is most likely to be saved under the 'Bookmark' (or Obsession) tab, you'll realise there is a rather large gap between this blog and my last. When you're faced with the prospect of a mountain of university work, Call of Duty and sleep, blogging just seemed to pass me by...

Which is why I am returning (not with a Vengence like in Die Hard, or Reloaded like in that crazy film franchise about who could wear the longest leather jacket) with a bang -albeit muted one seeing as it's nearly 2am and I have nearly as much alcohol in me as a date-rape victim.

A mixture of things have happened since my last blog. I've turned 19 (although still retained my 12 year-old face), seen the mighty Gillingham F.C play, sh*t my pants for the first time since I was 4 watching Paranormal Activity, annoyed the people who run my uni accommodation, done 2 large assessed pieces of journalism work, seen numerous amounts of old friends and so forth. Like I said, haven't exactly been sitting on my arse these last few weeks.

The point of this blog you may ask? Well, I'm feeling pretty angry at the fact I currently have army-themed face paint on that refuses to come off, to the point of convincing me to purchase a series of tools from B&Q in order to remove the damn things before lectures commence tomorrow. I'm also pretty annoyed at how Facebook has just become a competition to join the most pointless groups possible. I don't really care that everyone has joined 'Jedward hate groups', I already get a sh*t load of weekly updates about their progress every Sunday. But as far as groups go, this one has to be my favourite, for the sheer audacity and originality: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=338479045264&ref=search&sid=1100452792.2420460539..1

Over and out xD