I am often accused of being a little infatuated with the works of Nicolas Cage. Which is fine with me because I know that I am. His output is unlike anyone working in Hollywood today. Cage probably has more detractors than fans, but to those who get the madness, mania and massive output, he is a Cinema Great. If you don’t think so it’s OK. You’re only wrong, it’s no big deal because I am sure you’re right about some things. Just not this.
I could barely fit in a book all the glowing things I have to say about Nic Cage, I could, and really do want to go into intricate detail about his back catalogue but who has the time? I am still working on turning the story of my summer adventure into some kind of coherent mass of words. I have resurrected an old script, trying to write 3 short stories which make up the larger picture of possibly my favourite idea, it involves Nazis. I am also currently, until two minutes ago, working on the pilot of a detective show.
Basically, I am trying to say I have plenty to be getting on with, but last night I watched The Rock and feel like talking about it at great length.
There are a few pictures which could be argued are The Best Ever Made. But this is always reliant on opinion, or rather the ability of the person(s) speaking to make a solid case on behalf of the movie, its makers and it’s stars. I always stand by True Romance when asked that all too silly question of What is Your Favourite Movie? True Romance is a well written story with great dialogue and an incredible cast who are all on top of their game. Think about the support cast in that picture, the Christopher Walken/Dennis Hopper scene is a stone cold classic piece of Hollywood Gold. Even the tiny part Brad Pitt plays is memorable. It is an easy and educated answer to a fairly redundant question.
The Rock, however, is just as good. It is a very different beast though. It isn’t as cool as True Romance because very little is, but as far as action movies go, The Rock kicked back into life the Action Thriller. Not only that but it became a blueprint for a whole new generation of film makers.
Released in 96 it did a lot for a genre that had become a little uncool after the heady heights of the 80s, a decade which seemed to be made up entirely of Action Movies, catchphrases and violence all the family could enjoy.
Like True Romance there is a Tarantino connection, he wrote True Romance and did work on the script for The Rock, albeit uncredited. Being that Quentin Tarantino is one of the greatest directors of all time and a purveyor of quality dialogue since before his first own movie changed the way people looked at film making, this should only increase peoples love of The Rock.
The Rock is the story of disgruntled Marine General Francis Hummel, played by Ed Harris, who steals rockets armed with VX Gas and plans to fire them at San Francisco from his base on Alcatraz unless, of course, he is paid one hundred million, billion dollars. Classic set up. But will he pull it off?
Probably not because the Feds have an ace up their sleeve. Nic Cage plays a Chemical Weapons Expert called Stanley Goodspeed who is brought in, he thinks, to educate the Seal team, led by Michael Biehn, on how to disarm the rockets and save the day. Little does he know that he will have to actually join the seal team for the incursion. It is important to point out that Goodspeed is a man who drives a beige Volvo and eats pressure for breakfast, but he is not a field agent, and has never killed anyone.
To help the seal team and Nic Cage fight Ed Harris’s army of mercenary traitors is a man who has been in jail longer than Nelson Mandela, locked up, forgotten about and left for dead. Former SAS spy, master of escapology and a man who knows the USA’s most secret secrets from The Alien Landing at Roswell to the JFK assassination. Sean Connery, ladies and gentlemen, playing John Mason, from Glasgow. His involvement in the story is thanks to the fact that John Mason is the only man to have ever broken out of The Rock and survived.
The cinematic soup created by the people involved, established early on, gives off an aroma that can’t be argued. It smells great.
When it comes to Nic Cage, as I said earlier, some people get upset, angry and loud about how he can’t act, or makes too many movies, or something about his hair. While I can see how people don’t get it, I am here to maybe push those people in the right direction. He has taken the thing that made Die Hard a great franchise- the every man bit- and ran off in an odd direction with it. Nic Cage plays the every man with Gusto. He makes decisions that most actors couldn’t. He makes decisions that most actors don’t even know are options. His refusal to swear in The Rock, for example, makes for some of the most memorable lines in the film. I point you towards Zeus’ Butthole, Gee Whiz, Golly and What Say We Cut The Chit Chat A-hole! He could have sworn, I would imagine swearing was in the original script, but Cage knew that would be easy, opting instead to keep it clean because maybe a chemical weapons specialist has no interest in swearing. Maybe Stanley Goodspeed was brought up by loving, but strict parents who taught him well. You don’t know.
The irk which forced Ed Harris’s hand is that the American Government failed his men who were left to rot outside Baghdad after operation Desert Storm. This is another thing the movie seems to put across at times, the ineptitude of the American Military, while speaking highly of the British and their handling of situations. This, to all the youngsters, was how the so called Special Relationship used to be. Britain were in charge of the thinking and America took care of the blowing shit up. It worked. But that is all ancient history now. Thanks 9/11!
This film truly has it all; domestic terrorism, gas that melts your skin before doing such a number on you that you spasm so hard you break your own back, conspiracy theories, shadow ops, Alcatraz, obligatory car chase down that big hilly road in San Francisco, brutal kills, quality action movie dialogue, edge of the seat sequences, high quality photography, bad guys you really hate (like the guy with the big jaw) good guys you really like, believability, empathy for certain characters. It is quality from start to finish. And, as if all that isn’t enough, it has Michael Fucking Biehn in it. To those born at the right time, Biehn is a stamp of pure quality.
I better start trying to wrap this up, we all have stuff to do, but I felt compelled to gush a little, but don‘t want to spoil it. The Rock is a movie that should be taught. I studied cinema, briefly. Not once was it brought up. We watched Battleship Potemkin and took it to pieces for what felt like months, we watched Italian Neo Realism for kicks and of course we watched Citizen Kane and I had to learn to deal with the highly pretentious talking about it as if it is the only film ever made. But not once was The Rock brought up. The Rock is a modern classic. It only gets better with age. It is easy, I suppose, for people to disregard it because it is a Nic Cage action movie from the 90s featuring Sean Connery, a man who is usually so hammy he makes me crave mustard, yet it all comes together to make a not-far-from-perfect picture. This kind of thing came up at Christmas when I watched Hook, it is easy to forget that Captain Hook is one of Dustin Hoffman’s finest performances. The way the world is today, and was back then, movies are only taken seriously if it deals with super heavy subject matter. Look at what nonsense Hollywood shat out this month, the film about how a tsunami affected an American family, forgetting the story was about a Spanish family. That isn’t even the point. Making a film about it, to me, is pointless. I saw the news footage and the doc made up of home videos shot at the time. I couldn’t take anymore. I certainly couldn’t take Hollywood’s take on the matter. Although I am in no doubt that the dialogue will be totally hilarious. Movies don’t have to be super serious to be a game changer. You won’t hear about that Tsunami movie in 20 years, but people will still be watching The Rock.
If you have not watched it in a while or, for some nonsensical reason, never watched The Rock you should do yourself a favour. Sit down, switch off and bask in the full glory of it, potentially The Greatest Action/Adventure/Thriller Ever Made.
Friday, 18 January 2013
Sunday, 13 January 2013
I Just Sent This to E4. I can't Take Any more.
Dear E4.
Alex Zane is a cunt.
I have sat here trying to come up with a more grown up way of starting this that would ease you and I into it with an element of class and sophistication. But Alex Zane is a cunt and there is no other way to put it.
The tiny suit wearing scourge of Rude Tube has had enough time to show any of the talent one is supposed to possess in order to land a job presenting a TV show. He has also had enough time to write jokes that are actually funny, or failing that find people to write them for him. Although I would imagine that even if he got the greatest comedians who have ever lived to write jokes for him he would still manage to drain every ounce of humour from them such is the magnitude of the Comedic Black Hole this prick creates every time you cut back to studio. Hate is a strong word, I am aware of this, but I hate Alex Zane. I hate him hard.
From the off, without even needing to get too deep into the vicious things I could say about this dick, he is extraneous. Much like that wee fanny Richard Hammond on Total Wipeout. There is no need to cut to someone in a studio for introductions to something that wouldn’t need an introduction if the director just ran the video. There is no need to try and expand on an already funny clip with a sketch which can only be described as a terribly unfunny, pointless reiteration of a video I only just fucking watched.
Have any of you people ever watched You’ve Been Framed? Although the videos are largely predictable, middle class mishaps that more often than not result in some poor bastard taking a shot to the nuts or old ladies exposing their big panties, there is no onscreen presenter. They hired a funny comedian to narrate it, they probably didn’t even think of doing what you do because it is just utterly pointless. But you do it and besides the nonsensical decision to have a presenter you still chose Alex Zane, which is really incredible. Just how you landed on his name is a mystery. You could have hired anyone, you could have hired Gallagher to smash the shit out of fruit in the studio, the two are on the same comedic level. Alex Zane opens his mouth and the sound of a watermelon being obliterated by a sledgehammer wielding imbecile rings in my ears with a chorus of applause from the truly, truly dumb. It distracts me from the videos and I don’t have Sky+ so I can’t fast forward through it like my friends do, I just have to stomach it. Even if I did have the ability to scan past him I would still see his face and those fucking suits.
There is a man working for you dressed in children’s suits telling jokes that aren’t funny, making puns that would shame a tabloid hack, performing sketches that do nothing but waste your time and ours. It would benefit both of us if you fired Alex Zane. If you sacked him and hired someone who is actually funny and has a decent speaking voice to narrate Rude Tube then you would save some money and be able to put more videos on the show. The latter also benefits us, the viewers, but we would also benefit from his dismissal because it would no longer be such an emotional rollercoaster. One second I am laughing like a madman because there’s a guy doing really impressive air drumming using his cat‘s paws, the next I am having to endure some wee talent void in an ill fitting suit cracking wise in a way that isn’t just unfunny, but actually depressing and infuriating. The only explanation I can think of is that his Mum and/or Dad have a connection to the production company or your channel.
You need to do something about it, E4. Only you can do something about this. He had a good run, but things need to change because he really is a cunt. A cunt of Herculean proportions, if you asked the British public “who is the biggest cunt on TV?” I promise that a really high number would say Alex Zane. Because he really is The Biggest Cunt on TV.
Alex Zane is a cunt.
I have sat here trying to come up with a more grown up way of starting this that would ease you and I into it with an element of class and sophistication. But Alex Zane is a cunt and there is no other way to put it.
The tiny suit wearing scourge of Rude Tube has had enough time to show any of the talent one is supposed to possess in order to land a job presenting a TV show. He has also had enough time to write jokes that are actually funny, or failing that find people to write them for him. Although I would imagine that even if he got the greatest comedians who have ever lived to write jokes for him he would still manage to drain every ounce of humour from them such is the magnitude of the Comedic Black Hole this prick creates every time you cut back to studio. Hate is a strong word, I am aware of this, but I hate Alex Zane. I hate him hard.
From the off, without even needing to get too deep into the vicious things I could say about this dick, he is extraneous. Much like that wee fanny Richard Hammond on Total Wipeout. There is no need to cut to someone in a studio for introductions to something that wouldn’t need an introduction if the director just ran the video. There is no need to try and expand on an already funny clip with a sketch which can only be described as a terribly unfunny, pointless reiteration of a video I only just fucking watched.
Have any of you people ever watched You’ve Been Framed? Although the videos are largely predictable, middle class mishaps that more often than not result in some poor bastard taking a shot to the nuts or old ladies exposing their big panties, there is no onscreen presenter. They hired a funny comedian to narrate it, they probably didn’t even think of doing what you do because it is just utterly pointless. But you do it and besides the nonsensical decision to have a presenter you still chose Alex Zane, which is really incredible. Just how you landed on his name is a mystery. You could have hired anyone, you could have hired Gallagher to smash the shit out of fruit in the studio, the two are on the same comedic level. Alex Zane opens his mouth and the sound of a watermelon being obliterated by a sledgehammer wielding imbecile rings in my ears with a chorus of applause from the truly, truly dumb. It distracts me from the videos and I don’t have Sky+ so I can’t fast forward through it like my friends do, I just have to stomach it. Even if I did have the ability to scan past him I would still see his face and those fucking suits.
There is a man working for you dressed in children’s suits telling jokes that aren’t funny, making puns that would shame a tabloid hack, performing sketches that do nothing but waste your time and ours. It would benefit both of us if you fired Alex Zane. If you sacked him and hired someone who is actually funny and has a decent speaking voice to narrate Rude Tube then you would save some money and be able to put more videos on the show. The latter also benefits us, the viewers, but we would also benefit from his dismissal because it would no longer be such an emotional rollercoaster. One second I am laughing like a madman because there’s a guy doing really impressive air drumming using his cat‘s paws, the next I am having to endure some wee talent void in an ill fitting suit cracking wise in a way that isn’t just unfunny, but actually depressing and infuriating. The only explanation I can think of is that his Mum and/or Dad have a connection to the production company or your channel.
You need to do something about it, E4. Only you can do something about this. He had a good run, but things need to change because he really is a cunt. A cunt of Herculean proportions, if you asked the British public “who is the biggest cunt on TV?” I promise that a really high number would say Alex Zane. Because he really is The Biggest Cunt on TV.
Thursday, 27 December 2012
The Best Thing About 2012...
2012 has been one of my favourite years. The reasons are many, probably, I will hopefully think of some before the end of this but I have only just realised that I enjoyed it. On WorldNewsVine.com I used to do a predictions for the year to come in favour of doing the more common Year in Review style bit. This would be a terribly depressing thing to do this year. We made it through this year by the skin of our teeth and I don’t want to think about next year just yet.
Despite the best efforts of the Internet, conspiracy theories and the wildly religious, the world is still spinning and we are still alive, congratulations on your survival.
2012 will be remembered as the year in which many people thought the world was going to end. The rest of us will remember it as the year we realised just how many people are wasting valuable oxygen and are too fucking gullible. I am no retro-hipster-wank but I didn’t like the Mayan prophecy of 2012 as much as I liked Harold Camping’s Rapture in 2011. While Harold Camping and his Rapture For The Boys, so to speak, was as far from the mark and as hideously nonsensical as a bit of stone from thousands of years ago predicting the end of the world, it was much funnier thanks to the number of his followers who destroyed their lives and the lives of their loved ones by selling everything they owned in preparation for the Rapture.
Heaven has a cover charge apparently.
The good thing about Camping’s Rapture is that they didn’t commit mass suicide and are left alive to think about how stupid they are. But this is about what happened in 2012 so spare a thought for the idiots who are still cowering in the bunkers in their garden, too scared of things they found out about on conspiracy sites to open the door and confront their unfathomable stupidity.
The End of The World, Royal babies, the Olympics, singing contests, Mormons trying to fit into reality, my government supporting genocide in Palestine, famous people dying just like regular people, the NRA landing on “arm teachers” as their response in the wake of yet another mass shooting in a school.
These things happened. Some funny, some tragic, some out of order and some downright insulting things made 2012 the year it was. But none of the above are close to the thing I liked most about this year. The thing I liked most about 2012 was an offshoot of one of the biggest things that happened on the internet in 2012.
Stop Kony was a campaign that captured many hearts and much money in March this year, but failed to capture or stop, or even prove the existence of Kony. The short film released by an organisation called Invisible Children used a small white child to raise awareness for small black children being forced into fighting by a man called Joseph Kony. It was a sad movie and made good points.
What was truly wonderful about this movement, other than the immediate acceptance of it’s legitimacy based on nothing but our combined conscience, was what came next.
Jason Russell was one of the people behind the movement, the small white child in the video is his son, and he is the guy exposing his son to the horrors of life as a child soldier in Africa. Not too long after the release of the video Jason Russell was in the news representing himself, his family and his wildly conservative religion in my favourite news story of 2012, and potentially of all time.
If you make an effort to educate, be it through the medium of music, film, art, writing or anything else, and you make points that you are passionate about and wish others to take seriously then you have to be really careful not to totally destroy all that hard work.
Not too long after the release of the film Jason Russell, devout Christian, took mind bending hallucinogenic drugs and ran around the streets naked, stopping only to wank furiously in the direction of whatever poor bastard who happened to be near him. He wanked on the pavement, he wanked on the road, he jumped on someone’s car and wanked on that. After releasing a movie about a tyrant, giving his kid an early insight into the true evil people are capable of and making a lot of money for the charity and it’s investors he embarked on a Magical Masturbation Tour of San Diego which ended in jail and humiliation. But most importantly it destroyed his wee film. It destroyed his point. It took everything good about his film and replaced it with wanking in public.
I don’t think we will ever manage those heights again. If something funnier ever happens I don’t think I could handle it. I watched the newsreel of him jumping on that car more than most people watched Stop Kony.
The news on TV is one of the big casualties on this year, and now that they have no issues doing something as sickening as reporting live from the funeral of a child, they won’t have time for actual news anymore, let alone a video of a guy wanking ON San Diego.
2012 was fun on a personal level too. I spent 4 months of it in North America, starting with Biffy Clyro in California while they recorded their new album and ending in a sort of mini crime spree in Canada. I even managed to hold it all together long enough to write a book about the whole thing. Maybe in 2013 you will get to read it. As long as we are not wiped out by the many things we seem to create to keep us scared of each other, the sky above us all and the water that surrounds us.
I love you guys. You’re all totally smashing. We should all get together sometime and have an orgy. Let me know.
Dr Henry Hunter. 2012.
X
Despite the best efforts of the Internet, conspiracy theories and the wildly religious, the world is still spinning and we are still alive, congratulations on your survival.
2012 will be remembered as the year in which many people thought the world was going to end. The rest of us will remember it as the year we realised just how many people are wasting valuable oxygen and are too fucking gullible. I am no retro-hipster-wank but I didn’t like the Mayan prophecy of 2012 as much as I liked Harold Camping’s Rapture in 2011. While Harold Camping and his Rapture For The Boys, so to speak, was as far from the mark and as hideously nonsensical as a bit of stone from thousands of years ago predicting the end of the world, it was much funnier thanks to the number of his followers who destroyed their lives and the lives of their loved ones by selling everything they owned in preparation for the Rapture.
Heaven has a cover charge apparently.
The good thing about Camping’s Rapture is that they didn’t commit mass suicide and are left alive to think about how stupid they are. But this is about what happened in 2012 so spare a thought for the idiots who are still cowering in the bunkers in their garden, too scared of things they found out about on conspiracy sites to open the door and confront their unfathomable stupidity.
The End of The World, Royal babies, the Olympics, singing contests, Mormons trying to fit into reality, my government supporting genocide in Palestine, famous people dying just like regular people, the NRA landing on “arm teachers” as their response in the wake of yet another mass shooting in a school.
These things happened. Some funny, some tragic, some out of order and some downright insulting things made 2012 the year it was. But none of the above are close to the thing I liked most about this year. The thing I liked most about 2012 was an offshoot of one of the biggest things that happened on the internet in 2012.
Stop Kony was a campaign that captured many hearts and much money in March this year, but failed to capture or stop, or even prove the existence of Kony. The short film released by an organisation called Invisible Children used a small white child to raise awareness for small black children being forced into fighting by a man called Joseph Kony. It was a sad movie and made good points.
What was truly wonderful about this movement, other than the immediate acceptance of it’s legitimacy based on nothing but our combined conscience, was what came next.
Jason Russell was one of the people behind the movement, the small white child in the video is his son, and he is the guy exposing his son to the horrors of life as a child soldier in Africa. Not too long after the release of the video Jason Russell was in the news representing himself, his family and his wildly conservative religion in my favourite news story of 2012, and potentially of all time.
If you make an effort to educate, be it through the medium of music, film, art, writing or anything else, and you make points that you are passionate about and wish others to take seriously then you have to be really careful not to totally destroy all that hard work.
Not too long after the release of the film Jason Russell, devout Christian, took mind bending hallucinogenic drugs and ran around the streets naked, stopping only to wank furiously in the direction of whatever poor bastard who happened to be near him. He wanked on the pavement, he wanked on the road, he jumped on someone’s car and wanked on that. After releasing a movie about a tyrant, giving his kid an early insight into the true evil people are capable of and making a lot of money for the charity and it’s investors he embarked on a Magical Masturbation Tour of San Diego which ended in jail and humiliation. But most importantly it destroyed his wee film. It destroyed his point. It took everything good about his film and replaced it with wanking in public.
I don’t think we will ever manage those heights again. If something funnier ever happens I don’t think I could handle it. I watched the newsreel of him jumping on that car more than most people watched Stop Kony.
The news on TV is one of the big casualties on this year, and now that they have no issues doing something as sickening as reporting live from the funeral of a child, they won’t have time for actual news anymore, let alone a video of a guy wanking ON San Diego.
2012 was fun on a personal level too. I spent 4 months of it in North America, starting with Biffy Clyro in California while they recorded their new album and ending in a sort of mini crime spree in Canada. I even managed to hold it all together long enough to write a book about the whole thing. Maybe in 2013 you will get to read it. As long as we are not wiped out by the many things we seem to create to keep us scared of each other, the sky above us all and the water that surrounds us.
I love you guys. You’re all totally smashing. We should all get together sometime and have an orgy. Let me know.
Dr Henry Hunter. 2012.
X
Saturday, 1 December 2012
Hey Buddy, Update Time!
As is always the case I have been distracted of late, keeping me from updating this or doing anything else really. I have been writing this book since the day I got back from my trip. As far as I know it is going to be called Don't Call Me Buddy, Buddy! It has a long subtitle too, but so far that has only been for the amusement of myself and I doubt it will stick.
Even this blog, which I am doing to keep you up to date, is a distraction of sorts. I am lying in my pit watching Columbo, reading over what I have done already and hoping that I write some more before I have to go to work. But there is no stress. Much like my trip, it will be done when it's done. I hope.
Last week I had the mild blues brought on, I think, by doing nothing but sitting in various rooms writing and doing not much else. Today is the first time in a week I have even opened the file holding my story. I am not saying it is good, but so far I have resisted the urge to delete the whole thing and actually do something with my life that would get me out of this damn room.
Few things bring me as much pleasure as writing. I mean, there is always sex, drugs and whatever kind of music you are into, but I take a strange kind of pleasure from stringing words together. Albeit with a complete disregard for the entire concept of grammar. I am aware of this and don't need some fool pointing it out to me.
I hope to be done with this soon, I feel like I have been talking to you guys for ages about it. I have got rid of many distractions, facebook, shifts, comfort in the quest to wrap this up. But I have spent most of the last week procrastinating, pondering pointless nonsense like just what the fuck the people who made Lethal Weapon 2 were all about casting Juney Smith in the role of Tom Wyler, a member of the squad who looks far too much like Danny Glover to have been cast in the same police unit as him. I have worried that this idea makes me racist, but the guy is so much like Danny Glover that when Wyler gets shot dead - while hanging upside down for absolutely no reason at all - the South African badguy actually has to mention that he isn't shooting Danny Glover just so the audience don’t get confused due to sloppy casting.
I don’t think it is racist. I have given this a lot of thought. Go watch the movie, you’ll see what I mean. You should watch it anyway, it is the best one. By a fucking mile. See when Mel puts his shoulder back in place after winning his bet, watch the older cop right next to him as he slams his shoulder into the wall. This bit part actor delivers some of the greatest acting I’ve ever seen. A fine example of taking your chances. It truly is a wonderful film.
Anyway, I guess you understand my predilection to distraction now. I am always looking out for something to over analyse in favour of actually doing any work.
But I think I have a point. That cunt in Lethal Weapon looked exactly like Danny Glover from the shape of his face to the moustache on it.
I mean, it doesn’t really matter. But it is really fucking annoying.
Anyway. I can’t wait for you guys to read Don’t Call Me Buddy, Buddy! I just hope the Mayans were on the wind up and I will get a chance to finish it.
Even this blog, which I am doing to keep you up to date, is a distraction of sorts. I am lying in my pit watching Columbo, reading over what I have done already and hoping that I write some more before I have to go to work. But there is no stress. Much like my trip, it will be done when it's done. I hope.
Last week I had the mild blues brought on, I think, by doing nothing but sitting in various rooms writing and doing not much else. Today is the first time in a week I have even opened the file holding my story. I am not saying it is good, but so far I have resisted the urge to delete the whole thing and actually do something with my life that would get me out of this damn room.
Few things bring me as much pleasure as writing. I mean, there is always sex, drugs and whatever kind of music you are into, but I take a strange kind of pleasure from stringing words together. Albeit with a complete disregard for the entire concept of grammar. I am aware of this and don't need some fool pointing it out to me.
I hope to be done with this soon, I feel like I have been talking to you guys for ages about it. I have got rid of many distractions, facebook, shifts, comfort in the quest to wrap this up. But I have spent most of the last week procrastinating, pondering pointless nonsense like just what the fuck the people who made Lethal Weapon 2 were all about casting Juney Smith in the role of Tom Wyler, a member of the squad who looks far too much like Danny Glover to have been cast in the same police unit as him. I have worried that this idea makes me racist, but the guy is so much like Danny Glover that when Wyler gets shot dead - while hanging upside down for absolutely no reason at all - the South African badguy actually has to mention that he isn't shooting Danny Glover just so the audience don’t get confused due to sloppy casting.
I don’t think it is racist. I have given this a lot of thought. Go watch the movie, you’ll see what I mean. You should watch it anyway, it is the best one. By a fucking mile. See when Mel puts his shoulder back in place after winning his bet, watch the older cop right next to him as he slams his shoulder into the wall. This bit part actor delivers some of the greatest acting I’ve ever seen. A fine example of taking your chances. It truly is a wonderful film.
Anyway, I guess you understand my predilection to distraction now. I am always looking out for something to over analyse in favour of actually doing any work.
But I think I have a point. That cunt in Lethal Weapon looked exactly like Danny Glover from the shape of his face to the moustache on it.
I mean, it doesn’t really matter. But it is really fucking annoying.
Anyway. I can’t wait for you guys to read Don’t Call Me Buddy, Buddy! I just hope the Mayans were on the wind up and I will get a chance to finish it.
Monday, 26 November 2012
Breaking News: Winter is Cold.
I wrote this a few years ago, but it is worth keeping it in mind. The news has already started with their pish. Winter is coming, it's fine.
Breaking News: Winter is Cold.
"I haven’t been on here in ages. But I thought it would be the best place to do what I’m about to do, which is save lives. Which is important.
In a global sense, I don’t know many of you, and statistically I probably wouldn’t get on with many of you either. Which is both our faults. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to look out for you. You see, despite the many differences that have been created by shadows to keep us apart… We are all exactly the same. Some of us are slightly more toned and handsome though.
Anyway, I digress.
This is, in essence, a public service announcement, and like any public service announcement, I am trying to save lives. I don’t expect anything in return. I am a selfless human who only wishes to be left alone.
It is already October, which means soon the Winter will be here. Some places sooner than others, I’d give it one more week here in Scotland before the frost arrives.
But we shouldn’t panic. If you have been alive a while, you must have noticed the pattern. Generally speaking, after Autumn - or Fall depending on your geographical location - comes Winter. This happens EVERY SINGLE YEAR.
Winter, for those not paying attention is a fairly cold season, the coldest season actually. So don’t worry… That white stuff that covers your world, that you used to think was picturesque, that’s called frost. Sometimes it’s called Ice. Ice, by it’s very nature is a slippery bugger, so you should watch your feet. Walk slowly, which will not only save your bones, it will also give you a chance to take in the awesome beauty of a winter landscape.
The other white stuff, the softer, more fun and versatile substance is snow… Remember the stuff you longed for when you were a kid… It’s the same stuff. And it is still as much fun.
You can build things out of it, or ball it up and throw it at people. If you are a real crazy cat you can get a bit of plastic, sit on it and go down a hill. It’s called sledging. You used to look forward to it.
You have no excuse now. I have given you fair warning, you hopefully won’t be too shocked when that bastard white stuff falls on you… Stopping you getting to your job, or school. The Horror! The Horror!
It’s going to be cold, we know it’s going to be cold. It’s fucking winter. Don’t listen to the news. If you get a day off work because of the snow, count yourself lucky. Go out and enjoy it. Because before long you’re going to be bitching that the summer is too hot.
Breaking News: Winter is Cold.
"I haven’t been on here in ages. But I thought it would be the best place to do what I’m about to do, which is save lives. Which is important.
In a global sense, I don’t know many of you, and statistically I probably wouldn’t get on with many of you either. Which is both our faults. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to look out for you. You see, despite the many differences that have been created by shadows to keep us apart… We are all exactly the same. Some of us are slightly more toned and handsome though.
Anyway, I digress.
This is, in essence, a public service announcement, and like any public service announcement, I am trying to save lives. I don’t expect anything in return. I am a selfless human who only wishes to be left alone.
It is already October, which means soon the Winter will be here. Some places sooner than others, I’d give it one more week here in Scotland before the frost arrives.
But we shouldn’t panic. If you have been alive a while, you must have noticed the pattern. Generally speaking, after Autumn - or Fall depending on your geographical location - comes Winter. This happens EVERY SINGLE YEAR.
Winter, for those not paying attention is a fairly cold season, the coldest season actually. So don’t worry… That white stuff that covers your world, that you used to think was picturesque, that’s called frost. Sometimes it’s called Ice. Ice, by it’s very nature is a slippery bugger, so you should watch your feet. Walk slowly, which will not only save your bones, it will also give you a chance to take in the awesome beauty of a winter landscape.
The other white stuff, the softer, more fun and versatile substance is snow… Remember the stuff you longed for when you were a kid… It’s the same stuff. And it is still as much fun.
You can build things out of it, or ball it up and throw it at people. If you are a real crazy cat you can get a bit of plastic, sit on it and go down a hill. It’s called sledging. You used to look forward to it.
You have no excuse now. I have given you fair warning, you hopefully won’t be too shocked when that bastard white stuff falls on you… Stopping you getting to your job, or school. The Horror! The Horror!
It’s going to be cold, we know it’s going to be cold. It’s fucking winter. Don’t listen to the news. If you get a day off work because of the snow, count yourself lucky. Go out and enjoy it. Because before long you’re going to be bitching that the summer is too hot.
Tuesday, 16 October 2012
North American Adventure Photos.
Here is a little update. The attempt to get my notes and fuzzy memories into some kind of order is going ok. I am deep, deep into it. I am always on the look out for something that I can do to fill the time on the days i am "not really feeling it" which is writer for "being a lazy bastard."
Fortunately, I remembered something that I have been planning to do for a while, update my flickr with pics from the trip.
So. Here it is. It's not all the pics because I can't be bothered doing that much stuff. I am almost sick of the entire concept of technology at this point. But there are quite a few there.
Start here and work back. It's in reverse chronological order.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/94992570@N00/page5/
Enjoy.
XX
Fortunately, I remembered something that I have been planning to do for a while, update my flickr with pics from the trip.
So. Here it is. It's not all the pics because I can't be bothered doing that much stuff. I am almost sick of the entire concept of technology at this point. But there are quite a few there.
Start here and work back. It's in reverse chronological order.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/94992570@N00/page5/
Enjoy.
XX
Monday, 3 September 2012
The End. For The Time Being.
The thing about anything fun is that it is always going to end. This is not some pessimistic post-adventure blues. It is a fact, and it works in reverse too. The shit times pass along with the good and before you know it you are back in the place you started, trying to make the most of it. And in this case, I didn’t even notice it happening.
I left Ayr in late April and I arrived back a few days a go. The Bitch Jetlag has it’s claws deep in me. I can’t shift it. I snuck back into town after only telling one person about my return because I was dead broke and needed a lift from Glasgow Airport, my mother was both happy to hear about me coming home finally and happy to pick me up. The wee star she is.
4 months of doing very little. Something I am very good at and really enjoy. In the 4 months spent wandering around North America I got involved in some crazy shit, met some crazy people and ended up really broke two or three times, which led me to consider getting involved in something that may or may not have involved international drug smuggling. I will say that soup kitchens are not as bad as you think they are.
I fell in love a bunch of times with girls, scenery and food. I filled my trusty notebook with scribbles that I am positive meant something at the time, and when I finally decipher them might make a good story. One of the things I am happiest about when I look back over the last few months is that I managed not to lose that notebook. The whole thing would have been pointless if I had. I checked I had that before anything else each time I moved on.
So my life for the next while, in between working to save to leave again, I am working on turning my notes and any memories that weren’t washed away by liquor into some sort of coherent story that I would hope you will get to read at some point.
Any messages, cat photos, skypes or monies that you fine people sent my way throughout my trip meant more than I could possibly put into words right now. I am rarely lost for words. I have just written a chunk of the story this afternoon and my mind feels a bit like mush. So, whatever, you are all good people. I could have done with a few more dirty pictures being sent my way but, you know, whatever.
I left Ayr in late April and I arrived back a few days a go. The Bitch Jetlag has it’s claws deep in me. I can’t shift it. I snuck back into town after only telling one person about my return because I was dead broke and needed a lift from Glasgow Airport, my mother was both happy to hear about me coming home finally and happy to pick me up. The wee star she is.
4 months of doing very little. Something I am very good at and really enjoy. In the 4 months spent wandering around North America I got involved in some crazy shit, met some crazy people and ended up really broke two or three times, which led me to consider getting involved in something that may or may not have involved international drug smuggling. I will say that soup kitchens are not as bad as you think they are.
I fell in love a bunch of times with girls, scenery and food. I filled my trusty notebook with scribbles that I am positive meant something at the time, and when I finally decipher them might make a good story. One of the things I am happiest about when I look back over the last few months is that I managed not to lose that notebook. The whole thing would have been pointless if I had. I checked I had that before anything else each time I moved on.
So my life for the next while, in between working to save to leave again, I am working on turning my notes and any memories that weren’t washed away by liquor into some sort of coherent story that I would hope you will get to read at some point.
Any messages, cat photos, skypes or monies that you fine people sent my way throughout my trip meant more than I could possibly put into words right now. I am rarely lost for words. I have just written a chunk of the story this afternoon and my mind feels a bit like mush. So, whatever, you are all good people. I could have done with a few more dirty pictures being sent my way but, you know, whatever.
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