“I tell you, we are on earth to fart around and don’t let anybody tell you different”

April 12, 2007

kurt_vonnegut_jr_associated_press.jpg

Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday. So it goes.

Writer, artist, idealist, skeptic, satirist, humanist and master of deceptively simple prose in service of a mighty imagination.

He was much more eloquent than I am, so here he is:

Critics:
“Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae.”

Television:
“One of the few good things about modern times: If you die horribly on television, you will not have died in vain. You will have entertained us.”

“Thanks to TV and for the convenience of TV, you can only be one of two kinds of human beings, either a liberal or a conservative.”

Politics:
“There is a tragic flaw in our precious Constitution, and I don’t know what can be done to fix it. This is it: Only nut cases want to be president.”

Life:
“Life happens too fast for you ever to think about it. If you could just persuade people of this, but they insist on amassing information.”

On the bombing of Dresden, which he witnessed as a prisoner of war and which was central to his book ‘Slaughterhouse Five’:

“…only one person on the entire planet benefited from the raid, which must have cost tens of millions of dollars.The raid didn’t shorten the war by half a second … only one person benefited – not two or five or ten. Just one. … Me. I got three dollars for each person killed. Imagine that.”

He pretty much hit the nail on the head in revealing the cartoon in life. I’ll miss him.


Mindbending wrongness on a titanic scale II…

March 29, 2007

As is often the way with sequels- it’s bigger and worse.

It seems rock n’ roll isn’t the only genre to suffer co-optation at the hands of rank hypocrites who are the antithesis of everything it once stood for.

George Bush handler and right winger Karl Rove’s numerous previous tricks include using a false name to gain entry to the offices of Democrat candidate Alan Dixon, stealing headed notepaper and using it to disrupt his campaign as well as leaking the identity of a CIA agent in an attempt to discredit her husband for challenging his case for the war in Iraq.

Minor infractions compared to this latest abomination.

Hip-hop fans beware. This is off any Richter scale of wrongness I can bring to my befuddled mind.

Witness our ebullient oligarch embarrass himself and insult millions of music fans in a rap display as MC Rove at the Radio and Television Correspondents’ Association dinner.

I know there’s a degree of controversy surrounding the alleged relationship between rap music and gun culture but I didn’t think it went as far as outright warmongering.

(Thanks, I think, to Inez for the tip-off here).


We’d have got away with it too if it wasn’t for those meddling kids…

March 28, 2007

A nice little ‘David and Goliath’ story as Glaxo Smith Kline end up with a fine of NZ$217,000 after an experiment conducted by a couple of schoolgirls revealed that it’s ‘Ready to Drink Ribena’ contained no discernible trace of Vitamin C- belying its misleading claims that the ‘blackcurrants in Ribena have four times the Vitamin C of oranges.’

That may once have been the case but not after they’ve been reduced to their pigments and pounded with sugar. A stark illustration of the difference between theory and practice- the armies of the world contain enough manpower to rebuild innumerable hospitals and schools, it’s just that they’re not applied in that direction.

This might all seem a bit obvious- ‘Sugary soft drink in not as good for you as fruit juice shocker’- but the bit I like is the toe curling disingenuousness of the company. Its initial curt response was to tell the girls “It’s the blackcurrants that have it” and then hang up the phone. They’ve now been invited to visit GSK to be thanked for “bringing it to our attention”. I’ll bet- presumably Ribena will be served. I’d love to hear what they were saying behind closed doors. The nice irony is that the girls initially conducted the experiment to show that Ribena contained more Vitamin C than its competitors.

What next? Maybe we should include the maths on replacing Trident in the GCSE paper to get a realistic costing.


mind bending wrongness on a titanic scale…

March 8, 2007

Bankers (in every sense of the word) get standing ovation for butchery of U2’s ‘one’. Crassness squared.

Rock and roll is dead. Every positive creative impulse we once had has been co-opted. (This winds me up and I don’t even particularly like U2, or this song. God alone knows what a Hendrix cover here would do to my already fragile grip on a faith in any future for humankind).

It’s over. They won and all we can do is sit and throw our toys around a postmodern cot and give them money.

Or we can laugh like drains at the most fatuous expression of ANYTHING I’ve seen since a drunk guy called me all of the monosyllabic swearwords he could slur together and threatened to kill me for not giving him more to drink a week ago.
What are these guys on (and where can I get some)?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qAuqq1LFnU


aren’t we clever…

February 1, 2007

ujackblog.jpg

It’s O.K everyone.

We can all breathe a successful multi-cultural sigh of relief.

Shilpa won Celebrity Big Brother so racism no longer exists in Britain.

We’ve been purged of this insidious social evil in a cleansing firestorm of media hypocrisy. Even The Sun can agree that ‘Towelheads’, ‘Pakis’, ‘Yids’ and ‘Chav Scum’ (the best token I’ve seen in ages) are “All British”.

Hooray for us!

All that we need to be forever rid of this iniquitous lack of tolerance is for the public hanging of Jade Goody to be disseminated worldwide by mobile phone video. (Bullying is, after all, intolerable and anyone who makes a scapegoat of someone else deserves nothing less).

Many thanks to Channel Four for fulfilling it’s public service remit by holding a mirror up to society and allowing us to impale the vampire of racism on the trusty tabloid stake.

We can all give ourselves a great big pat on the back and move on now that we’ve dealt with that little problem. (Not sure about the people next door, though- I think they might be recent immigrants).


aimless meanderings of a bemused mind…

December 29, 2006

muscledrink.jpg

Nothing like a bit of house cleaning to make the mind wonder aimlessly like a Tory spin doctor at a race relations conference.

Mine was sufficiently empty to wonder whether there’s any substantive difference between bathroom and kitchen cleaner- apart from the colour of the bottle and a bit of extraneous perfume. Is there any real need for these differences, beyond the obvious one of getting us to buy two bottles of the stuff instead of one?

I took a quick look at my bottles of Mr.Muscle. (‘Loves the jobs you hate’, apparently. Does it really? I’d like to see how it gets on with marking a Himalayan size pile of sub-literate, illegible, stress-ridden exam scripts.)

The labels weren’t much help. Both contain ‘Less than 5% non-ionic surfactants’. This, helpfully or ominously depending on your point of view, is ‘Amongst Other Ingredients’- (Agent Orange? Plutonium?)

Non-ionic surfactants are presumably bad for human beings, fluffly animals and the environment (the big planet shaped one, that is, not the small house shaped one)-otherwise their presence wouldn’t be marked by a footnote saying ‘Less than 5%’ in tiny script on the back of the bottle.

There would be a great big star on the front with expensively designed lettering glorying in the improved product- ‘NOW WITH ADDED SURFACTANTS’.

The bit about which they seem obliged to inform us is EDTA- or ethylenediaminetetraacetic acid. I’m still none the wiser, although I prefer the colour of the bathroom bottle.

Still, if I was worried about something I spray all over my house containing it, I needn’t have been. Apparently the manufacturers of soft drinks include it to reduce the levels of carcinogenic benzene. Cheers!


cynical blog hijacked by viral marketing campaign…

December 19, 2006

 book_cover.jpg

A pause for an uncharcteristic commercial break.

Prompting the postmodern equivalent of an English essay at school for a book I haven’t read, friend and web wiz Darren has asked that I give a quick plug to ‘Do Sheep Shrink In the Rain’. It’s a book of compiled questions and answers from ‘ask anything’ text service 82ASK, for whom he does alot of work.

Normally this would be met with a stream of expletives and storm of junk mail but I’ve found 82ASk to be one of the more consistently efficient service I’ve used in the last year- and that includes various prohibitively expensive supposed parts of the national infrastructure.

Therefore, despite some doubts that they’re dumbing down society by ensuring that we never need carry any information in our heads again, I’ll give it a plug.

If it’s as well put together as their answer service I’m sure it’ll be an entertaining read for people who like that sort of esoterica (which I do).

It’s published by Virgin- who should really be doing this instead of me but have obviously adopted the time honoured tradition of not promoting something unless it’s already going to sell by the bucketload.

At least I know what to get Darren for a last minute christmas present.

Commercial break over- sniping and snarling to resume soon.


saturday afternoon Lennonism…

December 9, 2006

An idle thought on the back of yesterday being the anniversary of John Lennon’s death and the (surely entirely coincidental) release of the documentary ‘The U.S vs John Lennon’.

I frequently hear/read about the “assassination” of Lennon, (like the Kennedys or Martin Luther King) as opposed to the ‘murder’ of, say, Sam Cooke or Marvin Gaye-(other examples elude me at the moment).

Is this difference in nomenclature down to Lennon’s political activities-(small ‘p’). Marvin Gaye also made some political comments (‘What’s Going On, etc) but seemed to drift away from this later on in his recording career (although so did Lennon).

Or is it a ‘genre’ issue- ‘rock’ vs ‘soul’, with all the racial and expressive baggage that applies?

On the other hand- Lennon’s murder wasn’t a ‘crime of passion’ as with the others- (jealous husband in Cooke’s case, angry father for Gaye) but a more clearly premeditated act.

I suppose what I’m wondering is whether the application of the term ‘assassination’ as opposed to murder is predicated on something in Lennon or something in Chapman.

And what would we call it if someone shot McCartney?


dem ole not in my backyard Blues…

November 9, 2006

torylogo1.jpg

‘I’m not a racist’. Like death, taxes, vein twitchingly annoying exhibtionists on Big Brother and mindless drivel at number one in the charts for Christmas, it’s one of life’s certainties that whenever anyone says ‘I’m not a racist’, they’re about to follow it up by saying something racist.

So seems to be the case for recently suspended Tory councillor, and former parliamentary candidate, Ellenor Bland after she was reported to the Council for Racial Equality for forwarding on from her e-mail account a racist “Illegal Immigrants Poem” written in pidgin English describing the luxurious life of a migrant living on welfare.

Bland claims that her husband, also a Tory councillor, forwarded the poem.

That’s alright then.

She also said that the leak was “an infringement of my life” and that she was “finding all this rather tiresome”.

(Beautifully expressed. Not just an infringement of her privacy but her entire life. With a sublime grasp of rhetoric, hyperbole is neatly followed by understatement. A fuss over an elected official forwarding on a racist message is a storm in a teacup and her suspension is not really distressing just, “rather tiresome”)

She may have a point. In this PC world gone mad, we can’t mock fat people for being fat and it’s clearly wrong to discriminate on the grounds of skin colour- why should racists be excluded from this culture of sensitivity towards others.

It’s one of the last bastions of taboo and begs the question- how racist does someone have to be before they’ll put their hands up and say, ‘I’m a racist’?

It’s simultaneously a success story and a dismal failure that, as a society, we haven’t managed to eradicate racist behaviour on the part of elected officers of the major political parties but we have, at least, managed to make them deny that their actions are racist. We’ve made a pariah out of the concept without addressing the actions.

Just as the re-distribution of wealth should universally start with ‘people who are that bit richer than me’, racism isn’t racism unless it’s expressed in terms ‘that little bit more vehement than the ones I would use’.

What’s next, “I’m not a paedophile, I just like to have sex with children”?

The councillor’s defence, in this case, seems to be two-fold. On the one hand, says Bland, the message has nothing to do with her political career. Fair enough. Racism, as we all know, has no place in politics and should be kept in the police force where it enjoys a fine and well-established heritage.

On the other hand, she claims not to have written the poem.

This seems to be a tacit admission that it is, in fact, racist, particularly when followed up by another old chestnut, “And we have friends who are Asian”. (It’s a well-known fact that anyone who is “not a racist” also “has friends” from whichever minority group they are currently decrying).

Not only that but the multicultural Blands “actually have German in-laws”.

Marvellous- not potential, or imaginary, in-laws from another country but honest-to-goodness “actual” ones.

There is, of course, the argument that ‘if you live by the sword you die by the sword’- (and the Blands are obviously partial to a bit of fencing) but you’d have to be “churlish” to use that, and I’m not churlish- honest. I’m just a bit surly and pedantic. It’s not the same thing at all.

Sullen pedantry is a perfectly valid response to the proliferation of things to comment upon in this world. There are too many of them arriving on our platforms for debate and they’re crowding out the traditional talking points that have stood the test of time and are part of a long history of conversation. ‘Churlishness’ is, however, completely unacceptable and I would never stoop so low.

Unsurprisingly the Conservative high command have distanced themselves from this hot potato faster than you can say “I don’t mind some of them but…”. Shadow solicitor general Dominic Grieve said that the poem “has an underlying unpleasantness”. (I’d have gone for ‘overriding’ myself but you can’t have everything).

Still, Mrs.Bland can console herself with possibility of another position in the party if her role as a councillor proves unworkable.

Bernard Jenkin has just been removed from his role overseeing A-list candidates. Ali Miraj, who failed to be selected for a seat said that Mr. Jenkin, despite wishing him luck, said that he would be “shocked if a white male candidate was not selected”. Mr Miraj added, “…he was merely reflecting the reality on the ground, and he wasn’t the only one who said that to me”.

Mr.Miraj was also apparently told he’d have a better chance of becoming an MP in the Labour Party. If the Blands are anything to go by, he probably would. Given Labour’s headlong charge to the right he might want to think about it. Either that or start wearing a hooded top- I hear they’re all the rage with upper echelons of the Tory party.

I don’t want to appear churlish but it looks as if the all-new ‘Cuddly Conservatives’ have got their work cut out for them.


Unlucky…

October 16, 2006

But REALLY unlucky. This speaks for itself.