Monday, 20 December 2010

Blog before Sleep

I should be asleep. I woke up too early this morning and have been trying to doze off for at least some minutes. Alas my brain can't stop ticking over from one thought process to another and I feel obliged to let off some mental steam the only way I know how.

It starts like this.

It's kinda bizarre, when you think about it, how we as a society don't care all that much about what's real and what isn't. The West is so full of us undeserving, lazy, bored people, each with more wealth than Somalia that it's also full of persons who get more passionate about fictional escapades (like World of Warcraft) than real life happenings. Find the right topic; from the characters in Jane Eyre to the best way to beat Bowser; and you can keep just about anyone interested in something which ultimately makes no difference to our lives other than occupying a few more pointless minutes between cradle and grave.

It's a good thing too- because those folks carrying two X chromosomes seem to subsist largely on the puerile garbage shat out by pink-top magazine's like 'Hello'. The thing is, far from suggesting the readership of such publications are all vapid, shallow sacks of organs, I sort of understand that the point isn't to read about vital world affairs; it's to kill time and be mildly entertained. Nobody really gives a crap whether Sandy (24) from Brighton really gets off watching Oprah; chances are she's just a face they found whom they decided to staple a fictitious story to, and plaster with equally spurious labels about how true the whole thing is. What does wind me up is when this exercise in mislabelling fiction spills into other areas and ruins them in a tide of bullshit-stained print and journalistic bile.

A lot of this animosity stems from reading the (somewhat worrying) stories in Private Eye about how The Sun or OK! magazine have been forced to retract some story where they may have accidentally suggested that a much-loved CBeebies presenter occasionally shoots up on heroin or has visits from Filipino boys. Inevitably this apology gets less column inches than a piece on Posh's new knickers: and there's probably not a power on Earth that can stop them doing this again and again, until they impose the death penalty for libel (and even then, there's always the interns to take the flack). I'm convinced though, that some media can be saved from the sanity destroying overlap with this sort of publishing.

Take the X-Factor. Those among you who read the Mail probably already regard this show and its followers with the sort of disdain usually reserved for terrorists and John Prescott; and I wouldn't wholly blame you. Viewed from a 'neutral' ish standpoint the show in of itself isn't necessarily a bad idea if you can get over Louis Walsh being as attractive and likeable as a scrotum and Simon Cowell being more smug than a paedophile in a tent full of Boy Scouts. The concept isn't the let down: it's the overblown and vindictive assaults and tirades gleefully embarked on by the gossip magazines and the tabloid press. Suddenly a show about singing has gone all Jeremy Kyle: with contestants allegedly making racist or hate-fuelled comments about each other, the judges, the Queen, their hair, the Queen's hair etc etc. And so in a flurry of half-truths and headlines, the more opinionated audience is lost, and those who might enjoy the fascinating insight into public psychology offered by rich-kid Cowell instead join the ranks of sneering, jeering over-important media snobs in a campaign of hatred and derision (ironically).

So I have a suggestion. I think they should make 'reality' TV shows so utterly insanely interesting, different, unique and surreal that no tabloid or women's mag in the world could possibly benefit from reporting anything other than the truth. Why not kick I'm a Celebrity up a few notches? Let's have a show where the talentless excretion that is Piers Morgan gets put in a bear cage adjacent to Robbie Williams. Each cage has a very angry 1000lb grizzly and a karaoke machine set up to play 'Moonlight Shadow'; and each contestant must attempt to placate their angered ursine cagemates through song before they become too badly dismembered. The catch would be that the speakers would be swapped over- so Williams' adequate vocal work would be piped into Morgan's cage, and vice-versa. Here you'd win two fold from watching Morgan literally soil himself live on television, and seeing Robbie have his face mauled off.

Or resurrect Big Brother. Stuff six politicians in a house together and dose them up with an amount of LSD proportional to their spending claims over the past year. Then hurl in a few cleavers, a chainsaw, and maybe some angry hyenas for good measure. Last one surviving wins a job at Waitrose cleaning floors.

You could have a show about eating. People love food shows. Take a handful of highly annoying supermodels and force feed them each their own bodyweight in lard every two days. The aim would be to see how much weight they could put on in a month, before suffering heart failure. As a bonus, and to involve the public, there could be a phone-in vote to nominate one model every week who has to try and beat Kate Humble at being the fastest to totally devour a badger.

I think these could really pull in the ratings. Best of all, the papers will have no choice but to report on the truth. Who gives a shit if Anne Widdecombe and Gordon Brown exchanged some harsh words?? He just had his leg eaten by a hyena, she had her arms carved off, and both of them think the other is Jesus because they've had their eyeballs pumped full of acid.



Tuesday, 7 December 2010

Quick YouTube update. Lucky you!

My favourite git on YouTube has just sent me this heartwarming message. I guess we should all take heed:

"re-post it dont let the flame dieeeeee Youtube is deleting all accounts in December! 
Dear Youtube users, This is a real letter from our Youtube Service Team, Rober and Angela.We are putting this because there is too much fake accounts, and robotsin our Youtube community.In order to get rid of them, we are going to delete every account that did not repost this bulliten, or send this all to all of your friends in a message. 
BE WELL AWARE, that if you do not send this or repost it, your account will be deleted permanately. Sorry for the incovience! By the way we added some new features on Youtube, if you you reposted, and is gratified by us, Do not change the content inside, or else you will also get deleted. 
-Youtube Service Team"

Man- the YouTube service team really ought to learn to use a spell-checker. But still, good job I saw this message from "Rober and Angela": I'd be worried if they thought I was one of the "robotsin the Youtube community". But it's ok: I'll repost it and then it'll be "gratified by us". 

One final piece of video-website humour is a comment I received on a video where I'd deliberately misspelled a word in the title ('parkour' misspelled as 'parcore'), and subsequently explained this in the video description. Nevertheless my faith in literacy levels is clearly too high as I received the following comment:

"can u spell propelly" 

To which I naturally replied:

@joeschmo10155 Yes, it's "properly".

A further commentator on the video deserves credit for retorting with this to someone who clearly doesn't understand the concept of a spoof (which the video is):

"parody - noun. meaning an imitation of the style of a particular writer, artist, or genre with deliberate exaggeration for comic effect.

Now you know a new word! One day you may be able to take a joke.
(PS. I wrote this slowly to help you understand it)"

Kudos to that guy. Any stupid stories send 'em to me on Facebook (if you have me) or on here.


Friday, 3 December 2010

Thinking of a title before you've written anything is tricky

If you're of a foreign disposition, and don't happen to live under the regal wing of the UK monarchy, I'll let you in on a secret.

It's snowing in Britain.

If this is a hard concept, I have a diagram below which I prepared over several seconds.
Despite this having happened for the last several years, despite everyone in the country expecting it, and despite having had rather a  long time to prepare for it, the entire infrastructure of the country has done what it does best and totally imploded in a grid-locked mess of complacency and piss-poor planning. To be fair, there are the odd roads dotted around which don't require skidoos to navigate, and some of the trains are even arriving at stations (some within a day of their timetabled slot) but realistically any form of long-distance travel has now become fraught with frustration to the point where the word 'cancelled' loses all meaning. Even isolated as I am in a bubble containing Southampton University and the surrounding 3 miles, the effects are being felt as lectures are cancelled and bored students are prone to spontaneously bursting into snowball fights.

If you're expecting the usual slew of dry derision I'm afraid I'll be disappointing you on this front. Basically this is because since we were foetuses human beings have had a primal urge to go and roll around in snow, throw it at each other, build things, and generally act about half your actual age. And why shouldn't we? As long as we're tolerating not being able to achieve anything productive beyond churning out the occasional blag post, we may as well have the option open to put on 12 layers of clothes and prat around outside until our limbs fall off.

And of course, it's also fine that year-on-year the travel companies, airport operators, and particularly Network Rail remain strangely clueless to the impending cold spell until it comes crashing down on their hollow little heads like an avalanche of..... snow... I guess. New motto suggestion for them: "Because it never happens here!"®

Some things we also learned these last few weeks: in what scientists are calling a "meh" announcement, Prince Will and some other person are to be happily wed. Awww. For most of the country I think this comes as some slightly happy news. For the press, it's apparently more important than the moon exploding or life being found in Cliff Richard's undergarments, because they literally cannot stop talking about it. The Times for example, had a lovingly puke-worthy column by someone called Carol, who complained that she's 'already sick of hearing about it', which was of course followed by six articles in the paper's features section devoted to the happy couple. The Telegraph were similarly eager to lampshade their own relentless pursuit of the engagement, with another derisive column and a cartoon lampooning the press coverage, all nestled deep within 16 full pages, and 3 part-pages of stories about Will and Kate. Either these publications have suddenly found the ability to poke fun at themselves (and Hell will soon be ordering out for some heaters to melt all the ice) or their editors should probably be sent back to Kindergarten and re-taught how to read.

One more mention which I have to make to a beautifully constructed piece of commentary (19 Oct this year) from that 'newspaper' the Daily Mirror: "Others have made a small industry out of wrongly predicting the nuptials- we chose to got our facts right. Their formal engagement will be announced in early 2011". Isn't hindsight wonderful?

Also in the news: North Korea are Murderers, Sarah Palin: Still a Retard, Students in Britain Actually Protest with Good Cause, and Latin-American Twatsalad Finally Leaves X-Factor.

All in all, a good few weeks, despite the bruises and aches caused by mucking around in snow. Once it's all melted I'd like to place an advanced order to have Spring implemented two months early.

Merry Snowmas


Wednesday, 1 December 2010

A Russian Perspective

I've been trying to think of suitably insightful things to smother lovingly on my little blog, when today after browsing the Russian news site Pravda, I came across something I feel is so fantastically written it deserves to be reproduced in full. It sort of, matches the 'style' of this blag. Anyway, Mr Timothy Bancroft-Hinchley (who sounds very much like a man from Surrey) writes for the Russian publication, and has produced this literary masterpiece. I hope none of you are Tea Party members:

Spankin' Sarah Palin: A clown short of a circus

I have already called Sarah Palin a pith-headed bimbo from the back of beyond, in this column. I shall now go one step further. By attacking the democratically elected President of the United States of America at a sensitive time in her country's history, she shows the tact of a boorish drunkard bawling obscenities at a funeral.

If Sarah Palin is not some kind of a massive political joke in the USA, wheeled out to liven up the political scene from time to time with nonsensical and pastiche (one hopes) displays of sheer and utter ignorance, then it is worrying. It is even more so if anyone other than a manic depressive suffering from a chronic lack of lithium takes this...female...seriously.
Hockey Mum Sarah ex-Governess of Alaska is famous for her shrill shrieking style, displaying a pitifully shallow persona which one hopes is stage-managed to give the rest of the world a good chuckle at the Americans' ability and unique quality to make fun of themselves, a real-life female version of Homer Simpson-cum-Belching Barney at Mo's, giving us ever-more hilarious soundbites as she sets herself up as the dumbest woman on Earth.
Just occasionally, one encounters a bar-room idiot whose party piece is belching loudly before falling backwards off his stool, bouncing off the floor on his backside with a background provided by guffaws of laughter, yet who winks knowingly as he is carried out with his feet scraping along the ground and says "Don't worry son, most of it is an act".
The act. It reminds one of Marilyn Monroe putting on the act of the dumb blonde. But an act it was, a character projected by a shrewd, intelligent and charismatic woman with the ability to invent a persona. Sarah Palin, however, is the real-life thing. And it is becoming patently obvious that it isn't an act.
Sarah Palin, the one famous for ludicrous statements such as "I want to help clean up the state that is so sorry today of journalism. And I have a communications degree"; she is after all someone who "must have lived such a doggoned sheltered life", Sarah "We're all Arizonans now" Palin, cracking down on immigrants when the US of A is after all a country formed by...whom?
And now she turns not only against the fibre and backbone of her country, but against its democratically-elected President, accusing him of being incompetent for not stopping Wikileaks. Where was she and where was her GOP before and during the 9/11 attacks? She accuses President Obama of not taking "steps" to assure the leaks were not published. What "steps"?
Sinister Sarah Palin then goes on to insinuate that she is an advocate of cyber terrorism, questioning "Did we use all the cyber tools at our disposal to dismantle WikiLeaks?" Surely a more sensible question would have been why the material for the leaks was provided in the first place...and this has nothing to do with President Obama, but indeed speaks volumes about the State apparatus itself which goes beyond party politics. Her question also speaks volumes about her own inability to perform logical and strategic thinking.
President Obama after all knows the difference between North and South Korea, he knows that Hawaii is the largest US island and not Kodiak and he does not use the expression "refudiate".
If anything is a threat to the national security of the United States of America, it is this screaming, unrefined oaf with as much class as a searing release of flatulence followed by hysterical giggling at a state banquet. Is this what the people of the USA deserve?
To attack the President of the country at a time when the USA needs to close ranks and stand together to consolidate the enormous strides his intelligent and respectful approach has achieved in building bridges, when her party's period in government bombed them, Spankin' Sarah Palin comes across as a pitifully inadequate anachronism from the times of the Far West.
The United States of America has evolved. She has not.
Timothy Bancroft-Hinchey

Wednesday, 3 November 2010

Ironically, this took me three attempts to upload too. Thanks for improving my mood Blogger.

Since I seem to get the best praise for the prose I write whilst in a half awake state of consumate hatred for most everything, I figure now's a good time to once again spew social commentary onto my keyboard. If there's one thing worse than an unproductive day where you've achieved nothing except tying some fireworks together and playing a video-game you don't actually enjoy very much, it's having an unproductive day where you've achieved nothing except tying some fireworks together and playing a videogame you don't actually enjoy very much AND have had to deal with a total cock spanner of a window cleaner and a University server crash (presumably because their entire IT department is staffed by howler monkeys).

Fate seems to have a nice sense of humour too- since the ever-stress-relieving past time of squash is denied to me because there are no slots left today. I know there are 25,000 students at this Uni but I didn't realise they apparently all play squash on the same sodding day of the week.

As a result I'm feeling as charming and sociable as Jeffrey Dahmer on a Monday and would quite like to just sit the rest of the day out and wake up tomorrow. That probably sounds pathetic but when the weather outside is bleak and miserable, the news is doleful, you're hungry and don't have enough food in, and every attempt at doing productive activities is met by stubborn refusal from your arch nemesis Your Brain, it all mounts up to a festering deep rooted hatred that not even homicide can satisfy.

If you know what I'm talking about, try a blog. It doesn't make you feel better but at least you can inflict it on other people.

Like playing Justin Bieber really loudly.


Saturday, 9 October 2010

Mindlessly mulling once more

As I wait patiently for my literary award, I reason that strange, alliterative titles may bring me somewhat closer to fame and fortune! Or at least delay the beginning of this entry by a few lines.

Anyways. Something's dawned on me recently. I apologise in the first instance if any of this sounds preachy or familiar to those of you versed in the Gospel of Clarkson. My thought is this- not enough people value neutrality. 

There's a huge amount of highly polarised opinion out there at the moment on things like the papal visit to British shores, and other timeless matters like politics and whether hot or cold weather is best. But the fact is this- you, the reader, probably don't know enough about a subject to make such a firm opinion. It's true. You'll get into an argument about... immigration or abortion. And sure enough, you'll decide one way or the other. But the fact is, you probably don't know the full story. You will probably never know the full story. You won't know the facts, figures, statistics, stories, moral and ethical implications, or full background of whatever it is. 
And in any case- the chance of it making the slightest bit of difference what you care about free school lunches is minimal. There might be petitions or elections for you to decide, but I'm sure if you take a less fierce position, you'll be in a better position to make a good judgement. I suppose in a way it's a fairly scientific outlook on things- but it'll make you less contentious and more open to ideas. This is probably true for most of life's important decisions. Importantly it's also a brilliant way of keeping friends.
 Before you accuse me of hypocrisy, I'd venture to point out that opinionated as this blog might be, I've tried steering clear of the important things in life and focussed more on stupid unimportant targets like dressing up in costumes, shops, or at most plastic bag usage.

I reserve the right to hate on the lesser things in life.

Like buses.

And in that vein, I will briefly outline why given the chance I would be delighted to catapult every last Guildford bus into the sun, with staff all on board. I know I strive for anonymity here but knowing I go to Guildford once in a while isn't likely to help much- unless you plan on nuking me, in which case the internet is far more angry than I ever could have guessed.

Once upon a time there was a young boy who didn't go on buses much, and he regarded them with a childish awe that was only satiated by the occasional experience of going on an actual bus! [insert excitement]

Years passed, and what had been innocent pre-adolescent curiosity soon gave way to adolescent cynicism, and once college kicked in, utter seething boiling hatred.
The reason was the implementation of this particular mode of transport. I like to imagine how the conversation went between the inventor and his mate. Let's call them Clever Fred and Asshat Charlie.
"Hey!" Said Fred, "I've just had a splendid idea! You know that internal combustion engine thing? Why don't we make really big horseless carriages that lots of people could ride in?"
"Ooh" Said Charlie, dribbling slightly, "to what end my large-brained chum?"
"Why- there are many benefits. Road congestion would be eased, it might be cheaper overall for passengers, and if in 100 years time they find some horrible environmental side affect to petrol, it'll mitigate that problem too! I shall call them 'buses'"
"Why that's brilliant!" Charlie crowed, picking his nose casually, "We you could make bucketloads of money from this venture! But I've got some suggestions to help you out- IF you let me in on the idea"
Now Fred was a kind natured soul, and of course acquiesced to his mentally backward compatriot. "Certainly. What did you have in mind?"
"Well", Charlie began, "Why not coat the inside of every bus with various shades of brown and/or sick-green? EVERYONE likes sick-green!"
"er..." said Fred.
"AND! With a monopoly we could charge extortionate prices and make even MORE shedloads of cash!"
"But that sort of undermines..."
"I've got another great idea! Let's actively hire the most foul-tempered overweight sociopathic cock-rags to drive them! Patrons will adore the experience of being verbally abused for lack of correct change, bellowed at for being late (or early), and patronised to the point of murderous rage"
"In fact... on the subject of being late, let's make sure the buses never arrive within 5 minutes of the timetabled time. It'll be ever-such-fun to infuriate the everliving shit out of people because they won't know if they'll have to sprint like a Kenyan to get there on time or wait for three days for the bus to actually turn up! Finally, let's have incorrect timetables, 'real-time information' run by lobotomised gibbons, suspension made of bricks, seats padded with lead, poles coated in semen, and the fresh scent of the Wet Dog Scrotum® pumped throughout the cabin".

Fred was silent for a moment: "... I'm not sure you've really got the spirit of this idea"
"TOO LATE YOU SAID I COULD BE IN IT" screamed Charlie like an insane man with his balls in a vice, before running away giggling and crying to set up a company, which for the purposes of this story, we shall call 'Arriva'.

Years passed, and for reasons unknown to any man, Arriva flourished like a blossoming mould on a blueberry muffin, and spread its filthy grasp over this fair country, and whilst other travel companies managed to implement the Bus without metaphorically pissing all over their paying customers, Arriva continued to do so and continued to make money.

Until one day, Hell froze over, and every single Arriva bus and employee disappeared in a cloud of hatred, and I lived happily ever after.


Sunday, 11 July 2010


I've been doing the reasonable thing recently and working and enjoying the sun. Neither of these really allow for internet-based ramblings, hence the drying stream of material. Well, you survived last summer and I'm sure you'll do it again. I'll update sporadically. Honest.

Wednesday, 23 June 2010

The Big Huge Epic Advert Hating Rant Part 1

Inspired by being reintroduced to TV after my self-imposed televisual exile at University, I've decided to commemorate the stupidest adverts ever (that I can find) with a nice little blogging. Rather than do a countdown of the worst adverts ever (which was my original intention, but has been done many times) I'm going to pick out a few choice pieces of thick-headedness and give them my own coveted Neophlegm Patented Advert Award 2010®. Without further ado, let's see the winners!

The Duct-Tape and DVD award for Most Forced Movie Tie-In

We're probably used, by now, to the relentless capitalist empires of large firms throwing money at big Movie production companies to leisurely paste their logo all over the resulting film. Audi in I Robot and Iron Man, Sony in Terminator Salvation, iPods in.... everything. But while these at least bear a passing relation to the subject matter of the film, I think the forced-marriage of Twilight and Volvo leaves many, many questions unanswered:

The Microsoft Help Centre award for Useless Information

This category is dedicated to all those adverts which tell you absolutely bugger all about their product, under the pretence of being useful. I was tempted to award this to anything with a figure like "75% of Women prefer [Product]" but instead have to award this to any advert which includes the phrase "Up to 100%". There are plenty of these, but the one I've highlighted here is a particularly retarded Head and Shoulders advert which gives you the useful information that it can make you 'up to 100% flake free'. 

This tells you two useful things: That you may be anything UNDER 100% flake free (for example, 0% flake free, which presumably means your head is one enormous flake... yummy), and that it will never make you MORE than 100% flake free (which I imagine would mean it had an area effect which cleared other people's dandruff?). Anyway, video here if you need reminding how easy it is to baffle large groups of people with figures and crap French soundtracks.

The Mel Gibson Award for Barely Concealed Racism

There are a worrying amount of entrants in this category: of note are Sony's poorly thought out PSP ad, and this more obscure advert courtesy of an air-headed Spanish basketball team.

The runaway (pun intended) winner however, is this wonderfully bad-taste piece that appeared from Intel a few years ago, which is definitely not a concealed veil for white supremacy. Original piece on Gizmodo.

The High School Musical Award for most Cringe Inducing Soundtrack

If you're expecting a certain cereal advert for this section, I'd like you to consider that 'cringing' is not the same as 'contemplating murder'. Be patient.

This category though, I think is jointly won by two different stupid pieces of advertising garbage for two different reasons. The first winner is this pathetic attempt to appear 'cool' by one of those oh-so-trendy sofa companies DFS, who saw fit to pick out a bunch of photogenic but otherwise useless actors using a recruiting piece which probably ran "Wanted- Actors to mime horribly to utterly inappropriate soundtrack for Sofa store ad. Must have no appeal whatsoever, and dance moves that would make Michael Jackson cough up blood".

The second winner is something of a no-brainer, and doesn't really need any introduction, except to say that there probably aren't many people left who don't want to cause some amount of bodily harm to this guy.

Anyway- that does it for part 1. More to come in part 2 later this week. Keep your eyes open!


Thursday, 10 June 2010

Four sites to keep an eye on

Other than this one, of course, here are four sites I heartily recommend for those among you (presumably all of you) who get a kick out of internet funnyisms:

Clients from hell
-Real conversations between graphic designers/web designers etc. and less-than-intelligent clients

F*** My Life
-You surely must've heard of this. Ever had a day you wish'd you hadn't?

Sleep Talkin' Man
-Probably mentioned this one before. Real excerpts from the weirdest sleep-talker in history


Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Another one!

We've just had another Jack Wills catalogue delivered. Thanks very much to the previous tenants for the continued entertainment. Mwuhahah!

Tuesday, 1 June 2010

If you enjoy these rants

Check out some of Time's rants in this lovely article detailing the worst inventions ever.

Clickez Here.

I've started you arbitrarily in the middle because of the slating it gives Kanye West. Hooray!


Sunday, 30 May 2010

Hideous outfit? That'll be all your money please.

So I was sitting here, on teh interwebz, minding my own business and considering how my experiment to see if a human can subsist entirely on ice-cream was going, when suddenly! Good god! Holy Blood Pressure Batman! I realised I could be shooting my word-bullets at in a far more productive (?) use of wasted time. I also feel I owe some repentance for not having posted since forever, but I am doing this degree thing, and occasionally we get (totally unreasonably) asked to do some actual work, and exams etc etc. I've already written a sternly worded email to some MP or other about how I feel and I'm certain the entire existing academic system will bend to my finally-honed student opinion.

I'm in the extraordinarily fortunate position of having come into possession (at no cost to myself) of a catalogue. I think it's a catalogue anyway, it pitches itself as a "Summer Term Handbook".
Well anyway it has clothes in it, and prices, and is adorned with that brand name associated with every floppy haired public school ponce in Britain. It is, of course, a Jack Wills catalogue.

Or to give it the full title, Jack Wills University Outfitters Fabulously British Summer Term Handbook (I shit you not).

Or to give it its proper title, The Jack Wills Guide on How To Dress Like a Dickhole for Lots of Money.

I think my expectations of such a document were understandably low when I picked it up, but my GOD does it exceed all of them. I can't believe society tolerates people buying this kind of garish, hideous, clashing, overpriced turd instead of throwing them into a hideous lime-green polka dot insane asylum. Some of the skirts in this book look as though a square of fabric had dolly-mixture shat onto it and a few buttons attached. The models are so ridiculously overdressed they might've been shot with a wardrobe cannon, and the jumpers would make the most knit-happy Grandmother fall on her needles in shame. But the worst, the absolute WORST thing is the prices.

I will probably at some point put some pictures up from the catalogue to illustrate the insanely entertaining hobby of filling in the gap where the photographer cut the head off the model in the photo. For the meantime, I'll pick a few prime examples where I swear some joker buggered around with the printing and added some extra zeroes onto the prices.

Because the Jack Wills website was coded by an overkeen programmer who's just discovered Flash, it's sort of hard to put pictures up.... at any rate, imagine if you will a flowery, mid-thigh length dress with a bow on the front (strapless, if you really care). I guess a large number of asian orphans died making it because it's a staggering £300. THREE HUNDRED. You could buy a car for that. Or maybe (if you're of the feminine persuasion) a really fancy ball gown, but this is a bloody silly frock thing. You'd look classier in a tutu.

There's a jumper here, which is the kind of thing your dear, old, senile granny might give you for Christmas and which you'd lovingly bury deep in your wardrobe and hope never to see again. Mr Wills, however, thinks you'd pay £100 of your hard earned money for the privilege of dressing up like a tosser. There are far cheaper ways of destroying your social life and damaging everybody's eyesight. These two items (one, two), for example.

I can't possibly continue this to the end, but it goes on. There are bikinis made from dental floss for £50, socks for over £20, stupid camp-looking shirts that would make Boy George hack up blood for £35, and it's a good job it's clearly divided into men and women's clothes because, like emos, you can't tell by looking at them. There's a target market here which looks like people who hate owning money and don't have any mirrors. If you're one of those weird people who values currency you'd rightly laugh in the face of anyone cretinous enough to think this sort of stuff makes you look anything more than a pastel-shaded douchebag.

I think the people who see genuine attraction in this stuff probably get their well-off noses stuck in the front fifty pages for a good few hours and have lost all mental faculties by the time they begin to order things. This is because the first portion of this catalogue/well-photographed-freakshow is dedicated to basically soft-porn. Sure there's a couple of photos of people just wearing the clothes and looking like run-of-the-mill retards, but there's also a good number dedicated to barely (or not) concealed female toplessness, females cuddling, females in not-enough-clothes frolicking etc etc etc. Playboy probably ask them for ideas. Surely there's a time and a place for that sort of thing? I guess the lonelier guys out there might resort to a clothes catalogue for self gratification if it came to it but the whole affair looks awkward and pointless, like a hippo pole-dancing.

There's a lot more to be said for this frankly hilarious (and troubling) collection of pages which I might share in good time, but for now just remember that if you're ever tempted by this sort of thing there are perfectly decent, and cheap, plastic bags available in all manner of colours for you to poke your limbs and torso through.

And at the end of it, people will still be able to tell what sex you are.


Monday, 24 May 2010


Never before have I ventured into an exam with the feeling that I have nothing but the most tenuous grasp of a subject. Curse you statistical mechanics!!

Zero Punctuation will keep me happy until my untimely intellectual demise.

Monday, 10 May 2010

In a departure from the norm....

Despite there being plenty for me to throw my sarcasm at (in big, angry lumps) I fear anything I had to talk about, for instance the hanged hung parliament and all its traits, would be disappointingly predictable, and lead to what I call "McDonalds Syndrome" (expecting something to be pretty good, then feeling decidedly let-down once you've finished it).

Since you clearly care what I think, or you wouldn't bother reading this, I figure I'd change for a bit and outline what I've been doing with my ever-so-varied life. This isn't meant to come across as a bout of "I'm more interesting than you!", but then again if you feel that way I probably am, because I don't think things are particularly exciting atm.

What I've Been Doing:
Clearly, from my recent history, I haven't been posting much up here. This is partly because I find myself spending WAY too much time on my laptop and not enough time say, socialising, hosting BBQs or playing Laser Tag at silly hours. None of this is for lack of trying.

Yesterday I devoted my valuable time trying to help park around 10,000 cars for a country show using a hoard of eager ATC cadets. That turned out pretty well. Some of them even paid attention, and all avoided getting crushed by the public.

I'm also planning a holiday for summer, starting to revise for exams, maintain a website, play guitar once in a while, see my Girlfriend as often as I can, watch House, and try (in vain) to find people to play squash with. It's a full time occupation, being a student. The days when I wake up and find myself busy until I fall asleep are the best ones. Sitting alone in my room when no-one's feeling social is pretty soul-destroying. There's plenty of time for that when I've been forced out of this haven of socialising and intellectualism, and spat unceremoniously into the world of work (and expensive drinks).

What I've Been Watching.

That's one of the funniest videos I've seen in ages.

Also Iron Man 2. It's amazing. Go see it. Immediately.

What I've Been Listening To:
Aside from the reassuringly eloquent tones of Radio 4 and the Friday Night Comedy podcast relentlessly mocking the UK's politicians, I remain addicted to a fantastical album by a bunch of Americanians called Marianas Trench. It's called Masterpiece Theatre and it's possibly one of the greatest collections of music I've heard in living memory- from the uplifting, fun stuff, through the songs that make you feel all nostalgic, to the incredibly emotional, and the unbelievably catchy. So the guy is ugly, and the singing is an acquired taste, but I love it and thought some of you might fancy a new listening experience (unless you're the person who introduced this album to me. You know who you are!).

What I've Been Thinking About:
A lot of things you might expect: exams, how awesome Iron Man 2 was, how things taste better when they're cheaper, etc. etc. Err..... at the moment I'm thinking I really want to watch Crank. Might have to see if there are some web-versions floating about. If you're into awesome action and you like fellas like Stallone, Jason Statham, Mickey Rourke, Jet Li, and guest appearances from Arnie and Bruce Willis, (ie. if you have any form of vague interest in action films, at all, ever) you'll want to check out the Expendables which is coming out later this year!

Also, I've thought about Google ads- which will shortly be coming to this blog. Brace yourselves!

Been thinking about exams, which you probably don't care about...

Finally, I've been wondering, as any sane person would, about relationships. I like to think I rationalise things a lot. You might've guessed by now I like reasons for things (Greg House has the right idea). Some things continue to surprise me.
I don't know if any of you reading this might be in a similar situation, but I find it strange that I can be in a relation with a girl who's so... fantastically different to me, and it feel like the best thing in the world. I know opposites attract, but clearly there's some line there- I imagine a Hippy and Bill Gates wouldn't do too well in a relationship, and people with wildly differing world views would probably end up yelling at each other over dinner about why the other person's favoured political party are crap.

At any rate, I've just been feeling pretty lucky at the minute for finding someone who's ridiculously attractive, fun, happy, exciting and at the same time; different from me in only the right ways. It feels utterly perfect, without any sort of rational reasoning.

I'm grateful for that :)

Anyway.... I think I'm coming to the end of my introspective little jaunt. I will probably resume ranting in good time, but in the meantime, feel free to share some thoughts about your life (here or Facebook). It's always interesting.


Thursday, 6 May 2010

Election Special

Just wanted to briefly share this vitally important news with you on this election day:

Saturday, 24 April 2010

The tide of inevitability

I'm so, so glad that elections happen but once every four/five (ish) years. Normal conversation at University outside of a tight-knit circle of similarly mental physicists is becoming nearly impossible without dialogue inevitably turning to voting, politicians, and how super-trendy it has suddenly become to support the Lib Dems.

I realise in advance that a blog about not-talking about the election might come across as self-defeating. If you feel the urge to point out to me that this is true, I recommend you scribble down your sentiments on some paper, roll it into a tube, and insert it forcefully into your left eye. This is mainly because I don't care, but also because if you think about it, suggesting why people should stop talking about something necessarily involves mentioning the subject itself; and hell, if people were more thoughtful in the first place none of this would be required.

The thing that bothers me more than herpes bothering a hooker, is that people (specifically students) seem to think that their opinion of which political party is best, is somehow more sound than anyone else's. That, in of itself, is perfectly normal of any rational opinion we hold. What's not so normal is doing your absolute hardest to tell everyone around you what you think.

What, in the name of buggery, possesses people to puke political signage onto their front lawn? Huge garish splashes of blue and orange (and very rarely red!) are showered over the country as if the people responsible think "Hey! I know what'll swing a floating-voter's opinions into line with my own! A large and hideous sign with nothing more than a party name and a slogan on it!".

I can't believe this would ever work. I imagine if it did, it would appeal to someone who needs physical help picking their own nose and dribbles a lot. In other words, they've come up with a campaign idea to appeal purely to idiots and people who cave under peer-pressure from their neighbours.

Exactly the same is true of Facebook groups proclaiming loudly that you will/won't vote for someone/some party. What you've thus achieved is alienating all the people who's opinions differ from your own. That's not generally regarded as a good way of keeping friends. Sure it's good to 'encourage discussion', but again (no offence to anyone I know) your own opinion is about as likely to change my mind about which party to support as it is likely to convince me to sell all my belongings and live under a bridge for the rest of my life, eating pigeons. I certainly don't base my political orientation on my friends (except for any sort of subconscious connections) and I know full well that me ranting full on at someone else will probably not swing their views either. So why bother? The upshot is arguments, frustration, and strained relationships: or at the very least a constant niggling fear that a casual pub-chat will steer dangerously close to that impassable ravine of electoral discussion which leads to a 500m drop into a pool of misery.

Anyone who does 'swing' depending on what particular colour sign they spot on the way to the polling station should have their voting rights (and probably breeding rights) revoked and be demoted to working as some form of building material for the rest of their life.

*deep breath*

I know I'm being extreme here- but the point remains. I don't doubt that of the few people who read this fewer still will take anything away from it, but if there's the tiniest modicum of chance that this has somehow made sense to you, then please, PLEASE keep your political opinions to yourself, show your support by voting, and keep hold of your friends long after we've selected who the next berk to run the country will be.


Tuesday, 30 March 2010

Something I thought I'd share

I got a message this evening which I thought I'd share with you, the avid reader.

For some background, a certain nameless gentleman, who we shall henceforth refer to as "Mr. F. Feckless" requested my friendship over a Certain Popular Social Networking Site®, which I promptly turned down. This was due to a number of factors, chief among which is that my greatest memory of Mr F. was of sitting through lengthy arguments with him in school during which he tried to justify his gratuitous drug habit and his ability to treat women as objects.

Anyway today I was graced with this lovely reply. My name may have been edited slightly....

I have to say Sven, you're a little bit pathetic. Not that i give a shit that you blatantly ignored my friend request, but just thought you might have grown up a little since year 11. You were a big-headed knobend then, and you obviously still are.
Grow up, and grow a pair.

This gentlemen and ladies of the jury, is a wonderful demonstration of the kind of utter gent that F. truly is.

If any psychology students, or better yet psychologists, could shed any light on this peculiarly violent turn of behaviour please let me know. I think it's called "North Korea Syndrome".

Anyone got any similar bursts of blatant self-centered, self-absorbed, utterly shameless displays of total brainlessness, do share.


Wednesday, 24 March 2010

More Youtube hatin'

Just a quick update to say I've found a new buddy on YouTube to intelligently insult and then laugh at his pitiful attempts to string together a coherent reprisal. I've also found this piece of absolute GOLD. WATCH IT!

Thursday, 4 March 2010

Here we go again

I always seem to pick late nights when I'm in a slightly irritable mood to come on here and spill my typographical guts. It probably helps stimulate the part of my brain that craves spreading my less-than-ideal mood to the masses in whatever little way I can manage (seeing as how I don't have a death-metal band yet, I figure this is the next best thing).

Non-committal is pretty depressing, especially when it hits you in large doses (he says, at risk of upsetting his entire friend group). Fact is, individual cases are pretty reasonable (mostly) but when you get a veritable cascade of invitation turn-downs in the space of a few hours, and lose your wallet, it makes for a somewhat repressed dose of endorphins swilling around in one's grey-matter.

Three years ago I could've quite happily spent entire weeks by myself with only my own brain for company and occasional surreal conversation; but times move on and I quickly realised my brain was pretty malicious and probably had a sinister hidden vendetta which I'd best stay out of the way of.

Also, people can, on occasion, be good company.

I suppose what might actually help at this point is to wade headlong into a crowd of rowdy shoppers at some nondescript and utterly typical shopping-centre or other. I can picture it now... hordes of barely-literate, greasy, overweight mothers throwing their children around with one hand whilst furiously keeping hold of their supersized Coke with the other, all the while screaming furiously at little "Wayne" to "FUCKING SHUT UP" (pronunciation of the "t" in "shut" purely optional). That'd make me miss people significantly less.

Whilst this is a total, massive, sweeping generalisation (in the same way that all American people have double figure IQs, and all role-players need to grow up and get a life) it is true that I find large herds of people something of a drain. This probably makes me sound like an utter sociopath (which I may be) but since you've either never met me, or have met me and already realised this, I see no problem with stating the issue explicitly.

Dumb Britain, for those of you cultured enough to read Private Eye, is possibly the greatest example of human thick-headedness this side of climate-change deniers. Every issue it publicises some remarkable examples of thickery from the world of game shows.

Case in point:
Anne Robinson on Weakest Link: "The traditional wording of The Lord's Prayer asks that we be delivered from what?"
Contestant: "Our daily bread".

A mentally retarded Sea-Monkey could've put in a less ridiculous guess. Here's another one from the slightly more intellectual Mastermind:
John Humphrys: "Which insect gets its name from the ancient superstition that they crawled into people's ears while they were asleep?"
Contestant: "Ants".

Anyway, I do enjoy a good laugh at the expense of the less intellectually favoured- mostly because I really think intelligence is as much down to effort as anything else. Most people who are dumb, are dumb because they're lazy. That's a character flaw worth laughing at because God knows it's never going to be useful for anything else.

One other thing I'd like to mention tonight, which has little if anything to do with what I've just spoken about, is plastic bags.

Ok- now you've got over the jarring discontinuity in this narrative, I'll qualify my statement by saying that a MASSIVE social stigma has arisen regarding the use of plastic bags. Supermarkets are at each other's bulging capitalist throats over which one of them has forced the most customers away from the flimsy little carriers and onto more sustainable, and brown, re-usable bags.

I take issue with this for two reasons. Firstly, for a supermarket to say they have a good environmental record from the number of plastic bags saved, is a bit like a mass-murderer claiming rehabilitation by pointing out that he only severely injures people now, and has stopped actual killing. Plastic bags are thin, mostly totally pathetically weak, highly compressible, and mostly now bio-degradable items that I imagine sensibly contribute about as much to landful as used knitting needles and maybe dice. Think how little difference it makes whether or not there's a bag in amongst all the waste that gets hurled into the crushing jaws of the rubbish lorry. They're largely insignificant.

What IS significant is the inordinate amount of food packing thrust improperly onto the consumer when they buy some Jammie Dodgers or Lemon Slices. Trays, in bags, in boxes, in bigger boxes... It's too much, it's ugly, and it means you have to physically beat your way into some items using a crowbar. THAT is a real problem, and something worth boasting about if you sort it out.

My second huge issue is that, for all the hype about reusable thick chunky plastic bags or cloth bags, they make pretty crap bin-liners. Or temporary food storage units. Or ANYTHING other than a carrying device.

The humble plastic carrier is SO MUCH MORE than just a shopping receptacle. It's perfect for stuffing in little litter bins as liners, which can then be thrown away as a nice, whole, transportable unit. They're also great for keeping food in outside the back door when your fridge packs in. You simply don't want to be doing this kind of thing with a bag that costs actual money to replace. You don't prop doors open with Fabergé eggs....................... which is a ridiculously over-the-top comparison but I don't care. Not at this hour.

In conclusion class, we've learned today that a lot of people are very very stupid, and that plastic bags are amazing and you should feel no shame in using them when you go to Sainsburys next.

Finally, if anyone finds my wallet I will be their eternal friend and buy them a drink.


Friday, 12 February 2010

A thought from Facebook

It's not often you come across a real intellectual gem in the almost infinitely stupid and ill-conceived ramblings of facebook. We all know how much ignorance and stupidity is spat onto YouTube from the vapid minds of socially retarded internet users, but let's not underestimate the ability of your average facebookee to make a total, utter idiot of themselves by spilling their often racist, biggoted, irrational ideals all over their favourite group and/or Page.

This then, offers hope that there are people out there who aspire to be more than the common ignoramus.

"""Although I'd like to hear more global warming "skeptics" more vocally (1) acknowledge that there are severe climate problems that will need to be dealt with, even if they don't believe they're manmade (2) acknowledge renewable energy technologies are desirable even if they don't believe non-renewable energies are contributing to global warming (3) acknowledge that regulating pollution is desirable for many reasons, even if they don't believe global warming is one of them and (4) actually do more than just acknowledge these things but be active in these causes."""

Truer words were never spoken. I shan't publicise the author of the above, for fear of revealing personal information. But what he says is clearly true, and even Top Gear have shown some degree of recognition of this particular way of thinking. Let us not forget, that despite Herr Klarkson's continuous denial of climate change, Top Gear has on several occasions made realistic and sensible recommendations on saving petrol, on the viability of Hydrogen fuel cells, and cars which appear to be more 'green' than they actually are (case in point, Toyota Prius... which averaged a poor 45mpg when he took it for a road test). When they reviewed the Tesla, they didn't have a problem with the car, only the recharge time.

All things considered, people should, and therefore won't, take the view above. That even the most hardened, closed minded climate sceptics should be ready to acknowledge the undeniable benefits of renewable sources, and everything else written in that lovely little quote up there.

Reality? People continue to ignore it, do nothing, exist as sheep-like, ignorant entities and will in a few years, end up swimming to work when the sea level rise reaches London.

-Neop (Is buying shares in raft making companies)

Friday, 22 January 2010

Once more unto the breach...

*drum roll*

And so, once again, I turn my nimble fingers and Jack-Daniels afflicted brain to the task of blurting my innermost thoughts out in a flurry of metaphors, similes and barely-controlled fiery outbursts of sarcasm (which I feel I should be prescribed pills for).

Given my lengthy and wholly busy absence of this blag for the last... several weeks ish, I have many, many things which I feel I should talk about. What follows then, is a collection of whichever particular thoughts or feelings are sitting close enough to the forefront of my mind that I can recount them in enough coherent detail to warrant the effort.

If at any point you feel bored, go visit:

Without further distraction then, we'll get started. Please keep your hands and feet inside the webpage.

Conspiracy Theories- The undisputed (lizard) King

There is nothing, at all, wrong with a healthy dose of scepticism- it's an excellent character trait to have. It can however, lead to paranoia and utter weirdness. At the risk of sparking mass-debate (stop giggling you child) amongst the more 'liberal' thinkers among you, I shall refrain from delving in depth into any particularly contentious ideas floating around the tubes at the moment. This one, however, is so sensationally moronically stupid, it really makes you question your belief in natural selection favouring the fittest species- because I GUARANTEE there aren't any sea-monkeys that are this brain-dead:

The most famous, and most extreme example of lunacy to be dealt with here is that of a mister David "Crazy-reptile-guy" Icke. I hate to admit I hadn't heard of this guy till recently. I really feel as though I've missed out on some first class hilarity here. This is a brief overview of his views:

  • A reptillian species from a higher dimension controls humanity
  • For example, The Queen, is actually a giant lizard
  • He said he was the son of God
  • He is a healer sent to help the world
  • Pretty much every single conspiracy theory ever postulated is true.
  • This includes, according to his Facebook group, that "cancer is a fungus" and lots and lots about government cover-ups and UFOs.
I implore you to read the Wikipedia article on this guy, unless you have no sense of humour. It's genuinely laugh-out-loud hilarious. What's slightly worrying is that clearly some of the more mentally deficient socialogical discards actually listen to this lunatic.

Just for the record- if you ever, EVER, feel the urge to listen to this guy give a speech, I guarantee I'll give an equally compelling speech on my, er, deep rooted theories about how Grasshoppers are the dominant form of life on this planet and Gordon Brown is actually just a cardboard cuttout planted by the Italians. And I'll do it for a fraction of the price.

That he gets so many followers is testament to the glorious mental wellbeing of society. I wonder just how easy it is to come up with a half-formed, unsupported idea and then peddle it to a slavering, open mouthed and empty headed public to massive acclaim, controversy, and media coverage. Which is pretty much what Hollywood does, only they don't pretend it's real.



Or possibly:

I like that last one. I think I may write a book.

I leave this subject with a tantalising insight into the mind of, not only the writer of the xkcd webcomics, but also his fanbase:

Quacks, Hacks, and Bad Science

I'll keep this one short.
In my never ending quest to cram as much information into my head as I can without getting an aneurism, I've happened upon a fantastic piece of literature which seeks to take a baseball bat to the mailboxes of general ignorance (good.... God that was a crap metaphor. I'm REALLY sorry. I'm also not going to change it) surrounding medicine, health scares, and poor science journalism. It's called Bad Science, it's by Ben Goldacre, and if it's the last thing you do as a sane person, you should read it. Go look it up on amazon.

Then go find a massive online forum of Homeopathists and lay into them, like a snowplough through an orphanage.

I should add a caveat, that if you're the kind of closed-off, stuck-up, arrogant berk who bases their life view entirely on subjective views and is unable to comprehend "the bigger picture" or the value that science has to understand the everyday world, this book probably isn't for you. But then, quite honestly, you should probably not be reading this blog either. Your very presence is insulting. If you match any of the following descriptions:
  • Holding an opinion in the face of overwhelming counter-evidence
  • Hating people who do science because they're 'detached' or 'don't know what they're talking about'
  • Think you know about matters for which your entire knowledge comes from one news article in The Sun
  • Thinking you know better than an expert in a certain field
Then my advice to you, dear sir (or madam), is to turn off your computer right now and go and mow over your own face.

Your pathetic, childish and blatant mindlessness to common sense is a blight on the face of respectable society which was kind enough to shit you out in the first place.

If you've been affected by any of the issues raised in the above rant, please arrange to meet me personally and I'll help you out as a person by verbally running you into the floor.

Wow. Ok. Sorry, that was slightly more impassioned than I anticipated. What I'm trying to get across is how much I disdain people who claim to be 'open minded' by spectacularly disregarding science, and evidence, in favour of whatever they come up with. Science is not some horrible, outdated institution with no worldly ties left: it's just a way of looking at things which says "Does this work? If so, or even if not, why?". Scientists are nerdy, but they're not, by and large, out to peddle their own agenda.

Angry Atheists Association

Scientists do however, constitute one of the most outspoken and opinionated groups of people. This is sort of ironic, considering that in their own fields they're by and large open minded to every possible true/false, yes/no outcome to a study or experiment.

Plonk religion in front of them and sadly, in a few cases, you'll be confronted with a very different beasty.

I'm not going to tell you my religious standing- it's irrelevant. I'm going to try and do this from somewhere neutral. In which case I should probably introduce a second title:

.... and Clamourous Creationists

The two groups are obviously at totally opposite ends of the spectrum- and are both hair-tearingly annoying in their own unique ways, but just to infuriate anyone who fits into either category, I shall explain my hatred for them under this collective title.

Creationists, and all fundamental religious zealots, have taken it upon themselves to cram a grubby fist full of their views down your reluctant mouth before you can say "get out of my house you bastard". The Westborough Baptist Church of the US, the angry Irish christian terrorists, al-Qaeda and loud-mouthed creationists all share the common ground that they hold wildly strong views and cannot tolerate the fact that other people hold different opinions.

They heckle, bother, and in the worst cases blow up anyone they can in the hope that someday everyone will suddenly throw up their hands and go "Damn! You know what?? I think you're right! I've been so foolish! I shall instantly convert to [enter religion here] and blow up/heckle/picket anyone who stands in my way!". Clearly this works in some cases, but not overall. I mean, even the regular audience for Big Brother isn't that mentally malleable that they cave in to this 'pressure' from people.

So here's the suggestion: Hold on to your religious values. They're worth a lot. But unless someone asks, keep your vocal chords still, and your mouth shut.

The weird thing about everything I've said about these groups is that it's all equally applicable to outspoken atheists as well. Think about how often we've had Richard Dawkins smeared on our TV screens or newspapers like a nasty brown stain; his almost tangible ego radiating pomposity in every direction.

Again, I have nothing AGAINST atheism, or atheists, but most people do not want to see your opinion written in bold down the side of a bus. People want you to stay out of their life. So shut up about it. It's a shame that some otherwise reputable public figures spatter their blogs with atheistic gunge. And ATHEIST SOCIETIES? That sounds like a barrel of laughs doesn't it??

A: "So... I think there is no God. What a silly idea"
B: "Yup. Stupid idea. Who would believe such rubbish?"
A: "Stupid people. What idiots. We're so clever"
B: "Definitely. Everyone is stupid except us."
A: "Yes- especially religious people. How stupid can you get?"
B: "Very stupid. Totally stupid. Utterly stupid. Richard Dawkins"
A: "Humanism. Richard Dawkins. Evolution."
B: "Stupid. God. Daft. Rubbish. Science."

... ad nauseum

It's boring, pathetic drivel that we've all been exposed to before and isn't going to change anyone's views.

Both of the above should learn to TOLERATE people, and not speak unless spoken to. Act like a child, get treated like one.

Righto. As much as I intended to continue pouring my soul out on this keyboard I feel I've reached saturation point. I will therefore reserve my other thoughts and ponderances for later writing.

Much love and cynicism!


Monday, 11 January 2010


With end-of-semester (Shudders at americanism) exams approaching I'm not going to make much progress on the posting front. Expect an influx of ranting that I've been specially saving up come the end of January. It'll be worth the wait :)


Monday, 4 January 2010

Chemtrails? That's a new one.

My list of conspiracy theory craziness has grown by one:

This is a lovely little article, as it sums up everything that's wrong with the proponents of the theory without actually meaning too. My two pennies:

Proponents pose theory, scientists (government and independent) refute theory numerous times. Proponent says they are all 'part of conspiracy'. Net result: Proponents will never, ever, ever be able to pull themselves away from their pre-conceived views. Obviously this goes for all conspiracy theories: this one just happened to crop up.

It's a good job scientists aren't this closed minded or we'd have no notable technology at all. Many great discoveries are only due to individual suspension of disbelief- or belief! I pity the man who walks around ever corner, looks at every image, every advert, every aspect of his life as the unseen attempts by some evil government or corporation to purvey their evil gains on the population. It must be a sad existence!

-Neop: Realising the world is more boring than it appears, since 1989 :)