Autumnal Blues

As you might have noticed, assuming that you're living in the northern part of the Northern Hemisphere, it's Autumn. If you're in the southern hemisphere, it's Spring. Lucky you. If you're in the Caribbean or some other tropical island, well, you can fuck off.

There are lots of ways to tell that it's Autumn if the calendar isn't sufficient enough evidence for you.
The leaves on the trees are changing colour and soon they will start falling off, creating a hazard to pedestrians by concealing otherwise obvious lumps of dog faeces.
The nights are getting slightly longer and colder and you're thinking about folding away your shorts and t-shirts for another 9 months.
People that might otherwise have given you an understanding smile as you accidentally cut them off at the supermarket check out , are now verbally abusing you or punching you in the face. Probably both.

Or, discounting any of the perfectly good indicators above, Autumn is associated with a fresh batch of television programmes.
Presumably everyone involved in marketing television programmes know that you're going to be spending the next three quarters of the year sitting glumly on the couch in front of the TV awaiting whatever entertainment it can broadcast your way. You're like a hungry orphan awaiting your next bowl of gruel and TV is like the cruel Mr Bumble.

And therein lies the problem. There isn't anything fresh or tasty on television, but you're dependent on it. Everything that professes to be new, isn't. It's all the same old re-hash of marginally successful reality TV shows from the late 90s. And yet you sit there greedily lapping it up, asking for more. MORE?

So, in the spirit of cooperation and as a parting summery gift, I hereby offer the following ideas for television shows to any network that will take them.
And I encourage you to add any ideas of your own as a defiant up yours to winter and those in charge of programming wherever you are in the world.


Never Mind the Buzzsaws:
Simon Amstell returns as the host of the always hilarious Never Mind the Buzzcocks. The show is virtually unchanged from the previous 23 seasons. Personalities and figureheads of the music industry must answer musically themed questions while dodging the razor wit and cutting comments of the host.
However in season 24 they must also evade the razor sharp buzzsaws wielded by dalek like robots that bounce from one end of the studio to the other, spinning metallic discs of death to the fore.



Dancing With the Cars:
Dancing with the Stars but with an added edge. Giggle in excitement while you watch your favourite C to D grade celebrities, retired sports people and obscure politicians attempt to cross the busiest motorways of the world while performing classic dance routines. Delight in witnessing Rodney Hide perform an audacious foxtrot while struggling to traverse the width of the M25, avoiding juggernauts and speeding taxis with pirouettes and twirls and a healthy dose of fear.

Comic Hand Relief:
The title gives away the general gist of this one. Rather than having members of the public donate millions of pounds to worthy causes with only a few over scripted comic routines as reward, 2010 promises a more "interactive" experience. Highlights would include theMatch of the Day panel dispatched for donations of over £1200. Lucky members of the public would be able to gaze in to the eyes and perfect smile of Gary Linekar while Mark Lawrenson jerks….okay no. This one wont work.


The Fire:
In many ways, this series would be identical to HBO's critically acclaimed drama; "The Wire".
The series follows the ups and downs of the Baltimore Police Department in their daily crusade against crime, corruption and beuraucratic red tape. However, instead of setting up subtle wire taps to eavesdrop on the phone conversations on of drug gangs, they set them on fire instead.


Whose Line is it Anyway:
Okay so the title hasn't changed on this one, but the content has to an extent. Contestants must start each segment with a line of coke, with the winner of each round given a bonus hit of heroin. This provides added reward to the viewer when inevitably Colin Mockery performs an impression of a dinosaur, but ends up launching himself in to the audience trying to bite women while Clive Anderson sits at his desk helplessly rocking back and forth dribbling.
Fox, BBC, TVNZ, ITV? Anyone keen?

LOL

"Lol"

You know it. I know it. It's been around since the internet was a toddler. Presumably, it was invented to save people time, people that were too busy canvassing 13 year olds on chatrooms to indicate that they found something funny without writing "that was funny" or even "ha ha ha".
But, it's usage seems to have evolved, or devolved, to the point that it makes 90% of people that use it seem properly retarded.

Take these examples of facebook status updates and comments:

"Can anyone give me a lift tonight? lol"

"…Is back at work today lol"

I sure as fuck wouldn't let somebody get in to my car that's just laughed maniacally after requesting a lift. Why are you laughing? Do you want a lift or are you going to kill me?

Laughing out loud suggests something hilarious just happened. How often do you actually find something funny enough that it makes you physically laugh? Not smile, or giggle, or even guffaw, but actually laugh! Come on! Think about what you've written, and then apply it to the situation that you're writing about and see if it makes sense!

Did you really turn up at the office and burst in to hysterical laughter at the mere fact that you were sitting at your desk? Why? What the hell is funny about being at work? Are you a dentist, did you leave the nitrous oxide on? Probably fucking not!

Maybe if there were an equivalent "lol" for crying. "Sp" or "sobbing pathetically" might be more appropriate.

"Dylan Parish just turned up to work on a Monday morning with 1000 emails that need replying to - sp."

"Martyn is watching the tennis naked with a dressing gown belt tied around his neck - sp"

Some people use "LOL" to flirt. Why? Try that in a club or a supermarket.
Walk up to a good looking girl at the bar and say "Hi" and then laugh for three minutes. Loud laughter, in her face. See where that gets you. If she's still interested then run, because she's probably more mental than you are.

If you're writing "lol" then you'd better actually be laughing or you're just a liar! LOL.

Massive

We live on a fraction of a small planet called the Earth. Earth, is a small and relatively insignificant planet in our Solar System. The sun, our star, is a relatively insignificant star in our galaxy. In our relatively insignificant galaxy alone, there are at least 200 Billion stars. In the observable universe, there are at least 100 billion galaxies.

Our galaxy seems to be average in size, so we can assume that there are probably at least 2,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 stars in our observable universe. I don't know what that number is, but it's a lot and it takes a long time to write.

We know that planets are very common, so we can assume that for all of the stars, there are likely to be a number of planets.
Even if we said, on average, that there is only one planet per star, that's a of a lot of planets.
If we said conservatively, that only 1% of those planets is capable of fostering life, that would be a fuck of a lot of planets.
If we said that only a miniscule percentage of those planets had evolved life, that's still an incomprehensibly large number of planets in the universe that have at some point evolved life to a comparable level as life on Earth. Billions. There are probably billions of other "intelligent"species in our universe, pondering their existence as you read this. Looking for ways to further themselves and expand their knowledge.

We are insignificant as far as the universe is concerned, like a mere fraction of a piece of dandruff in an enormous ocean.

Armed with this knowledge, with this scale of our insignificance, what do we concern ourselves with? What else could capture our imagination, provide a suitable outlet for our energy and intellect?
Lets have a look shall we? http://www.stuff.co.nz/entertainment/celebrities/3241227/Anna-Paquins-love-life-No-comment

Well that's sorted then.

Top 5 things that should have happened this decade....but didn't

If humanity had delivered on the prevailing beliefs and assumptions of the last century, the first decade of the 21st century would have yielded affordable space travel, world peace and hovering skateboards.

Well we've reached the end of the "noughties" and I'm still being dictated to furstratingly by the laws of gravity.

So, in the spirit of reviewing the decade as most serious publications will be doing, I am starting a "Top 5" list. Not necessarily the top 5 things to have happened this decade, rather the top 5 things that should have happened.

This is a collaborative exercise so I need your feedback. Please post your ideas.

Ladies and Gentlemen "THE TOP 5 THINGS THAT SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED THIS DECADE……BUT DIDN'T"

Number 5 - January 12th 2005 - Michael Jackson releases a new single that reaches number 1 in the US, the UK and Mars, smashing all manner of previous records. Entitled "Buckets of Love" Jackson's new song featured guest vocals from a re-animated John Lennon and Billy the Cyborg (part man, part vaccum cleaner). David Hasselhof, president of Mars, invited Jackson and his new band to perform in front of an audience of dignatories from around the planet including a cloned version of Marilyn Monroe and a host of robotic monkeys. The event was held at his winter palace, built using remnants of the Berlin wall shipped from the Earth.

Okay your turn.

Climbing the Corporate Ladder

Given that this blog is supposed to be about how to do stuff, mostly, I reckon it's about time I dished out some advice. What better place to start than making something of your working life?

I'd reckon that a significant percentage of you are working for "the man" and not yourselves. If that's the case, a significant percentage of you probably work in an office or at least, some of your work is done in an office.

Some of you will be at the bottom of the corporate ladder, crawling around for scraps and being treated like an insignificant piece of stomach bile by your "superiors". You'll probably know others who've made it a fair way up the slippery rungs of corporate success by burying their noses well up the sphincters of middle management. They're now Senior Manager or Associate Head of and they make damn sure you know that because it says so in their email signature. They're enjoying the slightly larger salaries but they've brown nosed their way there, so while the view might look appealing, it smells a lot like shit.

But there must be another way to achieve your goals? At least, the goals set for you in a decidedly one way open dialogue with your HR rep?

Hard work? Sure, that would do it. But who can be bothered with that these days.

I will be starting a series of posts designed to improve your standing in the office of today. Heed my advice and you'll end up in charge of your department in no time.

Lesson One - Meetings:

1. Call a meeting and make sure that you invite the director of your department along with managers of other areas, except for your own. That's an important part of this plan.
2. You must first have taken a photograph of your manager's face. Then lured him/her in to a cupboard at which point hold chloroform over their mouths and hey presto, they're out cold. Lock the door. This is crucial, I can't stress it enough.
3. Next, print out (using a colour printer) the photo that you took of their face. Cut out some holes where the eyes are. Tie a piece of string to the paper, this will be used to fasten the "mask" to your face.
4. Attend the meeting and address everyone as if you are your manager. Be sure to mimic their voice as effectively as possible. If you're a chap and your manager is a woman, hold your testicles tightly to achieve the level of falseto required.
5. Announce that you are (your manager is) afraid that couldn't make the meeting but that you have some important news anyway.
6. Repeat the following: "It is with great sadness, that I must insist on leaving and recommend that take my place as manager of ." People will be a bit surprised at this, so spice it up a little. Perhaps..."You see, I have developed a rare and disturbing penchant for stealing office equipment and performing indecent acts with them on people's desks after hours"
7. Stifle your giggling as the looks of confusion give way to disgust and anger. Throw in a clincher or two such as " I am most sorry for having defecated on your keyboard and for having cleaned it with a flask of my dog's urine".
8. Finally, flee the scene making monkey noises.
9. Get rid of the mask, place a jar of dog's urine in your manager's desk (ideally pre-prepared) and enter the meeting room. If you have a hat, wear this to show that you definitely weren't in here before.
10. Ask everyone what the matter is and console your director.
11. He (or she) is bound to offer you the now vacant role.

From experience, I reckon you can probably use this technique up to four times in the same company before somebody suspects something. If somebody questions you, they have volunteered themselves as the next target.

In Richard Branson's autobiography, he may or may not have stated that he used this no fewer than 18 times in the past.

Don't forget to report back and let us know how you get on. Good luck.

Spawn

Today I want to talk to you about children. Not in a way that might see me flagged on an FBI "Red Alert" list, I just want to cover off some thoughts and observations I've made and share some ideas.
If you are easily offended, don't read on, maybe just have a little peek, but don't read it all.

Unnatural

Firstly, lets take a look at the fact that people love to gush about; the beauty of child birth. The glory of bringing a new life in to this world that you have crafted, with your genitals, and will love and nurture.
Well sorry to shatter your wonderful illusion, but it's not natural! It's fucking weird! Think about it people! What you have is two to three minutes of intimacy… followed by the fertilisation of what is effectively an egg inside the woman.
This "egg" gradually becomes a little foetus that feeds THROUGH A TUBE from it's host (you might say mother, I beg to differ) like a parasite. A tube for Christ's sake! I've seen stuff like that before, and it's usually in movies. Movies like Alien! There is a little thing, growing inside of you and feeding off you through a tube for 9 months! How the hell is that natural or beautiful? Amazing, yes. Beautiful, no!

It seems just as natural to me, to imagine that kids are grown like sea monkeys. Buy a little sachet of child powder from K-Mart, pop it in an aquariam, sprinkle some water on it and voila, sea children. No tubes required.

I wont get in to the pain of child birth, I haven't experienced it and probably never will (although who knows where science will take us) but I can appreciate that it probably hurts quite a fucking bit. And thank you mothers, but there's no need to explain what happens to your "control" in the weeks or months afterwards during polite dinner conversation.


Aren't your kids wonderful

It seems assumed by parents the globe over, that just because you have created a life that is now three years old and has the energy output of a small nuclear reactor, everyone else will think it wonderful too. Look at little Tarquin running up and down the aisles of the aeroplane, making car sounds as he goes, crashing in to your legs and dribbling on your shoes. How delightful, how clever. Fuck off! I can run up and down aisles too if I want, but I choose not to because it's annoying to everyone else.
I hate watching beaming parents, adoringly encouraging their offspring to be bloody nuisances and assuming that everyone else will be equally impressed and delighted. Well we're not! We want to watch the latest Dan Brown movie adaptation and drink our free alcohol in peace thank you.
Then, finally, after 300 circuits of the forward section of the plane, Tarquin geso back to mummy and cries for the next three hours. How wonderful.


Miniature Army

There are too many people in the world, we all know this, and yet the population keeps growing and growing. So why not adopt? But don't be silly about it, you don't want to be adopting somebody that isn't potty trained yet, or hasn't had all their jabs. Why not adopt a 28 year old qualified neuro-surgeon? You could be so proud when you talk about your little Alex at dinner parties. "Oh yes, my Alex saved a young girl the other day in a fifteen hour operation" that's something to gush about!

But why stop there? Why not adopt a whole gang of successful doctors? You'd be rich! Failing that, adopt thirty youths and train them as pick pockets, doing your bidding while you sit at home eating crisps and drinking beer. A bit like a modern day Fagin. Beautiful.

The end of civilisation!!!

I realised last night, while lying awake in a state of perpetual pre-sleep, that I hadn't updated my blog for a month and that people might be worried. I'm sorry, I've been trying to write a book. But don't worry, here is a piece of writing so brilliant you could call it a tiger…

It seems that you can't go more than a month or two without a news story pillaring the video game industry for corrupting children and transforming them from innocent, doe eyed angels in to vicious, immoral, prostitute murdering beasts. The statistics might not quite back this theory up, but lets not allow facts to get in the way of our self righteous anger!

Groups like Family First NZ campaigned to have Grand Theft Auto banned because it was a "killing simulator". Bob McCoskrie, moral outrage specialist, was vociferous in his criticism of a game that (if the player wanted to) allowed them to pick up a prostitute, have sex with them and then murder them and nick their money. One can only assume he'd researched this himself to make sure. This, of course, coming without a shred of hypocrisy from the man that demands the right for parents to be able to beat their children without fear of prosecution.

Anyway, this has all been done to death. I just wanted to introduce this weeks topic "Games Through the Ages". A critical look at the evolution of popular pass times and suggestions as to why children these days seem more interested in spending their lives in front of a television than eating mud. What's the point in this? There isn't one, I'm just really, really bored.

If you were a child of the 1870s, chances are your spare time (when not up chimneys or down mines) was spent playing with a hoop and a stick. A round piece of wood, and a fucking stick. Imagine Christmas morning now, in 2009 and little William opens his last, big present. you'd see the initial excitement give way to confusion before very quickly turning to unbridled fury. Good luck shifting him out the front door and encouraging him to push his hoop along the road with a twig. "Go on William, run. Run with your hoop" you'd call enthusiastically while William contemplated parenticide.

Parents lament the old days when children would run with gay abandon in the fresh air, making do with nature instead of getting progressively obese in the sole company of pixels. But what self respecting seven year old would subsitute a realistic portrayel of space exploration for a game of Chinese Whispers with Toby, Sebastian and Lucy from next door?
"Oh you said 'I like to ride two trucks' not 'I don't give two…" There are only so many times a child can find enjoyment from such banal activities, especially as they're forced in to socialising at school.

A quick browse of wikipedia shows other popular games such as hop-skotch, knuckle bones and Cowboys and Indians. Okay, so two of those probably assist with dexterity and balance in a round about way, but the other is a simulation of the genocide of a peaceful indigenous people. And yet it's looked back on quite fondly by many. In 100 years time, I bet parents wont be telling their kids to run along and play Concentration Camps.

With every new video game that involves something like guns or fighting, people start panicking that the moral fabric of society is about to implode in to an anarchistic wasteland of murderous children. Yet the evidence simply doesn't back this up.
Kids from the 80s will have played games like Asteroid. Yet how many children do you know that have been killed after their space ship was crushed by a giant rock? Fewer than five I bet!

As a child, I played games on an old Acorn Electron called "Kissing Cousins" and "Mineshaft" yet I've never even cast a glad eye towards a member of my own family let alone been crushed by a giant anvil 500 metres below the surface of the earth.

Having said all that, there is a possible danger in the popularity and evolution of video games. Singstar!
More and more children are being given the false impression that they can sing because their XBox told them they could. This is not true. The Xbox will not be brutally honest, if it was then nobody would buy it, so it lies and fills them with false hope and promise.
Coupled with the increasingly frustrating popularity of shows like American Idol or X-Factor, these deluded Singstar fanatics are being forced on to television and in to my ears. And I'm not happy.

I will happily make my own placard and march arm in arm with Bob McCorskrie as soon as he starts his campaign to ban kareoke style entertainment.
As soon as I've finished shooting the elderly and puppies anyway.