During my years at University I was reminded of my stance on the world on an almost daily basis. Not in the way you might think, as in my sexual preferences or political standpoint. No, I was reminded that I was in fact much older than my age might lead you to believe.
It's a rather surreal moment, being faced with the offer to see Messers Example and Dizzee in concert, and having to really think (who are these chaps?). I make no bones about the fact that I am absolutely useless when it comes to naming, or even recognizing the artists of today. Ask me to name a song and I will simply identify it as "that song from the Internet Explorer 9 advert." Useless. (Fyi, it's by Alex Clare, called Too Close. Epic song.)
My tastes don't just stop with music either .Clubs confuse and anger me to the point where I simply have to leave. Of course I respect people's lifestyles and indeed wish them the best of times in their social lives, but I don't see the joy of queuing to get into a club, yelling all night, potentially getting into a fight and being rejected for either not wearing the right shirt or not making enough money.
Honestly, the only thing that would give me away for my age is my insatiable love for all things electric/techy, and the advancements of the scientific and engineering worlds, to which I like to keep my ear firmly to the ground, and the ease in which I can adopt them. I know some people might be yelling at the screen now, "I AM FORTY AND HAVE NO PROBLEM PLAYING MY DVD's!", but the fact of the matter is that as technology moves on you will be left behind. And it something which scares me to my core. The moment I step into an electronics outlet and don't understand half of the jargon will be the moment I purchase proper slippers and get the kids to buy my things.
And I feel it already, music has moved on without me, to their One Directions and Pharells.
Monday, 9 June 2014
Tuesday, 28 August 2012
Rappers Are All Pussies Really...Country Music Stars Are The Hard Men
Music today is a never ending minefield of material so shockingly bad it makes me ill, intertwined with lyrics so profoundly out there that even Freddie Mercury couldn't have thought them up on one of his "trips" while balls deep in a man.
Now it's no surprise to a great many of you reading this that I am considered by both my University group and those friends I spend time with at home, to be likened to an old man. My music tastes are what you'd call "retro" and my opinion of the younger generation today is simply so low you'd struggle to find even a Jamaican to limbo under it. But the fact of the matter is simply this...Even the music being produced by some terrible artists today has the backing from "younger hipsters" to be banned.
An example I'd love to give, and therefore shall, is Lady GaGa. Here is a woman who is talented, there is no denying that, and yet she feels she has to sing about "bluffing her muffins with a love glue gunning." What the hell is a love glue?! And how the hell do you bluff a muffin?! The only answer I can come up with to those questions is that love glue is spunk and bluffing a muffin is covering up some hideous mark or disease on a body which resembles a muffin...In essence then, what I've proved is that Lady GaGa is a man as she is bluffing her muffin (she has a penis) and likes to go gunning her love glue all over the place. I read once that she was the female version of Shakespeare. I dread to think that in 500 years our descendants won't be trying to find the intricate subplots in Julius Caesar and A Midsummer Nights Dream, but will be trying to decypher and find hidden meaning to Telephone and Love Game.
Another example are the men of music today, as you have two kinds. One set are made up of initials, sounds and "-izzles" and inncessentaly talk about their never ending quest to get into the pants of the opposite sex. Flo-Rida, J-Z, 2Pac, Biggie, Ice Cube, 50 Cent, just to name a few. The songs produced by the majority of these "artists" are simply hideous to actually listen to. Of course, the majority of their audience are too idiotic to actually decypher the meaning of the words in a sentence as it's said too fast, and therefore like the the beat and when they hear the word "ho". Or they're too whacked out on cough syrup and crack. The lyrical prowess of this stuff also astounds me. The rappers talk about "shawties, popping caps, apple bottom jeans and gettin low on mah bitch." I can only understand, then, that they're talking about midgets, hats, jeans and limbo contests. Standard
The other side to the man in music is the other end of the spectrum. The Maroon 5. The James Blunt. The Daniel Morrison. I speak of course, of the pussy. The man who strums a guitar, pulls his testicles back up inside him and begins to cry as he strums about the love he'll never know because he never spoke to her, but even though she was sat next to him on a busy train with a fat man on the otherside of him sweating over him, he knows she was the one. I mean COME ON, GROW SOME BALLS! Or pull the ones you have from inside you, jeeez. If you want to feel depressed and emotional then listen to these, but I warn you, listen to the whole album and you'll end up face down on the beach somewhere.
Oh no, I've forgotten other bands! Like Panic at the Disco and "that lot." No, of course I haven't. This new "screamo" phase of bands I don't really consider music.
Now it's no surprise to a great many of you reading this that I am considered by both my University group and those friends I spend time with at home, to be likened to an old man. My music tastes are what you'd call "retro" and my opinion of the younger generation today is simply so low you'd struggle to find even a Jamaican to limbo under it. But the fact of the matter is simply this...Even the music being produced by some terrible artists today has the backing from "younger hipsters" to be banned.
An example I'd love to give, and therefore shall, is Lady GaGa. Here is a woman who is talented, there is no denying that, and yet she feels she has to sing about "bluffing her muffins with a love glue gunning." What the hell is a love glue?! And how the hell do you bluff a muffin?! The only answer I can come up with to those questions is that love glue is spunk and bluffing a muffin is covering up some hideous mark or disease on a body which resembles a muffin...In essence then, what I've proved is that Lady GaGa is a man as she is bluffing her muffin (she has a penis) and likes to go gunning her love glue all over the place. I read once that she was the female version of Shakespeare. I dread to think that in 500 years our descendants won't be trying to find the intricate subplots in Julius Caesar and A Midsummer Nights Dream, but will be trying to decypher and find hidden meaning to Telephone and Love Game.
Another example are the men of music today, as you have two kinds. One set are made up of initials, sounds and "-izzles" and inncessentaly talk about their never ending quest to get into the pants of the opposite sex. Flo-Rida, J-Z, 2Pac, Biggie, Ice Cube, 50 Cent, just to name a few. The songs produced by the majority of these "artists" are simply hideous to actually listen to. Of course, the majority of their audience are too idiotic to actually decypher the meaning of the words in a sentence as it's said too fast, and therefore like the the beat and when they hear the word "ho". Or they're too whacked out on cough syrup and crack. The lyrical prowess of this stuff also astounds me. The rappers talk about "shawties, popping caps, apple bottom jeans and gettin low on mah bitch." I can only understand, then, that they're talking about midgets, hats, jeans and limbo contests. Standard
The other side to the man in music is the other end of the spectrum. The Maroon 5. The James Blunt. The Daniel Morrison. I speak of course, of the pussy. The man who strums a guitar, pulls his testicles back up inside him and begins to cry as he strums about the love he'll never know because he never spoke to her, but even though she was sat next to him on a busy train with a fat man on the otherside of him sweating over him, he knows she was the one. I mean COME ON, GROW SOME BALLS! Or pull the ones you have from inside you, jeeez. If you want to feel depressed and emotional then listen to these, but I warn you, listen to the whole album and you'll end up face down on the beach somewhere.
Oh no, I've forgotten other bands! Like Panic at the Disco and "that lot." No, of course I haven't. This new "screamo" phase of bands I don't really consider music.
Embarrassed For My Fellow Students
ORIGINALLY WRITTEN MARCH 2011
So the entire British Isles is griding to a halt again, not due to bird flu or swine flu or anything to do with the EU (for once). What's bringing the entire country to it's knees is the student population complaining about fees and money. Again. It seems that whenever anything threatens the status quo of student-suburbia then students decide to have a march and "campaign". What a load of bollocks, quite frankly.
I was asked to attend the march, urged to show my hatred of the Conservative party and stand for the rights of the peasants. And I said no...for two very good reasons. The first and foremost reason is that I actually agree with the increase, it'll do this country a damn load of good. The second reason? I don't want to waste my money travelling up to London to go walking with a bunch of stoked-up, Guardian-reading, Jack Wills-sporting idiots. And you know what? My god am I proud of myself for not going!
It seems that on this march, the sum total of everything that was acheieved was a few things were thrown around, a few funny signs made it onto the news and the NUS president made a statement. All in all it was as productive as a student house party, with drugs and collateral damage. A piss-poor excuse for a demonstration. As a student I am disappointed with my fellow students for not only attending but also for their lack of enthusiasm. In a poll taken there, 50% of students said they were there simply to get a day out of lectures, and didn't really care. That's more like it!
So, why do I not care about something which could shape the future of this once great nation? Well, there are about 1,500,000 students in Britain, not including Ireland obviously, and the majority of those don't need to be here. I believe that University is becoming a somewhat done deal when you leave school, with kids either becoming engaged, pregnant or off to Uni. This does seem like the standard thing to do now, and it makes as much sense as a Panda with a hard hat.
So many students go to Uni with the aim of studying a lacklustre degree, such as Media, Sociology or Film, and is there any point to this anymore? You've got more chance of Tyra Banks offering to give you a reacharound. Don't get me wrong, those who study the above with a direct desire to go into the Film industry as a technical assistant, or those who want to teach or study media as a more advance area, then they are perfect for them. Those who simply rock up to UCAS day at school and casually mention that they watch TV so it can be easy for them to study media, are making a mockery of our education system.
The University system needs to be culled like the rights of people within the British Isles. What's wrong with getting into plumbing, metalwork, automotive repair, even electronic repairs. It would be a two pronged attack: Getting the Uni's less crowded and more respected and also training young Brits to potentially start a franchise, get some skills and provide a fantastic service to their local community.
The younger generations of Britain can be great, so show some faith in them and give them a kick up the backside!
So the entire British Isles is griding to a halt again, not due to bird flu or swine flu or anything to do with the EU (for once). What's bringing the entire country to it's knees is the student population complaining about fees and money. Again. It seems that whenever anything threatens the status quo of student-suburbia then students decide to have a march and "campaign". What a load of bollocks, quite frankly.
I was asked to attend the march, urged to show my hatred of the Conservative party and stand for the rights of the peasants. And I said no...for two very good reasons. The first and foremost reason is that I actually agree with the increase, it'll do this country a damn load of good. The second reason? I don't want to waste my money travelling up to London to go walking with a bunch of stoked-up, Guardian-reading, Jack Wills-sporting idiots. And you know what? My god am I proud of myself for not going!
It seems that on this march, the sum total of everything that was acheieved was a few things were thrown around, a few funny signs made it onto the news and the NUS president made a statement. All in all it was as productive as a student house party, with drugs and collateral damage. A piss-poor excuse for a demonstration. As a student I am disappointed with my fellow students for not only attending but also for their lack of enthusiasm. In a poll taken there, 50% of students said they were there simply to get a day out of lectures, and didn't really care. That's more like it!
So, why do I not care about something which could shape the future of this once great nation? Well, there are about 1,500,000 students in Britain, not including Ireland obviously, and the majority of those don't need to be here. I believe that University is becoming a somewhat done deal when you leave school, with kids either becoming engaged, pregnant or off to Uni. This does seem like the standard thing to do now, and it makes as much sense as a Panda with a hard hat.
So many students go to Uni with the aim of studying a lacklustre degree, such as Media, Sociology or Film, and is there any point to this anymore? You've got more chance of Tyra Banks offering to give you a reacharound. Don't get me wrong, those who study the above with a direct desire to go into the Film industry as a technical assistant, or those who want to teach or study media as a more advance area, then they are perfect for them. Those who simply rock up to UCAS day at school and casually mention that they watch TV so it can be easy for them to study media, are making a mockery of our education system.
The University system needs to be culled like the rights of people within the British Isles. What's wrong with getting into plumbing, metalwork, automotive repair, even electronic repairs. It would be a two pronged attack: Getting the Uni's less crowded and more respected and also training young Brits to potentially start a franchise, get some skills and provide a fantastic service to their local community.
The younger generations of Britain can be great, so show some faith in them and give them a kick up the backside!
Would The Real Christian Grey Please Stand Up?
Britain has been a very wet place recently, with people from Lands End to John O' Groats complaining about the dreary atmosphere and constant moisture. Many people are complaining about the bastards in their Range Rovers, who obviously use their 2 tonne wrecking ball-type cars as over sized bullets to target poor little foxes. Others blame the industrialists who spew hundreds of tonnes of CO2 directly into the lungs of babies, and force them to smoke ALL the cigarettes. And of course there is the few who blame the oil consuming countries for warming their homes and creating an infrastructure, all the while melting the polar ice caps and sending the world into a storm of problems. I have a different view however. I blame 50 Shades of Grey for all the wetness we are experiencing at the moment.
For the very few of you who might not be aware of what this is, let me sum this up in about 2 lines:
Man meets virgin girl. Man seduces virgin girl. Has lots of S&M sex to music. He is a businessman, she is a college graduate. Extend over 3 books.
Essentially, if this happened in real life, he'd be a media bastard, a typical man who should be shunned and blamed for corrupting the youth, and abusing her. Because it's fiction, he's a wonderfully brooding man, beautiful inside and out who teaches her how to love (albeit his warped way). So why have the women of the country gone so crazy for what can only be described as a graphic soiree masquerading as a fan fiction novel? Quite simple actually: Women want a man to be dominant, and tell them what to do. It appears exciting, being dominated and told exactly what they need to do, and why. Don't get me wrong, I'm very supportive of strong women, and women's rights, but don't kid yourselves when women are sat at their desks all day contributing to the moisture in the office fantasising about Grey.
In fact, I want to know if you find the character I am about to describe as attractive. Would you date him if you met him?
"I was sat on the train when I first caught a glimpse of the stranger opposite me, and when our eyes met my heart skipped a beat. His steel blue eyes were the first thing I noticed, like two lochs on a spring morning they seemed to go on forever, like they were peering into me as I peered into them. Behind his rimmed glasses they seemed almost caged, yearning to be free to scan the world for themselves. His hair was ear length, slightly wavy and the colour of a young deer, he'd occasionally have to brush it from those eyes with a slow but deliberate movement, tracing a path from his eyes down to his cheek. He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling a little as he did so, and I found myself smiling back, catching myself before I knew what I was doing. His smile was infectious....
"We walked beside the river, being guided by the moonlight on our homeward journey, but heart getting stronger as we neared his apartment. I looked across at the man I had got to know over these weeks, his face illuminated in the moons light, almost with a mystical quality as the light caressed and danced over his delicate features. I had no idea he was an executive, his down to earth nature belayed that, and his giving spirit he showed when he bought that little boy a drink would make a mockery of all of my preconceived stereotypes. Strange to think a man with such a bad start to life would be as gentle as he. Orphaned at such a young age, forced into a home, bullied by contemporaries and ostracized for being different he rose to prominence in his field of law on the back of hard work. The flame I saw burning within him burned not with anger and a desire for revenge as it had done for years, but simply burned with a peace and desire to change the world and the lives of those within it."
So what makes him so attractive? He ticks all the typical checklists of what women want in a fictional man.
1 - He's damaged, so you can fix him and he'll love you forever.
2 - He's a billionaire. Showering you with gifts, not too bad eh.
3 - He is a giver, and likes to please a woman.
4 - He's warped and thus BAD.
The holy 4 things a fictional man should be? Why not, sounds good right? Until you realise who else could be categorized by that list...
- Batman
- Mr Burns
- Richie Rich
- Forrest Gump
- Mr Monopoly
- Iron Man
I don't know about you, but as a response I am going to get on the tube tonight with a copy of Playboy and sit reading it. I don't mind reading erotica, at least I'm open about it.
For the very few of you who might not be aware of what this is, let me sum this up in about 2 lines:
Man meets virgin girl. Man seduces virgin girl. Has lots of S&M sex to music. He is a businessman, she is a college graduate. Extend over 3 books.
Essentially, if this happened in real life, he'd be a media bastard, a typical man who should be shunned and blamed for corrupting the youth, and abusing her. Because it's fiction, he's a wonderfully brooding man, beautiful inside and out who teaches her how to love (albeit his warped way). So why have the women of the country gone so crazy for what can only be described as a graphic soiree masquerading as a fan fiction novel? Quite simple actually: Women want a man to be dominant, and tell them what to do. It appears exciting, being dominated and told exactly what they need to do, and why. Don't get me wrong, I'm very supportive of strong women, and women's rights, but don't kid yourselves when women are sat at their desks all day contributing to the moisture in the office fantasising about Grey.
In fact, I want to know if you find the character I am about to describe as attractive. Would you date him if you met him?
"I was sat on the train when I first caught a glimpse of the stranger opposite me, and when our eyes met my heart skipped a beat. His steel blue eyes were the first thing I noticed, like two lochs on a spring morning they seemed to go on forever, like they were peering into me as I peered into them. Behind his rimmed glasses they seemed almost caged, yearning to be free to scan the world for themselves. His hair was ear length, slightly wavy and the colour of a young deer, he'd occasionally have to brush it from those eyes with a slow but deliberate movement, tracing a path from his eyes down to his cheek. He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling a little as he did so, and I found myself smiling back, catching myself before I knew what I was doing. His smile was infectious....
"We walked beside the river, being guided by the moonlight on our homeward journey, but heart getting stronger as we neared his apartment. I looked across at the man I had got to know over these weeks, his face illuminated in the moons light, almost with a mystical quality as the light caressed and danced over his delicate features. I had no idea he was an executive, his down to earth nature belayed that, and his giving spirit he showed when he bought that little boy a drink would make a mockery of all of my preconceived stereotypes. Strange to think a man with such a bad start to life would be as gentle as he. Orphaned at such a young age, forced into a home, bullied by contemporaries and ostracized for being different he rose to prominence in his field of law on the back of hard work. The flame I saw burning within him burned not with anger and a desire for revenge as it had done for years, but simply burned with a peace and desire to change the world and the lives of those within it."
So what makes him so attractive? He ticks all the typical checklists of what women want in a fictional man.
1 - He's damaged, so you can fix him and he'll love you forever.
2 - He's a billionaire. Showering you with gifts, not too bad eh.
3 - He is a giver, and likes to please a woman.
4 - He's warped and thus BAD.
The holy 4 things a fictional man should be? Why not, sounds good right? Until you realise who else could be categorized by that list...
- Batman
- Mr Burns
- Richie Rich
- Forrest Gump
- Mr Monopoly
- Iron Man
I don't know about you, but as a response I am going to get on the tube tonight with a copy of Playboy and sit reading it. I don't mind reading erotica, at least I'm open about it.
Monday, 5 December 2011
A Concise Collection of Terminology
Whilst listening to whiter than coffee carpet enthusiast Jessie J, I was enlightened to the fact that I know almost nothing about the world beyond my domain. Armed with this knowledge I descended into the world of Ke-dollarsign-ha, Lady GaGa, Jayzee and the rest of the lyrical spinners. It turns out I know nothing. So, judging from the lyrics and my own intellect, I have devised a list of terms that these artists use in a song-to-song frequency to help you out as well.
MANDEM
A term used to describe a particularly well muscled man, usually of darker descent, who is willing to do favours of a sexual nature in return for vast sums of money.
"Do it like a mandem" - Perform the act upon me like a male hooker might do.
SPITTING LYRICS
A term used to insult an opponent in a rhyming debate (also known as a rap battle) in which the opponent cannot rap without spitting vast amounts of saliva over his opponent.
"Man, that punk was spitting lyrics like a dope" - I say, that chap needs to control his outbursts, especially of saliva, else he might get a smack.
JUMP THE BROOM
A profound lyric highlighting the plight of a chauvinistic male who has insulted his lady friends' (or "Hoes/Bitches") housekeeping abilities. As a result, she must be angry and is therefore kicking off by swinging the broom at him, something which he must dodge.
"Bitch flew off, so I jumped the broom!" - She really didn't take too kindly to me highlighting her inabilities in sweeping, and she came at me with the broom. I saw it coming and promptly maneuvered myself away.
TRIPPING
Whilst under the influence of alcohol or narcotics, one may become unsteady on their feet and will naturally sway. Whilst walking, they will lose their footing and trip. Therein lies the genesis of the word, to be tripping.
"Man you trippin!" - Watch where you're going chap, you've had a bit too much to drink and you're in danger of hitting in to me.
SKEET SKEET SKEET
A term brought in to save the gangs of LA, encouraging the young men in the crips and blood gangs to stop using each others rear ends (or "asses") as target practice and begin using Skeets (clay pigeons).
"Let that bitch go down and skeet skeet skeet" - Take my other half down to the fields and have a good old shoot.
GASFACE
The ultimate in humiliation. When someone is least expecting it, a member of their group breaks wind in their face in full view of everyone else. They are now referred to as a gasface.
SWEATING THE TECHNIQUE
A term used for the rappers and artists who are quite shy and retiring. These artists are very self-conscious of their work, and believe they have a problem with how they go about their business of lyric spitting.
"I heard it and I sweat the technique" - Is that me?! I sound like a cat being hit with a baby...
MURK
A term used when one person is going to engage in sexual intercourse with another of the same sex, usually with the "murker" taking on the penetrational role. The murkee is seen as somewhat of a bitch.
"I'm gonna murk dat wanker" - His masturbation techniques have impressed me adequately enough to persuade me to ask to have sex with him.
STEP OFF
Perhaps one of the oldest rhyming slangs, it was created in the 18th century by pirates and those who were about to be hung for treachery. It translates into the modern day slang by way of harking back to the literal term, stepping off of the plank or scaffold.
"I told him to step off me" - His career is short lived, and he'll be seen as inferior to me soon.
DROP IT LIKE ITS HOT
A term to describe rapping at a certain speed. Like a plane must travel a certain speed before it breaks the speed of sound, a rapper must rap more than 250 words a minute to justify the term "dropping it like it's hot."
MANDEM
A term used to describe a particularly well muscled man, usually of darker descent, who is willing to do favours of a sexual nature in return for vast sums of money.
"Do it like a mandem" - Perform the act upon me like a male hooker might do.
SPITTING LYRICS
A term used to insult an opponent in a rhyming debate (also known as a rap battle) in which the opponent cannot rap without spitting vast amounts of saliva over his opponent.
"Man, that punk was spitting lyrics like a dope" - I say, that chap needs to control his outbursts, especially of saliva, else he might get a smack.
JUMP THE BROOM
A profound lyric highlighting the plight of a chauvinistic male who has insulted his lady friends' (or "Hoes/Bitches") housekeeping abilities. As a result, she must be angry and is therefore kicking off by swinging the broom at him, something which he must dodge.
"Bitch flew off, so I jumped the broom!" - She really didn't take too kindly to me highlighting her inabilities in sweeping, and she came at me with the broom. I saw it coming and promptly maneuvered myself away.
TRIPPING
Whilst under the influence of alcohol or narcotics, one may become unsteady on their feet and will naturally sway. Whilst walking, they will lose their footing and trip. Therein lies the genesis of the word, to be tripping.
"Man you trippin!" - Watch where you're going chap, you've had a bit too much to drink and you're in danger of hitting in to me.
SKEET SKEET SKEET
A term brought in to save the gangs of LA, encouraging the young men in the crips and blood gangs to stop using each others rear ends (or "asses") as target practice and begin using Skeets (clay pigeons).
"Let that bitch go down and skeet skeet skeet" - Take my other half down to the fields and have a good old shoot.
GASFACE
The ultimate in humiliation. When someone is least expecting it, a member of their group breaks wind in their face in full view of everyone else. They are now referred to as a gasface.
SWEATING THE TECHNIQUE
A term used for the rappers and artists who are quite shy and retiring. These artists are very self-conscious of their work, and believe they have a problem with how they go about their business of lyric spitting.
"I heard it and I sweat the technique" - Is that me?! I sound like a cat being hit with a baby...
MURK
A term used when one person is going to engage in sexual intercourse with another of the same sex, usually with the "murker" taking on the penetrational role. The murkee is seen as somewhat of a bitch.
"I'm gonna murk dat wanker" - His masturbation techniques have impressed me adequately enough to persuade me to ask to have sex with him.
STEP OFF
Perhaps one of the oldest rhyming slangs, it was created in the 18th century by pirates and those who were about to be hung for treachery. It translates into the modern day slang by way of harking back to the literal term, stepping off of the plank or scaffold.
"I told him to step off me" - His career is short lived, and he'll be seen as inferior to me soon.
DROP IT LIKE ITS HOT
A term to describe rapping at a certain speed. Like a plane must travel a certain speed before it breaks the speed of sound, a rapper must rap more than 250 words a minute to justify the term "dropping it like it's hot."
Monday, 2 May 2011
Return of the Ironman
Well hasn't it been a long time since I have taken up the tap tap tapping of the keys to bring you a post from the cyberworld of my head? Yes, the answer is yes. While I have several posts ready to upload, over my cereal and tea this morning I read an interesting news story in, of the three I was reading, the Sun. It concerned itself with the return of Column Idol.
This "talent" search prides itself in finding the best new writers out there and giving them a years posting as a column writer for the Sun. Now last year Dizzee Rascal was the spokesman for the search, which promptly negates all value from the search. Not because he's useless with the language he speaks, but because he is a rapper, and they have no business urging people to write columns. Someone who urges every young person in the land to "fix up look sharp" and refers to himself as a rascal clearly has my vote as a person, but as he adds "my bitches in dis club" at the end suddenly strips him of it.
And this years spokesperson is Jessie J, famous for making mandem famous in Britain. I personally thought, using logic, that Mandem was a pre-op trans-sexual who wasn't quite a woman yet, but not a man either.
So, this year's column idol will be the same as last year's piss poor excuse for a talent search (think a Matalan version of the X-Factor and you get the picture). So here is my prediction for the outcome;
6 young people will be chosen, all of them will have a sob story enabling them to make it to the final. There will be one person who is ill, one young mum whose promising school career (not pregnant and in line to get 5 C's) was ended when she became pregnant, one person from the "hood", one immigrant, one person who is overweight and sensitive and someone who is right wing and from a middle class background. The latter will appear to be Hitler's love child with Myra Hindley next to the poor peasants he is stood next to.
In all fairness I do condone letting these kids who wouldn't otherwise have an outlet enter, because why should your circumstance mean you're pigeonholed into being a mechanic or hairdresser? They shouldn't. Some of the entrants are bloody good, with increasingly tragic sounding stories, but the fact of the matter is that this isn't Make a Wish foundation, and this won't propel you to the pinnacle of success that is Britains Got Talent. This is a column writing competition, so let the writing do the talking. So long as it isn't a sob story.
I'm going to enter though, and claim that I had both of my testicles ripped off by a pitbull belonging to a BNP member, as I tried to put a leaflet through his door highlighting climate change. Then, on the way back from the hospital David Cameron personally kicked me in the face while filming it for a happy slap video, resulting in me having to wait for longer due to the piss poor Polish immigrant nurses at the NHS.
I think I'll win.
This "talent" search prides itself in finding the best new writers out there and giving them a years posting as a column writer for the Sun. Now last year Dizzee Rascal was the spokesman for the search, which promptly negates all value from the search. Not because he's useless with the language he speaks, but because he is a rapper, and they have no business urging people to write columns. Someone who urges every young person in the land to "fix up look sharp" and refers to himself as a rascal clearly has my vote as a person, but as he adds "my bitches in dis club" at the end suddenly strips him of it.
And this years spokesperson is Jessie J, famous for making mandem famous in Britain. I personally thought, using logic, that Mandem was a pre-op trans-sexual who wasn't quite a woman yet, but not a man either.
So, this year's column idol will be the same as last year's piss poor excuse for a talent search (think a Matalan version of the X-Factor and you get the picture). So here is my prediction for the outcome;
6 young people will be chosen, all of them will have a sob story enabling them to make it to the final. There will be one person who is ill, one young mum whose promising school career (not pregnant and in line to get 5 C's) was ended when she became pregnant, one person from the "hood", one immigrant, one person who is overweight and sensitive and someone who is right wing and from a middle class background. The latter will appear to be Hitler's love child with Myra Hindley next to the poor peasants he is stood next to.
In all fairness I do condone letting these kids who wouldn't otherwise have an outlet enter, because why should your circumstance mean you're pigeonholed into being a mechanic or hairdresser? They shouldn't. Some of the entrants are bloody good, with increasingly tragic sounding stories, but the fact of the matter is that this isn't Make a Wish foundation, and this won't propel you to the pinnacle of success that is Britains Got Talent. This is a column writing competition, so let the writing do the talking. So long as it isn't a sob story.
I'm going to enter though, and claim that I had both of my testicles ripped off by a pitbull belonging to a BNP member, as I tried to put a leaflet through his door highlighting climate change. Then, on the way back from the hospital David Cameron personally kicked me in the face while filming it for a happy slap video, resulting in me having to wait for longer due to the piss poor Polish immigrant nurses at the NHS.
I think I'll win.
Sunday, 3 October 2010
Good To See There Are Still Concorde Moments
With the green lobby placing a stranglehold upon the automotive industry, blaming the humble automobile on the death of cuddly pandas, global warming and melting ice caps it's no wonder that the marques are becoming more and more conservative when it comes to new designs and technology.
When the Bugatti Veyron was developed, with it's 16 cylinder quad-turbo engine developing 1000bhp and enough CO2 to turn the third world into a dustbowl, the world stood in awe. Able to do 252mph and having comforts such as air conditioning and sat-nav it was seen as the pinnacle of engineering, outdoing the next best by some 12mph. It may not seem a great achievement, but when you realise that the Veyron needs to develop an extra 400bhp to reach the last 30mph it becomes more apparant that it's a technological marvel. So naturally, with a large fuel tank it can empty in just 18 minutes when at full tilt, it's not small wonder that the environmentalists look upon this car as the bastard love child of Hitler, Hindley and the Royal Mail.
So with the world becoming increasingly brainwashed by "scientific" findings, you can imagine that the marques would be scared to make the mistake of a Veyron again. Ford, Fiat and Mercedes are all investing millions in alternative fuels and alternative drivetrains, such as hybrid technology and hydrogen fuel cells, but it's good to see that Jaguar are of the time.
Jaguar recently revealed it's latest revolutionary concept, the C-X75, or to the common man a hybrid car, developing 975bhp and capable of 200mph. It has four wheels, two seats and has an all aluminium construction. Doesn't sound too revolutionary does it? That is until you find it is powered by Jet engines. Honest to god, two jet engines which top up the electrical engines located on each wheel. At 28grams of CO2/km the superJag can look down at the Prius and laugh, which delivers a hefty 90grams per km in comparison.
When the Bugatti Veyron was developed, with it's 16 cylinder quad-turbo engine developing 1000bhp and enough CO2 to turn the third world into a dustbowl, the world stood in awe. Able to do 252mph and having comforts such as air conditioning and sat-nav it was seen as the pinnacle of engineering, outdoing the next best by some 12mph. It may not seem a great achievement, but when you realise that the Veyron needs to develop an extra 400bhp to reach the last 30mph it becomes more apparant that it's a technological marvel. So naturally, with a large fuel tank it can empty in just 18 minutes when at full tilt, it's not small wonder that the environmentalists look upon this car as the bastard love child of Hitler, Hindley and the Royal Mail.
So with the world becoming increasingly brainwashed by "scientific" findings, you can imagine that the marques would be scared to make the mistake of a Veyron again. Ford, Fiat and Mercedes are all investing millions in alternative fuels and alternative drivetrains, such as hybrid technology and hydrogen fuel cells, but it's good to see that Jaguar are of the time.
Jaguar recently revealed it's latest revolutionary concept, the C-X75, or to the common man a hybrid car, developing 975bhp and capable of 200mph. It has four wheels, two seats and has an all aluminium construction. Doesn't sound too revolutionary does it? That is until you find it is powered by Jet engines. Honest to god, two jet engines which top up the electrical engines located on each wheel. At 28grams of CO2/km the superJag can look down at the Prius and laugh, which delivers a hefty 90grams per km in comparison.
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