Imperial Doughnut

Quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock

2011-12-30T23:27:00.001Z

Another year, another 12 months of mindless self-indulgence. And by that I mean wasting money on myself, not the band, nor anything hedonistic.

With 2012 looming I can’t help but start to chalk up where the heck all that not-so-disposable income went. I’m a reasonably frugal person, and I live a relatively boring life, but I’ve still thrown too many coins at too many distractions. While I can’t claim to have a rich and rewarding selection of interests and hobbies I do have a few. I’m equally rubbish at them all, of course, but that’s a given.

This was the year that the dream was almost over in terms of playing football regularly after a spiral of apathy and natural wastage decimated my team. As strange as it may sound I enjoy playing far more than I probably should. Although I have the desire and determination to play, and to win, of a professional I combine it with the technical ability of someone a third of my age. It’d be nice to be twice as good but only half as bothered, as many of my teammates are, but it’s only one of a considerably long list of lots in life I just have to accept.

Thankfully come the tail-end of the year salvation was found in playing 5-a-side indoor. It’s an entirely different ball game, and a bit soulless in comparison, but at least I’m still playing. Unfortunately it comes at a far higher price than grass, which came in at very little.

MMXI perhaps marks the end of my numerous misadventures into photography, only a bazillion underwhelming photos in. I’ve no more (non-instant) film cameras and I expect to have no more Polaroid cameras soon enough. The day had to come eventually.

I’ve become very selective in my gaming spend having long since sold the majority of my collection, along with my continuing resistance to getting a 360 and PS3. I do not feel the hunger to keep up with the latest and greatest titles. The only new, full price games I’ve bought this year were Zelda games. I did, however, throw caution to the wind and get the 3DS at launch. Try as I might I can’t help that I have Nintendo and Sega wired into my brain. I might even have Alex Kidd in Miracle World built-in. This said I intend to avoid the Wii U… at launch anyway.

Everton? As a fan of any team you always hope better times are ahead but it’s clear we’re now firmly within a period of readjustment, to put it mildly. In a game ruled by money we hit the glass ceiling and have now arguably fallen off the ladder as key players have left without replacement, let alone improvements to other weaknesses in the team. The next few seasons are looking increasingly like a case of rebuilding with relatively meagre resources as the bulk of the squad is slowly broken up. Unfortunately the performances on the pitch in the meantime are unlikely to be easy on the eyes or the blood pressure. None of this matters though. Getting a season ticket will always be non-negotiable while I can afford it.

I do have to thank my lucky stars that I have the option to ponder what I frivolously spend on myself but austerity measures must ensue eventually. By continuing to reduce my stuff footprint I’ll be looking to have a neutral or negative spend on hobbies in 2012.

A more resolute man would squirrel away every non-essential penny but I honestly believe I already operate far beyond most people’s humdrum threshold. If all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy I’d shudder to think what it’d make me.

Eleven

2011-12-26T23:55:00.001Z

Post-it notes rarely stick to anything for long. Okay, obviously they’re meant to be temporary but even so they do have a habit of falling off most flat surfaces with ease. And I’m talking the real deal here – genuine Post-its, not an imitation brand.

I have, however, managed to get one to stick for almost five years. It has clung protruding from under the border of my monitor since 2007 despite hundreds of it’s brethren having long lost their will to stick in the same area within days of their placement. I haven’t reapplied any pressure to it, provided it with adhesive-enhancing supplements, or tampered with it in any way after it’s original application. It’s just stayed there defiantly refusing to budge.

So why I have I not simply removed it? I certainly didn’t intend for it to be there this long. And, I’m not that lazy… well, not too lazy to remove a Post-it note that is in my eye-line perhaps 6 hours of every day.

I’ve let it be because the message scrawled on it’s light yellow paper is as applicable now as it was then. By having resisted dropping off this long it appears fated to mock me; the relevance despite so much time having passed only serving to underline it’s point.

But what the devil does it say?

The message on it reads ‘STOP WASTING TIME!’. Simple but straight to the point. When I put it up it wasn’t meant to be a long-term life target; it was a prompt to get me to knuckle down on a piece of work I was doing instead of finding distractions.

It’s fair to say that five years of being reminded hasn’t exactly worked wonders. I’m probably as aimless now as I’ve ever been. And if you know me, or of me, you’ll recognise that is no simple feat. But let’s not go there.

I could have posted a thousand things on here in that time. I’m not suggesting that they would have been in any way interesting or insightful, or read by anyone at all, but they’d have still been a far better use of my time.

Will 2012 be any different? No promises. Every year I like to pretend to myself that I will rediscover the joys of typing a load of complete nonsense for the world to potentially see but I’m usually too preoccupied with speaking it to anyone within earshot to try.

Instead I am to make that bloody Post-it note eat it’s words – or at least not have to look at it so often. It’s not a case of a embracing a purposeful, fulfilling, and enlightening existence. That would require a sea change so vast it would require the waves from Deep Impact. No, just to spend considerably less of my waking hours staring at screens would be an achievement.

She & Him - In The Sun (2010)

2011-09-28T17:02:00.000+01:00

Healthier Anzac

2011-09-25T20:50:00.001+01:00

Anzac biscuits are ace! The combination of oats, syrup, and coconut make them highly dunkable and highly addictive.

For no apparent reason, excusing the potential of having twice as many as usual, I made some that are butter-free and refined sugar-low.

But alas, cutting the crap comes with a trade-off. They crumble more easily and certainly do not maintain structural cohesion as well when immersed in tea.

Work in progress then on that front, but still nourish as long as you eat them faster than they can fall apart.

Ingredients

100g Jumbo Oats
100g Plain Flour
50g Desiccated Coconut
25g Sunflower Seeds
25g Pumpkin Seeds
4 tbsp Light Olive Oil
1 tbsp Honey
1 tbsp Golden Syrup
1 tsp Bicarbonate of Soda
2 tbsp Boiling Water

Method

Pre-heat oven to 130 c. Prepare two baking trays.
In a small bowl add the bicarbonate of soda to the boiling water.
Mix in the olive oil, honey, and syrup.
In another bowl mix together the dry ingredients.
Pour the wet stuff into the dry and stir until fully combined.
Spoon two tablespoons worth of the mix into a small circular cutter (I used 5cm wide) placed on the backing tray.
Squash down with a spoon or silicone spatula until densely packed then remove the cutter.
Repeat leaving an inch between each instance. There should be enough mix for 18.
Place in oven on the lowest shelf for 20 minutes. They will brown quickly but resist removing them too early.
Once fully cooled place in an air-tight container and refrigerate to improve solidity.

Naked Date and Cashew Cake

2011-09-20T21:25:00.001+01:00

Cashews because I was all out of walnuts. Dates because they’re awesome. They may not be typical cakey bedfellows but they taste fine to me.

This works best as a tray bake rather than a full-blown cake. With my brownie tray I can cut 24 slices that are the right balance between a modest tea snack but also make Mr Kippling look a bit stingy.

This was/is a Waitrose recipe but although I’ve followed it to the word in the past on this occasion I dropped most of the sugar, syrup, butter, and eliminated the icing altogether (thus the nakedness). I personally don’t miss it.

Ingredients

200g Dates, chopped.
50g Cashew Nuts, chopped.
150ml Hot Water.
60g Butter, softened.
50g Light Brown Sugar.
1 tbsp Golden Syrup
3 Medium Eggs
200g Plain Flour
1½ tsp Baking Powder
1 tsp Ground Cinnamon

Method

Pre-heat oven to 180°c. Line or grease your tin or tray of choice.
Chop the dates, place in a bowl and cover with the hot water to soften things up.
In a big bowl beat the butter and sugar together, then add the spoonful o’ syrup.
In another bowl sieve the flour, baking powder, and cinnamon together.
Stir in a third of the dry ingredients followed by an egg to the butter and sugar mix. Repeat in turn until everything is combined.
Whack in the dates. No need to drain them, keep it sloppy! Finally, mix in the cashew nuts.
Plop into your pan/tray, level, and place in oven. Let the magic happen for just shy of 30 minutes. Remove. Cool. Cut. Eat.

Everton 0-1 QPR

2011-08-21T20:30:00.001+01:00

I never go to Goodison thinking we're going to get beat but as this match wore on, even with scores still level, defeat had a certain inevitability about it.

Sometimes results just seem to go with the prevailing mass media narrative, and this one should fit in nicely with that of a club engulfed by growing turmoil on and off the pitch. Add the contrast with QPR’s newfound hope and, more poignantly, cash to splash having undergone the change of ownership and investment we are desperately seeking and you can be forgiven for thinking it was already set in stone.

In truth, things are not that bad. Yes, it was a disappointing game. Unfortunately also one that ensured there was no immediate respite from the mounting pessimism amongst most fans for this campaign. But it’s not exactly unusual to see us struggle early doors irrespective of who is the opposition.

Like not having any money, desperately needing more players, and not actually buying any, this is nothing new. In fact this is the fourth consecutive season we have lost our opening game. Furthermore, losing at home to the promoted sides now seems customary – last season saw nil poi against Newcastle and West Brom; while Blackpool got close to completing the set.

But while our slow starts are now well-documented, it is our weakness against sides who beckon us to show initiative – rather than disrupt and counter – that is the more troubling reoccurrence.

We created chances but Baines’ crossbar-crashing free-kick aside our attempts failed to challenge Paddy Kenny in the opposition net. And so played out the same old story of an inability to threaten to score against a hard working, well-drilled opposition who nick a goal and understandably protect their lead.

Without much of a cutting edge or cohesion in our attacking play QPR were comfortable. One nil is hardly a damning margin of defeat but even given a full hour to rally it was seemingly insurmountable.

This was a performance full of sloppy play, misplaced passes, unforced errors, and wrong choices. There were shrugs and heads down well before full time. Most players looked tired, yet not necessarily physically. Defeat was not through a lack of effort but we certainly seemed low on sharpness.

QPR’s goal resulted from a passage of pressure in our third in which numerous players had ample opportunities to regain possession or at least clear, but instead resulted in a calamitous sequence of simple mistakes.

Whether certain goings on and the strife that has ensued has permeated the dressing room is open to question but it's clear things are not F-A-B.

It was no coincidence that the one player to rise above the lethargy was the one fresh face. As has been the case in pre-season, Ross Barkley was one of the few positives. He was unfazed on his league (and competitive) debut; prepared to try to make things happen, and equally so inclined to try to score himself. Outrageous, hype-fuelled levels of expectation are soon to be bestowed on our latest starlet by pundits and journalists alike but there's already a fair few blues resting their hopes for this season on his shoulders.

It’s too early to speculate whether those hopes are for more than comfortable survival in mid-table. With a fully-fit squad and all cylinders firing we are still capable of challenging within the top 8 we have occupied for the last 5 seasons. The squad has changed little over the past two years (although that is half of the problem); the wider realisation that our relatively meagre resources have surpassed breaking point does not instantly diminish their capability. Teams around and below us (let alone those at the top table) may have strengthened, spent more, and recruited some of the very players we’d have tried to sign. But again, it’s a familiar scenario.

Although triumphing against the odds and overcoming great setbacks (typically early season form, loss of key personnel for long stretches) are precious characteristics of this side it is possibly more imperative than ever that we don’t have to be practically suffocating in adversity before we get a few wins under our belt.

With a nightmarish 5 weeks starting late September ahead, featuring a run of fixtures against City away, Liverpool home, Chelsea away, Fulham away (where we’ve taken 4 points over the last 10 seasons) and United home, it is critical we see a decent return in the three games ahead (Blackburn away, Villa at home, and Wigan at home).

One thing is for sure, if we are to keep the dark clouds at bay we’ll need to get more than the 2 points combined (draws with Villa and Wigan) that we gained from those fixtures last season.

Ginger ‘Nana Cake

2011-08-21T17:12:00.001+01:00

Butter-free, treacle-rific, and a bit bananas compared with your typical ginger cake. This is a spongy rather than sticky effort that is neither too noticeably banana infused nor overpoweringly gingery.

Sure, another teaspoons or two of ground ginger - or indeed the addition/substitution of stem ginger - would really give it a kick but I wanted it relatively mild as some of those who may be consuming it shy away from anything too spiced.

Will make 16 slices (roughly 2inch cubed if you’re using an 8inch square tin).

Ingredients

250g Plain Flour
2 tsp Baking Powder
1 tsp Bicarbonate of Soda
4 tsp Ground Ginger
½ tsp Ground Cinnamon
1 Medium Egg
4 tbsp/60ml Light Olive Oil
4 tbsp/60ml Treacle
1 tbsp/15ml Syrup*
2 Smallish Bananas/1 Huge Banana (approximately 160g mashed)
100ml Water

*In my case some naff Tate & Lyle maple-flavoured syrup.

Method

Pre-heat oven to 140°c (fan-assisted). Line/grease a 20cm/8inch square cake tin.

In a large bowl sieve and combine the dry ingredients.

In another bowl slice and mash the bananas to baby food consistency; then add the olive oil, and whisk in the egg. Stir in the treacle and syrup without getting it everywhere and/or sticking your hand to the tin.

Create a shallow crater in the centre of the dry ingredients and fill with the wet stuff. Start to mix everything together. Progressively add the water to loosen things up and ensure the dry stuff is properly incorporated.

Pour into baking tin and place on a low shelf in the oven. Bake for 40-50 minutes, depending on how evil your oven is.

Grand Theft Autostereoscopic

2011-04-03T22:49:00.001+01:00

I bought a 3DS at launch.

Every time there’s a new console I say that it’ll be my last but here I am again happy to bestow Nintendo with yet more gold coins.

I didn’t try it beforehand. I bought on faith. And the inevitable announcement of Shenmue 3 for it, obviously. Thankfully it turns out it’s quite a cool box of tricks (or illusions).

The 3D effect really is both uncanny and awesome, albeit as long as you’re not expecting something akin to the Jaws 19 advert in Back to the Future Part II. Enough said.

I’m enjoying playing Tom Clancy’s X-Com (a.k.a. Ghost Recon Shadow Wars). As has been mentioned by many, as a relatively flat and simple looking turn-based strategy game it is by no means a major showcase for the 3D effect per se. But what it does show is that even games that use the effect subtly look exponentially better with it active than without it.

It’s got me convinced that a visual style similar to a tilt-shift photography effect with selective focus of seemingly miniature locations would both shock and awe if applied to a game. A Grand Theft Auto game using it would be too obvious. How’s about within a Katamari Damacy game played against a backdrop of photo-realistic 3D layered real-world locations? Or indeed Shenmue 3. Make it happen.

The 3D photo functionality is another honeymoon period joy. Alas, the photo quality is truly woeful. It right up there with a late-90’s webcam or saving a JPEG at 95% compression. The 3D element is the obvious saving grace. Behold some samples replicated in wiggle-GIF-o-vision below:

The Eiffel Tower on top of Pikachu’s head? Why not? Even he’s nodding in approval…

3DS camera(s) meet the Game Boy Camera. Nintendo need to add a Game Boy Camera filter effect to the software. It’d probably blow the 3D apart but there’s still a charm about it’s ultra-basic resolution.

Finally, after 12 years, a decent 3D Sonic. Oh dear.

Everton 5–3 Blackpool

2011-02-06T21:41:00.001Z

Bad weather, goals galore, and a real yo-yo of a game that Everton thankfully saw out for a deserved victory.

Credit to Blackpool, of course, who contributed their now famed commitment to attacking intent. But after snatching a 3-2 lead, courtesy of a trio of the kind of sloppily conceded goals that have been gifted to the supposed lesser teams at Goodison this season on an unerringly consistent basis, the blues stepped it up a gear to ensure they weren’t the latest team to be rumbled on home turf by the tangerines.

I’m sure Blackpool could claim they were close to a couple more goals themselves, but Everton could’ve, and really should’ve, scored enough goals to take their tally close to double figures.

Jack Rodwell spurned two chances from close range and then had another cleared on the line. Bily similarly had an effort denied from crossing the white, and then there was the inexplicably disallowed goal by Saha.

Thank the heavens that King Louie has his groove back! When fit and confident he really is a formidable player of the real class. If only we could cryogenically freeze him when he’s like this between games, leeches and all. After months of not so much as being able to buy a goal (Fabregas allegations aside) he’s now notched up 8 goals over our last 7 games. Our hopes of making a belated climb up the table largely rest on his continued good form and availability.

He wasn’t the only striker showing his class though. The goal that put the game firmly back in Everton’s control was a sublime first-time finish from substitute Jermaine Beckford that yet again underlined his finishing quality. The jury is still out with many blues on whether he will make the grade long term, or as a regular starter, but the appearance of human wall James Beattie in the Blackpool ranks served as a timely reminder that we’ve had numerous worse strikers within the last decade who have cost us a heck of a lot more money and never showed such prowess in front of goal.

Fellaini and Baines were top notch as usual, but then you probably didn’t need me to tell you that…

Everton 1-1 Chelsea

2011-01-30T12:59:00.001Z

After a tit-for-tat first-half of few chances, whereby the blues of Merseyside and London largely cancelled each other out, Everton took the sword to the current FA Cup holders.

Unfortunately, as has been the case numerous times this season, the toffees only had one goal to show for their periods of dominance and ended up succumbing to an equaliser on the counter-attack from a corner in their favour. Both sides then had the opportunity to win the game, Chelsea from a Ramires drive that crashed off the post and Everton from an audacious Beckford volley that Cech tipped over, but the tie will now go to a replay.

While the commendable second-half performance meant it felt disappointing to draw there were plenty of positives to take in-light of the grey clouds that engulfed Goodison against West Ham in the game that preceded this fixture.

As has often been the case this season the star men in blue were Fellaini, Baines, and Coleman but credit must go to the whole team – with particular plaudits for Johnny Heitinga, who managed to keep a typically melodramatic Didier Drogba quiet, Louis Saha who lead the line as we know he can (injuries permitting), and Jack Rodwell who showed in flashes the quality of touch driving forward that we all hope he will continue to develop.

Everton 2-2 West Ham

2011-01-23T14:49:00.001Z

In a season chock full of disappointing home performances the blues predictably contrived to make hard work of wrestling a point from the league’s bottom side.

It was desperately poor at times, no question.

The trend this season dictates that we play far better against the passing teams, and struggle against the aggressive, supposed anti-football teams. But West Ham showed no less (or more) quality on the ball than we did. Sure, there was tenacity and determination within their ranks – epitomised by the likes of Scott Parker and Mark Noble - but it was nothing unsporting. Certainly nothing we shouldn’t have been matching. And yet for most of the game half the team in blue (or just Distin, Baines, and Fellaini aside) looked like they were playing in their slippers.

Some reasoned that West Ham wanted it more because they are fighting for survival. But are we not a team that is self-proclaimed to thrive in the face of adversity – not to mention also essentially fighting for our survival too? Is the fact that we have only 5 wins out of 23 games and continue to sit closer to the relegation places than the top six in a season where a run of wins would practically make you a challenger for a Champions League place (albeit temporarily) not enough adversity for them?

Upon being encouraged to gee up his charges Phil Neville aimed a gesticulated rebuttal towards the fans in my area of the paddock suggesting we get behind them more. A case of frustration perhaps, but if the Everton captain is upset that Goodison isn’t throwing itself into rapturous chorus after we’ve managed to successfully string a handful of sideways passes together in our half he should be glad that people have been biting their lips in the face of such tripe fare most the season.

Everyone is aware of the constraints and numerous factors that have culminated in our current predicament but the way the squad consistently follows any positive showing with a series of poor ones, not to mention our now customary insipid first-half games (home and away), it can feel like they are prepared to collectively lurch from one excuse to another.

Silence has befallen most of the support not out of apathetic protest but the horrible realisation that the last few years of hard-fought, steady progress are unravelling before us. Maybe we were never going to build up to anything (in terms of trophies or the fabled top four) but it is progress, even mitigated like last season, that gives you hope.

Too negative perhaps? Definitely. It can’t always be onwards and upwards, things can turn around very quickly in football, and there’s a good 15 games left. And yet it is hard to shake the feeling that this team is not on a downwards spiral in the grand scheme of things.

Saying all this, we will probably beat Chelsea and draw at Arsenal over the next two weekends. The next league home game, against Blackpool, is another case entirely…

Everton 2–1 Spurs

2011-01-05T23:47:00.000Z

The same fixture last season saw Seamus Coleman make an impressive league debut as a substitute by inspiring Everton to recover from two goals down to draw 2-2.

This time the young Irishman ensured that the blues commenced their 2011 home record with all three points by capping off another barnstorming appearance with the winning goal.

Although he would probably admit himself that he isn’t the most technically gifted footballer his sheer tenacity, speed, and no-nonsense directness has made him a potent force marauding down the right-wing this season, and in turn a firm fan favourite.

It wasn’t just Coleman’s contribution that pleased; this was an commendable team performance from the blues against a much-lauded Spurs side, with best of the season stints from Louis Saha (finally breaking his duck for 10-11) and Johnny Heitinga, continued excellence at the back from Sylvain Distin and Leighton Baines, as well as a superb shift in the middle of the park from Marouane Fellaini.

We’ve had a number of false dawns looking for the turning point in what has otherwise been an immensely frustrating and disappointing season so far but hopefully, with the league still largely fragmented, we can start to put a run together from hereon.

You're a vinyl designer toy, Charlie Brown!

2011-01-03T22:45:00.000Z

Peanuts is no stranger to plastic. Over six decades of licenced merchandise has seen Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and the rest of the Peanuts gang moulded into tens of thousands of different plastic renditions – from decorative figurines, to Kinder Egg toys, action figures, Fisher Price People, and more series of McDonalds Happy Meal toys than possibly even Ronald is aware of.

But we now live in the age of designer toys; precision crafted and painted often by human hand instead of by machine, made from superior quality materials such as vinyl (but not records), and typically produced in limited quantities. They’re also automatically expensive, at least in the western world, under some hidden tax based upon the implied belief that they’re more acceptable to own as an adult (to those who may frown upon such things) with the pretence that they’re collectables or for display, as opposed to a child’s plaything.

That’s not to say you can’t play with them, nor that they can’t be enjoyed by children (age permitting). For the most part they are simply toys with added awesomeness.

Thankfully Peanuts has not been left behind in this bold new frontier establishing toys as an art-form. Medicom Toy Inc. of Japan are one of the foremost manufacturers of designer toys. Their success is largely down to their popular Lego mini-figure influenced Kubrick and Be@rbrick figure series which have featured designs covering a wide selection of pop-cult characters from the realms of Disney, Marvel, and Star Wars.

In 2006 Medicom moved on from the world’s most famous mouse to the world’s most famous beagle and created the ‘Snoopy Showcase’ series for it’s Kubrick line.

There doesn't seem to be much information in English on the series, and neither Medicom's official site (in Japanese) nor Snoopy.co.jp chronicle the full line, so I’ve painstakingly researched it all for the good of the internet.

Kubrick Snoopy Showcase

The Snoopy Showcase series is made up of 6 volumes (or sets), plus an additional pre-launch variation of the first, incorporating a total of 11 different figures.

Each volume includes a Snoopy (well, it is Snoopy Showcase after all) plus another character or, in the case of Volume 2 and Volume 6, a version of Snoopy’s doghouse.

Charlie Brown, Lucy Van Pelt, Linus Van Pelt, and of course Snoopy’s faithful avian friend Woodstock are all featured. Only Woodstock is depicted to scale (to the comic strips) in relation to Snoopy, and is a fixed smaller size figure as opposed to a standard Kubrick. In keeping with the Kubrick format the human characters are the same height as Snoopy.

Snoopy is famous as the dog of many guises and the series covers some of his most well-known personas including The Literary Ace (complete with typewriter), WWI Flying Ace, Astronaut Snoopy (with transparent helmet), Joe Cool (with eponymous shades) and The World Famous Attorney (with hat and briefcase). The iconic pose of ‘normal’ Snoopy lying on his doghouse is also catered for.

Snoopy’s doghouse has two iterations: one that accommodates Snoopy (or any other normal Kubrick figure for that matter) sitting down – which is appropriately bundled with a WWI Flying Ace Snoopy figure (Volume 2) – and another that accommodates Snoopy lying down that has a curved depression designed to fit his head (Volume 6). Both doghouses are hollow with the roof removable - ideal for storing secret things!

Like most Kubricks each figure (Woodstock excluded) measures approximately 70-80mm in height and features some basic points of articulation. Arms are attached by rotatable (albeit loose) ball joints, legs can bend forwards independently, and heads can turn and pivot slightly. Each Snoopy has a tail that is attached by a ball joint. For the smiling Snoopy included in Volume 6 to be able to rest on top of the doghouse correctly his tail must be detached. Snoopy’s ears can also rotate in the figures that feature them. Woodstock’s only point of movement is that his head can twist direction.

Unlike most Kubricks the Snoopy Showcase series is a deluxe special edition packaged in pre-stated windowed boxes and not blind-boxed (sealed in a solid box without the figure inside stated).

In addition to the figures each volume also includes an accompanying A5 size short edge binding booklet with 20 or so full colour glossy pages. The typical content of these booklets includes Peanuts strip extracts, interviews and comments from Japanese celebrities and popular culture icons, and a showcase of Snoopy merchandise available in Japan at that time – including some very lavish and exclusive goods. Obviously all text featured, minus character names, is in Japanese.

All volumes retailed at a recommended 1,980 yen, pre-tax, which is roughly £15.36 (or $23.76 / €18.26) at time of typing. As with all Kubrick collections the Snoopy Showcase series was produced in limited numbers and is never to be re-released.

Joe 0

To kick-off the series a special pre-launch Volume 0 was released. Kubricks are limited edition lines as standard but production of Volume 0 was restricted to just 2000 units (although not individually numbered).

Volume 0 is identical in contents to Volume 1 aside from two differences: the Snoopy figure has a black collar instead of a red one, and the included booklet is also different (and shorter at 12 pages compared with the usual 20 or so).

It was only available from a specific retailer, FamilyMart convenience stores, and for a limited time from September 28th 2006 – roughly a month prior to the release of Volume 1 on October 26th 2006.

From what I can gather it was sold from a selected 700 of FamilyMart’s 6900 stores at that time. Were the stores picked at random or known/advertised to customers? Was it a random or lottery based prize for those who had pre-ordered Volume 1 at each store? Or was it for the first couple of customers to get their pre-orders in? Unfortunately I haven’t been able to ascertain the nature of how they were allocated.

The mysterious disappearance of Peppermint Patty

Medicom’s concept art and the back cover of the booklets included with both Volume 0 and Volume 1 (shown below) depict an 12th Kubrick figure for the series in Peppermint Patty.

There’s not a scrap of evidence that she was released to consumers at all - whether at retail or as an ultra rare promotional special. These are the only images or text where she is included.

Unless the booklet photo is a mock-up she must’ve existed at least in prototype form. It is not uncommon for Medicom to alter their production line-ups so it may simply have been a case of removing a less known/liked character based upon consumer feedback as production started, or perhaps a need to restrict the line to 6 releases.

All other figures shown (in the concept art above) are accounted for so if we were to assume all other Snoopy plus another character sets remained unchanged it could be suggested that perhaps Peppermint Patty was to be bundled with WWI Flying Ace Snoopy, with a ‘normal’ Snoopy originally to be included with the sitting version of his dog house as depicted.

Thoughts

Although many a Kubrick series finds its way through import to specialist UK high-street retailers such as either of the Forbidden Planet chains only the first and second volumes of the Snoopy Showcase series found our shores and have long since disappeared. This said, Volume 1 and 2 are still available (at time of typing) from the UK-based online designer toy emporium Dinkybox. Volume 1 is also still available from the equally cool France-based store artoyz. Both shops are well priced and will ship worldwide.

My personal collection includes all of the volumes except volume 6 (if you’ve got one available, please let me know). Yes, some of them are open. Yes, I have had them out of the boxes to well, play with them! I’m quite happy to admit that they are pretty darn superb. Spindly arms aside they respond quite well to poses and look ace when displayed. Paintwork isn’t perfect, and the joins/mould lines are not always seamless but for the price they were originally sold for you can’t really expect much better.

It’s a great shame both that they are so hard to find, and that the line was not extended to include further characters such as Sally, Marcie, Schroeder, Spike, and Peppermint Patty if she was indeed omitted as I’m assuming. A Kubrick-size Woodstock would have been good too, even if the scale in relation to Snoopy would’ve been thrown off.

It also would’ve been interesting to see which of Snoopy's diverse array of alter-egos they would have gone for next. Beagle Scout Leader? Tennis Ace? Seasonal ones like the Easter Beagle and Santa Snoopy? Random ones like Vulture Snoopy? We’ll never know.

The good news is, although the Snoopy Showcase series may not have continued Medicom was not done with Peanuts yet. Their ‘WE LOVE PEANUTS!’ vinyl collectable doll range is much bigger, badder (as in cool bad), and best of all they are still available. I shall cover them in future.

Thanks for reading.

Chucks away!

2011-01-02T22:50:00.001Z

For a chunk of the formative years of my life I survived with one pair of shoes. A trusty, well-worn pair of black Dr Martens boots. Whether it was at school, playing football, formal occasions, sleeping - they were practically grafted to my feet for years, even when they were falling apart and at least one size too small.

I wasn’t making a statement. I didn’t dress to match or fit the look in any way you may imagine – be it goth or skinhead. I was just clueless (although I’m still clueless now, of course). Fashion, trends, the brands in vogue, trainers styles, were alien to me. I liked DM’s because of my older sister, who had hit her teens during the grunge-era and passed me down an earlier pair. I liked them because I could stomp through puddles without a worry. I felt less ill-at-ease with them on, and not just in the face of very shallow reservoirs of water.

My DMs continued to serve me well but eventually I had to move on. I had always been fond of Converse Chuck Taylors, or Chucks as they are nicknamed, so when I started to come into disposable income they were what I bought. The problem is I didn’t just buy a pair or two.

For a few years I went a bit mental and amassed over 30 pairs. The vast majority were used off eBay (albeit barely worn before you starting reading anything sinister into that) but even if they hadn’t cost me that much it was still way more shoes than any rational sane person should need. I had enough to wear a different pair every day of the month, and I did just that upon occasion. Even to work. Often coordinated with t-shirts. I do not doubt that I seemingly looked a right wally, but cared not as I had accepted that I was always destined to look as such to most people long before this episode.

Was I making up for all those years of self-imposed exile from shoe diversification? Probably. Was this my attempt to get noticed? If it was I must’ve been conspiring against myself because it was never going to paint me in a more positive light to anyone except maybe Snoop Dogg. Has anyone ever made a cry for help using shoes?

If that’s what my subconscious was up to it failed. If anything I got more comments when I curtailed wearing chucks day-in, day-out. The love affair was, for whatever reason, over. When your bedroom starts to look like an abandoned shoe shop it’s time to stop.

Over the last year I have progressively got rid of all but 3 pairs and I may whittle that down further (although not literally as it’d be quite messy) to a solitary pair.

I rewarded myself with a new pair of 8-eyelet Dr Martens, thus completing the circle on my narrow but plentiful journey of shoe discovery. They’re not fully worn in yet but they’re getting there. The sad thing is they just don’t feel the same, and I don’t mean in terms of comfort due to the aforementioned newness. Maybe it’s because modern DMs are no longer made in the UK.

Maybe I haven’t jumped in enough puddles yet. Maybe I’m just old.

I’m not looking back but I want to look around me now

2011-01-01T20:37:00.001Z

I still use an email address I’ve had since 1996 and another I’ve had since 2003. Between them I have some 37,000 emails. Yes, 37,000. And that’s not including spam.

Sounds like a lot, but it breaks down to 7 per day over what will be the 15 years since I started using the internet in earnest. I’ve probably purged several thousand more too prior to the point at which free inboxes grew bigger than meagre size limits like 5mb/10mb/50mb. Once the floodgates opened on near unlimited storage the need to keep things in check disappeared.

And yet for a few years now every so often I’ve felt the urge to sort them out. Alas, I don’t have the guts to just delete huge chunks of them en mass. Every time I try I inevitably end up reading them (albeit, not all 37,000 obviously).

But those 15 years of emails are not peppered with insight and cherished memories. It’s like looking back on a lazily kept diary that other people have scribbled in. Not so much a cathartic trip down memory lane but a stark reminder of just how much complete dribble can be traced back to you.

With this in mind I’d like to take a moment to apologise for pretty much everything I have ever typed to someone, or indeed published online in whatever form.

Enthusiasm for de-cluttering disappears when faced with such an avalanche of regret so it’s still all there being kept begrudgingly for prosperity and the benefit of no one.

Even if I were to delete it all I'm sure it'll be backed up somewhere for the purposes of data mining and profiling - if not by nefarious corporations but the powers that be. I've seen Sneakers, The Net, Hackers, and Enemy of the State. I know what's going on.

If, in this age of technology and growing dependence on the internet within everyday life, information is power as much as knowledge is then it won’t just be the state of the planet that future generations will have to clean up – it’s the state of our digital universe.

The amount of crap that can or could potentially be attributed back to individuals, whether they like it or not (lame attempts at anonymity and proxies withstanding), is stupefying. Just think of the horrific narcissistic mess the digital archaeologists of future generations are going to be saddled with.

These days people methodically research birth, marriage, and death certificates and the like to trace their family tree and get some idea of the lives of their ancestors. In 50 years they’ll have unimaginably vast archives of emails and social networking sites to wade through.

Our great, great, great-grandchildren will be able to piece together the first thing you bought from Amazon, what you had for dinner on April 2nd 2009 (as Tweeted), whether you thought Inception was the bestest film ever or convoluted toss courtesy of your blog, and other such exciting titbits. Family trees will be superseded by social networking friend lists potentially mapping out not just your nearest and dearest by bloodlines but everyone you possibly knew, or knew by association, or were part of some Jammer Dodger Appreciation Society group on Facebook with.

The linking of your ancestors friends lists from Facebook, MySpace, Bebo and so on is going to bring new meaning to the idea of six degrees of separation. I appreciate most people in the western world can probably be linked in less than six *now* but in the future the ever-increasing connectedness of human beings will have reached a point upon which we’re all related far closer than most of us would prefer.

Instead of the future equivalent of (or possibly cybernetic) Tony Robinson and co digging up artefacts in a trench perhaps there will be shows where they use all this digital footprint to relive the essence of your life through a Star Trek: TNG era style holodec or virtual reality setup. Maybe it’ll be a bit like the premise of Assassin's Creed but a tad less exhilarating, i.e. doing the weekly shop in Tesco instead of killing Knights Templars in medieval Jerusalem (although granted, if you do your shopping mid-day on a Saturday the two aren’t that dissimilar).

People have kept diaries, journals, photo albums, and various other means with which to collate the aspects of their life for centuries but it’s only within the last decade that people have had the means, and willingness, to transcribe every damned little thing to share with the world. In this regard I am part of the problem.

This blog has been around for over 10 years now – although admittedly abandoned for a good half of that period. Everything has changed, and yet nothing has changed. It’s not even mildly interesting for me, and that’s one of the reasons why I gave up on it. That and because my life is desperately dull. But this year I’m going to give it another go. I enjoyed this once even if looking back makes me cringe.

Lucky you, people of the future.

I think you’re constipated. In your fucking soul.

2010-02-02T23:50:00.000Z

“I think you might have a really big load of grumpy, petrified poop up your soul’s ass.”

Cuss-words aside I imagine that might be the kind of thing Lucy would be surmising to Charlie Brown if he were visiting her Psychiatric Help booth at the same juncture of his life as my own.

I’ve had similar sentiments directed at me, although never with such sincere eloquence. And never at the cost of 5 cents.

I will not pretend that there are insufficient grounds for such stark estimation but, in my defence, I’m just trying to get on with the humdrum drudgery.

The night before I dreamt that day suddenly turned to night, accompanied by that scary all-consuming pure silence experienced only in nightmares. I looked up at a glowing full moon, visible craters and all, only to see it suddenly implode as if having been destroyed by hidden entities unknown. Massive smoke engulfed pieces were hurtling towards me. And I didn’t move. Not couldn’t. Didn’t.

Despite this possible prophetic forewarning of impending doom this year was actually one of the best of recent times – helped, in part, by the fact that there was cake and jelly, and things to open.

23 Threadless T-Shirts is too many

2009-01-26T20:26:00.001Z

...to show as a photo montage, but just enough to make a terribly bad stop-motion clip.

Merii Kurisumasu

2008-12-24T11:58:00.001Z

Zack and Miri Make a Porno

2008-12-10T19:23:00.002Z

...is probably my favourite film of the year. Despite the title it's perhaps the most mainstream Kevin Smith film to date (be it in plot, dialogue, or execution) and yet it still retains just enough crass View Askew hallmarks to cut the mustard for fans like myself. Saying that, it's not that silly, there's no surprise, and it does start to meander into saccharine 'rom-com' territory, but heck, it provides heart-felt reassurance for losers. I'm not ashamed to admit that I need that every so often.

The End Is the Beginning Is the End

2008-08-10T00:52:00.002+01:00

This is not an accurate depiction of my o-face, nor my /b/-face for that matter, but it isn't far off representing the internal grimace of anguish that is my prequels-face.

Why George? Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry?

European Capital of Cranes 2008

2008-03-30T20:04:00.002+01:00

Liverpool city centre has been like a giant construction site for the past few years, so much so it was as if everything was residing below a canopy of colossal steel trees. It's not so bad now that various projects are being completed all the time but you'd still be hard pressed to find a open landscape view that doesn't contain a crane.

Liverpoolaroids

2008-03-22T20:18:00.002Z

Liverpool + Polaroids = Liverpoolaroids. Or, to elaborate further, a project chronicling Polaroid photos of Liverpool - it's people, places, and *essence* captured through the medium of instant photography.

It was one of a plethora of ideas myself and a friend had planned to celebrate the city of Liverpool's year as European Capital of Culture 2008. Unfortunately it never really got off the starting blocks due to a lack of time, money, and the fact that we are both notoriously bad at not seeing these kind of things through to the end.

I will go back to it in future though. The name is too snazzy not to.

Till then, feel free to cast your eyes upon some overtly underwhelming shots of the Albert Dock, the world famous heritage site, in splendid super-expired Polaroid-o-vision...

Mac(ro)Lovin'

2008-03-18T00:55:00.002Z

Because my lust for Polaroid cameras knows no earthly bounds I couldn't resist getting myself a Polaroid Macro 5 SLR when the opportunity passed by. I like it because it's shaped like an underwater scuba camera and has the best zoom of any Polaroid integral-film based camera - a whopping 300% magnification (extendable to 500% with a further attachment that I have yet to acquire). It was also the most expensive instant camera Polaroid ever produced, with an original RRP a penny shy of £650.

It's designed primarily for use by dentists, surgeons, and for medical documentation - none of which I'm likely to dabble in, yet it was still addressed to me with Dr. as my title all the same. I guess they assumed that a non-physician couldn't possibly have a use for it.

Their prognosis was wrong.

'Gekijōban Dōbutsu no Mori' - good film based upon a videogame SHOCKER!!!

2008-03-16T23:11:00.003Z

[Or, in English, 'Animal Forest: The Movie' - Animal Forest, of course, being the (literal) translated name of the Nintendo game series known to the Western world as Animal Crossing.]

Feature film interpretations of videogames, be they live action or animated affairs, have a notoriously poor reputation with gamers and movie lovers alike for good reason - that pretty much every single one to date has been complete pants. The biggest problem is that massive liberties are taken with any semblance of story or plot resulting in a situation whereby more often than not the only real relation between the film and the game that inspired it is the title. Some would argue very few games have enough narrative backbone to provide for a movie proper but if you're going to bother creating something from a known licence surely the whole point of the project is to capitalise on the existing popularity by presenting fans with something vaguely familiar (let alone extended canon) via a theatrical medium? If we were to assume that is the ideal working definition of a movie based upon a videogame then I (half) seriously believe the Animal Crossing movie is the first truly good example and perhaps the first game-derived film to break the pants mould that has, erm, been festering for many years now.

So why is it good? In a nutshell the Animal Crossing movie is immensely faithful to the source material - specifically the most recent game in the series, 'Animal Crossing: Wild World' for the Nintendo DS - while remaining plausibly enjoyable viewing regardless of prior experiences. It successfully captures the look, feel, and charm of the infectiously colourful world perfectly; mirroring the games by managing to be engrossing, endearing, casually paced, and even, dare I say, relaxing.

Much like the premise of the game the story revolves around a girl moving to town, her trials and tribulations over the seasons as she integrates herself into life with the locals, and the importance of friendship. 'Cherry pie' is also integral to the plot, as is a special event that can occur in the game. It's hardly Shakespeare but then it's not like the bard's work has succeeded much making the opposite journey...

The attention to detail in transforming the game to big screen is unrivalled. It is evident that quite a lot of thought has gone into incorporating as much of the game as possible by encompassing almost all of the gameplay aspects, locations, major characters, and the original soundtrack. References are made to pretty much everything you can experience in the game - from clothes designing, letter writing, messages in bottles, bug catching, fishing, pitfalls, to the Happy Room Academy, gyroids, fossils, feng shui, festivals, and more. Components of interaction with the animal neighbours such as emotion symbols, questions, and bizarre randomness could easily have been overlooked during the crossover but work with good effect - heck, there are even pieces of dialogue that have been lifted directly from the game. While we're passing the subject of dialogue I should mention, however, that the characters speak in Japanese and not the native tongue of 'Animalese' found in the games. An understandable omission but purists will be happy to learn that K.K. Slider's singing voice remains authentic!

Nintendo and it's animation partner have managed to do the seemingly impossible by amalgamating a relatively original story within an accurately repackaged essence of a gaming world/scenario without detracting or deviating massively from the game itself. The graphical style of the Animal Crossing series obviously lends itself perfectly to a seamless transition to anime, and the fact that the games are relatively open-ended with user defined main characters means there is no real fixed story to emulate or stand up against in expectations. But I guess the most pleasing factor that counters those points is that it doesn't feel forced. It plays out more like unobtrusive fan-service than a marketing exercise or what could have amounted to a feature-length advert, providing satisfying viewing for anyone who has played the game while at the same time remaining accessible enough and primed to entice new fans by managing to be enjoyable as a self-contained whole to those who haven't. Just compare it with the regurgitated nature of the merchandise motivated Pokémon films - the last (and still continuing!) Nintendo franchise to receive cinematic treatment.

The frustrating part is 15 months after release it has still yet to be available outside of Japan and sadly, despite the relatively high popularity of Animal Crossing in Europe and the U.S., that will probably never change. You can, however, watch it on Youtube or download it via a torrent.

Animal Crossing, Harvest Moon, and LIFE

'Animal Crossing: Wild World' is truly an awesome game but I must confess I haven't played it in almost a year. Wry? Unfortunately I went into overkill on it. As a result of my intensive agricultural reforms I managed to fully pay off Tom Nook within 2 months of playing it for less than an hour a day. After this my motivation was spent: the all-consuming mission to become completely debt-free was gone and I was left with the relatively long-drawn quests to befriend every possible neighbour, and the painfully restrictive task of finishing off the various collections. Unfortunately neither of those two achievements are legitimately possible (assuming no online trade) without dedicated daily play for in excess of a calendar year, which is quite frankly too much to give to a game that starts to offer a compelling, if somewhat depressing, overview of modern life. How so? Capitalism rules the coop, mortgages bleed you to death, even the closest friendships can end abruptly (and randomly at that), and existence can be summarised as the never-ending pursuit of stuff. Still, I guess it's not as harsh as the equally addictive 'Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town' which echoes reality further by highlighting the mundane and repetitive nature of the daily grind (whereas you don't actually work as such in Animal Crossing), as well as the harsh fact that girls may only become interested in you after you've showered them with flattery over a period of years and spent every penny you've made (from the aforementioned sadistically arduous jobs) on them. Oh, that and the revelation that sprites are addicted to flour (ba-dum). Never did a game so unashamedly and sadistically repetitive in nature have so much hidden depth and charm. It's just a shame every Harvest Moon game since has been not so much a considerable backwards step but a backwards roll down a large hill into a ravine.

I tried to rock you but you only roll

2008-03-15T15:27:00.003Z

The last few weeks I've been treated to sessions of (the as-yet-unreleased in the UK) Rock Band on the PeeSss3, courtesy of Mr Ray and Mr Adam, and assisted by fellow 'band' members Mr Sy and Mr Robin.

Due to being (or at least feeling like) one of the world's worst Guitar Hero players I shocked the oblivious music press by somewhat surprisingly taking on the mantle of vocalist. Yes, it truly was M-i-k-e on the m-i-c as I brought my unique blend of no-discernible-singing-voice and tone deafness into the fray with attempts at emulating the likes of Thom Yorke, Rivers Cuomo, and Karen-O - including a particularly heartfelt rendition of 'Maps' by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's. Well, it was heartfelt for me anyway...

Still, it's great fun and even though I lack the fist-clenching stage presence and ad-lib ability of some, I can comfortably hold my own on Hard without murdering the songs beyond playability. Perhaps I need to master the drums before I can be the next Dave Grohl - although given recent performances with the sticks this may be a long time coming as I have all the rhythm and hand co-ordination of a drunk in a straightjacket in zero gravity.

And after the game is over we pay homage to indulgent rock hedonism with ice cream and Oreos, which while I have to admit may not be as deviant as mind-altering substances and awe-struck underage groupies, is quite delicious all the same.

Rock on.

Amber

2008-03-10T20:38:00.002Z

Amber passed away today.

She was a wonderful cat. Timid but affectionate, attentive but undemanding. Her purr incorporated a happy chirp; her meow felt polite. She could also talk, although sadly it wasn't always decipherable to her humans.

She was a good friend. For many an hour she would sleep on my Snoopy mat or patrol my bay window, listening - being my ever-willing muse. She would sit stretched on your lap all day if you had the time to spare, and wait patiently until you did.

I miss her desperately already.

9131 days and counting

2008-02-02T23:51:00.002Z

...which is the last twenty-five years. That's over 13 million minutes or 219 thousand hours of existence, and almost two thirds of a billion Wheetos consumed. Good grief!

Today I set the toaster on fire with waffles, ate copious amounts of gourmet jelly beans, got some Snoopy goodies, and a Lego lunchbox, and this season's Everton home shirt - thankfully minus my name and age on the back. I then made tiffin with peanut butter chocolate, sherbet flying saucers, and enough marshmallows to bathe in.

Life? I could lament the disheartening lack of personal 'positive change' within the last decade (meh!), the great many stupid things I've done (bleh!), the hopes I had for now that never came close to fruition (sigh!), and the fears that persist (rar!) but if I ignore everything else except the basics of being (so that's my mental and physical health, family & friends, and good ol' EXISTENCE) then I guess it's going pretty well thank you. Hopefully I'll continue to be around long enough to report back with an unprecedented and overwhelmingly positive reflection of the next 25 years, that is, assuming I don't die beforehand in a toaster fire caused by jammed waffles.

How to make: A Craptastic Warp Pipe Wii Tidy

2008-01-26T22:40:00.001Z

For all the wonders of the Nintendo Wii I have to admit I feel as if it's contributed to making me a messier gamer. Just like the curse that typically befalls the TV remotes that influenced the Wii Remote design I find it difficult to keep my Wiimotes in an organised or obvious place and so they either end up strewn across the floor or in a tangled mess, with straps and nunchuk leads entwined, precariously balanced on top of the TV. Unfortunately the age-old technique of rolling up your pads around their leads and placing them on top of the console when not in use is rendered obsolete with the Wii - a wireless system that is typically vertically aligned (and only an inch and a half wide in that configuration). Okay, so it's not quite as big a problem as the ever-deepening global financial crisis but it bothers me. My Wiimotes need, nay *demand*, somewhere to live, so I started to look into the many storage solutions available.

The various 3rd party offerings are indeed plentiful in number but almost all can be described as chunks of plastic of varying degrees of rubbishness. Major problems and flaws include:

No jackets allowed - They do not take into consideration the new protective Wii Remote Jackets so Wii Remotes will not fit in any holder with one on.
'Chuks away - Most of them don't cater for your nunchuks, and if they do, they only accommodate 1 and usually in an ineffective way at that (such as a open tray area).
Three's a crowd - Got more than 2 Wii Remotes? Tough cookie. You'll have to buy another cradle/stand/charger/organiser/tidy.
Excellent! ...not - They usually incorporate features that are forced upon you that you'd rather not have - such as a rack for a few games (woo!), or an inferior looking (and built) replacement Wii stand.
Plastic fantastic - Tacky cheap plastic construction.
Whiter whites? - You can understand the obsession with white as it's the only colour the Wii is available in (so far) but when the colour (of white!) or sheen doesn't have the same look as the Wii itself it only serves to underline the crapiness.
Airbags cost extra - They just hold your peripherals and don't really house them in a protective, caring way befitting of your investment.
We don't want your kind - Classic Controller? Gamecube Pads? Gamecube memory cards? They'll have to go elsewhere...
Chaaaarge! - Most incorporate or are intended primarily as (rather lacking) Wii Remote battery chargers. For me this is a bit needless considering I already have a 15 minute AA battery charger that is far quicker than any of these devices anyway. As effortless as a charging dock style system may be, if it takes hours to charge and then the charge doesn't last for long the hassle of actually removing batteries to put them in an external *good* charger is a price worth paying.

Perhaps the best of the bunch is Nyko's rather wacky 'Wii Party Station' which incorporates a hand-cooling fan, digital score counters, cup/can coolers, chip (or crisps to us Brits) tray with dip section, and a small tray to hide a nunchuk or two, into a stand that will house 4 Wii Remotes (making it pretty much the only one that does). Sadly it's not yet available in the UK (boooo!) although I guess if it was it'd retail for something stupid like £30+ which quite frankly is way too much, especially as I'm not that big a fan of chips and dips.

So what's a guy to do when there's not a ready-made product available to suit his needs? Yep, it's time to jerry-rig something together! My first instinct was to construct something inexplicably complicated and elaborate from Lego but then I had a Blue Peter/Art Attack moment, as I often do (perhaps due to an undetected tumour in my brain), and decided to create something from everyday household items. What came to mind is a shockingly simple but effective solution which involves recycling and is customisable to your requirements (your number of Wii Remotes, nunchuks, and other storage needs). The title and header image for this post totally ruined the surprise but yeah, my idea was to create a tidy inspired by the warp-pipes found in Mario games.

You will need:

The painting ability of at least the average 1 year old.
Paint - in applicably Mario-esque primary colours. Green is mandatory.
Cardboard tubes - Ensure they are suitably wide for your needs. I used parcel tape tubes stuck together.
Flat cardboard - for the base and to roll around the tubes for the pipe rims.
Glue - to bind things together and to peel off your fingers.
Thin foam wrap/Bubble wrap - to line the tubes with.
Thick foam wrap/Bubble wrap - to have at the bottom of the tubes.

I haven't included any photos from during construction but I'm sure you can envisage it being as epic as the building of the new Wembley Stadium. I used 3 layers of cardboard cut to A4 for the base, the upper two of which were cut into around where I wanted the tubes so that they could be embedded in securely for a rigid, glue-less fit (if you use the same size tubes this could also make things interchangeable). The rest is pretty self-explanatory: Make your tubes, add the rim details (which I admittedly only did for the green pipes!), paint, once dry insert/stick into base, add some foam/bubble wrap to the bottom of the tubes, and line tubes with foam/bubble wrap.

The result may be the kind of thing you'd expect a child at primary school to make but it does the task it was designed for admirably. Everything fits quite nicely; even the awkward back row that houses a Gamecube memory card, Wavebird receiver, and an empty Wii Remote Jacket (for the Wiimote in my Guitar Hero III guitar) in one side, and a Wavebird in the other. Granted, it's not the most snug fit but it keeps it in it's place and it's unlikely to fall out. You could easily do the same for a Classic Controller.

Some further ideas:

Garnish with some of Corgi's Mario mini figures. Is there a Piranha plant/Pete one?
Incorporate a darker shaded area to the pipes to add definition just like the pixel originals.
Use paint that isn't poster paint intended for toddlers.
For a more authentic plumbing look you could use plastic tubing.

It's not perfect but it's solved my problem, cost me practically nothing, doesn't look too stupid next to my Wii, and I've probably spent more time writing about it in this post than it took to make. Tune in next week for my Guitar Hero III Guitar stand made out of toilet roll tubes and yogurt pots.

Try it yourself, a craptastic Warp Pipe Wii Tidy.

Everton 1 - 0 Man City

2008-01-12T22:49:00.001Z

Not exactly a thriller but it could prove to be a pivotal victory in the race for European qualification. I'm sure the media will tell a story of a gritty and slender Everton victory but restricting a close rival (in league terms) to practically no chances is down to more than just defensive doggedness. It was all more pleasing too considering we had five top-quality key players missing in Yakubu, Yobo, Pienaar (African Nations Cup duty), Johnson, and Osman (Injuries). We're now also on equal points with some team who wear red, although they have a game in hand and a few referees bribed (Hello, Mr Clattenberg).

My Man-of-the-Match: Phil Neville. Another typically committed Neville performance - closed-down everywhere, energetic from start to finish, determined to the end, and desperate to win; all within the midst of some predictable baiting from the away fans.

J'ai des bons-bons pour vous mangez

2008-01-11T23:06:00.001Z

Some random sweeties related thoughts:

Would it be outrageous to suggest that the phasing out of Smarties lids is a major contributing factor to the current child illiteracy crisis?
Are the albino white Smarties just the banned blue Smarties that have passed over a conveyor-belt of warm hands so that they've lost their colour?
If I had access to a time-machine one of the first things I'd do is go back 30 years or more to see for myself if Wagon Wheels biscuits truly used to be sized anywhere between that of a dinner plate and the approximate dimensions of a genuine wild-west wagon wheel, depending on how much your parent(s) like to exaggerate.
I bought 24 Kinder Eggs at Christmas with the intention of stacking them up into a pyramid on a silver platter like Ferrero Rocher and offering them to colleagues. I decided against it in the end however because the gesture, and financial outlay, would've sadly been lost on most of them.

"Why Ambassador, with all these Kinder Eggs you are really spoiling us!"

Too right, they're like 55p each!

Selling my sanity

2008-01-10T22:34:00.001Z

"Selling your Sanity - The candid, no-holds-barred thoughts of an eBay UK 'veteran'. Real advice and tips for buyers and sellers minus the BS."

That was going to be my eBay related blog.

There are numerous books and guides that give people a perfect-world situation outlook on all things eBay but they generally seem to gloss over the gritty reality that it is very much a hive of scum and villainy. These same authors are also too afraid to insult their audience by reminding (if not preaching to) them the various points of common sense that seem to be so lacking in so many members. But heck, enough of my time is already spent dedicated to eBay related activities so I'll reserve whatever outbursts I feel inclined to make for here. Rejoice!

As sad as it may, and undoubtedly will, sound eBay was all-consuming for me in 2007. The local Post Office became practically my second home, I sold way more items than there were days, I was a PowerSeller more months than I wasn't, and my positive feedback surpassed 1000 so I've now got a red star like I'm part of the Communist Party.

You'd be forgiven for thinking at this point that I really LOVE eBay but the truth is it's more akin to a sadistic addiction that causes me much strife (a bit like watching Everton under the later years of Walter Smith's reign then). Sure, I do enjoy making money and making things a little bit special for people beyond what would otherwise be cold and faceless transactions, but I absolutely despise the hassle of listing things, sending them, being messed around, and - worst of all - dealing with a great many incredibly stupid and ignorant people. It leads me to believe I may well ultimately pay with my sanity rather than the eBay norm of PayPal.

Suffice to say I've had grief by the bucket load. So much I've almost drowned in it at times. It's just a shame I can't bottle it up and sell it eh?

One 'L' of a lens

2008-01-09T22:08:00.001Z

A chance online encounter with a thoroughly delightful acquaintance of years past convinced me to buy an EF 70-200mm f/4 L USM lens - my first piece of serious glass since I last dropped a milk bottle.

They didn't mean it, and they certainly don't know it, but their brief encouragement coupled with that pesky life-changing enthusiasm of the beckoning new year saw me completely ignore my better instincts to want-desperately-but-never-buy long enough to spend far more than I can ever really justify unless, of course, I win some kind of WORLD'S BEST PHOTO EVER! competition.

It's 'entry-level' as far as Canon's professional grade lenses go, in that it doesn't cost more than two weeks in Disney World (sadly that really is the first thing that comes to mind when I think of something that costs thousands). It's also heavier than anything I've ever used, in fact I can barely lift it one-handed - although I guess that's not saying much when you consider that I often have trouble holding shopping. I think I'm going to call it Charlotte. Why? Because there's an L in it. And it cost a lot *cue comedy drum sound* (oh dear...). I guess it's not so disturbing to be naming this lens (I'm only unhinged because of the others), what with the substantial financial outlay and all, surely it is forgivable to expect some kind of personal relationship with it beyond that of a functional object? And no, I don't mean in *that* way, nor is that why I've given it a female name!

Of course a very good lens does not automatically make for superior photos per se, but as someone who is very critical of his own work it helps reduce the number of nonsensical reasons for me to think my photos are to photography what blindfolded crayoning is to fine art.

So yeah, sod it, I'm going for it this year. Chasing the dream on an investment drive to nowhere. The journey is destined to end with disillusionment but the photos along the way will be far better (in resolution at least).

2007 A.D. - A few of my favourite things...

2008-01-08T19:18:00.001Z

Because it's tradition, and one of the unwritten BLOGGING COMMANDMENTS, to do these list things around the turn of the year. So without further ado, in no particular order and off the top of my head...

Movies

The Science of Sleep
The Darjeeling Limited
Ratatouille
Hot Fuzz
Eagle vs. Shark

Games

Super Mario Galaxy
Legend of Zelda: The Phantom Hourglass
Guitar Hero III - Legends of Rock
Phoenix Wright 3: Trials and Tribulations
Wii Play Tanks

Music

The White Stripes - Icky Thump
Radiohead - In Rainbows
Fall Out Boy - Infinity On High (at least I'm being honest!)
Klaxons - Myths of the Near Future
Digitalism - Idealism

Other Things

Everton's UEFA Cup adventure
Still being alive
My new bike
Vicky Park Select F.C.
Snoopy Kubricks

Perhaps heartstrings resuscitate the fading sounds of your life

2008-01-07T23:58:00.001Z

I'm Mike D and I'm back from the dead (in terms of this blog anyway). Alas, however, as I haven’t been chillin’ on the beach down at Club Med. No Sir-ee. The only chillin’ I’ve been doing is in the freezer section of Morrisons. That’s not to say I have been an employee there, nor that I have been climbing into the freezers, it’s just that I always struggle to take less than a few minutes making a decision on which variety of Ben & Jerry’s to purchase.

Since I last felt compelled to report in so much has changed and so much has happened, yet for the most part there’s very little to say that would surprise you – unless of course this is your first sampling of my inane ramblings. Don’t get me wrong; I'm a little older (physically), a little wiser (allegedly), and more than a little bit fleshed-out as a person (as opposed to say, as a squirrel) but I’m still very much mistaken. About a great many things. And I’ve not yet managed to cleanse myself of the delusions of grandeur and hopeful idealism that has so frequently lead me to dead-ends, disappointment, and despondency. That and even now, treacherously deep into my mid-20’s, genuine maturity alludes me. I have long hoped at least a few aspects of my life and being would have slotted into place by now, or there-about, but no - I am Charlie Brown’s nightmare future self, albeit with considerably more hair and considerably more Snoopy’s.

What the devil have I been up to? For a while I did absolutely nothing and it was everything I thought it could be, with the added bonus of mid-day E.R. repeats on Channel 4. I work for the government now - in a hall of records, or numbers, or spaces still undone. Or just tapes. No, it wasn’t me who managed to loose all that sensitive personal data - although I must confess I have been secretly smuggling out Post-It Notes. They’re blank though and not even genuine, branded Post-It Notes so nothing has been compromised beyond a tiny, almost immeasurably minute, amount of tax-payer’s money and if you think that’s scandalous you should see how many paperclips are thrown away everyday – perhaps enough to pay the wages of a policeman/nurse/doctor/teacher (although this is assuming they’d have no problem with being paid in paperclips).

Pray tell, why did I go away? After many years of daily use, Internet dementia was gnawing away at my soul and I was desperately tired of the broken record routine my interactions had become. I never entirely lost the inclination to write/type away about nonsensical things though. It's just the need to put them out there to all and sundry, to no-one and everyone, that flat-lined completely. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much.

But yeah, I'm back now. At the very least for my biennial short stint. Refreshed, rejuvenated, refocused, rehabilitated, and really rather ready to restart retorting relatively rubbish ramblings as part of a reasonably relaxed return. Rarrr!

And now for a few random questions people have emailed over the last few months and years:

Where can I find you online, you know, on those social networking things?

MySpace – No.
Facebook – Non.
Bebo – Nein.
Friendster – Nay.
LiveJournal – Nope.

Anything I formerly frequented has been predictably scuppered like those hapless pirates in Asterix books. Please, however, feel free to ‘network’ with me through the medium of eBay by buying my various wares. Alternatively we could exchange Wii Friend Codes and I could send you entirely inaccurate Mii’s every 6 months.

What happened to all the images?

The hosting expired about 3 years ago. It would be a lot of hassle to get them back up. Ho-hum.

What happened to all your wit/insightfulness/engaging personality/passable grasp of the English language?

'It' got fed up due to lack of use, or perhaps non-existence, and left me. If you should happen to find 'it' please send it back to me.

Have you forgotten about me?

No, you!

Merii Kurisumasu!

2007-12-24T23:21:00.000Z

Test-icular

2007-01-17T16:28:00.000Z

12345

2006-06-29T16:23:00.000+01:00

Foot. Kick. Ball. Goal!

When it comes to the best football anthems the likes of New Order's 'World in Motion' and The Lightning Seeds' 'Three Lions' will inevitably crop up in discussion but for me personally my mind will always conspire to remind me of such rare delights as 'Football Forever' by the Smurfs and
'The Footie Song' by Adam & Joe.

Although obviously tongue in cheek in many ways A&J's classic effort shows Embrace and countless others how it could and should be done... maybe.

Saying that, if it were up to me the official England song for the 2006 World Cup would've been a reworked version of Joe Esposito's ageless track 'THE BEST AROUND'.

SONIC BIRTHDAY ZONE ACT 15

2006-06-23T15:50:00.001+01:00

Happy 15th Birthday Sonic!

I would've waxed lyrical here about my personal opinions on all things Sonic, past and present, but y'know, it's not about me - it's *his* big day. So instead here's some ideas I had for the party I could've and should've had in his honour:

Food

Onion rings / the wheels from Transformer crisps = GOLD RINGS
Iced Gems = CHAOS EMERALDS
Blueberry jam = erm, SONIC JAM
Cream cheese = CREAM THE RABBIT AND CHEESE THE CHAO
Battenburg cake with green icing on top = THE SURFACE OF MOBIUS
Chili dogs and cola = Sonic's favourite food according to various non-game sources.
Dippy eggs painted like Robotnik and/or the Deathegg = THINK ABOUT IT

Decorations

Decorate rooms to resemble Sonic levels. For Green Hill fill room sporadically with tropical plants. Ice Cap Zone make room very cold and cover everything with white sheets. Chemical Planet Zone for the drug users.
Garden to be designated 'Chao Day Care' for any kids.
Have giant springs and spikes if possible.

Dress code

All guests must be dressed as Sonic characters or at the very least largely in Sonic-y shades of blue, with red shoes preferably, or other SEGA related clothing.

Activities

Disco with Sonic music!
Karaoke with Sonic vocal music!
Sonic levels music quiz!
Bash up a Robotnik pinata, but only by jumping at it head first.
Play Sonic Shuffle on the full board mode without falling asleep.
Play with Sega Lock-On and pretend you're at SEGA WORLD when it was still open :(
Bet on the Chao races in SA2.
Simultaneous play races to complete various Sonic games. With all Emeralds.
Jump on old flickering/static TVs and monitors.
Run and jump past the lights at pelican crossings having eaten 50 or more 'gold rings' in attempt to enter the special stage.
Watch Sonic X. No really.
VS mode tournament on Sonic 2.
Have issues of Sonic The Comic on hand for light reading in the toilet.
Roundtable-style debate/fight about the best and worst Sonic game.
Try not to get depressed when Shadow The Hedgehog is mentioned :(

Maybe next year eh?

Hardrock Hallelujah!

2006-05-20T23:58:00.000+01:00

Heavy metal for the win! Eurovision has never been so entertaining, or had a more worthy victor.

Now if you excuse me I'm off to prepare for the “arockalypse” on the day of rockening...

Dymos are forever

2006-05-19T14:40:00.001+01:00

In January as an early birthday present to myself I bought 50 reels of Dymo embossing tape. Now you'd be forgiven for assuming I had some grand artistic project in mind with such a random purchase but no, not me - I just like Dymo labels. I don't do anything worthwhile with them but in a way it's disturbingly comforting to know that if I ever felt the inclination I could feasibly engage in some label overkill and Dymo every object in my house, a bit like in the satirical science series 'Look Around You'.

Considering each tape is 3 meters long in length 50 tapes is more than enough to satisfy a lifetime's worth of labelling needs for the average person. Heck, that's 150m worth in total, probably enough to cover an entire wall of my room from top to bottom with the unabridged lyrics to Weezer's Pinkerton album with one word per strip piece (in alternating colours if I'd want to maintain some pretence of creativite motive; which would hopefully be enough of a cover story to keep me away from a padded cell). Thinking about it a bit more I guess I could probably fit the lyrics of the entire known Weezer back-catalogue and then some. I mean, even the smallest wall in my room is a good 5x3m, and most of the Dymo tapes are 12mm thick.

If I wanted to be a bit clever I could the arrange the colour usage so that it would display some kind of hidden image or message. What exactly? Probably 'MAKE IT STOP'.

I'm joking obviously.

Honestly.

Your best kept secret and your biggest mistake

2006-04-30T10:07:00.000+01:00

I dreamt I was getting married on the sand dunes at the top of one of the highest hills. Guests were flying kites in the background, strawberries were growing wild (!), and Weezer-y music was playing from an unknown source as everyone climbed up happily in casual suits (no ties, perhaps because I'm shit at doing them) and summery dresses for the ladies. But who was I getting married to? I don't freakin' know! Nothing so much as a clue, even if it was someone impossible. Thank you brain. No really, thank you... :(

In other news, yesterday I served Johnny Vegas on the Wild Cat. Contrary to his televised persona he didn't have a pint in his hand at the time, was quite sincere in his thanks, and to be honest didn't look that big at all. I'm not saying he wears a fat suit for TV work but if he was as big as he's often pitched he would've had some serious problems getting in and out of the ride cars that are so constrictive they were seemingly originally designed for midgets.

Perfect Hair Forever

2006-04-27T11:15:00.000+01:00

At it's longest point my hair is now about 21 inches long. Not quite Rappunzle territory just yet but it's been a long 32 months or so since I last frequented a barber shop. In the eyes of the masses it must seem like some kind of ploy at intentional and noted individualism but the truth is it's become more of a justification for paranoia (as a deflecting focal point over other possible reasons) rather than anything to do with looks.

Not surprisingly I've never been at ease with the concept of style but most especially when it comes to matters regarding my hair. I was seemingly born with vanity deprivation, and even less concern for conformity or indeed anti-conformit, and so I've generally meandered through the years arranging my hair in states most would deem an unquantifiable mess. I could argue that I've not had much attempted guidance; my father has maintained the same comb-over since the 60's, and all my siblings have flowing locks of their own. Granted two out of the four are female, but my brothers have both possessed equally long hair for several years, well before I got the guts to let it grow free-range, so I guess it was always going to feel natural for me to do the same without ever consciously deciding to so as such. But even though I'm fully aware of how inadvertently rediculous I may look to some I actually like it like this for the most part. Okay, it could look in a lot better condition, and more level in parts but it's not like I'm walking around with a steaming pile of poo on my head - which might as well be the case the way some look, act, and geer towards me.

Is hair really that big a deal? Of course not, yet in respect to men with long hair it seemingly is for many. Many decades have passed since both sexes were freed from many expected boundaries regarding how they looked and yet it's still largely assumed that to have hair beyond your shoulders as a man you must be a surfer, rock musician, stoner, or new-age hippy. Alas, I'm none of these but to be honest hair or no hair I'm too wishy-washy as a whole to be categorised with the norms or their justifiable opposition. I've had a close shave cut previously, partially motivated by a belief that some attitudes would change towards me for the better. But heck, it didn't disguise my awkward and gangly appearence; nor did it alter my personality, idiosycracies, and predlictations - who I am, and won't/can't change - and so didn't make that much difference at all. Despite this I still feel ever increasingly obliged to make supposed mature refinements to my appearence as I approach the daunting realisation of my mid-20's - presumedly to make me more employable, less of a target to the playa haters, and dare I say more appealing as a person for those who put so much stock in face value. There's a bit more to it than that however, but I've already gone on way too long so I'll conclude with a summary of my thoughts regarding the positives and negatives of having long hair, and also acceptively short. It's not strictly a case of one or the other, although I doubt I'd pull off that over the eyes and ears emo look that is all the rage with the youngsters thesedays.

Long - YAY!

Feels very 'me'.
Would look good if I could fly. Possibly.
Anime/manga/J-rock/Japanese game character styling potential.
Emergency rope material.
Potential income from natural wig cultivation.
Great for head banging.
I could be quite noticably bald in another 20 years. Might as well make the most of it now.
Relatively effortless fancy dress possibilities as Garth from Wayne's World, Worzel Gummidge, Cousin It, etc.

Long - NAY!

In the grand scheme of things it makes me look a mess (which is the truth, non?).
I don't like tying it back.
Gets in the way when eating/taking photos/doing almost everything.
Gets stuck in things/to people.
'Lifeless', brittle, and with more split-ends than the Nile delta.
Increased occurance of ever-witty blonde jokes.
Starting to feel a bit like a blonde version of Neil from The Young Ones.
Being mistaken for, and subsequently refered as, a girl. Highly disconcerting.
All those daily friendly reminders (i.e. spiteful grief, sometimes violent threats) from random strangers to get it cut.
Grunge is dead, man :(

Short - YAY! (adding to the above 'Long - NAY' points)

Being able to play football without any, erm, Alice bands and hair bobbles.
Can tell people I've had a 'cyber-razor cut'.
Not having to so much as spare a seconds thought about hair related matters for months.
Could be a catalyst for personal improvement.

Short - NAY!

Inevitably lamenting the decision until it all grows back long again.
Puts more emphasis on my ugly face and long neck.
My little nephew and nieces have never seen me any different and it could really freak them out.
Probable loss of magical powers.

Long or short? Answers on a postcard to the usual address...

Bi-Polaroids

2006-04-24T18:42:00.000+01:00

Having been considerably mentally drained from my inevitable never-say-never-again Easter school holidays sojourn in the nefarious land of pleasure I could not resist yet another aimless and whimsical eBay purchase with the money I really should be dedicating to clearing the bounty on my head (that be debts, not coconut chocolate bars unfortunately) - yet more long expired Polaroid 600 film. Fifty shots worth to be exact, to add to the 60 unused shots (I also then have 6 lots of expired I-Zone film) hiding in the deepest and darkest reaches of my wardrobe right next to my secret stash of Sherbet Fountains and my not-so-secret lacking sense of self-esteem (probably).

Within the last 12 months I've now acquired 130 shots worth for a total outlay of barely 25 squid, which is an impressive £100 less than the original RRP but still more than the broken down cost per shot compared with the combined cost of35mmm film and development. Such a relatively low outlay should free me to adopt a Lomography-style mantra of random Polaroid usage from the hip but as it stands I find myself guilty of hoarding Polaroid film like a squirrel storing nuts ahead of a long winter hibernation, albeit nuts that he's never actually going to use because he's a bit of a crazy red squirrel who is almost perpetually forlorn surrounded in this world of naturally superior grey squirrels. Curiously, he likes having the nuts around but deprives himself of them, instead waiting for some unlikely event or encounter when he won't feel like he was just using them for the sake of using them. Or something. I dunno, what with all the squirrel thoughts my mind has completely wandered on to the bit in Disney's 'The Sword in the Stone' with the two upset female squirrels. The part where Merlin is teaching Arthur about love, or at least it's baring on nature. I've always found it so sad when they change back to humans and the genuine girl squirrels are absolutely heart-broken - but let's move on because I think I should probably limit myself to only one main squirrel simile per post.

The truth is I love the concept of Polaroids but I've never felt that I've taken a good one - and I don't mean in terms of picture quality as such. I've theorised that I perhaps lack the instinctive and creative instant photography Spidey-sense that would otherwise empower me to produce more than premeditated, blurred facsimiless of shots far better served by a conventional photo. OR that I'm just a bit useless at that special kind of lo-fi composition and juxtapositionn that is the internet vogue. Sigh, but quite why I feel so inanely crappy when I don't take Polaroids to impress or show anyone, I take them largely for personal recollection and novelty, I couldn't even begin to speculate without at least charging myself for the flawed analysis. Still, I guess it's a little ironic that a form of photography that was created to provide (relatively) instant gratification has a habit of bringing upon quite the opposite in me.

Return of the (Burger) King

2006-01-30T17:33:00.001Z

I’m not old enough to recall his royal highness, the Burger King, last gracing our shores – being a child of the Kids Club era n' all - heck, I don’t even know if he’s ever appeared representing his settlements in our humble kingdom. Nevertheless he’s here and it’s evidently not just for a state visit; he’s intent on overthrowing the current ‘quick service’ (the industry’s new buzzword to purge fast-food connotations) monarch, the clown prince Ronald McDonald, by taking advantage of the disappearance of his arch-rival who has seemingly been all but excommunicated in a republican coup by his minions in the UK (aside from in his highly modified animated form) following their preoccupation with ‘Lovin’ It’ in this new millennium and more recent charm-offensive regarding the alleged health and dietary suitability of their products. But whereas the Ronald McDonald of the 80’s and 90’s was all smiles, laughter, magic, casual paedophilic activity (hello adverts of whisking children away from their parents), and occasionally the light-hearted slapstick fun you’d associate with a clown, the invading Burger King could quite possibly be the star of a horror movie...

I’m not saying he gives me nightmares but he’s not without the potential what with his rather sinister fixed expression fibreglass face, piercing stare and silent, mime demeanour - a bit like a cross between an Auton from Dr Who dressed as Henry VIII, 'V' of for Vendetta fame, and No Face from Spirited Away. Appearances aside, his behaviour does little to improve this possible creepy perception. Whether it’s instantly transporting from outside to inside your house behind you, appearing in the back of your car, or best and most disturbing of all – next to you in bed as you wake up, silently pimping his wares, he won’t take no for an answer. He wants you to have it *his* way… and quite possibly to consume your soul too. Indeed, to quote another person's take on such matters "You are going to eat his food. Because you're afraid. Afraid of the psychotic smile on his face, and of what he might do should you so politely decline his greasy offering." In the UK so far he’s been spotted jumping a bloke at a cash machine at night, and inside a private pole dancing box - y’know, one of those ones where you sit in a room like a photobooth, put some money in and the curtain raises to reveal *ahem* the action – not that I would be acquainted with such things. Notice how he nearly always strikes men when they’re alone and vulnerable, which begs the question will the next advert show him accosting a bloke on the toilet reading the sports section of the Daily Star?

Beware!

Update: I was just thinking, on a more serious note... is the Burger King’s tendency to stalk men the result of genuine perverse inclination or carefully executed and conscious marketing responsibility towards a possible effect on society (or more simply just targeted to a demographic of 18-30 men)? Imagine, if you will, if these adverts instead contained women as the potential customer/victim-of-sorts surely it wouldn’t take long before they were construed as association with situations that can be a prelude to an attack or rape, and furthermore possibly inspire imitation as an innocent cover for such an act. The dangerous consequences stack up higher when you consider the fact that in the States they have previously given away simplified replica Burger King masks as part of a promotion; fuel for a flurry of Scream/ghost-face mask style concealed crime.

This all said I'd still acquire one of the masks if I could, and not because I want to commit misdemeanours under the guise of the King, simply due to the fact that I could use it to desensitise myself from finding him more than a little disturbing.

You're a Fulltime Killer, Charlie Brown

2006-01-24T19:55:00.001Z

BBC4's recent Asian Invasion season has been a real television treat, and the highlight so far for me has been the Hong Kong action-fest film 'Fulltime Killer' that was aired last week. Aside from being one of the most thoroughly enjoyable movies I've seen for a while I was pleasantly surprised by the involvement of Snoopy in the storyline!

The Snoopy aspect involves the Snoopy World Tour McDonald's Happy Meal toys of 1999 (for Europe) - a collection of 28 little plastic Snoopy figurines, each representing nations around the globe, usually in traditional garb or colours, sometimes partaking in a popular activity (such as badmington for Indonesia) or occupation (a mountie for Canada) supposedly associated with that nation. This all said even the most learned person would have trouble correctly naming them all without at least knowing the countries included beforehand; and just to properly confuse you for some crazy reason there's one just for Texas. Suffice to say combined with that inconsistency the obscurity of some choices, the world famous beagle has certainly not made identifying all the locations of his tour an easy task.

So is this a film about psychotic Snoopy fans willing to kill to finish their sets? Not as such. One of the main characters is an assassin who brings a Snoopy back representing every country that he has visited and subsequently successfully completed his 'job' - rather than just having bought a lot of Happy Meals like everyone else. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't a plot spoiler for me to reveal that little tidbit but nevertheless Snoopy does manage to get himself enough screentime during the course of the movie to be considered a supporting actor.

And if that wasn't enough, the same Snoopy-collecting character also wears black Hi-top Chucks throughout making him quite the genuine aspirational action hero in my humble opinion.

A sight for sore eyes

2006-01-24T15:56:00.001Z

It's been a while, eh? My apologies for the online coma of sorts - I could elaborate on why but from now on I’m trying to make the excessive hyper-pretentiousness *exclusive* to the MyLiveSpaceJournal-me-do that thankfully only exists between my ears.

Yes sir, this is my blog and I intend to bring upon a return to the glory days of yore when I actually enjoyed posting on it. Nobody needs to be reading it, a blessing really since nobody actually is (well, a few unfortunate bored friends aside), but I need to start blabbering incessantly again into the ether of the internets to help relieve the mental cabin fever that is threatening to make my poor brain go pop (and by that I mean explode, not the musical genre).

Anyway, on with the actual posting!

Your arms are broken!

2005-08-18T22:28:00.000+01:00

I'm not here. But if I were I'd randomly be supplying links from YTMND, meme hive of juxtaposition and general fad craziness - as well as the home of the infamous Picard song.

Let's start with the interpreted English lyrics from the theme of the Finnish version of Duck Tales, Ankronikka. And would you know it, it's almost as interesting when played backwards. Same concept but with the Dutch Darkwing Duck theme? 'K'.

That is all.

"The front is a lemon avenue flying straightly"

2005-07-06T15:28:00.000+01:00

Episode III: The Backstroke of the West, the various English subtitle translation delights found on the illegal Chinese DVD release - seemingly the best version available.

Smooth but not a criminal...

2005-06-13T22:29:00.000+01:00

Michael Jackson is innocent! Completely, on all counts. No really.

Shamone motherf***er!

I'd do 'bout anything to get the hell out alive

2005-06-13T21:47:00.000+01:00

Tomorrow I'm going to see Weezer at Brixton Academy in that place called London. I've never been to our nation's capital but suffice to say I'll be greatly disappointed if I don't see any merrily singing chimney sweeps, streets paved with gold, gentlemen in bowler hats carrying briefcases and umbrellas even in summer, double-decker red buses that you can run after and jump on, a wide variety of annoying cockney-stereotypes, and so many more people per square meter than I'm used to that I might not be able to cope without having a panic attack. Unfortunately it'll only be a flying visit, albeit without any actual flying, so there won't be much time for sightseeing, although we are going on the tube briefly so that's a novelty within itself.

I won't pretend that I'm as excited about it all as I was when I booked the tickets. Hopefully my languishing expectations will make for a more satisfying day out.

It's extremely unlikely that Weezer will play 'Susanne' or 'Falling for you', but then that's probably for the best...

Volcanoes melt you down.

2005-06-11T15:20:00.000+01:00

Albums pour cette semaine:

Jack Johnson - In Between Dreams
Beck - Guero
Damien Rice - O
Alkaline Trio - Crimson
Aimee Mann - Bachelor No. 2
Interpol - Antics
Garbage - Bleed Like Me
Crowded House - Recurring Dream
Hot Hot Heat - Elevator
Royksopp - The Understanding
Coldplay - X and Y

Seven songs s'for s'now:

Babyshambles - F**k Forever
Muse - Blackout
The Subways - Rock & Roll Queen
Interpol - Slow Hands
Finch - Post Script
Muse - Plug in Baby
Gorillaz - Dare

Time for a long weekend of non-stop Weezer...

99 problems but Monster Munch ain't one

2005-06-09T20:49:00.000+01:00

Since late December 2003 I've abstained from eating crisps. Why? Because I merely wanted to see if I could. I'm quite adept at depriving myself of all manner of things, from alcohol to self-respect, so it's not overly unusual for me to just randomly decide to give up on something. It wasn't a health concern, I certainly don't aspire to be pure of body – if that were the case I would probably have more haemoglobin than sherbet in my blood – it’s just I've never been a big eater of crisps anyway so all I was going to miss was the occasional packet of not-quite-right Roast Beef Monster Munch which only make me pine for the old style ones long before Walkers assimilated the brand. Ooo and Wagon Wheel crisps (no relation to the chocolate biscuit) that were the staple food of all family birthday parties during the 80's...

Anyway, for 18 months - aside from one or two minor exceptions - I haven't consumed more than a handful of crisps, let alone an entire packet of any size or description. It's an achievement I didn't feel anything about either way, until that is I read the news yesterday that sales of crisps in the UK have fallen by 12% since. Suddenly I feel ever-so-slightly guilty and responsible! If the British crisp industry falls I will bare some of the blood of a national obsession - the U.K. consumes more packets than the rest of Europe put together (mainly because all you can get on the continent is freakin' Paprika flavour) - on my hands... but then I'd much rather have blood on my hands than the overwhelming stench of Cheese & Onion or indeed my long-term sworn enemy, Wotsits. But I won't be alone; our increasingly health-conscious nation is supposedly shunning salted snacks in favour of fruits and low-calorie treats at such an overwhelming rate that Pringles may have to start filling their tubes with flour dusted rice cakes. Well, maybe not but don't be surprised if Walkers starts a cull of some of it's more niche varieties such as Frazzles and launches a new super-low-fat crisp that is almost as appetising as a stale Ryveta topped with grit.

Aside from the dieters' rebellion I think the other contributing factor for the minor crisp market meltdown has been the advent of 'luxury crisps', a borderline oxymoron even in today's climate of baked not deep-fried-in-animal-fat manufacturing trend. Less people are eating crisps thesedays, so what's with the industry's obsession with launching expensive posh crisps? Is there some belief that the crisp munchers remaining after the great snack holocaust, as we potentially enter an era where children will be practically force-fed nutritional food by law, will suddenly break up into a two-way divided market; with the upper class potato snacks - identifiable by their obscure foreign flavourings and sleek packaging - on one side and the inflated potato entrails/Styrofoam working class fodder of Quavers, Skips, etcetera on the other? The growing signs of this possibility are here today for all to see. Next time you're in your supermarket of choice linger inconspicuously around the 'budget' multi-packs as if you were a slightly confused hyena with the munchies and watch as 96.2% of people, from teenagers to pensioners, scoff at the likes of the Family Favourites variety bag as if it had POOR stamped all over each individual crisp. When I was younger a bag of Family Favourites was like a Kellogg’s Variety pack, a rare and beautiful luxury that we were only able to afford at times of parental whimsy when we went to Butlins non-catering and truly ate like royalty at a holiday camp for a week (well, it felt like that anyway). Since then I guess we as a nation, with improved standards and more choice, have grown some kind of crisp snobbishness.

That said, even with a greater emphasis on quality every packet of Golden Wonder still *has* to contain at least one burnt crisp and one that's uninvitingly green in some way and may or may not be so big it's the Godzilla of the packet. Question is, which one do you not eat? Hardly anyone I know cares (and I don't just mean about my entire viewpoint). If a crisp was somehow incubating the bubonic plague and wasn't making a very good job of hiding the fact, maybe even with a hazard sign sprayed onto it and a condemned sticker and, heck, a little neon sign saying 'DEADLY' my Dad would still eat it. Then lick the packet.

Maybe that's the future for crisp survival, and no I don't mean packing in free highly contagious diseases. Make them less healthy, intentionally dodgy looking and overall keep them cheap... for although they soon may become extinct from lunchboxes, and removed from the cupboards of the upwardly mobile, crisps will always be there for those of us who really couldn't give a fudge. As for myself, I'll return to the fold once Wagon Wheel crisps return to the shelves...

Exciting bonus factoid: Did you know that in a regular tube of Pringles there are 95 crisps? *cough* I've never actually counted or anything... [roll thy eyes here]

Forever lost

2005-06-09T19:35:00.000+01:00

Escapedy!!!

Grocery Store Wars - Chewbroccoli? The dark side of the farm? Join the Organic Rebellion? A silly but well made parody that's almost A&J in style but also actually a serious pro-organic campaign.
...speaking of Adam & Joe, The Streets' parody Dry The Seat Mate is about the only noticable thing from them since those Surf adverts :(
Flippin' Sweet! - DANG! Learn to dance with Napoleon Dynamite! :D ...including to a Star Wars dance remix! My hero!
Chewing gum art - If only it magically came out painted... Tate Modern on every main shopping street countrywide!
Counter-Strike: DAS FILM - Ollld but still mildly amusing. Crazed Germans re-enact a CS game in real life.
Breakdancing for the (former) Pope - Pha real!

It's time I got back

2005-05-22T19:59:00.000+01:00

A return to my blogging prolificacy of yore is hardly The Good Life but it's something I need to do. Just know that I plan to, in due course.

I'm going to enjoy doing this again if it kills me.

The prequels in one picture

2005-05-14T18:09:00.000+01:00

...well, it would be if Mickey was CGI.

Haunt you every day

2005-05-14T12:44:00.001+01:00

This week:

I played football for the first time in what felt like forever.
I restricted myself to just two Sherbet Fountains.
I developed a really sore throat and have been feeling really run down since.
I actually almost tried to have a shave using my toothbrush.
I had a dream all my hair fell out... but on the plus side I could fly a plane.
I played PSO: Blue Burst (Beta). I give it 8 squirrels out of 10 antelope.
I watched 'Punch Drunk Love'; however only one episode of Balamory.

Nil Satis Nisi Optimum

2005-05-07T20:05:00.000+01:00

I won't go into too much depth but today I watched Everton all but seal their place in next season's Champions League - a good 35 years since we were last able to take part. To go from 17th the season before to finishing 4th - having lost your 3 highest scorers the previous season, including supposedly the most talented English youngster of our time, not to mention 5 other senior pros and later your most influential player remaining in the transfer window; having reinforced a jaded and sinking team with but 2 cheap acquisitions from the league below - and to stay within the top 4 from September till the very end is an achievement no-one should be able to begrudge. But mock they will, fans of teams with far larger, younger, and more expensive squads - somewhat blind to their own team's shortcomings. The league table rarely lies; Everton are better than 16 others teams this season over 38 games. It begs the question, if we supposedly make the Premier League look silly what do the teams below us make it? And indeed what does Liverpool's continuing endeavours in the Champions League this season, a team at best destined to finish 5th in their domestic league, say about that competition?

Who knows and who cares.

I caught you a delicious bass

2005-04-22T15:44:00.000+01:00

"Girls like boys who have skills."

Ain't that the truth. Napoleon Dynamite is the best film I have seen this year - it kinda makes me happy to have lived a life less ordinary thus far. It's also dangerously reminiscent of several personal experiences.

Peace out.

Lies from the tablecloth

2005-04-20T13:35:00.000+01:00

18 episodes into the 4th series of 24 and surprise, surprise those pesky terrorists are still living it large. Will America ever be safe?

I hope not (fictionally!). I mean they'd be no more 24! Jack et al would just sit there making those prolonged stares of contempt and suspicion over trivial matters such as who stole the Pritt-stick, and composing gossip emails about who is doing who to their mates in Division. Maybe into the 3rd hour there would be a heated conflict complete with drawn guns over who drank some guy's milk from the staff fridge. Forensics would be called in, and somehow it'd all be linked to a Middle-Eastern splinter cell because there was a grain of rice on the bottle rim. Up the threat level! And the suspicious glances!

This all said despite being a very silly place indeed I'd still work at CTU, if only for the noise the phones make. *Beep-beep-burr-burr*. I bet the phones at MI5 aren't so exciting... though knowing our intelligence services, well I don't really know them *cough* [turns off monitoring devices], most of the operatives probably have Sweety the chick as their ringtone.

Bad Influence

2005-04-09T19:19:00.000+01:00

Although a fair few self-proclaimed aficionados would fervently deny it gaming can easily become an excessive obsession - arguably only *less* costly and crazed as a severe Kinder Egg addiction.

The end dream of most is to assemble a dedicated gaming room - a shrine to your collection, with all the games machines set-up aside another presumably so if Lord Ganesh happened to come round to gawp he could simultaneously whoop your top score on Tempest 2000 on the Atari Jaguar while leaving you trailing like a Lada in the Monaco GP in a head-to-head on Gran Turismo 4. Various paraphernalia deck the walls, shelves are stocked to breaking point with immaculately boxed and unboxed carts for every system under the sun, obscure factory-sealed peripherals stand proudly in glass display cabinets - it's all been seen time and time again the world over and there's very rarely anything that differs from this generic vision of a retro gaming place of worship... but a seating area shaped like the top half of a NES? :o

I don't know about you, although perhaps it's my unwavering Sega allegiance showing, but I'd be suspicious of an ulterior purpose. I mean, you wouldn't want to sit on it and beat the guy on one of his randomly selected titles he's probably never ever played then while in the throws of victory get swallowed alive when the giant NES cart slot opens up.

Maybe it's the guy's tortured and damned soul in there; the price he paid to accumulate the room's contents.

There's a lesson in there somewhere kids.

Wonderboy in Pleasureland

2005-03-23T20:23:00.002Z

I could say a lot of things about working in a themepark but... I won't.

Third season? You get a nice sparkly gold name badge. No more power or respect than before, but it's GOLD muthaucker. It's the same kind of ironic glorification awarded to the guy in McDonalds who whipes the tables and has 4 stars.

Bow down before me mere mortals.

That boy is our last hope

2005-03-14T22:59:00.000Z

"You were the chosen one!!!"

No, not Wayne Rooney! Anakin Skywalker!

The beginning of the end is a little over 2 months away now; so near that the theatrical trailer for Episode III: Revenge o' teh Sith is now officially available after having flooded the torrent circuit last week.

Don't watch it though! You might actually start thinking it's going to be good...

Holy Sweet goddamn!

2005-03-01T12:12:00.000Z

Weezer's upcoming UK tour dates announced!

06/13/05 - Birmingham, UK - Birmingham Academy
06/13/05 - London, UK - Brixton Academy

General sale starts Friday 4th March at 9am.

Who's coming with me???!

Optimus Prime dead... AGAIN!?!??

2005-02-28T16:00:00.000Z

...and due to prostate cancer of all things. Hmm. More than meets the eye to that cause of death methinks [grumble here].

Seriously though, it's not really what he needed after those revelations of being Jewish and hearting SPRINKLES.

Who lives in a bong in a dormatory?

2005-02-26T14:47:00.000Z

Spongebong Hemppants! Yes kids, three short episodes of alternative SpongeBob parody produced for VH1 but since banned from release after the creators suffered the litigation wrath from down Bikini Bottom. It's also unlikely to have pleased those crazy right-wing groups who have long accused SpongeBob of containing overtly homosexual undertones.

Not actually that funny but more of interest as a good tribute to the already subversive SpongeBob style...

Market Research Zone

2005-02-24T23:26:00.000Z

"SEGA needs the help of Sonic fans everywhere!"

Help them damn you!!!

Please note: It's not actually stated but if you rate Crash Bandicoot '10' Sonic will most probably come round your house and eat your pets.

Already know you that which you need?

2005-02-24T21:42:00.000Z

Or arst thy pants bursting in anticipation of Episode III?

If you dare to stray towards the dark side and gander at some spoilers you could quite considerably relieve yourself with a veritable cornucopia of Revenge of the Sith stills and even lightsaber battle animations. True Jedi crave not these things of course *cough*...

While I'm passing the subject... as if Darth Tater and the Lego Star Wars Game wasn't enough to get me excited in advance of the impending merchandise meltdown I'm now also on the look-out for stoned gigantism wookiee figures! =D

Some things you should know and some others you could do without

2005-02-24T14:04:00.000Z

~~Five~~ Six most recent albums I have listened to:

Doves - Some Cities
Athlete - Tourist
Bloc Party - Silent Alarm
Kaiser Chiefs - Employment
The Futureheads - The Futureheads
(because I'm listening to it now) Daft Punk - Human After All

My top 5 favourite versions of Gauntlet:

Gauntlet (Arcade)
Gauntlet (C64)
Gauntlet IV (Mega Drive)
Gauntlet (Master System)
Gauntlet II (Arcade)

The last 5 magazines I bought:

Nintendo Official Magazine
Pokemon Official Magazine
Nintendo Official Magazine
Nintendo Official Magazine
Nintendo Official Magazine

The 5 most honourable weapons in CS:

Scout
TMP/Mac-10
Knife
Deagle
M3

5 things I don't eat containing the cancer causing 'Sudan I dye':

Beef & Tomato Pot Noodles.
McDonalds BBQ sauce.
Just about every ready meal (be it Kwik Save or Tesco Finest) containing mince, sausages (pork/beef) or steak.
Seafood sauce.
Red shoe polish.

Burndt Jamb

2005-02-18T23:21:00.000Z

Donkey Konga style bongo action (albeit with keys) to Weezer's 'Photograph' or 'Buddy Holly'? Yes. Please.

Imagine 'El Scorcho' on Gorilla (wrist injury/mental instability inducing) difficulty with the bongo controller. I actually think I'd be able to do it. Fo shame it's only in dreams...

(that was awful, sorry)

Let's go today, in a heart beat

2005-01-31T22:14:00.000Z

Holiday in Japan? I wish!

I will go one day. I must go. But when will I ever have a few grand to spare? Perhaps I'll start a copper change fund and by the time I'm 104 I'll have enough and it'll all be very Blade Runner-esque. Or better still it'll be all Neon Genesis Evangelion-y with ridiculously cool mechas. Heck I'd even settle for a glimpse of Godzilla beating the crap out of something! I mean, I imagine my expectations will have exploded considerably with all those decades of penny saving. Who knows? Maybe giant robot and lizards will be part of the standard package deals by then...

Puppets, F**k Yeah!

2005-01-15T16:10:00.000Z

In the 40 years since the likes of Gerry Anderson’s Thunderbirds, Stringray and Captain Scarlet first hit screens marionette productions of any recognisable calibre (glimpses in Spike Jonze's 'Being John Malkovich' aside) have been as scarce as WMDs in Iraq; puzzling considering the aforementioned series have enjoyed undying child and cult popularity for generations. Anderson himself moved towards live action productions (including the rather cringe worthy 'Space Precinct') and with the price of conventional animation dropping considerably in the 70’s commissions for costly and talent-intensive puppet shows disappeared. The more recent advent of production line CGI animation had seemingly cut the puppet strings forever, heck, Captain Scarlet himself is soon to return in CGI form later this year. But if a thousand successful repeats of Thunderbirds et al shows anything I guess it’s that there’s a great appealing charm to puppetry compared with what has become a very soulless and samey world of cartoons. With this in mind it was inevitable that eventually someone would pick up the strings once more but despite having a reputation for defying convention, who would’ve thought Trey Parker and Matt Stone of Southpark fame would be the ones to resurrect such a fondly loved medium?

Gerry Anderson would no doubt turn woodenly in his grave if he were indeed dead. Hopefully witnessing the influence of his legacy on 'Team America: World Police' won’t encourage the winding down of his mortal coil but I can envisage Anderson die-hards will be as insulted as those who unquestionably preach to the sermon of Michael Moore. But having seen it now I can’t really imagine its tour de force of bad taste and satire of America’s all-powerful, self-appointed role as Defenders of the Earth (not to mention blind patriotism and a self-righteous Hollywood) existing in the same deceptively crude looking style as Southpark. Heroism and puppets go hand in hand, even if in this case one of the hands is a bit crazed. Subsequently it plays out in parts like an adult version of its primary influences - deaths are increasingly gruesome (best of all with ‘deadly panthers’), profanity is just as frequent and hilarious as any Southpark episode, and the sex scene involving Lady Penelope look-alike Lisa will fulfil long harboured fantasies for many a mature Thunderbirds fan. All this as well as some Star Wars homage and one of the best metaphors for global politics ever and I came out of it smiling.

Like Marmite it’s *extremely* unlikely to be to the taste of many but if you’ve an immature bone in your body (and have never seen a man eat his own head) you’re guaranteed to laugh yourself silly.

Last post on the bugle?

2005-01-14T01:58:00.000Z

I feel as if I've typed such statements a million times during the last 14 months, I've certainly mulled over the matter as much, but I'm quite lost for what to say these days on this - my blog.

Imperial Doughnut has been around for over 4 years now as a blog, and as my titled creative output for one short of a decade. It really all means and stands for nothing yet despite having fallen deep into apathy with the medium, and largely with anything I utter through it, I can't pretend I don't get the occasional impulse to awaken it from what has become a vegetative state.

Trouble is I no longer consider my thoughts even mildly interesting. Well, okay, to be honest I have never thought anything here worth reading (and if nobody read it at all it would make no difference to this judgment) but mundane as the nonsense I have posted away has been the key factor I guess was that it was mostly enjoyable to publish.

In contrast I've been picking at these few banal paragraphs for the last 3 hours intermittently sighing and wondering why I'm bothering at all.

for a minute there i lost myself

2004-11-27T19:23:00.000Z

Top 10 Radiohead songs I like to sing:

Black Star
Karma Police
Creep
Lucky
My Iron Lung
No Surprises
High And Dry
Street Spirit
The Bends
There There

And 5 I'd probably attempt at karaoke if highly intoxicated:

Idioteque
Paranoid Android
We Suck Young Blood
Myxomatosis
True Love Waits

Tune in next week for Steps and the Spice Girls...

the breakfast of champions

2004-11-07T14:21:00.000Z

I wish I could have my breakfast with Snoopy AND Santa! In a steakhouse of all places too.

I bet Mickey Mouse doesn't have steak for breakfast...

hail to the pumpkin

2004-11-02T18:50:00.000Z

Radiohead inspired pumpkin carvings.

no one else

2004-10-26T19:21:00.000+01:00

Weezer Are The Most Important Band Of The Last 10 Years or so says some random person. It's almost as if I abducted the identity of an MTV journalist, wrote that and then ~~disposed of the body~~ ran off in just my superman skivies .

A moment of silence for John Peel.

my little movie stars

2004-10-07T23:52:00.000+01:00

Fan-art of popular movie characters as My Little Ponies.

*ahem* Why not...

wonderboy in pleasureland

2004-09-29T19:03:00.000+01:00

Bah. After a mere one month of freedom I'm being persuaded to return to paradox land - albeit for a limited time only. I need the pounds and pence or it's back to working the streets (of rage).

But I won't be going back without an ulterior agenda, I full intend to push forward the establishment of a union, R.O.A.R. (Ride Operators Against Repression - although it's not just specific to button monkeys, other operations department staff can join the fight), and fight the establishment from within. Unfortunately it would only truly work if all plebs united; alas the sad truth is that there's an unhealthy number of low level staff who actually enjoy working there.

fools gold

2004-09-26T18:00:00.000+01:00

Everton: 7 games in, 3rd in the table (3 points behind leaders Arsenal, 1 behind big-spending Chelsea) with 16 points in the bank.

The season is still very much in its infancy but a promising start for a team that all but a few supposed experts and pundits deemed a cert for relegation. It's not been so much a triumph over adversity, but a triumph over the cancerous prima-donnas 'star' mentality that causes teams with far more skilled (and consequently higher valued in both senses of the word) professionals to stutter inconsistently. With the smallest squad in the league, having lost a sizeable number of first-team players in the summer including the club's two most potent strikers - replaced only with two modest acquisitions from the division below - Everton's resurgence has served as a timely reminder to the rest of the Premiership and the post-Rooney doomsayers that there's no 'I' in team; although there is an 'I' in pie [coincidentally long reported to be one of Wayne's favourite meals], and meat (as in meat pie) is an anagram of team... or something like that. Sadly the team ethic of the world's most popular *team* game is decreasingly evident in the leading leagues, one need only look at Real Madrid's collection of divided and poncy galacticos that are winners only in the marketing sense at the moment, but Everton continue to show that determination, belief, togetherness, and an absolute work-rate can go a long way regardless of the gulf in ‘quality’ compared with the majority of opposition.

burning responsibly

2004-09-26T00:03:00.000+01:00

Green Day have taken a rather novel approach to confronting music piracy by releasing a 5-pack of custom printed blank CD-Rs with prints featuring the artwork of their albums in a bid to encourage fans to "Burn responsibly" by downloading music legally and burning their own Green Day compilations.

Not that I dislike Green Day in any way but the first thing that came to mind was "WOW, now I can cunningly disguise my 'The Smurfs Go Pop!' with a punk classic and display it unashamedly with a prominent placement in my CD wallet gaining me acceptance amongst the youthful individuals whom may happen to browser past it".

What if they played it while my back was turned? Welllllll... I could pass it off as being an extremely rare pre-release recorded shortly after Billy Joe had suffered a rather nasty knock to the head and was accidentally resuscitated with helium.

somewhat apt

2004-09-20T16:57:00.000+01:00

I'm sick of feeding my soul
To people who'll never know
Just how purposeless and empty they've grown
Because their language confuses like computers refuse to understand how I'm feeling today

I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't need another map of your head
I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't need another map of your head

I saw a liquid control
That gives life to a soul
I hit my head on it and woke up to know
That I was all alone
Wearing just socks and a phone
Someone is screaming like their world might explode

Yeah I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't need another map of your head
I'm freezing and losing my way
I don't want another map of your head

Sacre bleu! Unlike quite a considerable number of journal/weblog types I'm not fond of directly quoting the entire lyrics of a song but there's more than a few applicable lines for me at the moment contained within 'Map Of Your Head' by Muse. I won't elaborate further however; although incidentally it is quite chilly today, a goosepimple-inducing 10 degrees Celsius in fact where I'm sat.

p.s. I had fish fingers and Alphabites for dinner. Captain Birdseye would be proud.

most heinous... not

2004-09-09T20:14:00.000+01:00

Daily Dinosaur Comics, my current favourite webcomic, does 'Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure' in 6 frames. Excellent.

Eerie Indiana

2004-09-08T23:24:00.000+01:00

Some observations about 'Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom':

Short Round or 'Shorty'. Close range people’s elbow on the Maharaja, kung fu kicks against guards and some great dialogue. The *true* hero.
Creepy crawlies! Millipedes, roaches and the like are unlikely to eat you alive, and their non-threatening nature probably wouldn’t get them the job for the same scenes today, but they’re still made to look scary in this.
Bubbling eye-ball soup, snake surprise, giant crunchy beatles, chilled monkey brains - £7.99 for a two-person take-away banquet. Childhood exposure to this film is probably why I don’t like/trust Indian food.
The Thuggees. Blood drinking. Scary chanting. Lowering innocent non-believers into a fiery precipice. Enslaving children. This must rank as one of the pioneering films that attempted to discourage impressionable youths from the lure of thug life…
Willie slinging a snake away despite believing it to be an elephant’s trunk. Are we to assume she is so early 80’s stereotypically blonde that she thinks they [trunks]are detachable? Or perhaps she believes she flung the entire elephant over her shoulder?
Statue fondling. “But I’m here!!!” protests Willie as Indie caresses up a nearby figure and presses tenderly with both hands cupped against a specific raised region to open up a secret passage [no innuendo intended].

one too many and you might turn... into a big red dog?

2004-09-08T22:12:00.000+01:00

Most would consider it a chronic misuse of the ol’ grey matter but I personally can’t stop myself from deeply musing over the finer points of cartoons. My last post on Big Red chewing gum got the wee cogs in my head turning about ‘Clifford The Big Red Dog’. It’s not exactly the stuff of startling revelation, granted, but just how did he really come to be so big and, well, red?

The answer is in his name of course! I’m not insinuating he’s an unofficial product mascot per se, but perhaps his curious appearance originated in a similar fashion to Berti Bassett’s; akin to the old adage ‘you are what you eat’. The real Berti, not his recently spotted miniature look-alike, wasn’t always a man made of liquorice. Although his exact history is relatively shrouded in mystery it has been cited that Berti was once an unsuspecting accounting clerk with a dangerous penchant for dolly mixtures. It was an inkling that would eventually prove so addictive that the traditional favourite’s black sludge content consumed his actual blood and caused a genetic mutation. Obviously fearful of a reoccurrence, maybe even an national epidemic, of sweetie person metamorphosis like some kind of crazed Dr. Who episode, the makers Bassetts employed Berti to educate the public on the risks of zealous intake of their products with the cautionary slogan ‘one too many and you might turn Berti’. Though the long-running campaign successfully stifled the risk of a repeat of Berti’s adversity the message did not deter the masses from rival products and there were several notable new mutations including the Soft Mints man. Unfortunately across the Atlantic similar warnings were laughed away and as part of an ignorant nation Clifford, whether by desire or imposed upbringing/experimentation, was raised from a pup on a diet largely consisting of Big Red. Baring in mind the fact that dogs can be highly impulsive chewers it’s clear his daily exposure during adolescence was little less than absolute.

Aside from laxative effects and the possibility of nut allergy these big multi-national corporations tend to make light of the severe consequences of overly regular consumption of their product. So beware and be vigilant next time you lust for just another chocolate Hob Nob to finish the pack or roll your tongue around your fifteenth Chupa Chup of the day… you too could be joining the ranks of the capitalist-world damned along with the infant Sunny D drinkers turning into Umpa Lumpas, Grimace, and poor old Berti Bassett.

The Big Red dogma

2004-09-08T14:53:00.000+01:00

Following Christopher Columbus’s infamous (re)discovery of America in the late 15th century European explorers vehemently pilfered many wondrous wares from the new world including sweet potatoes, tomatoes, tobacco, sweetcorn, cocoa, as much gold as they could eat, and ‘Indian’ slaves (not to eat of course, unless the return leg was unexpectedly long). Nowadays globalisation has rendered new unique and indigenous exports from contemporary America either anonymous (what the corporations don’t want us to have *mustn’t* be any good; we shouldn’t know about) or so repackaged and tailored to specific markets that we barely flinch (it ceases to be truly American or indeed perceived as an import). And even when there is demand or anticipation of a real American product it’s largely because of pre-marketing hype or endless media product mention/placement wetting the knickers of those who aspire to be American; those with NY Yankees paraphernalia know who you are. Unfortunately until you actually visit the good ol’ U. S. of A. you’re unlikely to sample the true exportable treasures, especially in terms of foodstuff, deemed beyond what our little sensitive souls in the old world of Europe can handle.

That said during my three visits to the land of the free and the home of the brave™ only two edible commodities have really stood out as true rare delicacies: Big Red and Oreos. The latter is perhaps as symbolic of [North] American food to me as hamburgers and hotdogs. To be honest it’s hard to comprehend what life was like before savouring them, they’re that distinctive; although perhaps it’s exaggerated by falling into the misconception of assuming they’re just some fancy circular Bourbon cream when you first see them. There’s also something immensely indulgent and decadent about eating them, similar to the kind of feeling normally reserved for chocolate fondue but barely as sumptuous a process - methods can differ but Oreos are most popularly consumed by scraping away the ‘frosting’ innards like some kind of elaborate biscuit oyster, then either jettisoning the cookie sides or submersing them in milk [then eating as normal]. Why not just eat them as they are presented? Because it’s widely accepted that the filling, known as ‘stuf’, is the most addictive white substance known to man (or woman, a few bukkake stars aside perhaps). Forget cocaine, marshmallow spread, PVA glue, and even sherbet, if they sold ‘stuf’ by itself sans-biscuit halves in a jar/tub/tube its fair conjecture to predict that many Americans would eat little else. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them have it down as their blood type so they can get it in on a drip and unwind their mortal coil in unmitigated bliss. I jest but admittedly last time I was in Californ-i-a I could’ve been diagnosed with borderline dependency myself having personally sampled the Oreo-ific delights of Oreo McFlurry, Oreo Pie, Oreo O’s (cereal), Oreo Milkshake, Oreo Sundae, Mini-Oreos, Oreo Ice-Cream, Oreo Ice Cream Bar, oh and bog-standard, run-o’-the-mill Oreos - and that’s all a mere baby-step foray into the extensive Oreo range available. I wish I'd had DoubleStufs... :(

I’ve been clean for a good two years now though sadly, such is the expense of shipping them in – although the inferior (and not quite authentic) but also hard to come by EU produced counterpart has recently come into stock at my local Waitrose having all but vanished since the turn of the millennium, but my yearning for a regular hit of grub Americana has not been quelled by intensive therapy entirely just yet... keep it under your hat but I’ve moved onto abusing something that gives an even greater rush... Big Red, a discovery made on my last Atlantic expedition in 2002.

Unlike the abovementioned initial exports from the new world ‘chicle’, the sap from South American sapota trees, had survived until the turn of the last century before being plundered by European settlers with the intent of using it to make cheaper tires. That plan failed but now it’s the matter from which most modern chewing gum is based – information I’m certain will have made your life so much more enriched to know. But why is any of this banality relevant I hear you ask? (Aside from serving as a tie-in to the tedious introduction) Well, my little droogs, ‘tis because Big Red is a brand of chewing gum… but bare with me; it’s no ordinary gum! No Siree, it’s cinnamon flavoured. I’ll forgive you if you’re not impressed but being someone who adores both the taste and aroma of cinnamon it’s a most desirable product indeed. Stateside there is a plethora of cinnamon-based goodies yet in Little Britain we’re starved of the spice to the extent that it could be coming from Arrakis; and what little we do get is poo, such as hell-spawn Cinnamon Grahams. One can only speculate towards the possibility of some kind of draconian (and perhaps xenophobic!) British law pertaining all proper chewing gum and breath freshening confectionary must be either mint or menthol based [cue rapturous yet patriotically cantankerous calls of “Here here!” in The House Of Lords]. Strange really, especially since most mint flavoured gum dissipate rather quickly both in terms of taste and breath freshening effectiveness whereas the effects of a single stick of Big Red can be positively overwhelming and noticeably potent even after it’s long been discarded. In fact the aroma is so strong that opened packets also double up as pomanders. I've had an opened packet in my desk draw since February and there isn’t a single object in there not enchanted with the smell. Admittedly I can’t actually talk to pieces of paper or pencils (no matter how hard I try) but I’m sure if they had any objections they’d have exhibited them somehow - perhaps in the form of a protest with signs and a demonstration chant along the lines of ‘I’d rather be dead than smell of Big Red’. OR... perhaps... not...

But Big Red isn’t special just because of its pleasant taste and aroma; it possesses a surprising range of medicinal benefits despite its cinnamon flavouring being artificial. Cinnamonaldehyde as well as an as-of-yet undisclosed ingredient that may or may not be squirrel (red ones of course) whiskers, both contained in Big Red, significantly suppresses bacterial growth in the mouth, the common basis of tooth decay, gum infections and baaad breath. Furthermore cinnamonaldehyde is known to reduce blood sugar levels in diabetics and boost the immune system. What else? C’est magique! Yes, you can even perform a simple magic trick with a stick of Big Red based upon the sustained reaction of the foil on skin. I haven’t actually tried it myself yet, so don’t blame me if you spontaneous combust or just look hella silly, but even if you’re willing to take your chances managing to actual find some Big Red to potentially impress David Blaine with is far from easy...

Over the years Wrigley have tried to market it here but seldom on a substantial scale, at least not in my conscious lifetime. Heck, old favourite Juicy Fruit has only just incurred a widespread reintroduction after years tethering on the brink of permanent extinction from our shores further underlining the consumer base preoccupation with mint. Thankfully underground black market trafficking of the chewing gum ambrosia continues to supply unashamed cinnamon slaves with precious provisions. I recently acquired 10 packs on eBay for the sum of £5.40 including P&P. Pricey you may well say, especially since it retails at 30c in the U.S., which is roughly equivalent to 16 pocket-saturating coppers, but compared with the 65-82p mark-up (excluding delivery and with the cheaper prices based upon bulk quantity) offered on a number of UK based websites [here, here and here] it’s not that bad a deal. Also take into consideration that I’m no phantom chewer; if it were left to me alone those 10 packs of 5 sticks would survive well beyond a year and maybe even beyond the actual best before date depending on when my stocks could be replenished. But even though I do ration it conservatively as a treat for special occasions and special people I still need my fix when circumstances warrant it - however rumours that I have an emergency packet sealed in a breakable glass case are quite frankly unfounded and derisory to the extent of libel. I wouldn’t have to stoop to such supposed lengths to protect my cache however if a certain merchant extraordinaire had taken heed of my advice. Knowing of his maiden journey to Florida in January this year months in advance I conditioned and implored my good friend Robin to plunder as much Big Red as he could afford. Although I’d never been able to supply him with a sample I hoped my repeated and enthusiastic appraisal/begging would be acted upon accordingly but alas instead of a bounty close to a lifetime supply he returned with 4 packets having worked his way through the other 6 he had purchased early on, naïve to its awesomely palatable power. I could relate to how Jack’s mother must’ve felt when he came home with a single bean to show for himself. Coincidentally though I planted and attempted to nurture some exhausted gum in my front garden unfortunately no such magical giant Big Red bean storks appeared despite the implementation of Baby Bio – but I’m not bitter at his failure; at least not since the restraining order came into effect.

You may also *not* want to read: Confectionary Showdown: Polos vs. Lifesavers | Part 2 | Part 3

fresh like a box of krispy kremes

2004-08-23T22:44:00.000+01:00

Before I return to churning out posts aplenty I decided to freshen up the design a little. Well, it's more of a complete overhaul full of differences you will probably not appreciate nor notice (nor care!) but let's pretend it's slightly important. Although there's nothing really revolutionary going down I've resolved a few of the major design gripes with the old Imperial Doughnut and many blogs in general...

Elasticated and fluidy template - Past table intensive designs were very static and required horizontal scroll at anything but a large window or an 800x600 display at full screen. Now you can re-size largely to desire (well, except around the older posts with huge images) and everything will stay readable.
Scalable text - What with the excessive amount of time most of us spend In front of monitors you'd think it'd be illegal by now to force small text upon users, but no. Anyway, you can take your pick now suckah and it's all in a softer, antialiasable font.
Loads faster than a C64 - Old ID had snore-worthy load time, the template code alone was almost 30kb; doubled including images. Now it's all down to around 10kb and entirely (and centrally) CSS driven - just the content per page baby. In-keeping with the elastic mantra they'll be less images of a large size and since there's not a table in sight IE users won't suffer from its infamous rendering problems. Zzzz...
Consistency between pages - Since it's all centrally CSS driven.
Good coding karma - Well, better than before. There's been a general exodus of redundant/pointless code, not to mention a lot of rethinking in terms of proper standards. It still may not fully adhere completely to the acronym letter(s) of the law but it's getting there.
Minimalistic tendencies - C'est basic! Though white has once again taken precedence things are still reassuringly orange, in fact I'm still inclined to adjudge it too orangey for crows. Without the colour background there's less distraction for thy eyes and less general blah on screen = easier to read the bits that really count.
85% crap free - Before due to the 3 column design content not only looked cluttered but was subsequently harder to read, and also manage. Everything unnecessary and unrelated has now been binned or moved, the left column has been axed and things are more spaced. Updates to the actual template code for Blogger will also now be rare since I won't have to take a scalpel to it every time I start a new book etc.

Good riddance:

No more stats/counters/referral logs. What I don't know can't hurt me.
Guestbook, webrings, vote stuff and other such blah. I finally realised it's no longer 1997.

Ch-ch-ch-changes:

The gossiping Stormtroopers are on leave! Part of the masthead since 2001, they have been replaced by a Lego trooper.
The title caption and Episode IV quote has been altered from the paraphrased ending as 'a weak mind' to the proper 'the weak minded'.

New recipe:

embedded comments. No more pop-ups and free services that can't be moderated easily.
I've also signed up for Flickr for use with my dedicated photolog-me-do which I have christened 'photorama'. Using this service I shall be able to publish images directly from my phone. Whoop.

Future fantastic:

Text-only toggle. No images if you do so prefer.
Beefing up those lost 8 months with some posts.
Due to the wonderful differences between the major browsers the em-happy masthead will miscalculate to the point of ineligibility when viewed in Opera, Firefox and even Dreamkey v3. To be sorted soon.
Breaking free of the shackles of BlogSpot.
Something worth reading. Hopefully.

skyride!

2004-08-22T00:23:00.000+01:00

The Sky Ride! X-treeeeeeeeme whiteknuckle action!

how to disappear completely

2004-08-19T00:37:00.000+01:00

[Insert a dramatic and insightful statement of return here]

Although understandably anyone who cared to frequent this hive of soliloquy ridden scum and grammatical villainy regularly has long since given up (a new) hope of a return (of the Jedi... ahem, or maybe not) after a sojourn of almost 8 months I have decided, influenced largely by the encouragement of a select few very important persons and some obscure dreams featuring talking squirrels brandishing pirate hats, to thaw my blog from its carbonite stasis.

I'll give a proper account of things soon...

i don't want you to adore me, don't want you to ignore me, when it pleases you...

2003-12-26T22:27:00.001Z

~~Celebrating~~ Imperial Doughnut's 3rd Blog Birthday...

You may not know it but the extremely abridged entry for Earth in The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy reads 'Mostly harmless'. I can but ponder what the galactic encyclopaedia of everything might say about 'Imperial Doughnut' with a similar decree of abruptness; 'British XE Wannabe'? 'Smelly turd'? Perhaps even 'Rebel scum'. Since the Guide (the proper one, not h2g2) has yet to become available in my local library or spidered by Google there's no way of knowing. It's wildly pretentious of me to even assume this thing would be worthy of a mention in the aforementioned publication, but hey, it's not like I haven't been neurotically dramatising Imperial Doughnut related matters with delusional pre-eminence since day one. Trouble is 'it' ceased being merely a blog to me very early on in its life - it became a reality-beating persona, my soap box; the ever-ambivalent emancipation of a troubled mind...

...yadda, yadda, etc, etc. It's time to celebrate not bemoan! So I refuse to reiterate the long speech I gave last time, mainly because I somehow ended up creating myself a rather flat cleavage with a felt tip pen, nor the various tales of discontent aired every so often...although I can't deny that looking back from the very start recently has been the cause of some malaise - quite frankly the first 18 months or so are complete poo. Indeed to paraphrase a popular Blackadder quote things started off bad, and kinda tailed off in the 2nd year, and the less said about the 3rd the better, but besides that it's been excellent. True, it's not all bad. I've had my moments, not many of 'em (especially not this year), but I've had 'em, and I want more.

Will I still be blabbing away aimlessly in another 3 years though? Difficult to see, always in motion is the future, but I doubt this'll live on to a 5th year in its present form. Strong am I with the concept of Blogging, but not that strong. Twilight is upon Imperial Doughnut and soon the novelty will fall beyond recovery - that is the way of things. Nevertheless if it comes to that I will most probably return after a healthy break more powerful than you can possibly imagine. I don't think I'll ever be able to shake this lustful penchant for bloggery.

Top 3 very long posts that have never been published/finished:

- 'Hooray for Boobies'.
- A highly emotionally deviating review of 'A.I.'.
- 'Streets of Rage' Tribute.

Products still yet to hit the shops:

- Imperial Doughnut branded orange underwear.
- Numerous t-shirt designs.
- An actual Imperial Doughnut recipe.

I suppose the only other thing I wish to add is my thanks to all those who have visited over the years, enjoyed what they've seen to some degree and let it be known by various means - be it simple comments, (humane) sacrifices in my honour, or fruitful conversation on MSN. Not to sound dependent but without some key bits of praise I would've thrown in the towel (aiming for the delete button) long ago. Which brings me nicely to an anniversary reader survey...

Woo! Yes, your feedback is much appreciated - well, the positive, constructive kind anyway. It's all a bit silly/pointless/rar I know but it'll hopefully help me make ID's 4th year the best yet. And if my simple gratitude alone isn't enough to tempt you one *lucky* randomly selected contributor will win an unopened brand spanking new box of Roka Cheese Crispies (winner pays postage) - a truly irresistible incentive if ever there was one. I'll even sign it with a message of your choice in my own blood* if you do so please.

*Due to a rare genetic condition blood writing may be indistinguishable from black marker pen.

so excited you might wee

2003-12-24T00:06:00.001Z

Merry Christmas
& A Happy New Year

very much in my place

2003-12-19T00:51:00.000Z

Just a quickie to congratulate Max on his thoroughly deserved win in The Guardian British Blog Awards 2003 for the Under 18 category, quite possibly the only silverware a kopite will come into contact with this season ;) Scrap that, he's not even getting a trophy ;)

Seriously though, great stuff, go read. As for the rest of the selected they're mostly new to me (not that I consider myself some kind of blog cognoscenti or anything).

I didn't enter. I've been planning a great, witty Douglas Adams-esque reason to go here but the simple truth is several thousand deleted words long.

i'll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon

2003-12-18T15:11:00.001Z

Christmas on Imperial Doughnut without some proper seasonal related posts? Unless something spontaneously comes to mind soonish I'm afraid so. I'm very behind this year. I haven't got an advent calendar, I missed the infamous annual Christmas shop and I didn't even put up the decorations for my room until today. I made use of all the tinsel I could muster to the point of which my thumbs are now extremely sore from pressing hundreds of old pins into walls that don't take kindly to having pins pressed into them. It also looks like someone's conducted a saturation bombing of tinsel bits all over the floor. It's not over-kill or even mildly as grotto like as it has been in the past, just enough to make sure no one inadvertently thinks we're celebrating Easter.

'cos you're worth it

In keeping with personal tradition this year I yet again made my own Christmas cards. Nothing artistic mind, in fact recipients may be forgiven for thinking I've enlisted the services of a 4 year old to make them, just simple (and shockingly, Snoopy-less) efforts fitting of my limited talent for some select special individuals.

I won't pretend I don't like doing it. Such willing creative tendencies stem from the fake Christmas post shenanigans of Primary school and the influence of my mum and big sister, and will probably continue for as long as the results generate at least a single smile. This time they're Japanese themed, well sort of, making use of childish forays into Origami and my growing manga appreciation with 'kawaii' facial expressions, not to mention crayon lettering and equally infantile decorated envelopes for good measure.

When buying materials in a specialist craft shop, crude prototype in hand, I got several funny looks. It's not a declaration born directly of that experience but there really is quite a bit of snobbery regarding 'adult' homemade cards - so you'll just have to excuse me for having no interest in mulberry paper, stencils, acrylic paint, air brushing, gold plating leaves, etcetera. Indeed unlike these greetings card elitists I don't think there's anything wrong with normal printed ones, I just like making mine even if they're all crapy. It's certainly not because I'm a skinflint, production costs and time invested are irrelevant. Those chock full of seasonal cheer may be inclined to say 'love' went into them, well I wouldn't go that far but each is different, personalised and made with care - the very least some deserve.

please, please, please let me get what I want

2003-12-17T13:26:00.001Z

No Santa, I don't desire 'A Present For Everyone' by Busted, but there are a few alternative material possessions you could help me out with instead of the usual gifts of socks, gun rack, myrrh or severed head:

- Snatcher. Copied or otherwise.
- A bigger bed.
- Numerous items of clothing that will make me a more appealing/better person. Nice coat included.
- 'Someone just for me'.
- A nut of laerma.
- Better pronunciation, grammatical nous and vocabulary.
- Kill Bill Vol. 1 soundtrack, to be played during applicable moments of my life.
- Bernard's Watch.
- My own real, full-size EVA unit.
- A consistent creative midfielder for Everton (no offence Scotty Gemmill).
- Crate of 'Love Hina' merchandise.

As for mortal non-chimney dwelling types I've made a little collage above in the style of years long past, the days of cutting out wanted items from the Argos catalogue and crudely gluing them to paper for parental reference. A few silly things I know, it certainly doesn't represent all I'd want for Christmas, but there's still quite a lot of stuff I may very well purchase for myself with my dwindling riches. Not the ladies Snoopy underwear (or Weezer ones below) though, that's just an in-joke for a few people...

...although if they were men's ones I would seriously consider it. Unfortunately as it is I've microscopic-to-no urge to indulge in cross-dressing even if for the sake of having Snoopy-fied pants; though I *cough* would wear female-intended rainbow toe-socks if I could find a pair big enough. Only in bed though, not in general public, I don't want to be institutionalised - least not before I've found a magic carpet with which to visit the king of the potato people (surely Mr. Potato Head?) with.

I'm joking. No really, I am... [rocks back and forward with a sinister glint in his eyes while stroking a maris piper and whispering 'my precious']

Ginger Snaps

2003-12-14T02:12:00.000Z

The best late night random film I've seen in a long, long time, not to mention the best modern Canadian horror movie I've never heard of. There should be some kind of award for that.

Ooo, and there are two sequels set for 2004...

my mommy always said there were no monsters, no real ones, but there are...

2003-12-10T01:27:00.001Z

As sheltered as my life has been in certain respects I was nevertheless desensitised to sizeable levels of screen depicted violence and horror at an early age, most notably exposure to H.R. Giger's eminent alien design while still unable to recite my 7 times table (and no I don't mean last week). I have to stress that this was no Clockwork Orange-style conditioning though - I wasn't strapped to a chair, eyes prized open mechanically or anything - but the result of curiosity and a longing to be in the company of older siblings. While not the most horrifying of movies the second instalment in the 'Alien' series, 'Aliens' (it wasn't for years after that I saw the original) has ample haunting imagery and sound to a young and easily frightened mind. And yet though pillows were hidden behind it was never fear on the level of that reserved for Dr. Who baddies. Cheap and plastic as the latter may have been they were depicted in the real world, whereas the impressively organic alien queen and her offspring were unmistakably, and thankfully, purely fiction. I'm not sure what specifically got me hooked on Aliens but elements such as the space marines, the power loader, and *ahem* Newt had me fascinated and so it subsequently became the subject of frequent Lego based role-play (including a rather silly Star Wars crossover, and a blue motorised APC in Year 5) not to mention many a nightmare and even dreams with talking, friendly xenomorphs. By the time I'd aged into double figures I'd probably seen it as many times as any film bar The Carebear movie. But hey, as you can see it's not had a detrimental effect on me - that is, if we discount the paranoid feeling I'm being stalked by creatures unknown lurking in the shadows. Those Carebears have a lot to answer for...

So yeah, I think I've established that I'm a bit of a fan; I'll even watch 'Resurrection' without cringing... much. Due to my age that'd been the only instalment I'd managed to see on the big screen but after weeks of disinterest by local cinemas I finally got to see Ridley Scott's seminal science fiction horror 'Alien: The Director's Cut' at the weekend, a good 24 years after the original cut's release. And 'tis indeed a nicely buffed Mr Sheen gold finish on an already quite shiny genre masterpiece. That said the only notably extended footage (bar that of the infamous nest and catfight) seemed to be of Ripley in her smalls. Not that I have a major objection with this, I just seriously can't remember much, if any, screen time being given to Sigourney Weaver's svelte bottom - though it has been a fair few years since I last saw Alien. I guess the lack of recollection must be down to having had a mind slightly less concerned with such trivialities [what does that say about me now...] at that time, it's something I never would've given much thought to. I mean, previously the most impressive visual feature aside from the alien itself (although admittedly the post-chestbursting escape has always made me smirk a little) would be the vector-based computer systems [roll thy eyes here]; now it's Ripley's knickers. Forgive my ignorance of such things but they seem awfully small and, well, flimsy. I'm not saying she should be sporting sturdy thermal grandma pants for space travel and/or extraterrestrial fighting but the Nostromo (transporting 20,000,000 tons of Shreddies across the galaxy) is an industrially desolate and cold ship - surely she'd catch a nasty chill with those things on. She might as well be going commando, a realisation Ripley must later make since it's exactly what she does in the sequel. Awful joke. Sorry.

Unfortunately upon further pondering of all this my A-Level Media Studies mindset started to kick in, encouraging me to consider it could all be a clever manipulation of audience expectation and interpretation (bare with me, even if as I type away now I have no idea how, things may make sense by the end). Though it isn't really until 'Aliens' that she fully imposes this guise Ripley is undoubtedly a feministic heroine - an intelligent, strong-willed leader, whose motherly and emotional range coexists with her gender-challenging traits. Would it be totally far fetched to speculate her choice of under-garments, and our ensuing observation of them, aids this image of feministic empowerment? At risk of sounding chauvinistic going bra-less with a flimsy vest and minimalist panties does send a message, if not that in space nobody can see your bum cleavage, one that Ripley was mirroring the changing attitudes regarding women coming into and leading on from the 1980's - increased professional parity, as well as the breaking down of traditional roles and acceptable female appearance. Indeed the shedding of her (quasi-masculine) jumpsuit is a functional scene that aids the fake-equilibrium being established, it was never a shot created to titillate. Regardless of genre or era there are few similar scenes in mainstream cinema where the female protagonist (as the overriding onscreen focal point of a fixed full-body camera shot), especially a young attractive one, removes clothing in a very ordinary way to reveal 'ordinary' looking underwear. More often that not when such things are shown at all they're sexualised in some way, be it by what the character is wearing, suggestive to focused nudity, how the attire is removed, how the camera is used to show it or the addition of someone watching - could the hissing, grunting alien hiding in the shadows watching Ripley voyeuristically undress like a stalker count as representing male ogling? No doubt if the film were made today it's highly likely the Ripley character would brandish a lacy thong and cleavage focusing/enhancing bra lingerie number (totally inappropriate, I mean, you wouldn't want to be stuck in hypersleep for 57 years with a badly positioned thong would you?) and not be played by an actress with such a willowy figure for that matter. The scene would probably play more like a subtle strip tease, with gradual individual item undressing covered by a slowly downwardly panning camera showing visible perspiration and featuring a greater emphasis on her breathing over other sounds and any background music. The alien would then chase her Benny Hill style. Okay, a little over-exaggeration (and silly for the Benny Hill bit) but you get the point. If need be contrast with such scenes in the recent Tomb Raider movies featuring Lara Croft, the supposed modern-day feministic female action role model, though since both are complete poo you're better off taking my word for it ;)

...Knickers or not did I mention the film itself was good? Despite the number of times I've seen the original theatrical version I still jumped twice courtesy of the latest Dolby super-duper stereo surround sound. I've also decided your best bet in an alien infested environment is to be a cat like Jones. Aliens care not for cats, at least not as hosts or pets. Dogs thought they were safe but 'Alien 3' saw to that, furthermore gorillas, birds, and even rhinos have had the facehugger treatment in the books, comics and fan fiction. Imagine a guinea pig hybrid though. A tidy drone alien that squeaks vehemently at you before nibbling at your flesh and producing an endless stream of little sausage shaped acidic poos. I guess some guinea pigs aren't that far off already.

Lastly, a mention must go to the 'Alien Vs. Predator' film due for release next Autumn. Written and directed by Paul W.S. Anderson, he of 'Event Horizon' and 'Resident Evil' fame, and staring Alien series veteran Lance Henriksen (though not as Bishop, instead possibly his creator again), it's set on Earth *blah blah blah* and will no doubt involve a group of amply soiled humans finding themselves in the middle of an extraterrestrial punch-up. Anderson is clearly a fan (just watch Rain's Vasquez homage in Resident Evil) but I've never been overly convinced by the scope for a great story from the Dark Horse comics or games, both the result of a whimsical tie-in at the end of 'Predator 2'. Rastafarian dreadlocks, 'pussy mouths' and triangular laser targets aside any species that commits suicide upon the slightest injury, even paper cuts, and can be defeated by Danny Glover can't expect to be taken seriously as a conqueror of aliens. It'll most probably be rubbish, but like going to see Everton at the moment I'll watch it anyway out of devotion...

mobile photography crevice

2003-12-06T22:36:00.001Z

Muse concert/oh-dear-they're-poo-pics spesh'. You'll have to excuse my lack of commentary.

sell, I'll sell your memories, for 15 pounds per year, but just the good days...

2003-11-30T14:14:00.001Z

If that be the case I'll be demanding a lot more than 15 squid for yesterday, thank-you-please, and not just since I spent a hell of a lot more money than that but because the night itself was a bit wonderful. I was, of course, watching Muse live in concert at the Manchester M.E.N. arena. Bliss indeed.

Although I admittedly possess very little *real* faith I do secretly follow an unnamed polytheist religion believing in two Gods regardless. Who are the two deities I worship? One goes by the name Thom, the other Matt. In some galactic twist of fate they happen to be the incomprehensively talented front-men of my two favourite bands. Don't get me wrong; Muse are no one man band (let's not forget Dominic Howard and Chris Wolstenholme!), but Matt Bellamy is more than just a tad speshul. You can appreciate the genius straight out of your CD player but after you've seen him perform you can't help but feel enlightened by what you've witnessed. Their music translates perfectly to the live stage; there is no loss only enhanced perfection over the studio-recorded counterparts. Furthermore Matt doesn't really work the audience verbally but the sheer vigour of his performance can easily captivate. It also doesn't hurt that he's aesthetically pleasing, which goes a little way to explaining Muse's overwhelming female fan base - wherever thy eyes did turn there were smitten girls in abundance. To be honest I don't blame them, heck I'd fancy the pants off him too if I were in their shoes. He's the kind of guy that make's you ever-so-extremely-minutely-slightly wish you were gay. And that he were, and that he liked gay people like you, or something along those lines. It probably would've been less suspect of me to say 'make you wish you were a girl' instead, but hey, I really having nothing more than the uppermost admiration (of the purely healthy variety) for the guy.

Ahem...moving swiftly on. After a tension building break that followed the main support act Elbow (the first support group was 'Kinesis') Muse opened with great fanfare to 'Apocalypse Please'; cue Matt's magic light display keyboard that looks like a descendent of those used in the film 'Close Encounters', insane levels of excitement and several thousand synchronized face-stretching smiles. This was followed by a rather splendid selection of favourites from all four albums, including: 'Space Dementia', 'Sing For Absolution', 'Thoughts Of A Dying Atheist', 'Endlessly', 'Bliss', 'Plug In Baby', 'Showbiz', 'Citizen Erased' and 'Forced In'. You'll have to forgive me for not remembering the entire playlist or in order but my brain was awash with Muse goodness at the time. Predictably the arena erupted in collective rapture during 'Time Is Running Out'. On a personal level I felt goosebumps all over during 'Showbiz', not to mention joyful moistening of the tear-ducts through 'Plug In Baby' and my favourite from their latest album, 'The Small Print'. From a performance point of view 'Butterflies & Hurricanes' and 'Hysteria', with a postponed extended finale to the former, were perhaps the most electrifying of all, though it was nigh impossible not to be enthralled throughout. For their encore they came out with the sway-and-lighter-antics-inducing 'Blackout' and finished with 'Stockholm Syndrome'. A great many wanted more, but as they approach the last few gigs of a 40 date European tour I was happy to let them get some well-earned rest.

I managed to take a few photos with my mobile but such is the lacking legibility they could just as easily be colourful sneezes on the camera lens. I'll post them at some point, if only for novelty value, till then the images you can see now are taken from recent concert galleria on their official site (though I'm pretty sure Mr Bellamy was wearing the same top as shown above left). I really should've bothered to smuggle in my digital camera proper but I doubt any static shot could truly capture the energy on display, at least not so far from the stage. Alas for I was seated, and subsequently spent a lot of time peering with envy on those down in the pit (mosh not sarlacc). Next time I wanna be where the people are, I wanna see, wanna see 'em dancing, walkin' around on those, whaddya call 'em? Oh, feet. Yes, well, you get the point. I may not be the most physically suited to such tomfoolery but as long as they're not too severe the bruises can be passed off as souvenirs. And speaking of souvenirs, the black balloons released towards the end of the concert don't sound like much of a memento but there were visible scuffles for them. Still, all we got in the stands were rather pointless leaflets for Muse's albums, or more specifically, paper plane fodder.

The other delight of stadium seating was the proliferation of carbon copy schoolgirl 'fan girls'. You know the type: arms full of plastic bracelets, Rumple Stiltskin-esque tight efforts, probably love Linkin Park, may or may not have any clue whatsoever. I don't hate them as such, but there were two in my line of sight that insisted on standing throughout, pumping rawk hand signs into the air after 3 second intervals, making random 'wooooooo's and jumping even when there wasn't anything to jump to. I think they thought they were in the video to 'Losing Grip' by Avril Lavigne; they certainly looked the part. I myself didn't stand for the majority because being as self-conscious as ever I didn't want paranoid (or indeed actual) echoes of 'prick' spoiling the fun. It's all fun and games when you're a young girl but if you're over 6ft, gangly and not an impressive head-banging fiend by nature it's only going to piss someone off if you're blocking their view. I didn't jump either when my legs were stretched to maximum, although that was more down to the fear of falling down a couple of tiers if I got overly enthusiastic than looking a complete muppet.

Observed fashionable dress code was predictably black. Black leather coats, black hair, black Muse t-shirts - 90% of which were the same design. I've always assumed it was faux pas to attend clad purely in the band's merchandise and paraphernalia but hey, it's all good if you can pull it off. So we generally defied convention, with me as one of an endangered minority of natural blondes and my Bo'Selecta 'CHA'MONE MUTHA F***A' tee that attracted several noted admiring remarks and glances.

Some smaller titbits:

- Matt displayed his giant white egg shaped balloon heading and bursting skills.
- Not to mention his ability to play while standing on a large speaker. Woo.
- And letting us see down his throat courtesy of the microphone stand mounted camera.
- The beer apparently tasted of pretzels. I wouldn't know, I didn't touch any food or drink from breakfast onwards.
- Robin, however, was desperate to fulfil his recommended 9 glasses of fluid a day.
- And went the toilet no less than 5 times in under 4 hours.
- Twice of which he disappeared with Sy for some considerable time.
- It turns out they were upholding the cautious rules of public urinal use.
- My right arm suffered an attack of graffiti including 'Mike <3 Muse 03'.
- I actually concentrated on timing the Mexican wave properly.
- And still screwed up.

I've digressed from the virtuoso performance somewhat so it's only fair I conclude with yet another comment stating how good a night it was. It seems I wasn't the only one chuffed either as while exiting I heard the word 'orgasmic' used numerous times to describe the event. Indeed, I wouldn't be surprised if it literally was that for some. Perhaps that's even the real reason why Robin kept on rushing to the toilet ;)

it's just me against the muse-ick*

2003-11-29T15:01:00.001Z

*and Sy, Robin and his brother Alex. Alas, no Madonna (though if I had such a choice of a perfect guest anyway I’d pick someone specifically more speshul in their own way to accompany thee).

Seeing Muse in concert at the M.E.N. tonight :)

It was never intended as any kind of honey trap but our trip to the looming gig has coincided with a reconciliation between two of my dearest friends, Robin and Sy, after several weeks of me feeling very stuck in the middle with chew’. That is to say, like Chewbacca during Lando Calrissian's Cloud City betrayal of Han Solo. But it seems everyone is back fighting the Empire again now so I won’t bewail the past beyond that rather flaky Star Wars analogy.

Muse songs currently doing the rounds in my very excited head at the moment:

- Map Of Your Head
- Plug In Baby
- The Small Print
- Time Is Running Out
- Muscle Museum
- Hysteria
- In Your World
- Citizen Erased
- Falling Away With You
- Thoughts Of a Dying Atheist

lips are turning blue

It's been raining heavily most of today, not to mention absolutely freezing, so I'm wrapping up warm. I haven't even shaved since Tuesday so the unsightly 4-day growth may prove the difference between pneumonia and snugness. Furthermore due to the lack of dedicated automobile (or indeed the Millennium Falcon) we're making up the transport details more or less as we go. Not very wise especially since there's the potential for things to go very pear shaped and extremely expensive on the return leg. But hey, that's life.

Anyway I best be off to go bask in Matt Bellamy's brilliance then ;)

j00 r t3h 5uxx0rz !

2003-11-25T23:45:00.001Z

Too many images spoil the broth. I've almost filled my feeble 15mb ISP space. Oh dear...

a not ok computer

2003-11-21T14:08:00.000Z

*sigh* Pending the resolution of a few problems that are causing my PC to become as hot as the surface of the sun it looks increasingly likely I'll be on an enforced sabbatical from computery things for a while.

Since I haven't actually published anything that I've been beavering away on for the past few weeks anyway you won't really notice any difference. That said, if things aren't sorted soonish I'll probably post something via the trusty Dreamcast - a task which is about as simple as have a fluid conversation using only a Speak & Spell.

Speshul people in the know can keep me (in)sane via SMS.