Monday, 28 January 2008

Marks & Sponsors

Artists! Tonight! Sell-outs! Because selling is normally much cheaper than buying...

Salman Rushdie's Salmon [with a pinch of turmeric]

Marjorie Perloff's Margarine [I can't believe it's not Art!]

Gordon Brown's Brown Sauce [contains Monosodium Glutamate]

or, alternatively,

Gordon Brown's Gordons Gin [Slogan: His spirit always fails him]

Cormac McCarthy's Big Mac [Limited Edition]

Thomas Pynchon's Punch [Non-Alcoholic]

Wednesday, 16 January 2008

Like Father, Like Son

Nepotism in Hollywood, a long-standing tradition of favouritism for the untalented and the inept...

The Coppola family, what's that all about?

Ok, after George Bush was president of the U.S.A., people may have wondered whether his son might be able to perform an acceptable role wearing his same shoes. The answer is: obviously not. If Daddy was a fool, what made anyone think that Sonny would be any better? It is clearly not a family of geniuses, the way some might regard the Bach family. A similar theory can apply to the Coppola family, I believe. Francis Ford Coppola, I take my hat for you. The Godfather Trilogy, The Conversation and Apocalypse Now are all very compelling pieces of audio-visual story-telling. No complaints there. Now, Sofia and Roman: either stop making films or grow some personality. What you are doing makes the word bland mitself seem fairly insipid. Virgin Suicides was the film equivalent of toothless dog, whilst Lost In Translation was amazingly overhyped for an incredible underachievement. CQ was simply bad. Nicholas Cage? Well, at least he had the decency to show some shame and change his family name into the "Cage" stage moniker. I respect that, even if his filmography does include some very dubious titles. Marc Coppola, on the other hand, probably thinks that he must be able to act, since everyone else at home is doing it... Shameless. What about Jason Schwartzman, I hear you ask. Well, let's put it bluntly: he's a drummer. He is but a drummer.

An afterthought: And Christopher Coppola... well, no-one's heard of him, even though he has been directing for a while. Is that not a hint? Maybe he should take up gardening, or open a Petrol Station somewhere in Iowa.

The Paltrows? What the fuck?!?!?

When did the Paltrow family become such a big deal in Hollywood? Gwyneth is adorable, I admit, and she has won an Oscar. But what is an Oscar these days but a much devalued figurine one can buy on Ebay? The Academy Awards are being bought and sold in the meat market, and no-one seems to care anymore. After all, David Lynch has never won one, and he is one the most important directors of the last twenty years. Same thing with Fritz Lang and Stanley Kubrick. Orson Welles, Akira Kurosawa, Federico Fellini, Robert Altman and Michelangelo Antonioni only got Honorary Awards (the Academy's piss-poor excuse for a consolation prize, the equivalent of an unsigned note that reads: We're sorry, we really fucked up, didn't we?) Yet, Gwyneth wins an Oscar and gets to shove her little brother into the Industry. Jake (the brother) directed the appalling -yet accurately named- The Good Night, which sent more than one theatre full of people to sleep. Why? Good Lord, why are we being punished? Gwyneth and Jake's parents were both in the Film Industry, their mother an actress, their father a director, but neither produced anything of special relevance. So, I ask again, why? Why?

An afterthought: The Coldplay connection makes me want to puke into a pint glass and drink it slowly, savouring every single moment.

Spelling S - P - E - L - L - I - N - G

Aaron Spelling, clearly a man with a vision, regardless of whether we find that vision horrific and a distortion of everything that is good on Earth, has a daughter named Victoria "Tori" Spelling who -sorry about what I am about to say, but it is definitely true- is neither attractive to the eye nor a good actress. How -then- has she managed to appear so often on the TV screen, creating -as it were- a new form of visual pollution so strong and damaging that makes the Greenhouse Effect seem pitiable? Read this paragraph again and you should have little difficulty in finding the answer that question. Honestly, sometimes I wonder.

An afterthought: It is not that Tori is not very attractive. I believe it is the exact opposite: she is very unattractive. Surgery, anyone?

Brangelina: From L.A. to Ebay!

More Unconfirmed Gossip and Made-Up News, for the paranoid, the dellusional and those with too much time on their hands...

Unconfirmed reports relating the richest two-headed monster in Hollywood have leaked this week. Apparently, Brangelina Jolitt got a new baby this week on Amazon, but had to return it a few days later, as it took the Postal Service over a week to deliver the package. It would seem that the biological parents forgot to make breathing holes on the parcel, which resulted in the suffocation and subsequent death of the lovely, lovely baby. Furthermore, the postal delay made the remains unusable, as it was smelling pretty bad by the time Brangelina got it.

The baby, according to some analysts, one in a limited edition of seven, was a collector's item, and would have helped Brangelina come closer to "having one from each country in the world," which is the goal he/she/it? has set him/her/itself? for this brand new 2008 as a New Year's Resolution, said an unnamed and possibly unreliable source.

As the voice in the street has it, Brangelina would have found this new addition to the now legendary Hollywood collection by typing in the words baby, third-world, and bargain into a popular online auction and shopping website. Brangelina was assured by the seller that the product in question was in mint condition, yet Brangelina's lawyers insist the baby in question broke the terms and conditions of the contract by dying.

Lovely, lovely Hollywood.

Wednesday, 9 January 2008

Oranges en Regalia.

More Ideas for Books, that will find their end in the bonfire...

Silence and the Existencial Vaccum: A Reflection on the Life and Works of John Cage, roughly 433 pages long, no text whatsoever on its body. To be sent to every Public Library and Hospital in North America. They really need to learn to keep quiet.

Mr. Bush or: How I Learned to Stop Caring and Love the Bomb, a colouring book for children packed with G.W. Bush's drawings of faraway lands being maimed, foreign cultures micturated on, friendly peasants mutilated, their mother, wives and daughters raped, and bombs being dropped randomly around the world. In other words: the American Dream.

"Mom, what does apostasy mean?" and Another 99 Ways to get a Fatwa, a pop-up book created for educational purposes. The remaining paths to atheistic martyrdom including common mistakes such as Freedom of Speech, Independence of Thought, Naughty Jokes and Being Too Politically Correct for your Own Sake.

Why Did They Have to Die?, a extensive study on the unfair nature of life, raised by the deaths of Notorious B.I.G. and 2Pac, which came as a complete surprise to the International Community. The fact that they both hanged around gang members and criminals, looked pretty thuggish themselves and had a fondness for firearms should not be overstated. It could perhaps be kept as an interesting footnote, or a peculiar anecdote.

PS: I am still waiting for all of you Executive Producers to contact me, so you can give me several wads of large notes with the faces of presidents in exchange for the rights to make this blog into a film. Call me. Now.

Extra! Planet Earth to be Invaded by Creatures from Outer Space! Extra!

Ladies and Laddies, we are floating in space...

Well, not really. No, I admit it. As far as the Editorial Department of the blog knows, there are no plans for future Invasions of Planet Earth by Creatures from Outer Space until after Easter 2009. And we are not actually floating in Space either. Although the Earth is floating in space, and -since we are all on it- I suppose that to some extent we, in fact, are floating in Space.

So I retract that retraction. The second one, that is.

I am glad we clarified that. Kind of.

Well, that seems to me to be enough blog material for today. Tomorrow: Gardening!

On the Significance of Names and Naming...

A Rosé by Any Other Name is still nothing compared to a good Cabernet-Sauvignon

Apparently, William Carlos Williams, Ford Madox Ford, Jerome K. Jerome, Thomas T. Thomas, Humbert Humbert, Major Major Major Major, Sirhan Bishara Sirhan, Doug E. Doug, Bond James Bond, the founding members of Duran Duran and The The, and the rest of the Slightly Anagrammatic League for the Affiliation of Men of Intellect -also known by its acronymic moniker, S.A.L.A.M.I.- has denied posthumous membership to the Right Reverend John Johns [Doctor of Divinity and Doctor of Laws], Fourth Episcopal Bishop of Virginia, U.S.A.

The reason for this nominal apartheid was made clear by a spokesman for S.A.L.A.M.I., who is quoted as stating that "he [Rd. John Johns] didn't have a middle name, nor a double-barrelled surname, man (...) so he was unsuitable for our group. His name looks like two slices of white, bleached, branless bread (...) a sandwich with no S.A.L.A.M.I., if you will. It looks just like a threesome without a Lucky Pierre in the middle, a tricycle with a flat tyre... d'you know what I mean?"

No, sir, we do not know what you mean. But, in any case, thank you for saying it.

Reverend Johns's last words, uttered on his deathbed ("guide me-wash me-clothe me, help me under the shadow of Thy wings") have been interpreted by many a Man of Scholarly Pursuits as substantial proof that he was -or, at least, had at some point been- best friends with a fashion-conscious Dragon. This, of course, is the only way in which we can explain such a random statement at the 11th Hour, as well as his interest in the paranormal.

The name of the Dragon itself remains a mystery. Although I like to think its name was either Eugene or Lucretia. But that's just me.

Friday, 4 January 2008

Fake Radiohead Tickets Racket!

Some Wise Words of Advice on ways to tell whether your tickets are genuine or counterfeit:

1- Open your stupid eyes.

2- Put on your stupid glasses.

3a- Have the tickets been coloured in with crayons?
3b- If so, they are likely to be fake.

4a- Did you pay under £40 for each ticket?
4b- If so, they are very likely to be fake.

5a- Does the font on the tickets look like someone's handwriting?
5b- If so, it is quite likely to be someone's handwriting.
5c- If so, they are incredibly likely to be fake.
5d- If so, it is extremely likely that you are a moron and have simply failed to realise it, a situation that is not entirely uncommon amongst morons. For further reference, look up the word "moron" in a dictionary.