COMMENT IS FREE… THERE’S A REASON FOR THAT.

FACT OF THE WEEK: You secretly fancy Kate McCann


HAIKU REVIEW

This week, Charlie Wilson’s War…

Tom Hanks drinks whiskey,

Seymore Hoffman hates Russians,

Some woman’s there too


MAIN EVENT:

The internet is cool. We know this because the media tells us so every day. Those guys love the internet. If the internet were a rock star, the media would be a queue of groupies jostling to give it a long lingering blow job while it talks to its tour manager about t-shirt sales. Get more than one media type together and the conversation - after the customary discussion of where they can get some cocaine - will turn to the wonders of the internet and how it’s going to change everything, literally everything, every-fucking-thing!

In any such discussion one buzzword that’s sure to be bandied about is ‘Web 2.0’. Good rule of thumb: the first person to use the phrase is generally the biggest nob-head in the room. It refers largely to the explosion of user participation sites like YouTube, Facebook and Wikipedia which wouldn’t exist without people writing or uploading ‘content’ to them.

The media, like a child who’s just learnt their first joke and expects it to be as funny every time they tell it, has decided to tack on a user generated content element to half its output. UGC ‘innovations’ include things like ‘BBC Writer’s Room’, ‘Comedy Lab’ and Guardian Unlimited’s ‘Comment is Free’ section – by far the internet’s biggest nutter magnet. For all its lofty aspirations it’s basically just a way of getting keyword searchable text, videos and sometimes entire programmes without spending any money! Saying that comment is free is basically the same as saying that coming over to the Guardian offices and making us all a cup of tea is free. Of course it’s free I’m driving traffic to your site!!!

By far the worst offenders in this respect are the news media. Local news in particular, you’ve all heard the appeals, ‘Filmed anything on a grainy camera phone today? Got any nice pictures of snow? well send them in and we’ll put them on telly.’ No! Find your own news, you’re the journalist, you’ve got pens and pads and cars go drive to the news you lazy local bastards!

National news is just as bad though. There’s currently a troubling obsession with reading out the demented texts of viewers. This strikes me as a bit odd. When you’ve carefully prepared and meticulously researched a report and then illustrated that report by discussing it with experts live on TV, is it really necessary to get John from Hemmel-Hempstead to weigh in?

Ironically ‘News Round’ was doing this ten years ago, way before it was cool. I remember the comments from children scrolling across the screen. They were always weirdly right wing and reactionary and always ended with the phrase, ‘It should be banned!’ For example ‘kissing in public is disgusting! It should be banned!’ – Kelly, aged 8, Durham. This isn’t the first time Newsround has predicted the zeitgeist either, think of the changes in TV news over the last few years, presenters without ties, standing up whilst reading the news, Krishnan - all News Round innovations.

But that’s off the point. What was the point? Oh yeah, Web 2.0. Another feature of Web 2.0 is synchronised media pant wetting over new online features like Internet TV. Internet TV is admittedly quite a cool idea in theory, though almost invariably shit in practice. The reason is that whilst you can get a guy to build you a channel for about 80k, TV programs are y’know actually quite expensive and hard to make.

So the channel controllers think, right I’ll get a load of UGC from the public, we’ll call it ‘Guerilla Telly’ or some shit, they’ll love it. Instantly 5 million students say ‘brilliant we’ll do it.’ However, anyone with the wherewithal to actually have a good idea realises that giving up their intellectual property for absolutely no reward is a stupid thing to do and puts their show on YouTube instead, where it stands a fighting chance of generating some buzz because thousands of people are actually watching it. Meanwhile, the channel controllers are counting the cost of the Guerilla TV publicity campaign and hiring two researchers to sift through the videos the students have sent in, all of which involve at least 12 breaches of copyright and are therefore useless.

With their entire operating budget wasted on absolutely nothing, they are forced to go cap in hand to big name brands and ask for their ‘branded content’ or in English, the adverts they have vaguely disguised as programmes. Half the time they won’t even give these up because by now the idea for what the channel was initially supposed to be has been changed, revamped and mangled so many times that it no longer makes even basic sense when they pitch it. The brands therefore think, fuck that we’ll be tainted by association.

The end result looks something like this… www.canned.tv

Hooray for the internet!



It’s not all bad though some channels have actually managed to make a go of it…

VBS.TV – Like MTV in the early nineties only a bit better.

MANIATV.COM – Decent American indie station. Has ridiculously good guests.

There are others that are worth checking out too, if you really want to know email me or something.

THE US ELECTION. BETTER THAN X-FACTOR?

FACT OF THE WEEK: In private God refers to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s baby as ‘My Sistine Chapel’.

SEE THIS: I bet this video bought her an FBI file. For her sake I hope it’s ironic. “Universal healthcare reform, it makes me warm.” WHAT!?!?! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKsoXHYICqU&NR=1

MAIN EVENT

In Medieval times Kings and wealthy landowners would often employ a Court Jester to entertain them. These individuals were not comedians per se, usually just mentally ill people that the courtiers would taunt until they cried for the amusement of the king. This form of entertainment still exists, in fact it has proliferated over time though it is now known as reality television.

I’m a huge fan of these kinds of TV programs. They combine the homely charm of a game show with the visceral thrill of driving past a car crash. Like literally everything else, the best reality TV comes from the good old USA. Their programmes, or shows feature better looking people than ours as well as music so dramatic that it basically implies that the couple eliminated in ‘Beauty and the Geek’ is going to be made to play Russian Roulette with each other for the chance to live (I’d watch it).

I think the Americans may have surpassed themselves with their new show though. It’s called ‘The Election’. The format borrows heavily from Survivor: contestants are divided into two tribes - though in ‘The Election’ they’re called parties - and forced to do battle with each other and every now and then – there doesn’t seem to be a logical timetable – the public votes on who they most like. Eventually the winners from both tribes will go head to head and, get this, the winner gets to run the whole of the USA for four years!!

That’s a pretty good prize. God knows how they managed to swing it with the government.

The tribes in ‘The Election’ are called Republican and Democrat - the names aren’t as good as in Survivor I know.

The Democrats have done a pretty good job of eliminating each other and now there’s only two left, bubbly blonde Hilary and token black guy Barak. Hilary wasn’t doing too well for a while but then she won the public over by accidentally crying on TV. Barak likes to talk about change, he’s a big fan of change; ‘America needs change’ etc. I agree totally. Without change all prices would have to be in multiples of five or ten, buying chewing gum would be brutal. I’m going for Obama.

The Republican tribe is more competitive. It’s basically a race between four white men, the most interesting being Rudy and Mike. Mike is overweight and balding and seems to think that standing next to a lean martial-arts star will make him look better. His policies include Chuck Norris and playing the electric guitar. Rudy is the ex major of New York. According to my blogging friend Billy-Joe from Iowa his hobbies include abortion and gay marriage. He also single-handedly gave New Yorkers hope after 9/11 by wearing baseball caps and hugging firemen. He’s modest too, he won’t talk about it. The only people who ever mention it are his campaign team and press briefers.

I’ve got no idea how it’ll all turn out. Can’t wait to find out though.

THINGS I WOULD TELL MYSELF AGED 14

FACT OF THE WEEK: Everybody in the world has at some point claimed to love a film/book/band they have never heard of in order to prop up a flagging conversation they don’t want to have with a stranger they know they will never see again.

SEE THIS: People occasionally ask me why I don’t want to work in production any more. I normally tell them to mind their own fucking business and poke them in the eye, but from now on I’ll refer them to this… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIyg2a72uV4

Haiku Review

This Week, a critique of the Stacey/Bradley/Max/Tanya love-parallelogram that’s been the only thing happening in Eastenders since the late nineties.

Buxom blonde Sexpot

Borderline Downs Syndrome case

Not a tough call mate

MAIN EVENT

In ten days I will be 24. Amongst all the usual soul searching and void staring I’ve been thinking about myself a decade ago when I sported a floppy hair glasses and a stone too much weight (How far I’ve come). Young Matt - or as I like to call him, the moody little bastard who I no longer share any bodily cells with and could easily deck - like every teenager knew fuck all about fuck all and could have saved himself a lot of bother with a few simple bits of knowledge.

Here are some of the things I would tell the little Pissant if i had a time machine.

MUSIC

The following albums, whilst kind of fun at the time of purchase, will have you asking ‘What the fuck was I thinking?’ mere days afterwards…

The Darkness ‘Permission to Land’

Dodgy ‘The Dodgy Album’

Blur ‘The Great Escape’

Razorlight ‘Up All Night’

In fact, don’t buy any new music at all after 2001 – trust me it’ll be easier on you.

Oh, and there are four ten year olds in Manchester who are going to outsell the Beatles in a few years. Deal with the anger now, that way you can just enjoy the album when it comes out.

GIRLS

Girls are no more impressed by good guitar playing than they are by average guitar playing so don’t waste too much time learning to finger tap.

Quoting poetry to a young lady loses some of its impact if you pick one of the GCSE set texts that she is also studying.

Casual sex is a spiritually hollow meaningless pass-time, but then again so are most of the things you’ll do in the next ten years so go for it.

Anyone who listens to Sum 41 is a virgin and will be for a while.

SCHOOL

Geography/RS/Latin/Business Studies/Chemistry is a waste of everyone’s time.

In fact, the only piece of information your brain will actually retain from school is how an Oxbow lake forms, so keep it all in perspective.

CAREER

Sit down because this is a big one. The A-levels and GCSEs you’re shitting your pants over completely meaningless AND unless you want to be a doctor, solicitor or something like that (you don’t, many people would die and go to prison) it actually doesn’t matter where you go to university, or how you do.

In fact, seriously consider fucking uni off entirely when you’re 18. In three years you’ll have your own flat, a car and three years of experience and skills that will look a lot tastier to employers than a dissertation on the post-modern semiotics of Battlestar Galactica. You could probably even hire one of your mates who went to uni as a runner/PA.

Knowing me, by this point I’d have told myself to fuck off so that’s it.

With apologies to Woody Allen for accidentally nicking one of his jokes. Try to guess which one… It’s the funny one.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!PEACE OUT PLAYAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SUICIDE BOMBING… I THINK I SPOT A FLAW IN THE LOGIC.

FACT OF THE WEEK: The real reason that actors are boycotting the Golden Globes is that they’re shit scared of having to write their own speeches.

WATCH THIS: A few of you will have seen this, but if you haven’t you’re in for a treat. http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=I_tDNKYOwSI

HAIKU REVIEW: New feature in which I abuse the ancient Japanese art of Haiku by using it as a vehicle to review a film or song etc. This week, the new Will Smith film ‘I Am Legend.’

Fresh Prince All Alone

Zombies About, Careful Mate

Well Pointless Excursion!

I think that tells you all you need to know.

MAIN EVENT

Am I talking about the ideological contradiction of harming God’s own creations in his name or the fact that blowing yourself up erodes any sympathy others may have had for your cause? Not really. What puzzles me is the 72 virgins thing.

Theoretically speaking if I was to blow myself up in Lidl - something which from time to time I do consider - destroying several hundred pence worth of the great Satan’s frozen produce then, according to some interpretations of the Koran, I would be rewarded with 10.3 water-polo teams’ worth of inexperienced but nubile young ladies.

Sounds good. Or does it? To be honest, I don’t think these kids in training camps have properly thought it through.

Firstly. With the best will in the world, sex with virgins is unlikely to be that great at first. Particularly considering that a lot of bombers are impressionable teenagers, who won’t exactly be great lovers themselves, you’re probably in for at least a month of figuring it out. After that you’ve got to train all these women up, that could take anything up to five years as it would have to be one-on-one tuition - these girls are demure goddesses that would be far to embarrassed by any attempt at some kind of group seminar.

When you finally do have your 72 trained ladies, the question of what else is there to do rears its ugly head. You can’t shag all the time. What is there to do in heaven when not fornicating with your herd of women? Is there a bowling alley or something nearby? If so how will I get there? Do I have a bus? Come to think of it where do we live? Are we all in a big house like in ‘The Batchelor’ or in some kind of garden of Eden type scenario? Can I visit the other martyrs and their harems and finally have a barbeque party like the ones you see in hip-hop videos? These are the kind of logistical questions that would worry me and probably result in me getting kicked out of my terrorist cell.

Also, isn’t this all a bit sexist? What about the female suicide bombers? Correct me if I’m wrong ladies, but 72 male virgins is probably an even less appealing prospect. Hanadi Jaradat, who bombed the maxim restaurant in Haifa three years ago is probably up there now with six dozen Games Workshop assistants. Doesn’t sound much fun to me, unless you can’t remember the exact phrasing of a Monty Python quote in which case they’d be really useful.

Well I’ve trivialised this issue enough. I’m off.

PS: Before any of you smart-arses point this out. I’m aware that the traditional Aramaic translation of the Koran actually promises martyrs 72 white grapes. But that’s not as funny.

Pretty Much Everyone who Works at Radio 1 is a Twat… Except for Colin Murray

FACT OF THE WEEK: To get a job at B&Q you have to be either under 20 or over 60 years old. Borderline autistic social skills are preferred.

GO SEE THIS: I laughed so much when I saw this that the friend who showed it to me considered calling a priest. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aT2wbnOfoEE

MAIN EVENT:

For anyone who may be thinking along the lines of the traditional ‘just don’t listen then’ retort I say only this: It is an unavoidable fact of life that everyone has at some point listened to Radio One for an extended period of time. This is largely due to a law passed in 1995 stipulating that the station should be played constantly at every minimum wage workplace and every office staff room in the country. This means that everyone who has ever worked in a kitchen, factory, warehouse, shop, building site or any shit job for that matter will have been subjected to the anodyne station and its 12 song loop.

The music, though invariably average, actually serves as a blessed relief compared to the dronings of the presenters. This cretinous collection of individuals appear to have forgotten that they are no more than skinbags employed to press a play button and thus spend huge amounts of airtime sharing their half baked musings with the public (starting your own blog and cajoling your friends into viewing it once a week is of course a different Kettle of fish entirely).

Here are some of the Worst offenders…

JABBA THE MOYLES: Bernard Manning for the Ipod generation. As he never tires of informing the country Mr. Moyles is most successful breakfast radio DJ ever, though he unfortunately fails to realise that this is mainly because he has the kind of grating, nasal voice that is completely impossible to ignore and fall back to sleep, forcing the country to get up, turn him off and go to work on time.

He is so self-absorbed that he once completely failed to see why a yelping impression of a stereotypical black sit-com character might be offensive to Halle Berry, who he was interviewing at the time.

JO WHY-OH-DEAR-GOD-WILEY: I know she seems nice, but consider the following.

Jo fronts a TV show that failed to find even an average band from all the unsigned acts in the country when half an hour on Myspace invariably yields four or five gems.

She has a section on her show called changing tracks that basically serves as an avenue for emo children to talk about how My Chemical Romance cured their eating disorder - nothing to do with doctors, psychologists or parental support then?

Despite being the very embodiment of the ‘cool-Christian’ that came to your school to tell you not to do drugs, she’s one of the most powerful people in UK music and therefore partly responsible for its current state. I think that’s reason enough to burn her at the stake.

SCOTT NO-THRILLS-MILLS

You’d be forgiven for thinking that Scott Mills got his job as a Radio 1 DJ through Adecco when his office administrator placement finished, such is the lack of enthusiasm for music he exhibits. Even in an age when every public patch of grass has at least three a year, Mills had never been to a music festival before a trip to Glastonbury a couple of years ago. I’m not saying that every DJ should be a bearded, record bag wielding, lentil smelling, skinny tied nerd but it would be nice to think they have some idea.

Another problem I have with Scotty boy is ‘Flirt Divert’. In this mean-spirited little segment, women are encouraged to give out a special number to would be suitors they deem unfit to bask in the glow of their beauty. When the poor bastards - whose only crime let’s remember is to attempt to start a conversation in a public place - call the number they get put through to Mills’ answer machine, he then plays the messages on his show and guffaws like toddler at a pantomime.

I guarantee you the girls giving out the Flirt Divert number are the same ones whining about how they never meet any good men. Could it be because if they put a foot wrong with their approach they risk humiliation on the national stage?

ZANE LOWEST-COMMON-DENOMINATOR: Stop shouting at me Zane! Just bloody stop it! I like Roots Manuva too but I don’t shout at you do I?

COLIN -ACTUALLY A NICE BLOKE- MURRAY: He’s the exception that proves the rule. I once met this guy after a DJ gig he played in Bournemouth, he was buzzing off his tits and challenged me and my friends to a game of beach football. We agreed. On the way to the beach he made his tour manager stop the car at a service station so he could buy porn and Dairy Lee Dunkers. Seriously!

What-A-Legend!