Satan's Trumpet

'Sports Nuts' Was the Clincher

2010-07-15T02:28:00.000Z

Here's my new favourite picture I found on the Internet:

At a push I reckon I could get behind at least 70% of that.

Radio Dread

2010-02-04T23:37:00.000Z

Apparently, the BBC are thinking about junking 6 Music, along with a number of other 'underperforming' digital radio stations.

The demise of 6 Music would put quite a significant hole in my radio listening life, and the prospect of the almost reverse Sophie's Choice-type scenario of auditioning the likes of Radios 1, 2 or Absolute as a permanent replacement fills me with dread.

I love 6 Music. It's sort of like what Radio 1 would be like if they ritually killed their playlist staff and put some kind of special detectors on the doors that kept out wankers. Clearly George Lamb found an open window somewhere.

All of this hooplah is based on no more than the simple fact that people apparently aren't really listening to digital radio, but the thing is... I think that they actually are, and in greater numbers than the current system of measuring would suggest.

You see, it's possible that the BBC has actually done its job of surfing the bleeding edge of new technology a bit too well, to the point where it has almost singlehandedly changed the way in which people consume radio and television.

I listen to a near ballbag-bursting amount of radio, but virtually every single second of it is via some kind of podcast or timeshifting service. iPlayer content and edited podcasts of shows are seemingly not registered under the ancient RAJAR system of compiling listening figures, which I believe still involves some kind of pen and notebook scenario, and possibly a special hat.

Consequently, were I charged with keeping track of my listening habits, none of it would count, so it would seem like I wasn't listening to any BBC radio at all. My TV viewing would likewise seem to be all but non-existent if catching up on shows via my computer was not counted. Factor in online-sourced watching/listening however, and the true picture of my virtual housebound status is revealed.

So what I'm saying to the BBC is - because I know you're reading this - before doing something you may regret, perhaps at least try to take into account the many and varied ways in which people might consume your digital output other than via listening live, because where I live in particular, getting a decent DAB signal is less likely than getting your watch back after giving it to a tramp to hold.

Therefore, even though I consider social networking and the like to be the work of the Devil, someone has set up a group supporting 6 Music, so therefore I would urge you - just this once - to brave the inevitable emo haircuts and general wankery of Facebook and join it. The link is over there --->

Also, for the truly adventurous, you may wish to start popularising the #Save6Music hash tag on the inexplicably popular Twitter. It didn't change Iran, but I'll think you'll agree that this is much more important.

Credit Crunch Hits Rappers Hard

2009-11-16T02:34:00.000Z

Lily Allen Update

2009-09-25T18:41:00.009Z

There's been a lot of confusion lately about where British cultural icon Lily Allen stands on 'stuff', so here's a brief rundown on what she currently considers alright and 'not alright':

Alright

Drugs
That's dealing them as well as taking them.
Cricket
It's the new getting drunk and swearing at Elton John, apparently.
Peter Mandelson
"He's actually not such a total cunt when you get to know him," she probably never said.

Not Alright

Thanks Lily Allen!

2 Down, 6,395,804 to Go

2009-09-22T15:10:00.009Z

Further to my efforts to make this blog of at least some use to society, I thought I'd share the resolutions to a couple of problems I'd been grappling with after what seems like several lifetimes-worth of Googling/screen-punching frustration.

I'm talking about the kinds of problems that linger for so long you come to a point where you almost accept that you're just going to have to live with them, such is the apparent paucity of information or even recognition of the issue in the wider tech world.

The Not-So-Random CPU Spikes

Firstly, it was our old friend, random CPU spikes. Previously, the problems I'd had in this area had eventually - reluctantly - caused me to do a clean install in order to sort the swines - there really didn't seem to be any obvious cause or solution in that instance.

Best I could figure, it was some remnant from a virus that hadn't entirely been dealt with previously.

Those CPU spikes genuinely were random though - you'd never know when they were going to hit, making for watching any video file a haphazard experience at best.

The more recent issue though seemed much more regimented, and - whilst still hugely irritating - much less frequent. They would always occur at least once when watching anything, which, while less of an issue than what I'd experienced before, still had the effect of taking you out of the story or whatever, particularly when you knew it was going to occur at some point.

Process Explorer indicated that these spikes were caused by some aspect of explorer.exe or simply 'System', which was little help as there are any number of sub-processes under those umbrellas.

Eventually - without actually timing it - I worked out that they seemed to occur about once every half hour, but I still couldn't find any cause for it. If I had timed it, I would have discovered that they occurred exactly every half-hour, on the hour and half-hour - because it was my ruddy background wallpaper changing over that was doing it.

The only reason I know this, is because I happened to have Process Explorer open (and not maximized) at the exact moment the picture changed. If not for that particular combination of events, I'd probably still be putting up with it now, like some Tourette's suffer that's resigned to the fact that at some point he will shout, "Bollocks," in the supermarket.

You see, I'm using Windows 7, and I'd gotten sick of looking at that stupid fish on my desktop, so I decided I wanted a change. For some reason, I decided I'd quite like a dynamic wallpaper, i.e. a background that changes periodically. I didn't even know if such things existed, and a cursory web search suggested that they weren't too prevalent. Out of interest, I decided to see what Win 7 has in terms of alternatives, and what do you know? It only has some dynamic wallpapers pre-loaded.

I went for the views of Britain selection, being a patriotic sort... (not really, in fact the images were a bit too chocolate box-y for my liking to be honest), and every half-hour I was treated to another view from this fair isle.

If I'd known that each one would be accompanied by a ludicrous power draining changeover, they could keep it. In fact, as soon as I realised what was going on, that fish was immediately back swimming behind my desktop icons.

Anyway, that's the long and rather dull story of how I sorted some CPU spikes. Perhaps you've been tearing your hair out wondering what the chuff might be causing your computer-based viewing to be so rudely interrupted approximately twice an hour, every hour. Well, perhaps this post may have just enlightened you.

I don't know if any other dynamic backgrounds cause this, but I suspect they probably would, although I'm not really sure why it would provoke such a system fit just to change a flipping picture.

Giving Windows Search Index the Finger

My most recent success involves the curious case of the search index that wouldn't rebuild.

For reasons I can't even remember properly, having started this so long ago, I decided to rebuild the search index on my computer. I think I actually changed some of the indexing options, which caused it to rebuild the entire thing from scratch.

I'd heard it could take a while, but I was prepared to wait. I didn't quite expect to still be waiting for it to finish about two months later.

Initially it seemed fine, but whenever it got to a certain number of files indexed, approximately 16,000, my whole system seemed to seize up. On an on it went, chugging away, monopolizing my computer's poor CPU, managing to index about 1 file every hour - if it moved at all. Eventually I just turned it off altogether, because the constant whirring of my CPU fan threatened to drive me insane.

I occasionally let it work overnight to see if would get anywhere. It never did. SearchFilterHost.exe and its hogging of CPU cycles became a regular fixture in Task Manager.

After looking around the Web, I noticed some people with a similar issue found that if they uninstalled certain audio/video decoders, that seemed to do the trick. Indeed, Process Explorer seemed to indicate that these kind of files were in use when the indexing process ground to a halt, even when no media was being played.

I immediately uninstalled the K-Lite Codec Pack, and a conversion program called SUPER and restarted my computer. And guess what? Yes, it exploded. Not really, it of course started indexing normally (and, mercifully, silently) as it should.

So the upshot? Windows Search Indexing chokes on splitter files, in other words anything with an .ax extension. If you have any of these on your system, get rid of them, at least temporarily, if you want your indexing to go smoothly. Just prepare for a certain amount of chokage when you eventually put them back on.

Why Did You Get That Hat?

2009-07-04T15:19:00.006Z

Not being a member of the indolent rich (much to my chagrin), I've never been overly interested in the various society engagements that seem to engender an unwarranted amount of coverage in the media, with the annual hat expo that is Ladies' Day at Ascot being a prime example.

This year however, the sheer levels of attention-seeking from attendees would appear to have reached epic proportions. Not content with simply wearing a hat at least four sizes too large in order to try and get themselves a couple of seconds on telly, or photographed for one of those quirky junk pieces in one of the more class obsessed tabloids, 2009 will surely mark the point at which Ladies' Day at Royal Ascot officially became some kind of Rag Week for posh people.

Check out some more pictures here:

http://www.express.co.uk/galleries/thumbs/559

As an addendum, just in case at some point in the future that link stops working or they've changed it since, it's worth noting that at the time of writing the Daily Express's tagline is 'The World's Greatest Newspaper'.

A bold claim, but I should point out that I recently visited a page from Fox News which bore the strapline 'Fair and Balanced', when only goes to prove that there's clearly no legislation when it comes to slogans.

Shit Involved in Self-Writing Incident

2009-06-20T20:27:00.005Z

I know haven't 'blogged' properly for ages (I'm currently seeing a specialist), but I just had to impart this:

Frank Skinner's show on Absolute Radio (née Virgin) is sponsored by Wine Rack and Threshers.

Yes, that's Frank Skinner, one of Britain's most famous recovering alcoholics.

How to Stop Firefox Becoming an Uncontrollable Memory Fiend

2009-04-20T18:07:00.017Z

Seeing as this blog was just sat here gathering dust, I thought I might as well put it to some use, rather than have it act as some kind of archive for my petty grievances with the rest of the world.

Recently, I've being having something of a 'mare with Firefox.

Namely, it's been taking a dog's age to start up and even longer to quit, while in between its consumption of my computer's memory has been something akin to a fat man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

A fat man who quickly finishes all the food, and starts chomping on the fixtures and fittings.

In fact, more often than not I'm forced to shut it down manually from Task Manager, rather than experience the life force slowly ebb out of me waiting for it to end.

It's made my favourite browser almost unusable, and at the time of typing, I can't honestly say that it's entirely sorted, but I have discovered some extremely useful tricks that I thought I should share.

Check Your Add-ons

Boring, I know, and every guide I've read to try and solve my problem (I've read a lot) mentions this, but it's worth doing.

Firstly, check for updates to Firefox (Help -> Check for Updates). In the event that this does not magically solve the problem, close down Firefox in start it in Safe Mode (select it from the Programs menu), making sure to select the option that disables all extensions.
Use it for a bit and have a look in Task Manager (Ctrl+Alt+Delete) under the 'Processes' tab to see if you're still getting excessive memory usage, and whether Firefox is still taking an unusually long time to completely close.
If you're still getting problems in this state, you might possibly be better off completely reinstalling Firefox altogether, but make a backup of your Firefox profile first, as you may be able to save things like bookmarks, history and other preferences etc.
It's usually stored in C:\Documents and Settings\username\Application Data\Mozilla\Firefox\Profiles
In truth, performance problems are usually caused by some kind of conflict with extensions, so you should find you don't have many problems using Firefox in Safe Mode.
In Firefox, go to Tools > Add-ons and look under 'Extensions'. Click the 'Find Updates' button, install any new versions if found, then restart Firefox.
Go here: http://kb.mozillazine.org/Problematic_extensions and see if any of the add-ons you use are in the list. If they are, follow the suggestions for each one, usually involving replacing them with a similar one or uninstalling them altogether.
Frankly, no matter how useful an add-on may be, if it's compromising the overall performance of your browser to the point of near-unusability, you're better off without it.

Pimp Your Preferences

Here's a fantastic tip which is so good, I can't believe it isn't incorporated into Firefox by default.

Go to Firefox's address bar at the top and type in about:config, then press Enter.
Click the 'I'll be careful, I promise!' button and then right click on the page and select New -> Boolean.
In the pop-up, enter config.trim_on_minimize and press Enter.
Select True and then press Enter.
Restart Firefox.

Now, whenever you minimize Firefox, its memory usage sort of 'resets', and while it does build up again, usually it should top off at a much more manageable level.

Major 'props' to the techgurls blog for that one.

Greedy Google Toolbar

Google Toolbar can be very useful indeed, what with all the customisable buttons and that, but recently it seems to have developed something of a memory habit akin to a junkie needing a regular fix.

It's time for an intervention.

Navigate to your Firefox profile folder, (usually C:\Documents and Settings\username\Application Data\Mozilla\Firefox\Profiles) and look for a file named places.sqlite.

If this file seems ridiculously large (mine was about 180 MB; even for a heavy user of Firefox it really should be a fraction of that), then Google Toolbar may be to blame.

You see, it rather over-zealously makes a thumbnail of every page you visit, just in case that page becomes one of your most frequently visited pages, and it needs to have an image of it for use in the 'new tab' page.

You may never have even seen this page, but regardless I would say this feature is certainly less than essential. If it's crippling your browser though, then it really needs to be turned off.

Click on the little spanner (wrench for our American friends) logo at the right of Google Toolbar, or simply right click in the toolbar and select 'Google Toolbar Options'.
Under the 'Search' heading, uncheck the option that says 'Enable the Google new tab page' then click the 'Save' button. Close down Firefox.
Make a copy of your Firefox profile folder and save it somewhere like the Desktop. Y'know, just in case.
Download SQLite Database Browser and extract the contents.
Start the application inside the folder, and in the window click on the yellow folder icon at the top left. Navigate to places.sqlite in your Firefox profile folder and open it.
Click on the tab labelled 'Browse Data', then click the drop-down box beneath and select 'moz-anno_attributes'. Make a note of the id number for google-toolbar/thumbnail and google-toolbar/thumbnail-score. (For me it was 10 and 11 respectively).
Click the Execute SQL tab and in the SQL string box paste:
delete from moz_annos where anno_attribute_id = 10; // 10 = 'google-toolbar/thumbnail' vacuum;
Of course, if the id number is different for you change it accordingly.
Click the 'Execute query' button.
Repeat this for the other attribute:
delete from moz_annos where anno_attribute_id = 11; // 11 = 'google-toolbar/thumbnail-score' vacuum;
Click File -> Compact Database.

Now, have a look and see how big places.sqlite is in your Firefox profile folder. If this has worked anything like it did for me, it should be at least a tenth of the size.

Thanks to the peeps on this thread for the technical nerdery on this one.

Right, if your Firefox browser doesn't work better after all of that, I will personally send you $1,000 dollars.*

*No money will be sent.

Pulling the Blog

2008-05-03T09:09:00.010Z

I've lost that blogging feeling somewhat of late. Not that I particularly had it in the first place.

Since Biffo shut down operations - without even leaving a picture of a big spunking cock behind this time - I've found it increasingly difficult to get enthusiastic about anything in the blogosphere, given that Mr. B's ramblings were pretty much the only thing I read on a regular basis. I've certainly found it increasingly difficult to muster up the energy to convert my own event-free existence into a readable form.

I was under the impression that Biffo was only taking a break, but the prolonged absence of any new content (or indeed any content whatsoever - his blog merely remains as some kind of placeholder, with even the promise of previous writings appearing in some kind of archive form apparently having been shelved) would suggest that he's officially had enough with sharing his life with bunch of perfect strangers. Which is fair enough really.

Interestingly he's also jacked in his Edge column, and even his own website now only exists as an advert for his books (for now at least - apparently the publisher of Confessions of a Chatroom Freak has gone into liquidation. It seems that it's not only Biffo himself that's determined to wipe every trace of him from the Net).

I can't really blame him for wanting to go to ground. As entertaining a part of my daily routine reading his stuff was, he's under no obligation to write anything whatsoever for the edification of feckless Internet boreds like myself, and the disproportionate levels of hostility that can be generated by, for example, simply telling the truth about witnessing some games industry corporate tosspot making a tit of himself at a music event, could also be a factor in his disappearance.

Digitser was the perfect blend of gaming news and outright nonsense; a magazine in which the best thing about it was frequently the stuff that didn't even have anything to do with games. Given the games industry's propensity for long periods of relative inactivity, or simply the volume of dross it chooses to foist upon us, taking a wander down Digi's surreal B-roads could make a review of even the most boring car simulator essential reading. The current residents in that esteemed slot should take note.

When Digitiser flew off in a big Death Egg into the clouds in 2003, we thought we'd seen the end of Biffo, but thankfully he kept his 'hand' in, writing a column for Edge, and later thrilling nerds like myself by starting his popular blog, retaining his famous writing style, but unencumbered by having to rewrite hyperbolic press releases about how the new PlayStation was more powerful than a thousand suns, or something. He could make even a trip to the supermarket an entertaining tale of heartache and sexual harassment, resulting in that rarest of things - a blog that people actually want to read (and yes, I am aware of the irony).

So consider this post some kind of - admittedly fairly poxy - tribute, to a man who has entertained and informed in one form or another for significant chunk of both my gaming and non-gaming life.

To Biffo - bottoms out!

Direct-Me-Don't Addendum

2008-02-02T22:01:00.004Z

In my last post I half-jokingly mentioned that there must be something about my demeanour that caused people to find me inherently unreliable or untrustworthy - so much so that seemingly I could not even be relied upon to convey the correct time.

Well, a couple of days later that very thing happened - a bloke at a bus stop asked me for the time, which I duly obliged with an appropriate level of accuracy (we were waiting for a bus - minutes are important). He clearly wasn't convinced however, because mere moments later he decided to ask a bunch of thugs that happened to be walking past the very same question, apparently bothered enough about eliciting a second opinion that he was prepared to risk bringing a sound kicking down upon both of us.

Direct-Me-Don't

2008-01-29T22:42:00.002Z

Someone stopped me and asked for directions the other day.

This could turn out to be the biggest mistake he'll make all year, and I can't help but wonder if he isn't still wandering the various blind alleys I'd clearly sent him down, hungry and confused.

My orientation skills are rudimentary at best, and were probably not helped by having a geography teacher that wasn't even there about half the time. When he did bother to show up, he spent most of the lesson telling us about where he'd been on some jolly the previous week. I suppose it's a geography lesson of a sort.

Anyway, asking me for directions is like asking Tom Cruise to cure your schizophrenia - only without the absolute certainty that I'm actually helping, or indeed any kind of certainty whatsoever.

This gentleman even had a photocopy of a map with him, with his destination highlighted on it, and it still took me an inordinate amount of time to get my bearings and find any road that I recognised. I really don't know the names of any streets where I live, despite walking down them frequently - when I need to get somewhere I'd much rather someone said, "It's opposite Argos," or "It's near that part of town that stinks of cheese" - although admittedly that wouldn't narrow it down much round here.

I can't quite remember when it was exactly in the middle of the seemingly endless flood of useless information that came out of my mouth, but at one point he asked me if I was cold. I wasn't particularly, so I took that as some kind of coded message that translated roughly as, "OK, I've stopped listening about 15 minutes ago, and I think we should both write this off as a mistake. I'm going to go and find someone else who's likely to be more helpful - you know, like a small child who's just learned to talk, or a violent hallucinating tramp."

Eventually he moved off in the general direction I'd indicated, no doubt his mind bleeding from the sheer multitude of confusing and contradictory information I'd bamboozled him with.

The one and only occasion where I could be fully confident that my guidance was sound was a number of years ago when I was coming home from school. A car pulled up beside me, and, rather than the expected abduction/bumming scenario, the driver asked me where a particular road was. I announced that all he need do was simply to continue on down the road that he was already on.

After he'd thanked me for my time, I strode proudly onward, happy in the knowledge that I'd managed to selflessly aid my fellow man, only to glance behind me and see that he'd actually only driven on about 2 metres, before deciding to ask someone else.

He was either confused by my instruction to, "Keep going down this road," or more likely was reacting to the invisible waves of unreliability that I clearly generate when people get near; a bloke asked me for the time the other day, and upon telling him I half expected him to ask me if I wouldn't mind checking to be sure.

No Country for Cunty Bus Drivers

2008-01-19T11:36:00.000Z

At the eleventh hour I decided not to go and see Aliens Vs. Predator: Requiem.

I think when you're actively dreading going to see a film, it might be a sign that you're not going to have an entirely fulfilling cinema-going experience.

I decided to go and see No Country for Old Men instead, for which I had to travel to a cinema in the next town over, because my local fleapit had seemingly decided that it needed at least 800 of its many screens to show various versions of Aliens, including one 'VIP' screening. I don't quite know what that would entail - presumably they stab your eyes out before the film starts or something.

This is actually a slightly different post than the one I originally intended to write. After changing my mind about which film I was going to see, I thought I'd be describing how, despite the extra travel and expense involved - and the near-Arctic conditions I'd had to battle - I'd made such a brilliant last-minute choice - but I'm not entirely sure I did.

You see, I didn't think No Country was a bad film by any means, but there's something about those critically-lauded, slightly more 'meaningful' films that gets rather lost on me.

I probably should have learnt my lesson after I saw Syriana (another film I had to go on a pilgrimage to see - my local cinema clearly has my fellow city folk down as a bunch of drooling plebs, which, to be absolutely fair, is more or less spot on). Having heard nothing but good things about Clooney's anti-somethingorother polemic, I sat down and watched it, and was emphatically none the wiser two hours later. Again, it certainly wasn't bad, but I sort of wish there'd been more Kung Fu. Or something.

And why do people seem to think that having an ambiguous ending makes a film more dramatic or important? What's wrong with tying up loose ends and having some kind of satisfying payoff after investing two hours of your life watching something?

Anyway, the point is there are certain films that benefit from being seen on a massive screen with near-deafening surround sound (but must it be so loud, father?), and other films which I could happily wait to appear on TV. And then not bother to watch.

So I think I may go and see AvP:R (as the 'kids' are very much not calling it) at some point, because I've heard it said it's broadly the same quality as the first, which means - faint praise aside - if my love for the Alien was enough to sustain me through the first one, I should be able to manage another 90 minutes.

Interestingly, my slightly dissatisfied mood may have been crystalised by an encounter I had on the way home. Upon boarding the bus from the Hicksville town where the cinema was back to the, uh, slightly larger Hicksville city where I live, I was greeted by a large sigh and no small amount of chastisement from the good driver.

Apparently, his 'beef' was that I'd got on the bus before everyone had got off. In truth, I hadn't actually realized anyone was getting off when I stepped on board, as the (2) people alighting had clearly left it until the last minute to get up out of their seats. Nevertheless, this did not seem to cause any undue problem, but I received a curt telling off anyway.

I shouldn't winge really, I mean, it's not as if I'm a paying customer or even A COMPLETE RUDDY STRANGER or anything.

Whoops Injustice

2008-01-09T16:15:00.000Z

Mark Speight is apparently 'no longer a suspect' in his fiancee's death. Well, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear that, and will no doubt see the funny side of this 'slight misunderstanding' in time to come.

Don't Look at Me

2008-01-05T10:53:00.000Z

I finally got Radiohead's new album yesterday after it was released on CD, as I have something of an aversion of paying actual money for what essentially amounts to some ephemeral bits of data sent down a pipe, and also the pressure of having to choose how much to pay proved too great a dilemma for me.

Unfortunately, this joyous purchasing experience was somewhat marred by being served by possibly the rudest man on planet Earth, who practically failed to acknowledge my existence, never mind look at me.

After swiping the tenner from my hand, his eyeline never once again fell in my general direction, not as he tossed me my change, nor as he pushed the CD into my hand as if to say, 'We're finished here. Now fuck off.'

He was seemingly more interested in talking to his mate about his Xbox 360, which had apparently been cursed with the infamous red ring of death. I can only hope that this otherwise minor annoyance somehow develops into a bigger problem that goes on to ruin his life.

It's not that I haven't experienced the same level of 'service' in music stores before, but it's been a while since I've been given quite as short a 'shrift'.

It's perhaps my own fault; I should know better than to shop in HMV, but all the other cheapo places I used to like appear to have been crushed underfoot by the download revolution, which makes my hard copy purchase of In Rainbows all the more ironic.

Annoyingly, not five minutes later I noticed the same album in Tesco for a quid less, which after the cinema incident ▼, only served to compound my irritation.

On the way home however, I passed a Big Issue woman, and didn't bother buying a copy, which in a way makes me feel like I've broken even - despite the fact that I actually feel quite guilty and will almost certainly at some point end up giving £2 to charity to make up for it.

I Am... Reasonably Entertained

2008-01-05T10:45:00.002Z

Annoyingly, for the sake of 'clever' blog posts titles at least, if I had strong feelings either way with regards to I Am Legend, I could have said something like, 'I Am Underwhelmed', or 'I Am Impressed'.

As it is, that's probably a good thing, as I imagine every talentless hack from here to Harrogate has already used one or the other.

It's strange that a film with such epic themes should leave so little impression, although having said that I wouldn't by any means consider it a waste of my valuable time/money. If I'm saying something similar after I go and see Alien Vs Predator in a couple of weeks, I'll be very much surprised.

SPOILY SPOILSTON ALERT

The Good:

The CGI. In helping to recreate a desolate New York City (at least I assume they didn't really blow up the Brooklyn Bridge), the use of computer technology has perhaps never been better implemented.

As ever, it's the little details that always linger longest in my memory. The movie poster that would seem to imply some sort of Batman/Superman crossover was a particularly nice touch.

The zombie leader. It was an unexpectedly creepy idea to have one of the infected lunatics retain his cognitive function, and indeed prove to be particularly cunning.

The Bad:

The CGI. I don't know who thought it would be acceptable to cut and paste the zombies from one of the Resident Evil games into a film and think anyone would be impressed. All they did was take you out of the film whenever you saw them up close. Rubbish. And what was with their stupid stretchy jaws? It was like something left over from one of the Mummy films.

Before I saw the film, I noticed it was a 15 certificate, and I was also under the impression that it was over 2 hours long. Upon watching it, it's clear neither of these things appears to be accurate. There's nothing in there that wouldn't seem out of place in a 12A (I don't even remember any swearing), and the running time clocks in at just over 90 mins, which seems very short indeed for a film dealing with such big ideas - although apparently the previous adaptation of Richard Matheson's book - The Omega Man starring Charlton Heston - is of similar length.

If that zombie is clever enough to set elaborate traps for Will Smith, why doesn't he wear some clothes so he can walk about in the daytime? And how come when Will stabs himself in the leg and has to drag himself to his car, is he able to stand up as soon as he reaches it? Or how, for that matter, after he's thrown all around his house the next day by King Zomb', is he still able to leg it upstairs afterwards?

And what was all the God-bollocks about at the end? I half expected Will to have a vision of his wife telling him everything was going to be alright.

The Ugly:

I dropped a pound on the floor just before the film started, which I failed to retrieve afterwards, even with the MacGyver-esque use of my iPod as a kind of impromptu torch, and if I can manage to say anything positive at all about the film after such hardship, it must have something going for it.

No News is No News

2008-01-05T10:42:00.001Z

There seems to be a fundamental flaw with the basic concept of 24-hour rolling news stations, a problem never more evident than when a story breaks unexpectedly.

Like most people, I was shocked by the story of CBBC's Mark Speight being arrested on suspicion of murdering his girlfriend when I read about it on Friday morning. Quite frankly, it blew my mind, and my mind remained well and truly blown for the rest of the day as I was frequently reminded about it.

When I got home I happened upon this article in reference to the story. It doesn't really tell you much, but clearly there wasn't much information available at the time. What's most interesting though, is the embedded video at the top of the page. Here it is in case it disappears at some point:

What's striking is that correspondent Martin Brunt appears to actually know very little; indeed he seems to repeat the same three facts over and over again, implying that his in-depth research for this story amounted to a quick glance at Ceefax.

Curiously, he seems unsure about the most recent TV work of the people involved, something a cursory Google search would have confirmed for him.

At the end of the clip, when they all but claim to know bugger all, you kind of wish they would just say so instead of ploughing on with the relentless padding, rather than appear to lose face by admitting they've found no further new information.

In fact, as I write this, there's actually a suggestion that he had nothing to do with her death at all, but the best you can say is that no-one really knows anything either way.

What is true to say is that whatever the outcome, having his face appear on TV every 10 minutes with the word 'murder' associated with it isn't going to do him any favours.

Bumper New Year Blogfest

2008-01-05T07:21:00.002Z

Wong!

Well, a new year comes and sits itself down on our sofa and refuses to move, in turn crushing 2007 beneath its buttocks.

What? Anyway, 2008 appears to have brought with it an embarrassment of stuff for me to prattle on about ineffectually, so wrap your retinas around this ▲, you wretched child.

This Explains a Lot

2007-12-31T09:41:00.001Z

I feel slightly guilty for pointing this out, but this rather amuses me. It's from BBC Radio 4's You and Yours website:

Tonsillectomy Scars

2007-12-31T08:25:00.000Z

I haven't posted anything in a while since my searing exposé of Super Mario Galaxy set the internet on fire, so here for no particular reason is a short anecdote from my rather dull life.

When I was a kid, I had to get my tonsils out, so that invovled going into hospital for a bit. It turned out to be a bit longer than expected, because presumably vomiting up a load of blood and ending up attached to a drip isn't standard procedure after a tonsillectomy.

Anyway, I don't know if it was because it was close to Christmas and the nurses felt sorry for us kids, but it seemed like we were always having parties and being taken on trips around the hospital and stuff.

One particular excursion involved a visit to the hospital radio 'station', even though I don't think any of us actually listened to it. Shortly after arriving, after greeting the foul denizens that lurked within, and without any warning, I was asked what song I would like to be played by the DJ.

Being about 7 and not really knowing the names of any bands, I struggled desperately to think of something - anything - vaguely half-decent to suggest. The more tried to think, the more rubbish came to mind. Eventually - after what was probably only about ten seconds to be honest, but feeling like I was under some kind of deadly time limit - I blurted out, 'FIVE STAR!'.

Now, if you're not familiar with Five Star and their oeuvre, it may help you to know that it's possible that at some point somebody may have referred to them as 'The British Jackson Five', and yes, that is actually as shit as it sounds.

Being 7-years-old did not however assuage my embarrassment as the DJ announced my name on air and dedicated The Slightest Touch to me. They could have at least played System Addict. What's worse is that the kid who came after me chose The Final Countdown, which, despite being a slice of pure Eurocheese, was a song that I actually quite liked at the time.

To be fair, the only way the situation could have been improved for me was if the guy after had chosen something even worse, which possibly could only have been Agadoo or The Birdie Song.

And the moral of this story? Trust no-one my friend, particularly if they ask you to choose some music when you're wearing your pyjamas.

Super Mario Fallacy

2007-12-06T20:54:00.000Z

Recently, I've been playing The Official Best Game Ever™, Super Mario Galaxy.

I know it's the best game ever, because people in magazines keep telling me so. And they never lie!

There's certainly been no small lack of expectation for this game, which is not unreasonable, given that most of Mario's previous platforming exploits have also variously been hailed as the best game ever made at the time.

After the - apparent - disappointment of Super Mario Sunshine (even though I enjoyed it), there was perhaps a slight note of cautious optimism as to whether this newest outing would be a true return to form. Well, numerous 10/10 ratings and perfect scores pretty much across the board would suggest that is indeed the case.

In pure gameplay terms, Galaxy is difficult to fault; visually stunning, a ridiculous number of big, varied levels, and a good, if not infallible, camera, which considering the kind of gravitational and spacial gymnastics it has to cope with, is nothing short of a miracle that it works at all.

Here's the thing...

... it's just too damn easy.

I was certainly surprised to be watching the end credits on my second day of playing, but I had been hammering it pretty hard since I got it the previous morning. However, that's been the general pattern with me and new games for as long as I can remember, and this still may be the fastest I've completed a big, proper videogame. I hadn't found everything though, merely half the game had to offer in fact, and I knew that collecting the rest of the stars would be the real challenge.

When I eventually picked up the final star a couple of days later, that's when the alarm bells really went off.

I would never really consider myself some kind of demon games player, although I am certainly well-versed in the ways of Mario, but even so I remember battling on for weeks at least when trying to find everything Mario 64 and Sunshine had to offer. Apart from the odd tricky section, usually involving some sort of race or the collection of purple coins, I snagged most of Galaxy's stars on my first couple of tries.

I was half convinced there must be something else to do after finding every star, but aside from the opportunity to play through the whole game again as a different character (oh, cheers), that seems to be it.

I'm not saying it isn't a great game, and I'm not saying I didn't enjoy myself hugely while playing it, but can a game so relatively challenge-free be truly considered the best ever?

Supported by The Raging Squits

2007-11-12T13:18:00.000Z

With every passing day I may grow older, but it's looking increasingly unlikely that I'll ever really grow up:

Click

They must know, right?

Videogame Awards Show Update - Still Shit

2007-11-05T01:17:00.000Z

I was going to write a bit about the British Academy Video Games Awards 2007 that were on E4 last night, but it would be much easier just to point you towards this post that I wrote about last year's ceremony, and simply invite you to change some of the names.

Dude Sounds Like a Lady

2007-10-18T12:30:00.001Z

Well, it's confirmed - I officially sound like a woman. On the telephone anyway.

After what must surely be the 500th complete stranger I've spoken to on the phone who has continually referred to me as 'Mrs.' throughout the duration of the call, I feel I must reluctantly admit that my manly tones are perhaps not best served by Mr. Bell's wonderful invention. After all, there's only so many times I can put it down to a bad connection, or the fact that the person at the other end of the line is a feckless dullard.

This is not a problem I've ever had to broach in a face-to-face situation however, presumably because being confronted by my overtly masculine frame would nullify any doubts anybody may have about my true gender. Either that, or they're so bemused by the spectacle of a lady's voice coming from the shambling wreck of a man stood before them, that they dare not raise the issue, lest I bring some unholy curse upon them.

Whenever I've tried to explain this away to myself, I sometimes wondered if perhaps some people just had a funny way of saying 'Mr.' or something, which, in combination with a useless telephone, might just sound like they were saying 'Mrs.' Which works fine as a bit of ad hoc self-esteem boosting, but rather falls apart on the occasions I've had to give my (real) name over the phone, and they automatically assume it's the feminine equivalent. Particularly troubling when I'd already been speaking to them for some time before that point.

I wouldn't care, but if people aren't used to speaking to someone who hasn't wrecked their voice smoking 8 billion fags a day, or drowned their vocal chords in moonshine since the day they could open their mouth it isn't my fault.

I probably shouldn't be so bothered about it though. Even though I wouldn't exactly think of myself as an eyeliner-wearing metrosexual with my hair crafted into some kind of fin, I'm not really sure how this occasional annoyance impacts my life in any real way.

Apart from the fact that the person I was speaking to is the man who's coming to service our boiler, which means I now have to keep well out of sight for the rest of the afternoon, in order to avoid any number of awkward situations with no good outcome.

The Sketch Show is... Only Sleeping?

2007-10-05T07:25:00.000Z

I wasn't sure what to expect from The Peter Serafinowicz Show (Thursday, 9.30pm BBC2), and having seen the first episode, I'm not entirely sure what to expect next week either.

It's been heavily trailed over the past few weeks, but all I could glean from the fast-cut promos was that it appeared to be some kind of Dead Ringers-esque impressions-based sketch show, which meant my anticipation levels weren't exactly sky-high at the prospect.

Serafinowicz has been around the comedy scene for ages, in fact name almost any half-decent British comedy from the last 10 years or so and he's probably popped up in it somewhere. He's perhaps best known however, for the almost-too-good educational programme spoof Look Around You, which, like this series he also co-wrote with Robert Popper, so there's a good pedigree here at least.

It is slightly worrying though, the way that the BBC keeps referring to him as 'the next big star' or whatever, because not only is such self-assured cockiness on the part of the corporation rather unappealing, it slightly devalues all the stuff he's done before. Not only that, it puts an incredible amount of pressure on this particular show, rather than just putting it out there and letting people find it, which is usually the best route looking at most successful comedies of recent times.

Anyway, the show itself is sort of like Dead Ringers, except not all of the sketches featured caricatures of famous people - and at least some of it was funny.

By implication of course, some of it wasn't, and when sketches fell flat they really did, and when presented with yet another Big Brother spoof, my heart truly sank like a stone.

It was refreshingly pacey though - the sketches came thick and fast, not quite Fast Show levels, but just about the right speed in order to get the joke across, or conversely move on quickly if a sketch didn't work.

I can't say I remember laughing out loud at all, but throughout the show there was an endearing nuttiness underlying much of it, namely the robotic talk show host Michael-6 and the Michael Caine acting masterclass.

I'll probably keep watching, if only because it's quite nice to see a programme where I suspect the star is genuinely enjoying himself making it.

Actually, it was almost worth it just for the scarily accurate impression of Alan Alda.

Never Mind the Unpleasantness

2007-09-30T17:47:00.000Z

For no particular reason I watched an old episode of Never Mind the Buzzcocks today. It was the - apparently - 'infamous' edition featuring Chris Moyles, whereby he was subjected to a 'right kicking' from Mark Lamarr et al.

Except, he wasn't. In fact having just seen it, it turns out it seems I already saw it at the time, and found it so uneventful that it barely registered. In fact, if anyone was targeted in the programme, it was fellow guest Vic Reeves, who was repeatedly - and rather unfunnily - subjected to a sample of music from a band he used to be in.

All it did really was remind me why I stopped watching the programme altogether, namely because it just wasn't very funny. Indeed, I started to find the rather aggressive, bullying style of the regulars, and in particular Lamarr, rather unpleasant.

Why bother trying to be witty when you can target a vulnerable guest and repeatedly insult them until they're on the brink of tears? That'll teach them for coming on some poxy quiz to earn some money and have a bit of fun.

Seeing Sean Hughes recently on a edition of Animal Rescue Live looking like a tramp who'd inadvertently wandered onto the set almost makes me believe there may be such a thing as karma.

Anyway, you can see the episode in question (on chrismoyles.net, curiously enough) here. Scroll down a bit, it's in there somewhere.

It made me think about how things get spun one way or another, in this case if you'd only heard the hype and never seen the episode you'd think that Moyles had been ritually crucified while his close friends and family were made to watch. I'm not saying he looked particularly comfortable - he never really does on TV - but I've certainly seen people come off much worse on the show. If you were one of Moyles' many detractors though, you'd probably be keen to make much of it.

Rather like the Janet Jackson 'Nipplegate' incident, whereby a small group of fanatics would have you believe that the only way to rectify such a heinous offence is to fine a TV company to the point of bankruptcy, and in turn impose ever more ludicrous puritanical regulations (saying 'bum' on network television is punishable by a day in the stocks now), while the rest of the world sits scratching its head wondering what all the fuss is about.

Prince Charles Seen with Fly Undone - Crisis Report

2007-09-29T15:28:00.000Z

I realize complaining about news and the quality of the media in general is next to pointless, but occasionally it still manages to stun me with the depths of banality they're prepared to plumb.

Check out this recent story I noticed about how some member of the Royal Family has left a button of her coat undone.

You know how people sometimes wonder if they're the only real person in a world of robots? Well I have a similar thought sometimes, only I'm more or less convinced I've somehow been dropped into a parallel universe populated almost exclusively by total cretins, and the whole thing's building up to me eventually having some kind of cage fight with Stephen Fry.

Another Knob Gets TV Gig

2007-09-26T11:41:00.000Z

Out of all the spam I've received recently, this is arguably the most disturbing:

Hi there

You will see your penis on MTV

I think it's the way it says, "You will see your penis on MTV," like I have no choice in the matter.

Return of the Mac (Advert Bashing)

2007-08-26T05:50:00.000Z

Just found these vids of my favourite comedy double act, Lee & Herring, back together again after some years apart: It's a one-off for some charity do earlier in the year, and it's only 20 minutes long, but it's a great reminder how good they were together; the painfully accurate targeting of their bile, the ludicrously layered in-jokes etc. I hope they do more.

I was struck though, by yet another kicking for fellow comedians Mitchell & Webb, and more specifically those online Mac adverts they did. I only saw a couple of the ads at the time, and while not being particularly impressed, they certainly didn't negatively impact my life in any real way.

Given that most of the criticism that I've noticed of Mitchell & Webb for doing that campaign does seem to have come - it has to be said - from other comedians (and Internerds, obviously), it's difficult not to wonder if any of the snidey-ness might simply be based on pure jealously. In fairness, Lee & Herring's own diatribe is ultimately subverted by Rich wingeing that it should have been them doing the ads instead, but there does seem a genuine underlying disdain for the other duo being, as they put it, 'sell outs'.

What exactly does that mean though? How are they sell-outs? Maybe if they'd built a Bill Hicks-esque career on the back of likening advertising executives to the spawn of Satan, or if for some reason they'd previously waged a public campaign against electrical retailers I could understand it, but as it is I don't really know what the big deal is. And they're only selling computers anyway - it's not as if they're flogging a new brand of asbestos nappies or something. As it stands, any criticism from 'fellow' comics only sounds like the sourest of grapes.

David Mitchell and Robert Webb are excellent comedians, and in many ways natural successors to Lee & Herring - intelligent, subversive, with a keen eye for the absurd. All of which may actually account for some of the needling - you know, threat assessment and all that.

I'm reminded of the time a few years ago when I was flicking around the TV one morning and I noticed Lorraine Kelly on GMTV sat on front of a table filled with 'hilarious' novelty items, such as that Big Mouth Billy Bass singing fish thing, and sitting round the other side on the sofa was none other than Richard Herring. I switched over too late, so I missed the feature, but it was clear they were doing some kind of Christmas novelty toy round up thing.

I don't know about selling out, but if you ask me, I know what I find more disappointing.

The Fury of Richard Madeley

2007-08-17T18:04:00.000Z

Whoah - two blog posts in one day! It's like I'm the new Scaryduck or something! Except... you know... shit.

Anyway the reason for this unprecedented outpouring of unread illiteracy is one of my favourite people in all the world: the Senator of Sad himself, Mr Richard Madeley.

Following a corker of a gaffe the other day (I couldn't find a clip sadly, but it involved a discussion about Princess Diana's memorial service and an analogy about speeding into a brick wall - priceless), today Madeley turned his not inconsiderable rage against a young protester who had come on the programme to talk about some demonstration or other he and his group were planning at an airport over the weekend.

Now, if there's anything that'll raise the heckles of ever-youthful yet curiously-hued Mr Madeley it's:

Polit-it-caaaarl cowectness gorn maaaaad
The staff in the control room not putting a picture up quick enough

Airports.

Namely, having to hang around in them, something Richard would seem to do fairly often having - it would appear - about 17 holidays a year.

The protest is apparently over the proposed expansion of Heathrow, and this lad and some other woman from the Green Party came in for an almost Paxman-esque interrogation from Madeley and his hired tabloid hand (in this case that bloke with the greasy hair from the Mirror), and yet all the while I kept thinking about that time they had Tony Blair on, and from what I recall the interview went something like this:

MADELEY: "So that Iraq war then. What's all that about?"

BLAIR: "Well, you know..."

MADELEY: "Oh, never mind that. Do you want to play You Say We Pay?"

The Bourne Tedium

2007-08-17T16:40:00.000Z

I was in two minds whether to write this post. Having just seen The Bourne Ultimatum, I thought I'd tell anyone who cares (i.e. no-one) what I thought of it. The problem is, it usually takes me a while to work out what I actually think about a film having just seen it.

The reason I write this so soon after is probably related to the palpable feeling of disappointment currently swimming in my gut.

Having enjoyed the first Bourne film, and when the sequel turned out to be even better if anything, I was hugely excited by the prospect of a third entry in the series. Something you should understand too, is that I hardly ever go to the cinema, mainly due to the reality of most films being total dross, and also because even the better ones are rarely worth the £8,000,000 a ticket or whatever they cost now. So it takes something rather special to shake me out of my semi-agoraphobic stupor and drag me to a cinema complex.

But Bourne was definitely a franchise I'd grudgingly put some trousers on for.

Here's the thing; I was kind of... bored. Maybe that's too harsh a way of putting it, but whichever way you say it, that's not a great endorsement for an action movie. It wasn't bad by any means, it just felt like a re-run of the previous films - he still doesn't remember who he was, there's yet another shady CIA ponce after him (with a safe full of evidence that could completely destroy him - doh!), a couple more mute assassins, etc.

Even the obligatory car chase made me wonder if they'd accidentally slipped in a reel from the previous film.

It's worth pointing out that when I first saw GoldenEye at the cinema, I was less than thrilled, mainly due to the fact that virtually EVERY ruddy scene (bar the very end) had been shown endlessly in trailers and clips. But over time (and perhaps helped by the excellent N64 game) it's become one of my favourite Bond films.

I can't say it was the same situation this time though - I deliberately avoided looking at too many trailers or reading lots of reviews - but it's entirely possible I'll revise my opinion upwards as various good bits come back to me in the following weeks.

Interestingly, one of the last films I saw at the cinema was Casino Royale (it would have been the last one, but I saw Die Hard 4.0 the other week, which elicited a more understandable feeling of disappointment), which I enjoyed a lot more, and more immediately, which makes Matt Damon and Paul Greengrass's rather disparaging comments about the Bond franchise even harder to take.

And as for Bourne being more 'realistic', there's just as much techno-bollocks in those films than in Bond.

To be honest though, I think the film may have lost me quite early on at the bit where the (unarmed) British police race to the scene of a shooting at Waterloo station... blowing whistles. I think it's fair to say the security situation in the UK has moved on somewhat since, y'know, the Victorian Age.

Iggy Pop's Tribute to Bernard Manning

2007-06-29T00:16:00.000Z

When some people say racist stuff on television they have effigies of themselves burned in public in foreign countries, and are banished from the public eye, lest they be ritually egged at Tesco's.

When Iggy Pop - apparently - does it, the TV presenters don't even bother apologizing.

So there I was watching the BBC's Glastonbury coverage on Saturday night, when none other than the sweating lunatic himself pops up on BBC2 to have a chat with Mark 'Please go back to doing stuff with Marc Riley' Radcliffe, and Jo 'I can't believe she's 42 on Wednesday, but I still definitely would' Whiley.

The interview kicked off with the almost ritualistic chat about wellies, like they continually find it astonishing that celebrities don't turn up in their finest diamond-encrusted suede brogues when they're invited to play what is effectively a mud pit with a couple of speakers.

Anyway, after this opening gambit Radcliffe decided to question Mr. Pop about the see-through pants he wore when he appeared on The White Room years ago, to which he said this:

Initially I was stunned, but given the presenters' rather nonchalant attitude I just assumed I'd misheard, or thought possibly that the word had another meaning in North America that I wasn't aware of, which is indeed true:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liquor_store

However, the fact that the BBC has apologized for this incident would seem to shoot down that theory.

Thing is though, without wishing to play down the seriousness of the term, I'm pretty sure it isn't commonly used in the States, and I'm actually prepared to believe Iggy didn't really have any concept about what he was saying, much like when George W. Bush used the word in front of the cameras a few years ago. But then, he does have the excuse of being unable to eat a pretzel without nearly killing himself, so at the time it was written off as an understandable error.

Although given the controversy caused by Bush's gaffe you'd think it would have gone straight into everyone's 'words not to use in polite company' file.

I think the best thing Iggy could do would be to get some new friends to hang around with when he's in London, although he really didn't help himself later on when he wrote off Gogol Bordello as a bunch of 'gypsies with women's clothing.'

What really strikes me about all of this, deliberate racism or not, is the relative lack of hoo-hah about it all. The only reason I'm writing this now nearly a week after the event is because I'd rather assumed every blogster and his dog would have shoved their two penneth about this in our faces by now.

This may initially be down to the fact that it all occurred at god-knows-when-o'clock in the morning, when all but the most hardcore/drunk were the only ones watching (the BBC received three complaints about their Glastonbury coverage, but were unable to say if they were even actually related to that particular incident), but I would have thought it would have filtered through by now and got more people talking.

Looking around the Internet, there's a few cursory mentions here and there, but they mostly entail no more than 'Iggy Pop said a word, the BBC apologize (later)'.

Curiously, I did find this Guardian article which contains the following paragraph:

"At the time of the broadcast, both Whiley and Radcliffe made it clear to viewers that the use of the phrase was not acceptable."

Which contradicts every other report I've read about this, not to mention the actual flipping footage up there. Unless embarrassed, jokey exchanges count as a damning indictment these days.

Don't get me wrong, I love Mark Radcliffe and Jo Whiley (both for very different reasons), but they really should have said something, instead of deciding to shamble on and pretend nothing happened. What if he'd used the N-word instead? Is that really any worse?

My real gripe here is the varying treatment of this issue in the media; the girl who recently got kicked off Big Brother (one of the rare occasions I'm prepared to mention that wretched programme here) for using the N-word, seemed, much like Iggy, entirely oblivious to the impact of saying it, and yet was pilloried nonetheless. I think she's even received death threats, but then there is the average intelligence of a Big Brother viewer to take into account.

I think what I'm saying here is that there seems to be a perception that some unacceptable words are less unacceptable than others, when there doesn't really seem to be any good reason for that.

Is it too much to ask for a bit of consistency?

Olympic Pains

2007-06-07T22:51:00.000Z

I can't say I give much of a flying shit about the new London Olympics Logo, but to be fair I don't give much of a shit about the London Olympics at all.

Looking back at motifs used for previous Olympic Games, it's certainly no worse than most of them, particularly the one that looks vaguely like a cartoon phallus.

I already can't wait for it to be over, and it's five years before the damn thing even starts.

For me, the Olympic Games only means one event: chase your favourite programmes around the schedules. Although, it'll probably be on the BBC, right? It occurs to me that I hardly watch anything on BBC1 or 2 anyway, and with more high-tech recording devices (and other methods) we're already increasingly in a situation these days where we can choose our own viewing entertainment, whenever we want it.

I wonder how many people watch the Olympics just because it's there. I'd laugh my head off in 2012 if it turns out the 100 metres actually got 3 viewers because everyone else was off watching a cat be sick on YouTube.

The Altruism Post

2007-06-04T01:00:00.000Z

Because I haven't updated this blog for ages (not that I ever have anything interesting to say anyway) I thought I might as well put it to some use and plug the repeat showing of Messrs Biffo and Hairs' Biffovision, or 'Digitiser without all that games shit'.

It's on at the slightly more sociable hour of midnight tonight on BBC THREE, so you've no excuse this time. Unless you have, obviously.

Also, M. Biffo has released a book of transcripts of online conversations he has had with randy gentleman while posing as a young lady. If that sounds like something that is right up your 'alley', then find out more about Confessions of a Chatroom Freak here or read his own, equally sordid blog for details about any of this here.

Who says I never do anything for anybody else? Apart from that guy I found shot in the street, but he would have died eventually anyway, and I was going to miss Hollyoaks.

Ruddy Hell! It's Harry and Paul

2007-04-13T21:46:00.000Z

Oof.

St. Wanker's Day

2007-04-01T08:52:00.000Z

I cannot convey to you quite how much I hate April Fools' Day.

It would seem to be one tradition the Western world could easily leave behind without fear of an outcry, but for some reason it persists, like some recurring cold sore on the face of Spring. Indeed, given the almost certain appearance of 'hilarious lies' in every newspaper on this particular day, you'd think it was actually mandatory.

April fools seem to fall into two broad categories:

The first kind are so stupid and obvious, you wonder why anyone bothered, like the left-handed Mars Bars, or the one the Daily Mail seems to do every year which involves a member of the Royal Family doing something unexpected: Look the Queen's coming out of a bookies! Ha ha ha! But that would never happen!
The second kind are the big problem here. They have just enough truth to them to make you say, "Oh really?" when you're presented with them, which is all the excuse the prankster in question needs in order to claim, "Ha! I got you man! I really fooled you up!!!" like they now own your soul or something.

I think the problem I have with April fools is the problem I have with the wider world of practical jokes; they're only really funny if they're happening to somebody else.

Think about what's happening with a practical joke; you're laughing at someone else's humiliation - that's not very nice really, is it? I suppose if you have the kind of relationship with a group of friends where pranks are reciprocated regularly - like those WKD adverts - then it's fair enough, but personally I'd tend to give people like that a wide berth anyway.

There seems to be a bit of trend at the moment for TV based around the humiliation of others, at the vanguard of which is arguably Channel 4's Balls of Steel. It takes the Trigger Happy TV format and cranks up the unpleasantness to an unbearable degree. I cannot actually even bring myself to watch the programme, mainly because it feels like there's a deeply cynical, world-hating, nihilistic attitude right at its core. Maybe I'm just too sensitive, but I actually find it genuinely depressing.

Not that hidden camera stuff is new. Anyone who used to watch bearded prankster Jeremy Beadle's output during the eighties will be familiar with the sight of someone sitting slightly uncomfortably on a sofa with a rather stretched smile being forced to relive the worst day of their lives, when they were led to believe their beloved antique teacup collection had been condemned by the council, or something.

I think people who regularly try and wind people up genuinely have some issues, and very often if they have the tables turned on them, they tend to react rather badly. Apparently Beadle himself was caught out by a TV show a few years ago, but he refused to let them show it. Noel Edmonds too, the terror of C-list celebs everywhere with his 'Gotcha' oscars, publicly whinged after Chris Morris got him to decry the new designer drug 'cake'.

I probably wouldn't have such a problem with the whole thing if they actually targeted people who genuinely deserved it, instead of random passers-by or the most vulnerable colleague in the office or whatever. If someone spread dog mess on George W. Bush's chair, or locked Richard Littlejohn in his car with a load of wasps I'd laugh as hard as anyone.

UK Audiences Denied the Haunting Music of Diddy and Snoop

2007-03-28T08:41:00.000Z

Sean 'Puff Piddly Poo-Pob' Combs has spoken of his 'disappointment' at having to cancel his UK concerts with 'Snoop' 'Dogg' after the latter's run in with the British Foreign Office over his visa application.

The ruddy fascists won't let him in to the country, just because he's a convicted criminal! Don't they know this man is a millionaire?

Puffston claims it's not about the money lost though, it's about 'letting the fans down'. And the money, obviously.

Curiously, Piff Paff went on to say this: "This tour was meant to be about spreading the peace. And with all the gun crime on in England right now I think it would have been appropriate to do the show," which would be rather like Jim Davidson attempting to set up a marriage guidance practice.

Unless by 'appropriate' he meant that for once the audience would likely be as tooled up as the performers on stage.

The Following Broadcast May Contain Skanks

2007-03-22T19:39:00.000Z

For fans of the late lamented Digitiser, you may be interested to know that the 'funsters' behind that legendary 'electric wordbag' have only gone and made a sodding television programme! On an actual channel! (Well, BBC THREE anyway).

Mr. Biffo and his potentially imaginary colleague, Mr. Hairs, have written a sketch show, and have somehow inveigled their way onto the national airwaves, perhaps by the use of lewd acts.

So, if you're willing to brave the prospect of accidentally recording a programme about disciplining horrible children, or fat people who only eat sellotape, then set your Space Recorder 5000 for the morning of Monday 26th March at 3.15am (till 3.45am presumably), and you won't* be disappointed.

Point your filthy arrow at this for more details: http://biffovision.blogspot.com/

*might not

Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

2007-03-14T18:25:00.000Z

I finally have a Wii, but upon closer inspection of the remote, it would seem somebody is definitely taking the piss:

Dying for a Wii

2007-03-04T07:36:00.000Z

See that up there? That's a piss joke, that is.

The reason for such highbrow humour is that it's now 3 months since launch (5 since I ordered it) and I still haven't received my new Nintendo console.

I've got one on order with an online retailer, the first time I've ever done so with a new console, because I thought it would mean I'd be guaranteed one at launch, but a mealy-mouthed e-mail a few weeks before launch put paid to that. I think I would have probably been better off negotiating The Dance of the Idiot and pre-ordering at a high street games shop, but in fairness it probably wasn't their fault, as it seems everybody was over promised/under delivered units.

Another reason for my 'electro-purchase' was the slightly lower price and the fact that it would be delivered right to my door, but at this point I'd gladly hike to Antarctica in the nude if it meant I could pick one up straight away.

Twilight Princess turned up though, but at this point the only pleasure I can take from it involves rubbing the case against my body in a slightly unseemly way.

From the Country that Brought You The Day Today...

2007-01-25T03:10:00.000Z

Am I old?

This may seem like a strange thing to say given that I've no intention of actually telling you my age. You know, just in case 'The Man' tries to use it against me somehow, perhaps by stopping me passing myself off as a schoolboy in order to get a cheaper travel card.

Anyway, the reason I ask is because a couple of months ago I wrote about a new programme that I said may be one of the worst attempts at comedy I'd ever seen. Well, some time has passed and I think it's important to review attitudes and opinions every now and again, particularly with the benefit of a bit of time to distance yourself from a potentially knee-jerk reaction, so a truer view of a situation can be assessed.

As such, I think I owe the producers of Channel 4's Blunder a huge apology, particularly as I've just seen ITV2's Funny Cuts.

Don't get me wrong, Blunder was still rubbish, but the spectacle of dreadfulness I've just witnessed makes me think they've just built a new extension to the complaints department at ITV and they want to test the phones.

But back to my original question: Is there out there somewhere a 16-year-old who's just ruined their trousers in fit of hilarity, having just seen two piles of Jenga blocks made up to look like the Twin Towers having paper aeroplanes thrown at them?

Or perhaps in some student digs somewhere, a young man has injured himself from laughing so hard at the man in the park's never-ending story of the time he met his girlfriend's parents and ultimately ended up sodomizing her father?

Am I just missing something here, or is being tastless and unfunny, all like, really ironic and stuff?

Essentially a rag-bag of stand-ups doing various characters and bits from their routines (including some award winners apparently - they should think about quietly returning them), and strangely intercut with Eddie Izzard talking about comedy, for no apparent reason, I never thought I'd be pining for the days of the BBC's Stand Up Show.

This blog was never meant to play host to a series of diatribes on British comedy going down the toilet, but there seems to be such a lack of quality control on programming at the moment (not just comedy, by any means), you've got to think that the field must be wide open for the next big thing to arrive.

Hopefully before Des O'Connor starts doing terrorism jokes on Countdown.

Bunch of Cunts Demand Right to be Evil

2007-01-09T06:11:00.000Z

I haven't posted for a while, but when I saw this I felt compelled to mention it.

For those of you who can't be bothered to click the link, or have some kind of aversion to the BBC News website, essentially the story revolves around allegedly religious people protesting the fact that they won't be able to discriminate against gay people any more.

What's the world coming to when you can't hang a placard around a poofter's neck inviting people to throw rotten vegetables at them, eh?

The most amusing part of the article is the bullet-point breakdown listing a number of things that may come to pass should this legislation come into force, including: 'A Christian, Jewish or Muslim IT consultant could be forced to build a website promoting gay rights.'

Yes, that's right - Christians will be forced to build websites for gays.

Don't say the Daily Mail didn't warn you.

The Sketch Show is Dead (Meet it's Killer)

2006-11-24T20:34:00.000Z

I've just watched what may be the single worst programme of the year. Indeed, it's a hot contender for the worst programme I've ever seen.

C4's Blunder (10.00pm Thursday on E4, 10.35pm Friday on Channel 4) could not be more aptly named. Coming on the back of a small torrent of pre-publicity (well, it certainly got more than Dean Learner, whose final episode on Friday has been rather ungraciously shoved back an hour to 11.55pm, to make way for not only the Friday showing of this programme, but also for one of the new vehicles for the inexplicably popular Russell Brand), Blunder comes across like under-rehearsed collection of all the sketches and characters that were considered too shit to include in other shows.

The hit rate for jokes was about as close to zero as you could get without watching a blank screen. Honestly, I've seen episodes of Comedy Lab that were better than this.

One particular disappointment was the involvement of David Mitchell, but it could be argued that given his slight over-exposure recently, it was only a matter of time before he chose a genuine stinker.

Between the fart gags and jokes about gays, you've got to wonder how something like this slips through quality control. After all, it's not as if it features any major stars that might be holding a gun to Channel 4's head in order to get them to screen it, nor could cost of production be much of a factor, given that it looks like it cost about 8p to make the episode I watched.

I don't think there's ever been a sketch show that could be considered consistently funny from start to finish, but it takes a special kind of effort to turn out a show where nothing works.

In a rather unprecedented move, instead of screening it in some graveyard slot over Christmas like you'd imagine they would, Channel 4 have actually decided to 'preview' every episode on E4 the night before showing it on terrestrial telly.

Presumably the reason behind this is to give viewers a head start in wiping it from their memories.

Fun with Scamsters

2006-11-07T07:45:00.000Z

With reference to an earlier post of mine, I just found this.

I only wish I could suppress my overwhelming annoyance enough to actually do something like this when one of these people call.

People are Reading This?

2006-10-21T13:35:00.000Z

A quick special no-thanks to Blogger.com, as I've just realised that there were comments waiting to be moderated from up to three months ago.

I rather stupidly thought that there might be some sort of indication when someone left a comment, like a small icon, or even just a short message on the Blogger Dashboard, but I suppose that would be asking too much.

Still, for the (two) people who left them, your words have now been put in their rightful place as you can see, unless you've decided never to look at this blog again because you became disillusioned with my overly high standards towards user comments or something.

The only reason I decided to have moderated comments in the first place was because I didn't want to get flooded with offers for knob cream and vole insurance (ironically I need both now).

Mainly though, it was to protect my fragile ego. Some kid referred to me as 'that man' the other day, and I briefly considered taking my own life.

Liar Seeks Heir

2006-10-20T05:56:00.000Z

Famous fork-warper Uri Geller is looking for contestants to take part in a reality TV show to find an 'heir' to his legacy.

So, calling all magicians who haven't updated their act since the '70s.

Geller is a strange character, a man who has seemingly made a living playing on the benefit of the doubt that some people seem to give him that he really has mystical powers.

Nobody goes and sees David Copperfield and thinks, "Holy shit! That guy can really fly!", because he doesn't claim to be anything other than an illusionist (and even if he did, the high tensile wire riding up his arse might be a bit of a clue).

The fact that Geller claims to have supernatural powers and never, ever backs down appears to be enough evidence for some people to believe whatever he says.

In a sense I don't really blame him - he's just exploiting the woolly thinking and ludicrous belief systems people find themselves adopting. In a world where you won't find a single newspaper that doesn't feature horoscopes, entire channels devoted to 'contacting the dead', or, most alarming of all, the increasingly scary rise of religion on different sides of the planet, the only surprise is that more people don't chance their arm with claims of mysticism. The odds seem fairly good that you'd have at least a degree of success.

The thing is, performers like Derren Brown have proved you don't even need to pretend to be something you aren't in order to turn out impressive performances. Brown has never claimed to be anything other than a magician/hypnotist, and yet has fashioned an air of freakiness around him that Geller couldn't hope to emulate, no matter how much cutlery he vandalises.

It's unclear why Geller and his 'gifts' have endured for so long - what kind of 'special power' is the ability to (eventually) snap teaspoons after fannying around for quarter of an hour?

If you look around though, Geller's the least of it. With 'evolution' virtually a swear word in parts of America and sales of dreamcatchers on the increase (probably), we may be soon pining for the days when some nutty Israeli used his impressive psychic powers to guess that David Frost had drawn a picture of a cat.

And the Loser is... Gaming

2006-10-20T02:57:00.000Z

If there are any regular readers of this blog (and I'm confident there aren't), you may recall my first proper post which included a short list of reasons why any new games-related TV programme is virtually guaranteed to be shit.

That post, and also this slightly more recent one bring us bang up to date with The British Academy Video Games Awards 2006, or the Bafta Video Game Awards, as they were slightly less elegantly called in my listings magazine.

Despite the fact that my previously documented misgivings were actually directed more towards a weekly magazine-type show revolving around games and not a one-off awards ceremony, it nevertheless managed to tick most of the boxes anyway (it even managed to include a short feature on pro-gamers, Jesus God).

It smacked of a programme made and presented by people who clearly have no love for games (and who made no secret of it) - why did someone think it would be a good idea to have Dave Berry make 'hilarious' comments when showing clips of each of the nominated games for example? In fact that rather summed up the attitude of the programme-makers, and given that it was hidden away on E4 at 11.00pm, it was fairly clear that they seemed almost embarrassed to have to televise an awards ceremony for videogames.

Which, actually, is fair enough. But if you're going to do it, do it properly or just don't bother.

Apologists would say that the videogame industry is still in its relative infancy, and therefore any exposure in the mainstream is a good thing, but I would say a bad show is a bad show, and if they think this effort did anything to help the general perception of games and gamers I would suggest they are sorely mistaken.

Let's be honest - all awards shows are embarrassing and shit, so the chances of a ceremony celebrating games bucking the trend was unlikely, but it could have easily been made 1,000 times better by just playing it straight(er).

Some particular lowlights include:

An audience full of PR nobodies (Miyamoto will never been seen near an event like this) picking up awards for all their sterling work (threatening games mag editors with pulling their exclusivity deal if they don't praise their game to the hilt).

A potted history of videogames interspersed between awards which was so cursory, it seemed like they'd gotten a runner to spend a hour on Wikipedia researching it.

The fact that, without exception, every 'celeb' dragged on to present an award had absolutely no affinity with videogames whatsoever. They couldn't even really bring themselves to lie about it either.

Vernon Kay.

You may notice I've made no comment about the actual winners here, and that's because most of them didn't even register with me. The truth is they're really only of any interest to the people nominated anyway - I'm certainly no more likely to play Ghost Recon because of its win, nor am I about to cast New Super Mario Bros. into the fires of Hades because it lost in its category ('Best Children's Game' of all things - that's really going to help Nintendo with that kiddie image thing).

If anything proves what an immense waste of time the whole affair was, one of the categories called 'The Gamers' Award' (actually best mobile phone game) was voted for by readers of the Sun's 'Something for the Weekend' (whatever that is), and given that mobile phone games are at best regarded as an insult to proper gaming, you could regard your chance to influence the outcome of that category as an insult to yourself. I don't believe any of BAFTA's other glittering ceremonies include a text vote anyway.

Still, some woman who used to be in some pop band got to perform her new single at the end so it wasn't a complete write-off.

Just Play Some Records, You Twats

2006-10-10T07:38:00.000Z

According to 'a man on the radio' (Nick Gillett from the Guardian), the upcoming Nintendo Wii is for a completely different audience to the X-Box 360, because, 'Microsoft is for gamers'.

Thanks for clearing that up.

It's bad enough when you get this kind of guff in some fanboy forum or the letters page of some tatty partisan games mag, but it's another thing when it's in the mainstream media (alright, 6 Music).

Whatever you think of Nintendo, it would be difficult to make an argument that they didn't have the enjoyment of gamers in mind when they create new products. Almost every genuine innovation in gaming can be traced back to a piece of software or hardware that emerged from their Kyoto HQ; the original NES controller which set the standard for joypads to this day, analogue thumbsticks, wireless controllers, rumble paks, battery back-up, and now the Wii remote.

For the first time in ages I find myself genuinely excited about a new console.

The slightly dispiriting prospect of having to upgrade your machine just to play the same games, but with slightly more realistic eyebrows on characters has been pushed aside by the mouthwatering prospect of a whole new way of playing games.

Given the seemingly endless possibilities this presents, to dismiss Nintendo's new console out of hand like that would appear to be the attitude of someone who either a) is an astounding graphics tart or b) has a grudge against Nintendo, possibly because he once got touched up in a lift by Hiroshi Yamauchi.

I shouldn't get so annoyed though - to date, the mainstream coverage of videogames has mostly consisted of screaming headlines about how Sonic the Hedgehog bummed a child through the TV screen, or how Grand Theft Auto made a kid go and shoot someone's head off because he would never have realised what all those guns that were lying around his house were for otherwise.

Some papers that don't decry games as the handiwork of the Devil (and hilariously some that do) sometimes try cozy up to them, occasionally dedicating half a page of ill-informed, out-of-date copy to them every now and again - my local rag once gave Driv3r 10/10. I wish I'd kept that.

American 'English'

2006-09-26T02:17:00.000Z

Have a glance at this and tell me if you notice anything.

No, not the effortlessly tedious Blair/Brown no-love affair - I'd sooner attempt hack my head off with another man's penis than write about politics. No, I was referring to the rather curious spelling of 'Labour' throughout the article.

Given that the term 'Labour Party' is a proper noun, it shouldn't be subject to being 'Americanized', should it? You'd think someone writing for the New York Times would know that, even if it is just the online edition.

Ordinarily, I could care less, however this is the week that the film World Trade Center (yes, spelt like that) opens in the UK, which rather smacks of having your cake and eating it.

That special relationship, eh? If it's all about give and take, it's fairly clear who's taking it.

Driving in the Slow Lane

2006-09-24T15:08:00.000Z

Here's a bit of rubbish journalism for you.

In a piece about Richard Hammond's crash for The Independent's online edition, David Randall wrote:

"...the made-for-TV stunt, reminiscent of the risks the late Australian wildlife daredevil Steve Irwin used to take..."

Really? I don't ever recall Steve Irwin strapping himself into a car fitted with a rocket engine and trying to break the land speed record.

It's a slightly desperate attempt to link two completely unconnected news stories, a bit like the girl on Question Time the other day who asked if, given the tragic death of Steve Irwin and the injuries sustained by Richard Hammond, reality TV should not be more closely regulated.

A few points:

Steve Irwin and Richard Hammond didn't make reality TV programmes; 'reality TV' is when you trap a hideous bunch of people in a particular situation and try to get them to shag/kill each other.

Steve Irwin was killed in an extremely freak accident - only 17 deaths have been recorded by stingrays in Australia since 1969.

There have always been daredevils and people willing to put themselves in harm's way in order to break records or entertain the public - nobody made them do it.

The rather hysterical, and slightly pious, dissembling of the whole 'irresponsible' Top Gear affair has rather annoyed me - and I don't even like cars. An element of risk is what a lot of programmes are based on - the only good thing about ensuring all shows are Health & Safety-ed to within an inch of their lives is that it would mean an end to Last of the Summer Wine - after all, you wouldn't be able to send a load of old men down the side of a hill in a bath any more.

Gaming-Based Lament #462

2006-09-23T22:37:00.000Z

This post was inspired partly by this entry on The RAM Raider's blog.

I can't remember the last time I read a games magazine. Not properly, anyway.

Aside from skimming through one to take the salient points (overall scores) from the couple of reviews I might be interested in that month, and a quick glance at upcoming releases, I'll rarely be found reading one.

This is what I've always done though, with the exception that, in the past, at some point I would return and read the thing properly.

But not now.

It could be that demands on my time are to blame. Or the fact that the internet has brought an immediacy that mags couldn't hope to match. But I believe the truth is that I just don't enjoy reading them like I used to.

Unlike a lot of people, I do like Edge. I trust their opinions, and their depth of knowledge about the world of games and its history is almost scary, but I don't really want to read a sixteen page article about whether games are art or not.

Some people obviously do, and that's fine, but what are the alternatives? Some shitty 'official' rag, that has its reviews faxed to them by a PR person from the games company? Or perhaps arguably the lowest form of games publishing - the 'lifestyle games mag'.

The very notion of such a thing already has the vomit leaving my stomach looking for an exit, but somehow these publications still exist. There is nothing more painful than opening a magazine and seeing an article, ostensibly about 'social gaming', but which features a double-page picture of a bunch of blokes on a sofa with joypads in hand and bottles of beer dotted about the room.

Because check the fuck out of us, we play games AND drink alcohol.

For me, reading mags was at least 50% of what I enjoyed about games. The truth is, there was nothing wrong with magazines that had a more surreal or humourous take on the world of games. Very often, it was the stuff in the mags that had nothing whatsoever to do with games that I enjoyed the most - the fact that the people writing it also liked games too was more of a bonus.

The days of the Your Sinclair staff pretending the magazine was put together in a garden shed are long gone, and the death throes of that particular kind of witty, knowing games writing could not have been demonstrated more clearly by the short life and undignified death of the last attempt of its kind, Arcade magazine.

Those kind of mags didn't die because they were shit, they were forced out of existence by publishers more keen to appeal to people with writing on their t-shirts, seemingly declaring that the days of gaming as a marginalised, clique-y hobby were gone forever.

But what that really means is that most of the people who used to buy games mags probably don't bother any more, which is certainly true for me, and since Digitiser metamorphosed into a humourless hardcore heaven, it's left a gaping hole in my gaming life, one which could be filled easily by producing just one quality games publication that didn't feature interviews with club DJs.

The Tit Awards

2006-09-16T06:54:00.000Z

Here's something I've just noticed:

"Justin Lee Collins to present the Golden Joystick Awards 2006."

If you needed another reason to not pay any attention whatsoever to this ceremony, then they have provided it and then some.

Given that it usually warrants about half a column in most game mags, I don't know anyone who really cares about these awards, aside perhaps from the grey PR execs who populate the audience, whom you would only recognise if you happened to catch that episode of Click Online they appeared on making ludicrous claims about their company's new console or something.

Or the ex-Big Brother contestants and tabloid scandal-causers who get another 3 valuable seconds of airtime while presenting a award.

If awards ceremonies per se are largely unbearable viewing, then sitting through a show fêting computer and video games is probably something akin to being strapped to a chair while someone inserts a red hot needle into your bollocks at regular intervals.

I don't know if Mr. Lee Collins knows anything about gaming, but I suspect that's a moot point anyway - his job is probably just to read an autocue in the unbelievably loud and exaggerated way that's made him a star.

Fishy Fuckwits

2006-09-13T05:14:00.000Z

What's the definition of an idiot? You'd be hard pushed to better this.

It seems people having been killing stingrays in Australia, apparently as some kind of revenge attack for the death of Steve Irwin. Yeah, that'll teach 'em - those shovel-shaped bastards have been getting away with it for too long.

Honestly, you've got to wonder sometimes how the human race ever managed to drag itself out of the caves to begin with, never mind build some kind of 'civilisation'.

If it isn't waging war on fish, they're falling over themselves to put the boot in to a man before his corpse is even cold (just check out the Wikipedia history page for the article about stingrays - they couldn't crowbar poorly spelled 'jokes' into the article quick enough).

Still, you don't know the full story - perhaps those stingrays were hanging around a Tube station looking a bit shifty, and you never know what they could be hiding under their gills...

How to Kick a Man When He's Dead

2006-09-04T18:17:00.000Z

There used to be an unwritten equation when attempting to make light of a shocking or upsetting event. It went something like this:

Tragedy + Time = Comedy

That middle part was generally key - try and jump in with a light-hearted take on the situation too soon and you could risk looking like an insensitive prick.

Over the years, the gap between something tragic happening and the first wave of jokes about it has become shorter and shorter, to the point where it's entirely feasible that someone could've easily written a terrorist-based sitcom between the first and second planes hitting the World Trade Center.

If you throw the Internet into the mix, the equation would now look more like this:

Tragedy = How Fast You Can Post to B3ta

I haven't bothered trying to search out all the examples of "humour" extracted from the sad death of Steve Irwin, but I know they're out there already - it's as certain as Vernon Kay is a twat.

I don't know why people feel the need to try and outdo each other in their crassitude. Are all these weak puns and hastily knocked together Photoshop gags just individuals trying to show a bit of edge by being first to the punch? Or are people actually showing their true natures?

If it's the former, then hiding behind the anonymity of a stupid made-up name and an untraceable e-mail account is hardly anything to boast about.

But if it's the latter, that's far more unsettling. There's a seamy side to the Internet, and I'm not just talking about the various hate groups or the more sordid end of the self-love market. With the unprecedented freedom the Web has brought us, there's apparently less reason than ever for some people to employ a bit of sensitivity, and I fear that for some, the marks they leave online are probably closest to their true feelings.

Arch Twat

2006-08-31T02:33:00.000Z

I see Jeffrey Archer's on the telly flogging women's magazines.

Seriously, how big a cunt do you have to be before people refuse to touch you with a shitty bargepole?

Perhaps given the cadre of cocksuckers who currently run the world, the question is moot.

But Archer is interesting - here's a man who seemingly hasn't done an honourable thing in his entire life. Indeed, it would appear that the man has been lying and cheating his way through life from his moment of birth.

I could easily believe that his first words were, "See this 'Spot the Dog' book? I wrote that."

Even a spell in prison wasn't enough to burst his smug bubble. Whereas Jonathan Aitken, who was sentenced for similar offences, seemed to be humbled by his time inside, Archer came out apparently as defiant as ever, not even seeming to accept that he'd actually done anything wrong.

Why is it exactly, that certain people who repeatedly prove themselves unworthy of a job of any kind always seem to land on their feet?

I'm thinking of starting an experiment: I'm going to go around acting like the biggest bastard the world has ever seen, and see if I can become Emperor of Earth before the end of the year.

Fraud Squad

2006-08-29T12:29:00.000Z

Someone's just tried to scam me up.

The phone rang and, because I'm hugely paranoid (I'm always checking in cupboards for Communists), I made sure to look at the display to see the phone number of the caller.

Funny thing though - there was no number to display. Feeling adventurous, I answered anyway, to be greeted by some woman saying something like, "Stand by for a call from... someone." I couldn't really make it out, but it did make it seem rather grand - it'd almost be like receiving a call from the President of the USA - you know, if the President of the USA wasn't a evil cock.

Anyway, a few seconds later, some guy came on the line, said something inaudible, then asked me how I was. "Alright," I said (although to be honest I had just killed a man - I was slightly on edge if anything). He asked me if I used a mobile phone (I don't actually - why give "The Man" the opportunity to track you down and bum you into submission?). Nevertheless he wasted no time in telling me that my number had been selected to receive a free mobile, and made it clear that it would not cost me a thing.

Now here's the thing - I'd have to be Kevin McStupid from Stupidtown, Hants in order to not immediately spot that this guy was on the swindle, and indeed at the first opportunity (after he stopped repeatedly telling me that it would cost me nothing) I told him I wasn't interested.

"Why don't you want a free mobile phone?" he said.

"Because this is a scam," says I.

"But... it's free," he replied.

This sort of went on for a bit, until he asked me one last time why I wasn't interested and I said, "Because this is a scam and you know it is." At which point he bid me good day, cutting his losses and moving down to the next hopefully more vulnerable householder on his list.

I only wish I'd wasted more of his time now. I'll be prepared for next time though - I've got a whole routine worked out whereby I let him believe I'm interested and keep him on the line for as long as possible, before playing in some sound effects in the background of gunfire, before hanging up.

I can't wait.

Sh-ITV

2006-08-26T02:05:00.000Z

The outgoing chief executive of ITV has been having a pop at Channel 4.

In a speech at the Edinburgh TV festival, Charles Allen said that Channel 4 should "grow up" and "face greater scrutiny of its programmes".

Anyone who's watched ITV recently (or in the last 10 years) would immediately recognise that this attack was broadly equivalent to a man dying of self-inflicted gunshot wounds taking the piss out of someone for stubbing their toe.

It's worth emphasising that word in the first sentence up there. He is the outgoing chief executive, and with good reason - his channel is a national disgrace.

Channel 4 isn't perfect, and I'm certainly not about to hold Big Brother up as an example of quality broadcasting. Indeed, such is my hatred for said 'programme', should I meet anyone involved with its production, I may find myself involuntarily injuring them with whatever was nearest to hand.

But when your entire schedule is filled with the kind of tat that even Endemol wouldn't consider making, you really have no position of authority.

When ITV started going down the tubes, I was actually quite dismayed - a channel that's been around for 50 years, the second oldest in Britain, with some great memories of shows from years gone by. But when I thought about it, it occurred to me that should it be put out of its misery now, I really couldn't care less.

There is literally not one programme on ITV1 that I watch, and if the worst that can happen is that the TV skips straight from BBC2 to Channel 4, that's surely a welcome price to pay so that we no longer have to pretend to foreign visitors that the third channel is actually a 24-hour rolling spoof station.

No Sacred Cows, But Could You Not Mention...

2006-08-24T12:25:00.000Z

The BBC have been getting their metaphorical scissors out a bit recently.

Apart from removing some stuff about the Prime Minister from Time Trumpet with Armando Iannucci (10.00pm Thursdays, BBC2), the latest casualty would seem to be the new series of a radio comedy called The Franz Kafka Big Band, which has been removed from the schedules after editors (whoever they may be) thought a number of sketches were 'inappropriate'.

You can read the full story here.

The BBC described the show's subject matter as 'bold', but seemingly failed to match them for courage by bottling it at the last minute and pulling the programme.

The problem they seem to have with it is that a number of sketches play on recent world events, religious beliefs, and others apparently poke fun at groups like the Taliban.

But what I would say is this: if you can't poke fun at terrorists and religious fanatics, who can you ridicule?

As usual in circumstances like this, they've played it completely wrong. By pulling the show like they have, they've drawn more attention to it than it probably ever would have gotten just by broadcasting it, and now it looks like if it ever appears on the schedule, it'll be in a rather limp, watered-down form.

This is a huge shame, because from what I've read about it, it sounds fairly hilarious, which would be something of a novelty, as the BBC's usual radio comedy output is about as funny as a weekend in intensive care.

Cruising for a Losing

2006-08-23T07:09:00.000Z

Tom Cruise has been dropped by Paramount Pictures due to his 'unacceptable recent conduct'.

Which is a polite way of saying, "Tom Cruise is too mental now for even shameless money-grubbing Hollywood executives to put up with."

Which, considering that those same bigwigs would probably cut a 3 picture deal with Osama Bin Laden if they thought he could pull in the key 16-35 demographic, is certainly saying something.

The weird thing is, up until relatively recently, Cruise might have been considered the acceptable face of Scientology. I don't ever remember him talking about it at all actually, and certainly never pegged him for taking up the long overdue campaign against Brooke Shields.

But his behaviour of late his been so odd, I could easily imagine even John Travolta turning all the lights off and hiding in the electricity cupboard whenever he comes round.

Maybe this is just what happens when obscenely wealthy superstars have mid-life crises, and marrying a young actress and impromptu trampolining on chat shows is just their equivalent of buying a Ferrari and getting a spray tan.

Superman Can Bugger Off Again

2006-08-09T14:07:00.000Z

Finally saw Superman Returns the other day. I'm still not entrirely sure what I think of it, but I'm leaning towards massive disappointment.

Anyway, here are some questions it threw up (note - spoilers within):

According to Marlon Brando in that recorded message, it took Superman thousands of years to travel to Earth. So how fast can Superman fly then, if he was expecting to go and find Krypton? Or was he expecting to be out there for aeons?

What did he eat, and what did he breathe in space? If they're going by the standard, 'He gets all his energy from the Sun' mythos (which I've never really liked - why does he have a stomach then?), then that explains the food thing, but he has to breathe, doesn't he? Even if he took some oxygen with him, it wouldn't have lasted him five years.

Five years alone in space? He'd have gone mental surely?

How strong is he then? There have to be some limits on his abilities. And why - if it was such a struggle to stop that plane - is he apparently able to lift an entire island (infused with Kryptonite no less) up into space?

Why did they go with the comedy Lex Luthor approach? Kevin Spacey appears to be on a permanent piss-take throughout the film, an attitude he seemingly carried through the publicity tour they did for it. Lex Luthor was always a more interesting character to me than the infallible Superman, and after Michael Rosenbaum's nuanced, more abiguous turn on Smallville, it was a crushing shame to see the character revert to swaggering tosspot.

And why give Luthor another ditzy sidekick? There are some throwbacks to the earlier films they needn't have bothered with recalling. Indeed, in many ways it felt like a film from the Eighties, and not really the update I was hoping for.

Everyone was thrilled to see Superman again, but no-one seemed to give a stuff that Clark Kent waltzed back into The Daily Planet after five years. And that was one of the main problems with the film for me - not enough Kent. Much the same way I prefer Luthor to Superman, I've always found Superman's alter ego to be the more interesting personality. As Kent, he was probably on screen about 10 minutes altogether, and he almost needn't have been there at all.

You can usually judge a film's impact by which scenes and images instantly come to mind when recalling it a few days later. For me, I tend to think of the plane sequence, but beyond that I find it hard to pinpoint any standout moments. And anyone who's seen any of the trailers and publicity clips for the film will have virtually seen the entire plane bit anyway.

Does Bryan Singer actually have any pedigree as a director? Apart from the X-Men films, which really do nothing for me, the only other thing of note that he's done seems to be The Usual Suspects, which mainly consists of a load of men talking and trying to make each other laugh.

And why do his clothes never burn up on re-entry?

Film Fuck-You-Then

2006-07-23T02:34:00.000Z

This weekend, Channel 4 encouraged viewers to expand their cinematic knowledge (and by proxy promote the fact that FilmFour is coming to Freeview) by informing us of 50 essential films that everyone should see, or as they put it, 50 Films to See Before You Die.

They attempted to do this via the unusual method of showing all the endings and revealing every twist and surprise in them.

Whose brilliant idea was that then? If I had to guess, I would say it was probably Iain Lee. The lanky alleged comedian and full-time TV talking head has built a career out of ruining the enjoyment of films and TV programmes.

Why bother writing jokes when you can just spoil Fight Club for anyone who hasn't seen it?

In any case the whole exercise was academic as far as I'm concerned, as we won't be able to pick up FilmFour anyway.

It joins a handful of channels that someone has decreed should not be available to the likes of me, or at least only once in a blue moon when the planets are aligned and the wind is blowing in the right direction.

I can't say it's bothered me up until this point - most of the output of the channels that are MIA seems to be wall-to-wall music videos and some camp bloke pretending to talk to ghosts.

I suppose I could just stop being such a cheapskate and buy a satellite dish, but why should I? I like getting stuff for free - and anyway, if they didn't want you to take them, why would they put the Milky Ways in the CCTV blind spot in the newsagent's?

Bring Back Lan Jam

2006-07-04T03:15:00.000Z

For virtually the entire existence of gaming, people have bemoaned the lack of decent - or any - games-related programming on British telly. Currently, with Cybernet being axed to make way for ITV's chav extortion scheme, the situation is that there is officially no dedicated programme focussed on videogames on terrestrial television.

If any production company has any ideas about making one to fill this gaping void, don't bother - it'll almost certainly be complete rubbish.

Here's why:

They'll get some message-T-shirt-wearing idiot to present it who used to do some kids' show, whose sum-total experience of playing games is using the fruit machine while waiting for their next Snakebite.

They'll do a feature on 'pro gamers', a topic most ordinary gamers couldn't give a tuppeny-toss about, interviewing a bunch of square-headed American boys called stuff like 'Thrustkill3r', who do nothing but play Quake IV every second of their lives.

They'll try and get celebrities to appear on it, but because they have no budget, and because no celebrities actually play any games, they'll get whoever was leftover after QuizMania have had their pick, and whose connection to the world of gaming is that they once saw someone playing Snake on their mobile.

They'll cram the show full of CGI sequences from games, because that always looks better than gameplay footage, and the production team probably don't know the difference anyway.

On previous form, they'll probably get some kids to do the reviews.

Test This You Mother

2006-07-02T07:52:00.000Z

Christ McBlimey - how user-unfriendly is this blogging rubbish, eh?

I write this merely to test this stupid thing, because for some reason it won't let me see my 'blog' without any posts.

Still, at least it doesn't always look like it's going to fall apart before your eyes, like MySpace.