Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
I’m not prejudiced, but…
The other day I had to endure a very long hour in the compartment of a train with a Jehova’s Witness with rancid fucking b.o. In other words I was subjected to a protracted insult to my morals and intelligence as well as a violent olfactory assault, both of which left a noxious, lingering stench. Didn’t anyone tell the smelly, god-bothering bastard that cleanliness is next to godliness? I can only hope the evil fucker experienced the same sense of exasperation I felt every time he bleated “it’s written in the bible”, when I inevitably responded “so what?”. And when I farted in his face.
It would be an appalling injustice to lump the Mormons in with scum like him, not only because all the Mormons I’ve met (quite a number over the last year) have been very pleasant, if misguided young men, but also because on the strength of the clip below the Osmonds are clearly well overdue for a critical rehabilitation, from toothy Jesus freaks to righteous eco-doomsayers who could fucking ROCK when they wanted to. Nevertheless, having had a certain amount of (sometimes interesting, at other times awkwardly hilarious) contact with this bunch, as well as having been pestered variously by Hare Krishnas and other human garbage, I’m starting to worry that I might be somehow acting as a magnet for religious nutters. What is it about me that screams “my heart is open to the Lord, if only one of his messengers could show me the way”? The only conclusion I can come to is that I’m obviously not fucking rude enough.
I’m not pre-judging, I’m just judging. Using the critical faculties that god gave me. All Jehova’s Witnesses are cunts and should be shot. Don’t worry Donny, my copy of the Watchtower’s already in the recycling bin.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Crazy Horses - The Osmonds
Enough of the 80s already - and by the way, all you girlie Abba fans take note - THIS is where it's at.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
That’s one month of 2009 sweated through then, and to my surprise and relief I haven’t run out of work and been forced to eat dust yet, so an absolute bonus there. In fact in the last week I’ve even bought myself a brand new pair of skis and taken them out to the mountains for a test run, that’s how bourgeois I am. However, smug as my quips might seem, I feel far from complacent.
When I was back in
One horrifying word I’ve heard mentioned a number of times in the last couple of weeks is “eighties”. I know that I’ve eulogised the eighties a number of times here, and indeed have been guilty of a rather cosy nostalgia for my youth, just as long as I know that it’s all safely in the past. But now it’s time for me to eat my flippant words, because I know damn well that any prospect of the eighties returning is a deeply sickening one.
At the same time there was another world, that hateful world of the winners. The Tories, seemingly unbelievably, won three elections and the miners’ strike, and went on to win a fourth election in the 90s. All opposition to the prevailing ideology was busy tearing itself apart and was duly swept aside. The whole decade seemed like one of utter defeat. For depressed, left-wing teenagers the pop charts of the mid-80s offered little comfort, the majority of the hits reflecting the ethos of the time – slickly produced, inflated, saccharine, vacuous. The only rational choice was to become a goth and wallow on the margins in a cocoon of misery.
Having said that I don’t wish to overestimate how much things have improved since the 80s – large parts of
Given the fact, then, that in economic terms sizeable pockets of