Saturday, 30 April 2011

Cut through all the cryptic crap

I have just spent entirely too much time on this website: http://betterbooktitles.com/
I read about it in the Guardian. Basically a comedian and writer has taken some of the worlds greatest pieces of literature and re-named them so that people can find them more easily in bookshops. Here are a couple of my favourite examples. Can you guess the real titles?









It may not be big or particularly clever, but they do make me laugh.
(Redesign and titles by Dan Wilbur)

Monday, 25 April 2011

"He takes men out of time and makes them feel eternity."

Did you all have good Easters? I had a lovely Easter.


I accidentally got a job at one of the best ice-cream shops in the world; definitely the best ice-cream shop in England. It's called Boho Gelato and we make all the ice-cream downstairs and the mojito sorbet will make you believe Jesus is risen. By the end of the summer I'm going to have one giant, muscular scooping arm and one weedy little money taking arm, but i don't really care.


Yesterday i spend the day in the park with some friends drinking alcoholic ginger beer and reading Victorian ghost stories, then had a BBQ at my house, then went to a friend's gig. Brighton in the summer is too lovely, it makes writing dissertations very difficult indeed.


I also got an email from virtual-godmother extraordinaire Cristina Thorson, asking for new music to listen to in the summer months, which prompted me to make a pretty spectacular mix CD for her, which might just be the soundtrack of my summer. Those of you who are facebook regulars have probably noticed the 30 day song challenge thing that's sweeping the Internet. I've resisted thus far, but i thought i could maybe post it up here for the next month, with music videos, in case any of you want some new music to listen to.


So, number 1 on the list is your favourite song. This is nearly impossible to answer. Mine changes every day, but the one I've been listening to pretty consistently for the past few months, and which never fails to bring a smile to my face is Underwear by Pulp. I've already posted a video for that up here, so I'll go for my next favourite, which i have loved for longer, even if i now listen to it slightly less often. Enjoy.



Oh, and the title of this post is a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson, but is it about Jesus, or is it about the fact that the new series of Doctor Who has started? That's for me to know, and you to ponder.

Friday, 22 April 2011

Stop. Look. Listen.



By now you all know of my love for Amanda Palmer. Her music speaks to me in a way few other artists do. I may not listen to her stuff as frequently or as openly as i do other musicians, but if I'm feeling down, or angry, or in any way diminished then she is the one who i know can set me right. On her blog yesterday she wrote a post about a play she saw, and this part I thought was really beautiful.

This is something we do together. This is what theater does, what it’s for. Catharsis.
We’ve been doing it for thousands of years.
We go to the darkest places to feel things to the marrow, and think about them in a space made for thinking, feel in a space made for feeling.
Where it’s safe.

It was part of a post she wrote about seeing a play based on the Columbine school shooting, which happened 12 years ago yesterday. The play was a highschool play which the school banned the students from performing, until a local theatre allowed them to perform on their stage.She went on to write about the importance of allowing young people to express themselves through the arts. The end of the post i found particularly moving.

after everything we’ve learned….really?

really, shut the kids up?
shut them up for trying to tackle real art? for trying to say real things?
really, try to stop them from making art that doesn’t apologize and pander, art that swears, art that’s dark and mean and reflects like a jagged mirror?
really clamp your hand over their mouths when they decide to put on a play about the things that are ACTUALLY meaningful to them?
really?
….really?

marilyn manson said, when asked by michael moore in (“Bowling for Columbine”) what he would say to eric harris and dylan klebold if he’d had the chance to talk to them:
“I wouldn’t say a single word. I would listen to what they have to say, and that’s what no one did.”

do not stop listening.
if you don’t listen, they notice.
if you don’t listen, they get angry.
if you don’t listen, they turn the darkness inside out.
eventually, if you don’t listen, they shoot at you.
listen.
everywhere.
all the time.
until you fall dead in the ground, until your fingers fall off and your head hurts:
give the darkness an airtime, a venue, a canvas.
listen.
look.
listen.
you will hear what you what you need to hear.

Wednesday, 20 April 2011

Songs of innocence

A little something to brighten your day.


Macauley Culkin and Elijah Wood


Gary Oldman


Jim Morrison


Joseph Gordon-Levitt


Sean Connery

I love these photos. Something about them just makes me unbelievably happy.

The still point of the turning world


This summer, i would like to be Kirsten Dunst. She hasn't really done anything in a while, but i have a total girl crush on her at the moment.







I want Sofia Coppola to adopt her again so the two of them can make beautiful films made of sunlight.

Sunday, 10 April 2011

The wild and the tame.


So I'm feeling slightly better today. Freaking out slightly less. Staying in bed pretty much all of yesterday eating yogurt and watching Buffy definitely helped. (Yes mum, I took your second piece of advice and wallowed. No exercise for me!)


I still have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, and it terrifies me, but i realize I'm unbelievably lucky, and that i have many many options, and that I'm mainly scared of choosing what to do first. I'll figure it out.


As for right now, it's the sunniest day of the year so far, I'm covered head to toe in sunscreen, and I'm on campus, in the library, reading about clones. Such is life.

Saturday, 9 April 2011

This is getting repetitive

So yet again any semblance of a plan i had for the coming year has fallen through and I'm back to homeless, plan less square one. It's getting mildly frustrating and more than a little scary.
I was going to work the the union, then that didn't work out, then i was going to buy a house, but that didn't work out, so i was going to live with my friend, but now that hasn't worked out either. All this means that when my lease ends in August I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do.


This could be a freeing feeling, I'm now free to move anywhere in the world I want, do whatever i want to do, but instead i just feel more trapped. I really just want someone to tell me what to do. My brother is having fun travelling and being a bit of a drifter, and i can see the appeal, but it's not what I want to do. I love being busy, I love knowing everyone in the building I work in, I don't want to have to move somewhere new and start again, away from everyone I know. At the same time, there are no jobs in Brighton, and the only reason i was staying was to live with Lily. I could move to London, or San Francisco, or anywhere else I want. I'll be equally adrift anywhere i pick, so it really makes no difference.


On the brighter side, my dissertations are going well. I have an email interview with Dave Eggers which will constitute about 2000 words of my 8000 word English dissertation, so a quarter of my work about him will actually be written by him. An ingenious way of doing less work, I think. My film dissertation is still limitlessly depressing and fascinating, so that's fun too.


In my endless search for procrastination materials I came across this video, which is so beautiful and made me cry. I hope it brightens your day.

Tuesday, 29 March 2011

We few, we happy few.

Just a quick post because essays have taken over my life and I'm doing absolutely no socializing for the next month or so. Here are some people i would love to go for a night out with. Honestly, just contemplate the coolness of these guys together in a room.


David Bowie, Iggie Pop and Lou Reed.


Ed Norton, David Fincher ad Brad Pitt, whilst shooting Fight Club


Sidney Poitier and River Phoenix. (This might be my favourite celebrity photograph of all time, I have no idea when or where it was taken, but I LOVE it.)


Hunter S. Thompson, John Cusack and Johnny Depp. (You'd have to be high to fully appreciate the awesomeness though...)


Robert Downey Jr., Hugh Jackman and Sting. In tuxedos. Laughing at a joke you just told. Let's all just appreciate that for a moment.

If you don't stand for something you'll fall for anything

I've written a review, for the first time in absolute ages. I hope you like it. Take my advice and don't watch the movie, it's beyond stupid.


The premise for Sucker Punch is strong enough. Abused orphan Babydoll (Emily Browning) is locked up in an asylum for the criminally insane and has to find a means of escape, aided by four other inmates. The execution of this premise, however, is so convoluted and overplayed as to render the film almost as redundant at the moral it strives to desperately to put across.
Spread across three levels of reality, the Evanescence-music-video real world, the trying-to-be-Chicago-so-much-it-hurts mental ward/dance hall world, and the every-bad-video-game-ever-made world of Babydoll’s quest. Each reality is less engaging than the last. The film’s opening and ending sequences, which take place in reality (or as close to it as the film ever comes) are definitely the most successful, establishing a level of darkness and brutality which would have greatly improved the film had it been continued throughout. All too quickly the film moves into the mental asylum, and the rest of the narrative takes place in a kind of Moulin Rouge meets One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest sub-reality, where the incarcerated girls must dance in their underwear in order to be cured of their mental illness. Babydoll has five days before she is sold to the High Roller (Jon Hamm) (in reality the doctor coming to lobotomize her), and must find five objects to help her and the other girls escape. You see more of the asylum’s sinister head orderly, Blue (Oscar Isaac), and therapist Madam Gorski (Carla Gugino), in this world transformed into a club owner/pimp, and dance teacher/madam respectively. While Madam Gorski seemingly serves no purpose whatsoever apart from to provide another pair of breasts for teenage boys to ogle, Blue provides the film with a credible and genuinely creepy bad guy, thus becoming the only vaguely interesting character in the exercise. When Babydoll is forced to dance she enters the third and most ridiculous world. The setting changes each time she and the other girls enter, moving from snowy ancient Japan, to the First World War, to cheap Lord of the Rings fantasy. Each of these interludes seem somehow both overdone and under-finished, pairing over-long action sequences with sub-par computer game graphics and hokey moralizing from the Wise Man (Scott Glenn). All these scenes include robots. While the first two levels of reality provide at least a little insight into character or narrative, this third level seems created exclusively for a mindless pubescent audience interested only in guns and tits. The film spends most of its time in this state.

It is a shame that Zac Snyder should fall so far from his previous cinematic exploits. While 300 certainly wasn’t the most intellectual of films, it was beautifully rendered and engaging for audiences whether they were familiar with the comic or not. Similarly with Watchmen; regardless of how you feel about the changed ending, the care Snyder took with the source material was clear. Here he is working from his own story, and seems perfectly content to abandon characterisation or plot development in favour of yet another shot of his young cast in their pants. It took over an hour for me to grasp the names of the central characters, but I doubt I’ll ever fully gather why they were involved in the film at all.

Emily Browning is good enough as Babydoll, looking as she does like an anime character come to life. She’s given enough to do but spends most of the film looking miserable and big-eyed while dressed as a schoolgirl with a samurai sword. Jena Malone and Abbie Cornish turn in solid performances as sisters Rocket and Sweet Pea, leaving the audience wondering what two such credible indie actresses are doing in this brainless mess; ditto for Jon Hamm, the two minutes he’s on screen are genuinely intriguing, but you’re left wondering what such a classy guy is doing in such a piece of crap. Jamie Chung and Vanessa Hudgens look good in lingerie, but serve no purpose to the story, and thus are given practically no dialogue and even less character development.

All in all the film takes a decent premise and a handful of good actors, and places them in a horny emo music video. Too earnest to be funny, not smart enough to be good, what we are left with is a mess of poorly executed action sequences and an ill-defined and almost comically inappropriate message about empowerment. Snyder has proved himself as the man to go to for solid comic book adaptations, but when working from his own material he is sadly lacking in both focus and flare.

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Lifestyles of the rich and famous


I just finished my last ever class at university. The last 3 years have gone by so quickly i can hardly believe it.



I just came across this hilarious website called Girls Are Pretty, which has a different short, surreal, vaguely romantic story every day (more or less). Each day is something to celebrate. Today, for instance, is Get Away From The Window Sarah Day!


Get away from the window Sarah. You’re not in love you’re just unemployed and that boy down there on the sidewalk in the rain he’s never going to go back home if you keep giving him a face to moon up at.
Get away from the window Sarah. Girls are human like everybody else. Girls get those dark times, the ones that last two years and eight months, when they’re pretty sure that nothing better’s ever going to happen again. Boys like the one on the sidewalk, they prey on those moments. It’s all they have. They pout like puppies and try to convince you that love is supposed to happen between a pretty girl up in a window and whichever boy is willing to embarrass himself the most for her.
Get away from the window Sarah. You only have sixteen months left of this terrible week. Sink into alcohol or a cult or a job at a non-profit. Just don’t sink into a boy. Not until you find the boy who belongs up in the window, with you on the sidewalk, wondering what in God’s name you’re going to have to do, how cold that rain is going to get, before he finally decides he can’t do better and so condescends to buzz you in.
Just get away from the window Sarah. I promise there’s a boy out there who’s better, better than you.
Happy Get Away From The Window Sarah Day!




All these pictures, and many more i have used over the past few months, and will use for a long time to come, come from an amazing website called This Is Not Porn. It is full of rare and never before seen photos of celebrities. I could waste whole days on there, and i suggest you check it out.