Eurovision RAWKS!
by John Walker on May.20, 2006, under The Rest
Finally the Eurovision Song Contest has delivered a Just Result!
Trying to explain Eurovision to someone in America is not an easy task. Obviously the “so bad it’s good” cliche is so over-used that few are prepared to believe it any more, and with American Idol the most popular programme on American television people are too ready to believe they have a vague understanding of what it’s all about. They don’t.
I love Eurovision. I can’t stand the vast majority of the self-aware tat that fills Saturday evenings, and will once more smugly not watch a single moment of Big Brother so I can feel special and self-important. But Eurovision is my annual treat, and I delight in wading in its monstrously abysmal tides.
This year’s was the most perfect example of all that makes it so very awful. Everyone took it madly seriously, but for three of the twenty-four countries. The ever-hilarious Germany swayed from their usual peculiarly clownish rock to some sort of Western-country nonsense with background cactii, while Lithuania made themselves heroes by performing a song entitled “We Are The Winners of Eurovision” – a prophecy that sadly didn’t come true. But fantastically came reasonably close. It must be seen.
But the consolation was joyous, with the first deserving winner in living memory. Rather than some dreadful ballad eventually being the near-random song to manage to poke its head above the political voting of the south and Eastern block, this year the most accomplished entry came top by a long stretch. Finland. The not so much ‘death metal’ as ‘bit of a cough metal’ band Lordi (The Lord), in their ghastly prosthetic masks and power-rock Meatloafian costumes (complete with extending black angelic wings), sang the least Eurovision song imaginable, entitled Hard Rock Hallelujah. Deliberately silly, and flaunting the confusion they enjoy over their spiritual alignment, the ridiculous rawk-and-droll chorus manages to even make a nod toward melody. And it deserves special merit for the lyrical beauty of “arockalypse” and “the day of rockening”!
Spectacular gibberish, and hopefully by celebrating it here, American readers will begin to understand exactly what they’re missing.
This is the band’s video of the song, as sadly there are as yet no decent quality uploads of tonight’s performance.
We Do Need An Education
by John Walker on May.19, 2006, under The Rest
http://www.wiltshiretimes.co.uk/display.var.765895.0.no_entry.php
Ok, comments on this again.
For the last three years I worked with a number of the young people now affected by this stupid and irrational decision. One of the more awkward parts of being a youth worker, and occasionally working within the school, was while finding myself entirely agreeing with the teenagers’ assessment of their new head, I had to remain professional in my responses.
My main position was to encourage them to work together to protest any number of his ridiculous and draconian random-o-rules in an organised and mature manner that their headteacher appeared incapable of. If they were reasoned, he would look even more out of line. But I confess that on some of his more ludicrous new rules (a typical behaviour by someone who wishes to assume power without authority), I was unable to not splutter in surprise.
This latest, and hopefully last, action goes beyond all belief.
In suspending the entire Year 11, literally forcing 173 pupils out of the school grounds in the middle of one of their lessons, because of a few end-of-school pranks, Colquhoun has asserted his failure to lead the school. The innumerous new measures and rules he introduced over the last few years have all failed to demonstrate either an understand of the behaviour of teenagers, and more crucially, in no way listened to what the young people had to say.
The usual last-day-of-school-ever pranks were all it took. I don’t know of anyone who didn’t have the fire alarm set off in their final week, and usually an awful lot worse. To not be expecting it demonstrates ignorance. To not know who was responsible demonstrates poor management. Every pupil in the school will know who did it – therefore that not one teacher knows is extremely unlikely.
However, in this instance the bell was set off during Oxford entrance exams, which carries complications. Obviously there are measures in place for such an event – indeed, had there been a genuine fire, I sincerely doubt that people would be penalised for not burning to their deaths in order to qualify – but it clearly made the prank carry more serious implications. Unfortunately, rather than stop and think, the head simply lashed out, and has now caused the Year 11 to miss out on saying goodbye to their teachers, each other, and to have the last-day celebrations they’ll have looked forward to for years. The punishment he presumably intends. But more importantly, they miss out on the last two days’ worth of exam preparation, are unable to access their revision notes left in the school, and perhaps most significantly, are demoralised as a year group moments before their crucial exams begin.
In an astonishing display of the complete lack of thought or management behind his rash and cruel decision, Colquhoun told the furious parents and upset pupils, “Only six lessons have been lost from the original plans. We are not talking about a bodyblow to their GCSEs.”
Yes you are. You’re talking about demoralising a year group because of the actions of the few, due to terrible management skills (incredibly, he also said, “The school had become unmanageable”), refusing them access to their revision notes for no discernable or rational reason, and refusing them the right to those last six lessons of vital exam preparation. THAT is a bodyblow to their GCSEs.
When Gods Attack
by John Walker on May.12, 2006, under Photos
Using the sophisticated 15 second video feature on my seven year old digital camera, and then capturing screens of it in terrible quality, I have proven the existence of long, thin and extremely transient UFOs/angry gods attacking Bath, in what I believe is a traditionally blurry style.
The first signs of attack, as a portal opens above Bath’s Bath.
Shortly after the Sun is destroyed, some form of electrical beam burns the ground below.
At this point the main rift in the universe tears open. I’ve captured it in three stages, demonstrating the full force of the attack.
The rift explosively lets through untold volumes of “danger” into the world.
As it appears to be closing, the full horror is revealed as dozens of other enslaughts begin.
Goodbye cruel world.
E3 News
by John Walker on May.10, 2006, under The Rest
As ever, Botherer Blog is first with all the most important E3 news.
We exclusively bring you news that CryTek’s latest project, Crysis, appears to use the word “penised”. Which is odd.
Psychic Predictions
by John Walker on May.08, 2006, under The Rest
Here are some predictions for what will happen tonight with Morono-The-Magic, David “Camera Trick” Blaine. Should I be wrong, so be it. But it will look cool if I’m right:
– His world record attempt at holding his breath for nine minutes will not be eligible for inclusion in the Guiness Book of World Records for some obfuscatory reason.
– During his ‘escape’ attempt, he will suddenly look like he’s in incredible trouble, and be about to drown, and people in the crowd will scream and an emergency team will have to rush in. But Blaine will be gone! And appear somewhere else.
– The crowd will drown him for being the most irritating human of all time.
EDIT: Oh, he just did a rubbish anticlimax instead. Nice showmanship Blaine.
Suede Tribute
by John Walker on May.08, 2006, under The Rest
For reasons too simple to explain I was given cause today to write an impression of 1990s dying cat impersonators, Suede. Feeling very pleased with myself, I reproduce it here:
Thiiiis is the ooonly verse I botherrrrrred with.
I didn’t really try with this oooone eeeeiiither.
Thiiiis is the ooonly verse I botherrrrrred with.
Even two lines of iiiiiiit aaarre the saaaaaame.
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
Can I have a million pounds now please?
Do you hate games?
by John Walker on May.08, 2006, under The Rest
This week we couldn’t find anyone of consequence. Sorry about that.
Some guy called ‘Suki’ started asking me all these weird questions.
Someone noticed!
by John Walker on May.08, 2006, under The Rest
Thanks to Kim for pointing this out.
£100
by John Walker on May.06, 2006, under Rants
Things for which I would happily pay £100 a year:
To not have to shave
To never be asked “Are you sure you want to quit?” I’ll handle the responsibility for accidental quits myself.
To be chipped such that I can neither see nor hear public reminders to “take all my personal possessions when I exit the [insert ANYTHING ANYWHERE]”…
(On second thoughts thank goodness, I suppose, because when I get on a train I think all my personal possessions have to be left as an offering to the Train Monster, who without my donated property will otherwise eat my eyes. And I think it each and every time afresh, no matter what. As for aeroplanes, I ensure that all my valuable items are firmly stowed in the seat-back pockets before getting off, because it’s a polite tip to the pilot… Pardon? Really? Oh! Apparently you don’t have to do this! I’m supposed to take my valuable items with me when I get off the plane! How silly I’d feel if they didn’t remind me of this EVERY FIFTEEN SECONDS EVERYWHERE I GO.
You know what – if I leave my own stuff somewhere in public, that’s my own stupid fault. And don’t give me any crap about bombs – remember the news story about the people who found the suspicious bag on the train, and it turned out to be a bomb? NO! BECAUSE IT NEVER, EVER HAPPENS. Here’s how you know when they’re bombs: THEY EXPLODE.
You know what Thames Trains, how about instead of having the digital displays you’ve wasted trillions of pounds on installing to replace those presumably exhausting and money-consuming tannoy announcements, how about you maybe stop having it remind me to “please take all your personal possessions with you when leaving the train” (As opposed to what? My IMPERSONAL possessions? Items I own but for which I don’t feel any particular affiliation should be routinely left behind? Or are you warning me off taking everyone else’s personal possessions in the confusion of this horrifically complicated getting-off-something procedure through which I must be so meticulously babysat? Maybe you could make the infernally slowly scrolling sentence a bit more detailed, because the realms of ambiguity have left me all muddled. “Please do your best to remember to take with you all items that you brought with you when boarding the train and indeed any further items that you might have purchased during your journey when leaving the train which you should only do at the station to which you intended to travel please.”) the entire time, and maybe have it state the name of the next stop more often than, oh I don’t know, THE INTERVAL BETWEEN STOPS.
Er, I got distracted).
To have access to foodstuffs that are not sealed in triplicate and then encased in concrete. I somehow made it through the 80s when the plastic lid of the margarine and the margarine itself were not divided by the impermeable fortress of a piece of paper, and found that, despite the complete lack of flimsily sealing loose bits of plastic, at no point was I killed by a jar of jam.
To have access to the pavement/sidewalk equivalent of a ‘diamond lane’. Not, as you might immediately suspect, for people giving piggybacks, but simply for those who have passed a test to demonstrate that they are capable of the intricate task of walking in a straight line, and will therefore actually go somewhere at some point.
To have dinnerladies (or “Midday Supervisors” as I was recently told they’re now known) employed by restaurants and pubs, with the responsibility for stepping out when the room volume has become ludicrously loud – simply because everyone’s trying to be heard over the sound of everyone else trying to be heard – and sharply clap their hands and ask that “the noise level come down now please,” resetting things to a tolerable place for another fifteen minutes.
The Laboured Party
by John Walker on May.05, 2006, under The Rest
With Labour’s significant losses last night, a big shift toward the Conservatives, and the horrific gains in Barking (another win for Predeterminative Nomenclature) and elsewhere for the extreme-right racist BNP, hopefully the last of the sit-back-and-not-worriers will begin to recognise the distinct shift to the right occuring here.
Stephen Colbert’s rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic/Hindenberg joke is suddenly appropriate all over again, as Blair attempts to demonstrate authority by, er, moving all his best MPs into menial roles, and appointing shovel-faced morons like Beckett as Foreign Secretary. Because obviously Jack Straw was doing such a terrible job… oh no, wait. Blair appears to be upping the ante by setting fire to the deckchairs on the Titanic.
So here’s a sobering thought: