Saturday, 24 October 2009
BNP party leader Nick Griffin managed to grab himself an invite onto BBC Question Time Thursday night and this led to uproar. Somewhat justifiably since he is a proven bigot and leads a political party whereby you have to be white to be a member. It's like he misread the Wimbledon dress code as a young boy and spiralled out of control. So in theory that criteria invalidates them as a truly credible party and perhaps has no entitlement to participate in a serious debate.
But despite being on Question Time, serious debate was at times hard to come by. On the panel was Jack Straw, who must have been delighted he wasn't the bad guy for a change, Bonnie Greer, who without being rascist here was purely on the panel because she was black and could rant at him as much as she liked, smacking Griffin in like a verbal pinata, and it wasn't just her everyone was in on it, which at first is good fun watching him squirm but then on reflection it really was an adult recreation of the smelly kid in class getting a beating, you laugh along because it's a natural instinct in us that makes us bully without knowing.
Before I go on I'd like to say I in no way defend Mr. Griffin or his beliefs and his party. They stupidly believe in claiming back what is a nation that belongs to no-one, white or whatever. If you took their ancestors going back far enough, you'd probably discover they're all either Roman, Viking or French! On the surface what they stand for may make sense to some, especially as white brits are much like the once favoured sibling now graduated and left to their own devices, but in reality the BNP core objective verges on sheer bond-villainry.
Yes immigration is a problem, Britain is a small country packed to the rafters and the generosity granted to many who gain asylum or employment is often detrimental to those born in the country and not given proper support from what is a greedy and complacent government. But what makes our country brilliant is that as a percentage we all know right from wrong and have ethics and morals that set us apart in the world. We are a multi-cultural society and have been for a very long time, the only difference is that we have added further cultures and that I think is a good thing! What the danger is is (hate when you have to put two of the same word together and it never looks right) that we take on too much, the people that form the backbone of the country get neglected and we lose our identity as a nation, instead conforming to a mish mash of others in a horribly awkward P.C. manner. This isn't a need for more white people (we've got half of Poland at the moment) just a respect for values that are already in place and not a shifting of what some hold dear to satisfy some immigrants who perhaps expect too much from our soft gov't.
But anyway I've wandered off again, well so Nick Griffin got a lynching and while i'm not sympathetic towards him, such was the barrage, people actually do feel sorry for him and that is what in retrospect is so gloriously stupid of all involved in that program. What would've worked perfectly well would've been a normal line of questioning to all panel members; Griffin included; and then as debates go on he appears as he is, bumbling, narrow minded and out of his depth. Instead everyone ganged up on him, yes he is a hated man for reasons that are self explanatory, but such high profile exposure will only lead to converting those who had no opinion and to be honest i'd rather they didn't, for the sake of him gaining more power I'd rather some were totally ignorant and non-plussed by him, just some ugly bloke talking out of his arse like all the others..
Sunday, 18 October 2009
Phil writes a blog
I'd like to say I went travelling, backpacked around asia, climbed a mountain, sample many exotic foods and cultures. But I haven't.
I have spent the last (wait while I count) seven months, working hard for no bonus except the odd pat on the back and well done, working hard on my relationship, which is alot more work than I realized it would be. It's led me to doing grown up things like bying a throw from BHS and learning to cook risotto as well as scrutinizing the cost of petrol constantly and I don't even own a car. Money has been particulary scarce and I've experienced the credit crunch from both sides of the fence, struggling in a company underperforming plus watching and occasionally helping my girlfriend find a job. Each month is tougher than the last, from Walkers crisps, to Tesco own brand to Tesco value. Dark times..
As for my hobbies, writing hasn't so much as taken a backseat but disappeared entirely, my website, despite a nice asthetic update by Mike I have left untouched and dormant. I may never rediscover what it was I liked or what drove me to do it, but I may blog more if the mood takes me, never to a pattern or subject. So if you've ever read anything on here before thank you for taking the time and if you like what I do or just like picking on my bad grammar and tedium then you might find more here on my facebook page and on my site, maybe/perhaps/possibly/I'm sure
Other things of note
* Risotto is very nice and cheap to make
* Tesco clubcard double points are sexy
* Up is very good, Pixar are ace
* Never tell your girlfriend another woman has just eyed you up
* Conditioner, while not very manly, is essential if you wish to grow your hair out a bit
* Football Manager 2009 is still a ruiner of lives, but one of the greatest drugs money can buy, roll on 2010....
Sunday, 1 March 2009
'Ladies, gentlemen and Griffins of the jury. Here before me stands a Cyclops. But not just any Cyclops, oh no, a Cyclops accused of a crime he didn't commit.'
Addressing the jury, four legged in a pinstripe suit stood Centaur Lawyer, hot shot maverick attorney, invested in the stone cold pursuit of justice, fighter, lover, organ donor. He continues his address:
'Imagine if you will, it's been a hard day at the office, you've got a stack of paperwork to do and you have a haemorroid that won't budge. You're on edge, you just want to get home to your wife, she's cooking meat loaf, my favourite. You get home and she's got a minotaur attached to her in your marital bed. It's easy to imagine what happens next. At least that's what Prosecution Phoenix is hoping.'
Prosecution Phoenix looks on, sneering beneath his thin rimmed glasses. His client, the flustered cycloptic wife of the defendant, looks on, albeit with less depth perception. Centaur continues:
'But ladies, gentleman and Griffins of the jury this tale is not as open and shut as you may think. What I am about to propose is shocking, damning and plain crazy. But more importantly, it's the truth. Mr. Cyclops did not murder the minotaur and did not burn him to a cinder as will be suggested by Prosecution Phoenix. Times are tight in the Cyclops household there is no doubt, the cost of eyecare has gone up, the price of meat loaf also. You see Mr Cyclops' wife was having an affair yes! But an affair with a motive. A crime of not passion but hunger.'
Mr and Mrs Cyclops look on with unease as he concludes his analysis:
'You see that minotaur was lured into bed under false pretences and eaten, by Mr and Mrs Cyclops!'
The whole courtroom goes into pandemonium. Everyone yelling at each other in protest and at the back of the room a goblin faints, the shocking truth too much to take.
Mr Cyclops looks up to the Centaur and pleads 'I'm paying you to defend me!'
'Justice has no price Mr Cyclops.'
Dragon Judge lets off a burst of flame to call the room to attention 'Order, order! Centaur lawyer do you have any evidence to back this ludicrous theory up?'
'Yes your honour I do, sat behind me is a unicorn, a witness who saw the wretched couple eat the tender beast and unicorns never lie.'
Dragon Judge, shifts his wig slightly and addresses the unicorn 'So...did they do it?'
The unicorn nods and the room gasps. Dragon Judge rules in favour of both parties being guilty and sentences them to sitting alone in a corner and thinking about what they've done and no pudding. After the case Dragon Judge and Centaur Lawyer share a glass of brandy together.
'Centaur Lawyer you son of a bitch!' He roars with laughter. 'You'd be a rich man if you weren't so goddamn self-righteous, you're a loose cannon, by my god you're one hell of a lawyer!'
Centaur Lawyer adjusts his tie and finishes his brandy and reaches for a cigar: 'Thank you your honour but I'm just doing my job.'
'Centaur, what did you make of the case?'
'Well it's the most expensive meatloaf they'll ever eat and they'll be paying the price for along time.'
'Godspeed Centaur Lawyer.'
With that he rides off into the sunset, until the next case....
'You OK sweetheart?'
'Yeah just a bad dream.'
'What was it about?'
She turned over, bleary eyed and anguished.
'I caught you smoking.'
A guilty look spread across Ryan's face, which was then eased by him reminding himself that he had never smoked in his 29 years of living.
'But I don't smoke dear.'
'I know but it really upset me.'
'Cos you were really horrible to me as well.'
Ryan paused and removed the comforting hand he'd placed against her cheek. 'Why am I apologising?'
'Huh?' She responded incredulously.
'Well I didn't do anything.'
'What do you mean?'
'I didn't do anything to upset you.'
'Well no.. but I'm still upset.'
'But should I really have to apologise for something I've never done in real life?'
'So you've done it in dreams?'
'Well maybe once or twice.'
She turned away stifling what appeared and sounded like tears. Ryan pleaded.
'But only when I had to, like when I would be a private detective or secret agent.'
'You should be dreaming of me!'
'Well sometimes I do but I can't control what I do and don't dream of, it just happens.'
'I always dream about you.'
'I do! I always dream about you, like last night.'
'Are they always that bad?'
'No they're normally nice but sometimes bad things happen.'
'Well I never have bad dreams with you in.'
'Is that supposed to make me feel bad?'
'No I didn't mean it that way... well you're making me feel bad anyway, I haven't done anything wrong here so I smoked in a dream so what? What difference does it make?'
'None I suppose.' She conceded.
A silent pause followed for what seemed infinite to Ryan.
'So who else do you dream about?' She asked.
'Before you think it I've never cheated on you in a dream. I had dinner with Jeff Goldblum once but nothing happened.'
'I had the pasta, he had the steak, that was about it.'
She turned with a slight smile to him. 'Good.'
Monday, 23 February 2009
Erm let's start with last night's Oscars! Very happy Slumdog Millionaire won lots of awards, not exactly the masterpiece everyone keeps saying it is but hey ho it was nice to see a small film do well. I felt sorry for Mickey Rourke who I was rooting for best actor, not just for his great performance but because The Wrestler was a great film and deserved a lot more nominations. Not only did he lose but he lost to Sean Penn, great actor yes but serial Oscar baiter and it felt like his win soured what was a great show for the underdogs. Hugh Jackman was a left-field host choice but he turned out very classy and old-school, his jokes were ok and the guy moves well in a tux. Shame though that his decent singing got blown out of the water by Beyonce and her ever expanding hips. I swear she's packing immigrants into those dresses.
Speaking of dresses it's customary no matter how masculine I feel, or not, to pass judgement on the red carpet gownfest of women. To be honest most of the biggest stars looked bloody awful, apart from Kate Winslet. Tilda Swinton however daring and kooky and well respected she is, just simply looked like she'd turned her outfit last year inside out and cut it in half. Not necessary a bad thing until you factor in last year she wore a bin liner.
Anyways not been writing much lately, been taking some time out of work and spending it with my girlfriend. Plus I knackered the tendons in my hand at work so sometimes it's just plain painful. The early part of a relationship always seems to be the most exciting part (the only part I really know to be honest) and despite my creative train of thought completely derailing, she's indelibly marked herself in my life in such a short space of time and made me as happy as I've ever been. Since the year began it has lead me to question many things, the first hurdle was love and a split heart and now that is resolved I'm now questioning what is it that really makes me happy?
I've always been interested in writing and to an extent it can make me happy, it's fulfilling to finish something no matter how small and to create things that somebody else, even if it's just one person says they enjoy. It's a nice feeling, but the actual process of writing itself becomes laborious at times. I struggle with technical thought on structure and only finish about 10% of the ideas I have, often becoming disillusioned and unable to find suitable endings. Almost anything I write never stands up to my own scrutiny and to be honest the time I've spent not writing in the last month has been a very happy time, besides my actual job of course. Does this mean I really have another calling in life and that for my mental health I should jack it in? Or should I find a way to organize my brain to accommodate my passions and to just carry on and start using the people around me to get involved in what I do. Things to ponder....
Also on side notes:
* Don't try any of the limited edition Walkers flavours they are all horrid
* Lady GaGa is also horrid, both in her music and perhaps as a person (maybe she isn't I'm just guessing)
* Wearing sweatbands can make you look younger and stylish while also improving your circulation
* The colour purple suits me a lot better than I thought it would.
Thursday, 5 February 2009
*Because they may not be true
1. Billy Joel is a hermaphrodite.
2. Billy Joel is only four inches tall, but gives off the illusion of being taller by walking around behind a thin sheet of magnified glass.
3. Billy Joel reacts violently whenever confronted by a blender. For this reason he is banned from all branches of Currys.
4. Billy Joel has a great passion for rap music. So much so he recorded a whole Cold War rap concept album. The only song that survived was 'We Didn't Start The Fire'.
5. Billy Joel is a Decepticon.
6. Billy Joel writes the jokes on the back of Penguin bars.
7. Billy Joel sleeps in the River of Dreams and always wakes up sopping wet.
8. Billy Joel doesn't like knife crime, he finds his music is a much better tool for punishing the weak.
9. Billy Joel's voice once made The Pope cry. He apologised but The Pope said 'It's ok they're happy tears'.
10. Billy Joel isn't actually Billy Joel. Neil Diamond is.
Thursday, 22 January 2009
Now I know rape is not to be laughed at, but when famed social commentator Jordan decides to throw in her opinion..
GLAMOUR girl JORDAN has called for a new punishment for rapists – they should be raped themselves.
The tough-talking star – who also agrees with the death penalty – said: “The way I see it is an eye for an eye.
“So if someone rapes a girl he should be bent over and the same thing done to him. I’m sorry that’s just the way I feel. I’m very strict.”
Jordan, real name KATIE PRICE, added: “If someone is done for drink-driving they should have their licence taken away for life.
“And if someone steals they should have to wear a dye on their skin, like a tattoo on their ear or somewhere it can be seen – like across their face! That would stop people stealing.”
The 30-year-old model – who is moving to the US with husband PETER ANDRE – also voiced support for gay marriages.
Rapist required, flexible hours in a social environment. Hourly rate above minimum wage and free condoms supplied. No experience necessary.
Now look what happens, because of the need to hire rapists to rape rapists, you now have a vicious cycle of rape that is never ending! What kind of a cure is that eh? If Jordan ruled this country; which if she's moving to America we'll be spared from; life as we know it would surely end, we would devolve to a primate species, raping each other, unable to drive and with 'feef' tattoed on our foreheads. Grave indeed....
Saturday, 3 January 2009
Of the ways I wished to start my Friday, finding my phone had mysteriously broken itself was not high on my list. A morning spent trying to negotiate various questions and belated Happy New Year texts using only letters between A and O was an almighty test of my vocabulary and further still it's only ever in the event of your phone breaking that every man, woman and badger in the land decides to text or call you. Eventually it was a case of just ignoring it all, safe in the knowledge my excuse was watertight and genuine. I took my phone in to Vodafone (Excellent customer service, but a better chance of getting an MBE than a decent signal) since my contract was running up soon anyway, I perused the new phones out, laid eyes on a lovely Sony Ericsson, the Samsung Omnia (sounds like a disease) and finally fell to my knees before the new Blackberry Storm, a piece of gadgetalia so sexy it could win a wet t-shirt competition. It will be mine eventually... and while I dream of that I am left to writhe in agony at the courtesy phone I was provided with while my trusty little Samsung gets a fix up.
So behold above the Sharp GX17, invented and designed by simpletons with buttons so small and useless only a small nine year old could work it properly. The camera makes every person pixelated like a SNES game and even if you called the person right next to you, it would sound like they were in Bombay. It's horrendous. I never thought I'd miss an inanimate object as much as I miss my phone. Next Tuesday can't come soon enough.. To make matters worse as I've typed this I figured I would charge it, I've just discovered the charger doesn't fit and will probably be flat by tomorrow. Well on the bright side at least I don't have to use it...
Onto medical matters now and one trait of mine since a young age has been that I've had cold hands. People would always say 'Cold hands mean a warm heart' and while that's very sweet my hands are getting progressively colder which means the saying is nonsense since if my heart was warm enough so would be my fingers. It's reaching a point where I can chill drinks with the tip of my thumb. It's something I should be getting looked at, my blood pressure tests have always been spot on and I can rock a high level on a bleep test, but something about me doesn't feel right and hasn't for a while. Maybe I'm fussing over nothing, maybe I've got three months to live, maybe i'm like Jason Statham in Crank and I need car chases, sex and fighting to stay warm.. maybe...
Friday, 2 January 2009
I have some elements of my life right now that I'm very happy with and people around me who keep me going. The only real things that I'm disatisfied with are really things that I can solve pretty easily with a little hard work and some perseverance.
Being positive has been something of a mantra over the past couple of months, but the word I'm going to have tattoed on my forehead backwards is going to be perseverance. Every time I look in the mirror i'll see it, everytime anyone else sees it they'll see a strange man with a long Russian looking word on his face. Actually let's scrap that idea....
With all this New Year enthusiasm that generally lasts until January 3rd I'm listing all my resolutions, some standard, some weirdly negative and some just plain weird
MY 12 RESOLUTIONS
1) Finish the stories sitting around half done
2) Watch Juno again, because last time round I didn't remember any of it
3) Be more selfish, sounds horrible but in truth I'm not selfish enough and I should be sometimes, just a little, not a lot
4) Get a new job
5) Network; i've never been comfortable with it or really unstood what it entails but they say it's not what you know it's who you know
6) Save money
7) Get more money and then spend it while I save the regular money
8) Watch more films
9) Win the Champions League on Football Manager 2009
10) Cook a lasagne from scratch
11) Make my film, show my film, then make a better one
12) Develop an idea that could stretch to a novel or even assemble short stories that can be interlinked to novel length, thus making me incredibly rich when it gets published after my relatives buy every single copy of it