I've just finished watching the Guardian's round-up of the year's films, and it was clear that Xan Brooks and Jason Solomons are both of the unprogressive school of film critics. Solomons decried the entire comic-book adaption genre, including perhaps this year's best film Kick Ass and the rather flakier but nevertheless entertaining Scott Pilgrim, while in the 'Guilty Pleasure' category Hot Tub Time Machine and Piranha 3D were the nominees. Both were convinced that their choices were 'rubbish', and yet they both enjoyed them immensely, sidestepping the thorny issue of whether an entertaining film can be considered good even if it wallows merrily in the mud of the derivative or the self-consciously schlocky. I am going to explore whether a film that prioritises viewer pleasure over artistic substance can be judged to be good, or accurately judged at all.
Nearly every film ever made was made with the intention of being entertaining (why are there no decent synonyms for entertaining?), and nearly everyone goes to the cinema with the intention of being entertained. Even the most journalistic of genres, the political documentary, will be presented in such a way to actively engage with its viewers. Almost nobody has more than a basic knowledge of film theory with which to analyse cinematic technique, and even most film students such as myself judge a film mostly on how absorbing it is. The whole film industry is built upon making films that engage their target market, and the more successfully this is achieved the greater the box-office receipts. When critics like the aformentioned Brooks and Solomons bow under apparent critical peer-pressure it's indicative of the tendency of film writers to try and evaluate films in the manner of literary and music critics (who are both also guilty of the same tendency), when film is an entirely different medium and so should be judged after it's own fashion.
But. 'Entertainment' is impossible to quantify. It is entirely subjective. I really enjoyed, say, Cloverfield yet most of my friends were put off by the herky-jerky camera; another of my friends really hates Forrest Gump. How is a critic supposed to intrinsically judge the collective mood of not just the audience in his or her screening, but the mood of every audience in every cinema in every country? Would it not make more sense to analyse a film based on its more concrete elements such as cinematography, script, acting, themes etc? Furthermore, if a film is entertaining but contains questionable material, for instance homophobia or political insensitivity, it would be a poor critic that fails to dock marks. I think it would be fair to say that critical analysis of films with cultural and political pretentions is possible along the lines of how well it achieves this, but this group would be a minority. Likewise would an attempt to judge films by how well they achieve their primary objective fail - many films just want to be fun, which brings us back to square one.
So, the original questions is still unsettled, but how about the inverse: Are good films always entertaining? I've used it in arguments for the past several blogs but I'm using it again here: Citizen Kane (despite being flawed) is still technically decent, yet no one I've ever met has actually particularly enjoyed it. In fact it could be the epitome of the hypocritical attitude I bemoned earlier, and in the previous blog - declaring it to be less exaulted than previously thought would be seen as an attempt to undermine critical theory as a whole, such is its position as a vaunted text. Other than this, I'm struggling to think of further examples. Jackie Brown was dissapointing, as was Vertigo, Ratatouille and The Untouchables, but I think broadly speaking film critics get it right.
Wednesday 29 December 2010
Thursday 23 December 2010
The Baffling Case of Videogame Nostalgia.
"We drank dandelion wine and we reminisced
About the moment when we first met that day.
(I'm trying to watch TV)
Then we reminisced about how we first reminisced
(Oh yeah? Sounds a bit gay)"
Then we reminisced about how we first reminisced
(Oh yeah? Sounds a bit gay)"
Brett McKenzie, Rambling Through the Avenues of Time
Us humans love a good, regular dose of nostalgia. Remembering the good times brings us closer, whether you're a few old pals re-living wild parties before the knee, backs and livers gave way, or if you're that boring kid clinging desperately onto that one time when they were actually involved in something worth remembering ("see, I am funny!").
This classic 'rose-tinted glasses' syndrome applies not just to memories, but to more or less anything that we like - literature, films, music, wars even - and for the most part this is fine. Nostaglia comes in two forms, however: critical nostalgia and popular nostalgia. Popular is entirely harmless; it's my generation getting excited by Blink-182 - they were great when we were 14 but looking back they're basically shit (complaints in the comments section please) - but there is no arrogance around it, no air of superiority nor snooty intellectualising. No, these traits are found instead in critical nostalgia. They see classic cultural touchstones through blinkers, and while there will always be revisionist thinkers if something is perceived as great it will take a huge amount of re-evaluation to knock it off its perch.
Sense and Sensibility is unspeakably boring; Citizen Kane is far from the great character-study film that it is seen to be; the Beach Boys are excessively annoying (Good Vibrations aside). All these would presumably get five-star reviews, when one, three and three respectively, would be more appropriate. I get the impression that a large part of this nostalgia comes from the youth - or at least the critics of the future - having it drummed into them that things such as these are 'great'.
Nevertheless, the three mainstream cultural schools can be evaluated, rightly or wrongly, in the same way today as when they were released - that is the tools with which they were made haven't changed much in the intervening years. The English language of today is much the same as when Sense and Sensibility was published in 1811; the classic cinema techniques of shot-selection, editing etc. used now were established before Citizen Kane was filmed; musicanship hasn't improved since Pet Sounds. There is one nostalgic trend that I've yet to mention, and that is of videogame nostalgia.
Videogame nostalgia toes the line between cultural and popular nostalgia. People now approaching middle-age can look back with affection, but there are videogame critics who think Space Invaders and its ilk are genuinely good games. That the hardware on which it was developed was pathetic compared to the behemoths of today doesn't change the fact that it is bad. As adorable as they are, baby steps are still less assured that an adult's stride. Like Kane et al, Space Invaders was good upon first release, but unlike Kane it can't defend itself against the test of time - the rules have utterly changed in the 32 years since.
Bafflingly, developers are still trying to emulate that 8-bit style. Dark Void Zero, released this year, is a nominee for Gamespot.com's Platformer of the Year award, despite being shite. It runs entirely on the fumes of nostalgia: the soundtrack is made of those 8-bit bloops and blops that only the Mario theme can get away with these days, the graphics are deliberately pixellated ( read: made worse) - and the gameplay is creaky at best. 1980s emulation can be done well: 3D Dot Game Heroes is a great modernised pastiche of early Zelda titles, but it is very much the exception. When complex and challenging games like Heavy Rain and Shadow of the Colossus are being made, 8-bit gaming is just a candle in the wind.
Thursday 9 December 2010
The Day We Caught The Train
At the end of the '90s, after the Brit-pop hubbub had calmed down, it was Oasis who reigned supreme over the decade. Their two monster albums, What's the Story (Morning Glory) and Definitely Maybe spawned equally monsterous hits, and were as well recieved by the public as the critical press. Then in the mid '00s, revisionist music critics realised that it wasn't Oasis, or Blur, or Radiohead, or Suede that had made the best album and written the best song, but in fact, Pulp. I'm not saying Common People wasn't loved immediately and intensely after it came out, because it was, but critical appreciation for it seems to have increased over the years. Perhaps this is because it remains as relevant today as during the 90s, in contrast to Oasis and Blur who now feel slightly dated.
However, not even Common People was the best Brit-pop song. No, this title goes to Ocean Colour Scene's The Day We Caught The Train. OCS are decidedly second tier as far as 90s bands go - their best album, 1996's Mosely Shoals has two brilliant songs (The Riverboat Song being the other), and the rest are just fine. Common People and TDWCTT (what a shit acronym) are distinctly different: one is smart, witty and observant while the other is punchier and catchier. Common People may actually be the better song, but TDWCTT (for God's sake, there's not even a key word I can use like Oranges in the last blog) captures the hazy optimism that I associate with the 90s, where England could still play football, summer holidays always seemed to be hot and the economy was in rude health; in other words, its message is diametrically opposite to that of Common People.
TDWCTT is just a perfect pop song. It clocks in at just over three minutes, but in that time it manages to cram in a whole load of great melodies, none more so than the glorious outro, 'When you find that things are getting wild / Don't you want days like these?' It's sing-along perfection, but the sort of thing that other bands would have stretched out over five minutes such is the strength of it (see: Hey Jude), but Ocean Colour Scene keep it tidy. The reference to The Beatles is no mere coincidence, TDWCTT could easily be one of theirs; indeed, before I knew who the band was The Beatles was my first guess.
It's a camp-fire song, an escapist song, a song for the good times right up there with the very best.
However, not even Common People was the best Brit-pop song. No, this title goes to Ocean Colour Scene's The Day We Caught The Train. OCS are decidedly second tier as far as 90s bands go - their best album, 1996's Mosely Shoals has two brilliant songs (The Riverboat Song being the other), and the rest are just fine. Common People and TDWCTT (what a shit acronym) are distinctly different: one is smart, witty and observant while the other is punchier and catchier. Common People may actually be the better song, but TDWCTT (for God's sake, there's not even a key word I can use like Oranges in the last blog) captures the hazy optimism that I associate with the 90s, where England could still play football, summer holidays always seemed to be hot and the economy was in rude health; in other words, its message is diametrically opposite to that of Common People.
TDWCTT is just a perfect pop song. It clocks in at just over three minutes, but in that time it manages to cram in a whole load of great melodies, none more so than the glorious outro, 'When you find that things are getting wild / Don't you want days like these?' It's sing-along perfection, but the sort of thing that other bands would have stretched out over five minutes such is the strength of it (see: Hey Jude), but Ocean Colour Scene keep it tidy. The reference to The Beatles is no mere coincidence, TDWCTT could easily be one of theirs; indeed, before I knew who the band was The Beatles was my first guess.
It's a camp-fire song, an escapist song, a song for the good times right up there with the very best.
Monday 6 December 2010
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit
I've got no idea where this blog might go so it could we be a load of shite. I await the result as eagerly as you. (Looking back, I should probably say spoilers ahead)
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit (Jeanette Winterson, 1986) is the sort of book that made me want to study literature. Forget Sense and Sensibility, Mary Barton, even Jane Eyre - Oranges, for me, is what literature should be about.
First of all, it's funny. Not just funny, but hilarious at times - one of the funniest books I've ever read, in fact. I can't remember who said it, but to paraphrase, they said all great literature should have comedy: life is funny, and what is literature if not a reflection of life? The aforementioned Sense and Sensibility is supposed to be funny, but let's get this straight - it's not. Not even close. There does seem to be a dearth of wit amongst the mid-19th century. Maybe the period just wasn't particularly funny; in all walks of culture there are celebrated artists from that period, except comedy. Had it even been invented? Who knows. I digress.
The star of Oranges, at least in comedic terms, is undoubtedly Jeanette's Mother. It's not just her puzzling religious beliefs that are funny (she at one point declares Jeanette's sudden deafness to be aresult of Jeanette being 'full of Spirit' and leaves it at that), but she is also clearly batshit crazy. Jeanette returns home once to find a letter from her mother that reads: "Dear Jeanette, we have gone to the hospital to pray for Aunt Bessie. Her leg is very loose. Love, Mother". What in God's name is a 'loose leg'?! Of course, she becomes less funny once she exiles Jeanette for being a lesbian, bitch.
While other study books this semester deal with themes in a broad way, for example the comment on the educated middle-class male in Jekyll and Hyde, Oranges is very much more focused. It took me a while to understand what the title related to, but once I had done it was very staisfying.
"Oranges are not the only fruit?" said my friend. "That's a pretty obvious statment isn't it?"
"No", I should have replied, "It may be obvious to us, but for someone that's been raised in a household where orange is the only fruit, where God is the only way of thinking and heterosexuality is the only possible sexuality, then the realisation that orange is not, in fact, the only fruit, is a powerful one". However I didn't say that because I suck at thinking on the spot.
One thing I didn't expect was the mother's realisation that orange is not the only fruit. Eventually shewelcomes allows Jeanette back into the house, and uses an enormous amount of tinned pineapples as the primary foodstuff for a mission to an un-named place where coloured people live in the blind assumption that black people must like pineapples. It's a start, at least.
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit (Jeanette Winterson, 1986) is the sort of book that made me want to study literature. Forget Sense and Sensibility, Mary Barton, even Jane Eyre - Oranges, for me, is what literature should be about.
First of all, it's funny. Not just funny, but hilarious at times - one of the funniest books I've ever read, in fact. I can't remember who said it, but to paraphrase, they said all great literature should have comedy: life is funny, and what is literature if not a reflection of life? The aforementioned Sense and Sensibility is supposed to be funny, but let's get this straight - it's not. Not even close. There does seem to be a dearth of wit amongst the mid-19th century. Maybe the period just wasn't particularly funny; in all walks of culture there are celebrated artists from that period, except comedy. Had it even been invented? Who knows. I digress.
The star of Oranges, at least in comedic terms, is undoubtedly Jeanette's Mother. It's not just her puzzling religious beliefs that are funny (she at one point declares Jeanette's sudden deafness to be aresult of Jeanette being 'full of Spirit' and leaves it at that), but she is also clearly batshit crazy. Jeanette returns home once to find a letter from her mother that reads: "Dear Jeanette, we have gone to the hospital to pray for Aunt Bessie. Her leg is very loose. Love, Mother". What in God's name is a 'loose leg'?! Of course, she becomes less funny once she exiles Jeanette for being a lesbian, bitch.
While other study books this semester deal with themes in a broad way, for example the comment on the educated middle-class male in Jekyll and Hyde, Oranges is very much more focused. It took me a while to understand what the title related to, but once I had done it was very staisfying.
"Oranges are not the only fruit?" said my friend. "That's a pretty obvious statment isn't it?"
"No", I should have replied, "It may be obvious to us, but for someone that's been raised in a household where orange is the only fruit, where God is the only way of thinking and heterosexuality is the only possible sexuality, then the realisation that orange is not, in fact, the only fruit, is a powerful one". However I didn't say that because I suck at thinking on the spot.
One thing I didn't expect was the mother's realisation that orange is not the only fruit. Eventually she
Tuesday 30 November 2010
Today is a Good News Day
For some reason, a really high number of cool things have happened, or been reported, today. I'm talking really cool things, like immortality and alien life. Not even kidding. Take a look.
Did NASA Discover Life on One of Saturn's Moons?
Ageing has been reversed in mice, now for humans?
Over-blown video about it here
Growing a windpipe from stem-cells has been described as 'embarrasingly simple', the speed with which it was inserted was limited by London traffic rather than the time it took to make.
Then, not so cool but something that feels important and is slightly disturbing:
FIFA is an extremely corrupt organisation. This makes me sad.
Lastly, more football, sorry, but Barcelona 5-0 Real Madrid was pretty cool too.
Science is awesome; humans are awesome
And once more the brilliance of the sport of football is almost overshadowed by the god-awful mess that goes on off the pitch. Wankers at every level.
Did NASA Discover Life on One of Saturn's Moons?
Ageing has been reversed in mice, now for humans?
Over-blown video about it here
Growing a windpipe from stem-cells has been described as 'embarrasingly simple', the speed with which it was inserted was limited by London traffic rather than the time it took to make.
Then, not so cool but something that feels important and is slightly disturbing:
FIFA is an extremely corrupt organisation. This makes me sad.
Lastly, more football, sorry, but Barcelona 5-0 Real Madrid was pretty cool too.
Science is awesome; humans are awesome
And once more the brilliance of the sport of football is almost overshadowed by the god-awful mess that goes on off the pitch. Wankers at every level.
Thursday 25 November 2010
Why Spurs Are The Best Team To Support
It occurred to me recently that Spurs are best team in the country to support. I'm not saying they're the best, far from it, but just the most bloody entertaining, certainly in the last four years or so. Dad picked the right team. Here's why:
1) We don't do boring. Thanks to our habit of buying excellent attackers (Berbatov (he's gone but for the purpose for this blog he counts), Defoe, Pavlyuchenko, Bale, Crouch etc. etc. etc.) and good but eternally injured defenders (King, Woodgate) we concede a lot and score even more. Things have calmed down a little bit compared with 2007/8 where 4-4 draws were not uncommon - Arsenal Villa and Chelsea spring to mind - but we just don't do bore-draws. It's not easy on the nerves but it's great fun at the end of the day. 4-4 is always more fun than 1-0.
2) We're a thoroughly English club (relatively speaking). Daniel Levy is one of the few English chairmen in the Premier League, and certainly the richest of the lot. Not only is he liberal with his cash, but he also runs the club like a business, which, while it may sound dry, means we have among the best financial structure in the league. There are no £400m pound debts here. Furthermore, he's a very smart man: the £8m capture of Rafael Van Der Vaart was a stunning piece of business: the man is superb. Our team is also far more English (or British at least) than perhaps any other club in the top division. Unencumbered by injuries, our first team would include 8 British players (King, Woodgate/Dawson, Hutton, Lennon, Huddlestone, Bale, Crouch, Defoe), which is none too shabby.
3) Defeat makes victory all the sweeter. There are few other clubs that can say they have lost to Wigan and Bolton either side of thrashing Inter Milan (or something similar, obviously). Losing is annoying but it keeps our feet on the ground. Whilst we continue to slip up the club and its fans won't gain the arrogant sense of entitlement that others do (ahem, Arsenal and United), and won't sack the manager if even just a few such slip ups occur (ahem, Man City and Chelsea).
4) Heroes emerge from the unlikeliest places. In dire moments a strangely large number of players will step their game up and do something unexpected. Look to Alan Hutton, a largely ignored player, against Stoke (I think) a few weeks back where he scored one and won a penalty; Danny Rose scoring an absolute pearler against Arsenal in one of the crucial final few league matches of the season that helped secure a Champions League berth; Gareth Bale coming from almost nowhere to be the hottest property in Europe; a rare Huddlestone howitzer: there really are a lot of them.
5) We don't seem to have any twats at the club. 'Arry may occasionally show questionable morals, but on the other hand he is refreshingly candid and bullshit free. There are no Drogba or Ronaldo characters who dive at any opportunity and throw tantrums when decisions go against them. Of course I don't know them personally, but there is a distinct lack of egotism.
6) There are several under-appreciated players. No one seems to have realised that Huddlestone is without doubt the best player of long balls in the whole world. A drastic statement I think you'll agree, but hear me out. There are better passers - Xabi, Alonso, Iniesta, Fabregas etc. - but none of them could hit this. I hate the phrase but describing him as the team's "quarterback" is a pretty good description. His ability to predict an attacker's run and drive a ball with frankly unbelievable accuracy is astonishing; even more astonishing is that hardly anyone has picked up on this. Perhaps it's because he has been lumbered with a (fair) slow and cumbersome tag, but in the last year he has become an excellent shield for the back-four and a solid base from which to launch attacks. Liverpool were foolish not to place a bid when Alonso left, he would have filled the void more ably than nearly anyone.
Gomes is another under-appreciated gem. Just like Spurs itself, he makes just enough errors for the wider football-watching public to think he's crap, when in actual fact at his best he's in the top three in the league. I think it's fair to say his run of appalling form from the tail-end of the Juande Ramos era and the first few months of Redknapp's managership and the reputation that came with it has benefited both him and the club. No bids have come in that could unsettle him, and no one wants to buy him. His game isn't perfect but we wouldn't have won a place in Europe without his saves against Arsenal and Chelsea.
7) Gareth Bale. Holy Hell, this guy is amazing. No other player has generated so many column inches based purely on his footballing ability since, well, no one that I can remember - not even Ronaldo was hyped to this extent. The Fourth Estate has been singing his praises from the rooftops. His playing style is very similar to Ronaldo's, but whereas CR7 was critisised for going missing during big games, the opposite is true for Bale. He tends to falter against your lower-ranked teams but steps up and humbles the big boys. I've already mentioned consecutive defeats of Arsenal and Chelsea, but he's done it to Inter in spectacular fashion, Arsenal again, and several others that escape me for the time being.
1) We don't do boring. Thanks to our habit of buying excellent attackers (Berbatov (he's gone but for the purpose for this blog he counts), Defoe, Pavlyuchenko, Bale, Crouch etc. etc. etc.) and good but eternally injured defenders (King, Woodgate) we concede a lot and score even more. Things have calmed down a little bit compared with 2007/8 where 4-4 draws were not uncommon - Arsenal Villa and Chelsea spring to mind - but we just don't do bore-draws. It's not easy on the nerves but it's great fun at the end of the day. 4-4 is always more fun than 1-0.
2) We're a thoroughly English club (relatively speaking). Daniel Levy is one of the few English chairmen in the Premier League, and certainly the richest of the lot. Not only is he liberal with his cash, but he also runs the club like a business, which, while it may sound dry, means we have among the best financial structure in the league. There are no £400m pound debts here. Furthermore, he's a very smart man: the £8m capture of Rafael Van Der Vaart was a stunning piece of business: the man is superb. Our team is also far more English (or British at least) than perhaps any other club in the top division. Unencumbered by injuries, our first team would include 8 British players (King, Woodgate/Dawson, Hutton, Lennon, Huddlestone, Bale, Crouch, Defoe), which is none too shabby.
3) Defeat makes victory all the sweeter. There are few other clubs that can say they have lost to Wigan and Bolton either side of thrashing Inter Milan (or something similar, obviously). Losing is annoying but it keeps our feet on the ground. Whilst we continue to slip up the club and its fans won't gain the arrogant sense of entitlement that others do (ahem, Arsenal and United), and won't sack the manager if even just a few such slip ups occur (ahem, Man City and Chelsea).
4) Heroes emerge from the unlikeliest places. In dire moments a strangely large number of players will step their game up and do something unexpected. Look to Alan Hutton, a largely ignored player, against Stoke (I think) a few weeks back where he scored one and won a penalty; Danny Rose scoring an absolute pearler against Arsenal in one of the crucial final few league matches of the season that helped secure a Champions League berth; Gareth Bale coming from almost nowhere to be the hottest property in Europe; a rare Huddlestone howitzer: there really are a lot of them.
5) We don't seem to have any twats at the club. 'Arry may occasionally show questionable morals, but on the other hand he is refreshingly candid and bullshit free. There are no Drogba or Ronaldo characters who dive at any opportunity and throw tantrums when decisions go against them. Of course I don't know them personally, but there is a distinct lack of egotism.
6) There are several under-appreciated players. No one seems to have realised that Huddlestone is without doubt the best player of long balls in the whole world. A drastic statement I think you'll agree, but hear me out. There are better passers - Xabi, Alonso, Iniesta, Fabregas etc. - but none of them could hit this. I hate the phrase but describing him as the team's "quarterback" is a pretty good description. His ability to predict an attacker's run and drive a ball with frankly unbelievable accuracy is astonishing; even more astonishing is that hardly anyone has picked up on this. Perhaps it's because he has been lumbered with a (fair) slow and cumbersome tag, but in the last year he has become an excellent shield for the back-four and a solid base from which to launch attacks. Liverpool were foolish not to place a bid when Alonso left, he would have filled the void more ably than nearly anyone.
Gomes is another under-appreciated gem. Just like Spurs itself, he makes just enough errors for the wider football-watching public to think he's crap, when in actual fact at his best he's in the top three in the league. I think it's fair to say his run of appalling form from the tail-end of the Juande Ramos era and the first few months of Redknapp's managership and the reputation that came with it has benefited both him and the club. No bids have come in that could unsettle him, and no one wants to buy him. His game isn't perfect but we wouldn't have won a place in Europe without his saves against Arsenal and Chelsea.
7) Gareth Bale. Holy Hell, this guy is amazing. No other player has generated so many column inches based purely on his footballing ability since, well, no one that I can remember - not even Ronaldo was hyped to this extent. The Fourth Estate has been singing his praises from the rooftops. His playing style is very similar to Ronaldo's, but whereas CR7 was critisised for going missing during big games, the opposite is true for Bale. He tends to falter against your lower-ranked teams but steps up and humbles the big boys. I've already mentioned consecutive defeats of Arsenal and Chelsea, but he's done it to Inter in spectacular fashion, Arsenal again, and several others that escape me for the time being.
Sunday 14 November 2010
Student Protest pondering
I was at the student protest in London this past Wednesday. It was not only did it stir up some passion within me about education, but it was also a brilliantly fun day, despite the ludicrous amount of time it took to get back to Southampton.
Talking to other students, reading journalism and getting into squabbles on the Guardian's comment sections has been revealing, and even though I was right there at the foot of 30 Millbank I wasn't fully convinced that the raise in tuition fees was entirely unjustified - yes, people should have the right to be able to study what they want regardless of cost, but on the other hand cuts have to happen, and no one seems to be able to offer any other valid suggestions.
However, something crossed my mind (or at least I think so; it might have been someone else's point) which is this: the tuition fee rise is a result of the recession, the government needs a quick buck so let's make the students pay. Fair? Maybe, but not the point. The thing is, we are not paying cash up front, but recieving loans. Degrees take a minimum of three years, combined with the fact that it won't affect anyone until the 2012 batch, means that that the government won't be seeing any return until 2015. That's not even taking into account that a graduate has to be earning more than £21k p.a. before it gets payed back, and even then it will only be a trickle. I can't see how this will help the UK emerge from the recession; as a long-term investment I would imagine it is financially sound (presuming the number of students remain the same), but in the short-term it seems it would have a negative impact on the economy.
Moreover, the loans themselves come from the government so in between now and 2015 the university system will be an even greater financial burden than it already is. Perhaps I'm missing something here - this point seems too obvious to have been overlooked by messrs Osbourne and Cable - but I can't see it. Enlighten me in the comments.
P.S. Anybody reading this that hasn't been to a large-scale protest before, I highly recommend it, even if you don't have any particular allegiance to a cause. It's so much fun, and something of an eye-opener - seeing 50'000 people getting fired up made me realise that things actually do matter, and it's worth fighting for the people that are getting hit the worst.
Talking to other students, reading journalism and getting into squabbles on the Guardian's comment sections has been revealing, and even though I was right there at the foot of 30 Millbank I wasn't fully convinced that the raise in tuition fees was entirely unjustified - yes, people should have the right to be able to study what they want regardless of cost, but on the other hand cuts have to happen, and no one seems to be able to offer any other valid suggestions.
However, something crossed my mind (or at least I think so; it might have been someone else's point) which is this: the tuition fee rise is a result of the recession, the government needs a quick buck so let's make the students pay. Fair? Maybe, but not the point. The thing is, we are not paying cash up front, but recieving loans. Degrees take a minimum of three years, combined with the fact that it won't affect anyone until the 2012 batch, means that that the government won't be seeing any return until 2015. That's not even taking into account that a graduate has to be earning more than £21k p.a. before it gets payed back, and even then it will only be a trickle. I can't see how this will help the UK emerge from the recession; as a long-term investment I would imagine it is financially sound (presuming the number of students remain the same), but in the short-term it seems it would have a negative impact on the economy.
Moreover, the loans themselves come from the government so in between now and 2015 the university system will be an even greater financial burden than it already is. Perhaps I'm missing something here - this point seems too obvious to have been overlooked by messrs Osbourne and Cable - but I can't see it. Enlighten me in the comments.
P.S. Anybody reading this that hasn't been to a large-scale protest before, I highly recommend it, even if you don't have any particular allegiance to a cause. It's so much fun, and something of an eye-opener - seeing 50'000 people getting fired up made me realise that things actually do matter, and it's worth fighting for the people that are getting hit the worst.
Saturday 13 November 2010
A Critical Analysis of 'Eh Marine!'
As part and parcel with my new Film & English degree, I've been exposed to a lot of great films in the past few weeks - we're talking Casablanca, Rear Window and Singin' In The Rain - but one stand head and shoulders above the rest. What's amazing about this film is the sheer amount of brilliance encapsulated within just six short seconds. You'll laugh, you'll cry (with laughter), you'll press replay umpteen times. What is this film? It is, of course, Eh Marine!
Eh Marine! exhibits some deceptively complex mise-en-scene. Notice the stark contrast of our two protagonists; one so manic and energetic - undoubtedly a parody the gurning and goofy Cosmo Brown - and the other so unsuspecting, so mundane. Caliboss99 is clearly a skilful manipulator of his audience. We automatically favour our anti-hero over Marine: he looks like a guy that really knows how to party...check out that killer jiggle/head-wobble combination and tell me he wouldn't give Andrew WK a run for his money in the party stakes. Marine is such a drab character, we relish her getting one smartly upside the head. Her clothes: drab; her expression: dull; her repsonse: a grunt - everything about her is asking for a whipping.
It's all about context though, really. What causes the bouncy guy to strike down upon her with great vengeance (though not so much furious anger)? Why is he so bouncy? How did he get that slap so damn right? As for the latter, I would suggest it lies in the follow-through: that was a proper pimp-slap and make no mistake. The guy clearly has experience; p'raps Marine's a whore and she's been skimming some hoe money off the top. What better way to punish a girl than by brutally smacking her on camera? Don't answer that question.
Eh Marine! exhibits some deceptively complex mise-en-scene. Notice the stark contrast of our two protagonists; one so manic and energetic - undoubtedly a parody the gurning and goofy Cosmo Brown - and the other so unsuspecting, so mundane. Caliboss99 is clearly a skilful manipulator of his audience. We automatically favour our anti-hero over Marine: he looks like a guy that really knows how to party...check out that killer jiggle/head-wobble combination and tell me he wouldn't give Andrew WK a run for his money in the party stakes. Marine is such a drab character, we relish her getting one smartly upside the head. Her clothes: drab; her expression: dull; her repsonse: a grunt - everything about her is asking for a whipping.
It's all about context though, really. What causes the bouncy guy to strike down upon her with great vengeance (though not so much furious anger)? Why is he so bouncy? How did he get that slap so damn right? As for the latter, I would suggest it lies in the follow-through: that was a proper pimp-slap and make no mistake. The guy clearly has experience; p'raps Marine's a whore and she's been skimming some hoe money off the top. What better way to punish a girl than by brutally smacking her on camera? Don't answer that question.
Wednesday 13 October 2010
Jamie Oliver
You may remember back in 2005 Jamie Oliver tackled the awful school meals served to our nations primary school children, epitomised by the now infamous Turkey Twizzlers. It made great television: the aim was laudable but the obstacles considerable, but by the end he had Greenwich schools eating well.
Now he's back, but this time in America, specifically Huntington, the fattest town in the fattest state in the fattest nation on Earth. As a challenge it's a whole new kettle of fish. Also, it's even more entertaining than before. Despite being what would probably be called a reality show, Jamie's American Food Revolution has all the ingredients of a great drama. Jamie is undoubtedly the underdog, faced with an array of set-in-their-way adversaries, from grizzled "cook" Alice, the American school culinary system, the kids' comfort zones and best of all, radio DJ Rod the Dawg.
Rod is a brilliant antagonist: he is immediately unrelentingly opposed to anything Jamie says or does, he's thick, regressive and agressive. 'I don't want to go around eating lettuce all day' neatly summed up his, and the wider American population's, sentiments.
Oliver gets a lot of stick from (stupid) people for being rich and egotistical, but frankly anyone that continues to hold this belief after watching not just this show, but all his other shows too, is a moron. That Jamie is tackling a serious problem only makes it more compelling, and also allows us to forgive his often cringeworthy adopted Americanisms. Why he feels he has to call everyone 'brother' I don't know, in fact it's a little bit creepy.
Now he's back, but this time in America, specifically Huntington, the fattest town in the fattest state in the fattest nation on Earth. As a challenge it's a whole new kettle of fish. Also, it's even more entertaining than before. Despite being what would probably be called a reality show, Jamie's American Food Revolution has all the ingredients of a great drama. Jamie is undoubtedly the underdog, faced with an array of set-in-their-way adversaries, from grizzled "cook" Alice, the American school culinary system, the kids' comfort zones and best of all, radio DJ Rod the Dawg.
Rod is a brilliant antagonist: he is immediately unrelentingly opposed to anything Jamie says or does, he's thick, regressive and agressive. 'I don't want to go around eating lettuce all day' neatly summed up his, and the wider American population's, sentiments.
Oliver gets a lot of stick from (stupid) people for being rich and egotistical, but frankly anyone that continues to hold this belief after watching not just this show, but all his other shows too, is a moron. That Jamie is tackling a serious problem only makes it more compelling, and also allows us to forgive his often cringeworthy adopted Americanisms. Why he feels he has to call everyone 'brother' I don't know, in fact it's a little bit creepy.
Thursday 23 September 2010
ONE HUNDRED HITS
IMPORTANT EDIT: I completely misunderstood the hit-counter: the one I was looking at was in fact profile views, a very different beast to blog views. Rather than a poxy 100 views, I actually have 1600+, which I'm rather chuffed about. There's a really neat feature that breaks down page views in more or less every way you can think of, and while I won't go into much detail - I don't have enough time and I can't imagine it interests anyone but me - I'll still put a few of the most noteworthy down.
My most popular blog post by far is the castle blog, with 450 or so, a fair way ahead of number 2, my Everything Everything review (that said, the Everything Everything review is much younger). It's nice that the two that I consider to be my strongest have garnered the most attention.
The UK and US are exactly tied for most views at 484.
Erm, that's pretty much it. Ignore everything hereafter.
YES!
Twenty months after my first blog post, way back in February 2009, I have hit the big 100 blog views. That's one every six days, how amazing!
Okay, that is pretty pathetic. I herby declare I will embark upon an extensive campaign of blog-plugging, i.e. linking to it in all my online profiles. Let's aim for 200 by this time next year.
Blog Breakdown:
Duration: 20 months
Posts: 54
Monthly Average: 2.7 posts
Monthly High: June 2010, 9 posts
Monthly Low: April May 2009, 0 posts; August 2009, 1 post.
By genre:
Music: 18 posts
Sport: 13 posts
Film: 5 posts
Other stuff: the rest
Trends: Over the course of my blog random pieces about random things have become far more scarce, with the focus now being on music, sport or film. They are also longer and more coherent. My best one? The most fun to write was the first one about the Tour de France, but looking back on it now my writing is pretty poor. In that case, the recent review of Man Alive must be the best, and is actually the only review on the reasonably highly-trafficked SputnikMusic.
Other thoughts: Sport is really easy to write about. Weighty issues are far harder. I should write about literature more.
My most popular blog post by far is the castle blog, with 450 or so, a fair way ahead of number 2, my Everything Everything review (that said, the Everything Everything review is much younger). It's nice that the two that I consider to be my strongest have garnered the most attention.
The UK and US are exactly tied for most views at 484.
Erm, that's pretty much it. Ignore everything hereafter.
By genre:
Music: 18 posts
Sport: 13 posts
Film: 5 posts
Other stuff: the rest
Trends: Over the course of my blog random pieces about random things have become far more scarce, with the focus now being on music, sport or film. They are also longer and more coherent. My best one? The most fun to write was the first one about the Tour de France, but looking back on it now my writing is pretty poor. In that case, the recent review of Man Alive must be the best, and is actually the only review on the reasonably highly-trafficked SputnikMusic.
Other thoughts: Sport is really easy to write about. Weighty issues are far harder. I should write about literature more.
Sunday 19 September 2010
The Long-Lost Art of the Guitar Solo
In a time now sadly passed, any rock act worth its salt had a guitarist with some serious chops. We're talking Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, Deep Purple, AC/DC - all bands with great guitarists that knew the difference between tasteful licks and self-indulgence, who didn't rely on pure speed in their solos, as many guitarists do nowadays. (Why did I accidentally put so many food-related words in those two sentences? I just ate an' everything). But barring the few survivors from those better times (Iron Maiden, Mark Knopfler) there has been nothing in the past ten years with anything to the aforementioned guitar Gods, except The Darkness.
Despite scooping four Brit awards in 2004, The Darkness were a band that few people could take seriously. They saw the spandex, the castrato, the high-camp, and for a glorious few month everybody embraced rock, and make no mistake, Permission To Land is rock at its best. Not since Back In Black had a band wielded distortion as capably as Justin Hawkins and brother Dan. But then people began to feel a bit guilty about it all. Did we really like this lot? They are sooo unfashionable! The Darkness were swept under the carpet, and the (admittedly inferior) follow-up album, One Way Ticket To Hell sold poorly in comparision, and unlike other artists and bands that rose to prominence in the early 00s, such as the Libertines and Franz Ferdinand, The Darkness spawned no immitators. They were abandoned and left to plow their own lonely furrow until they disbanded.
I think there is also a case to be made for the guitar solo being replaced by a rap break. In the 70s and 80s many pop acts featured (bad) guitar solos, just because it was the done thing: verse chorus verse solo verse outro. Nowadays a good percentage of pop releases have some sort of rap breakdown, but there are musical and not juststructural similarites. Both are largely self-indulgent, not brilliantly skillful and often incongruous to the style of the song. Now while I don't particularly miss the fashion for songs with bad solos, it is indicative of the shift away from the use of electric guitars in mainstream music.
Okay, I'm not entirely telling the truth when I say there has been no other great guitar work. Early Muse albums dripped with Matt Bellamy's signature guitar playing, though it was less soloing and more excellent rhythm playing. Then there are the metal bands, though despite being a genre that relies entirely on the guitar, bands have tended to descend into the drop D chug of, say, Meshuggah or the aimless tragic wankery of Dream Theater. The only one that springs to mind is Opeth, and while metal isn't my forte, I know enough about it to make sweeping statements that disregard the whole genre of metal. Er...
Shredding, the art of playing a stupid amount of notes in as short a space as possible, has become the dominant form of the guitar solo. It is crap. Shredding is the guitar equivalent of X Factor melismatic, gymnastic singing that people seem to think is good nowadays. It might seem a strange comparison, but it holds water. Take Alexandra Burke. She has a good voice: it's powerful and she can hit notes accurately, but has absolutely no concept of melody. Instead of finding a note and sticking with it she blasts up and down the scales, leaving you unsure as to what tune she is supposed to be singing. This approach exists on the guitar also, for instance wank-King Steve Vai and his equally bad mentor Joe Satriani. Look them up on YouTube and it won't take long to see what I mean. When Vai tries to give his playing some space à la Pink Floyd, it just sounds dreadful: see For The Love Of God. Put it this way: I can shred. Not very well, but once you know a few scales, and have quick fingers it doesn't take much imagination to play like these guys. However writing solos like the two in Comfortably Numb, both of which are fairly easy to play, takes more than just speed.
Is good guitar playing a thing of the past? Are the likes of the Hawkins brothers, Tom Morello of RATM and Absolution era Muse the last of the old guard? I really hope not.
EDIT: Just looked up For The Love Of God on Youtube and the first video is a perfect example of what I'm talking. Fret-wankage made literal at 4:30, so bad.
Despite scooping four Brit awards in 2004, The Darkness were a band that few people could take seriously. They saw the spandex, the castrato, the high-camp, and for a glorious few month everybody embraced rock, and make no mistake, Permission To Land is rock at its best. Not since Back In Black had a band wielded distortion as capably as Justin Hawkins and brother Dan. But then people began to feel a bit guilty about it all. Did we really like this lot? They are sooo unfashionable! The Darkness were swept under the carpet, and the (admittedly inferior) follow-up album, One Way Ticket To Hell sold poorly in comparision, and unlike other artists and bands that rose to prominence in the early 00s, such as the Libertines and Franz Ferdinand, The Darkness spawned no immitators. They were abandoned and left to plow their own lonely furrow until they disbanded.
I think there is also a case to be made for the guitar solo being replaced by a rap break. In the 70s and 80s many pop acts featured (bad) guitar solos, just because it was the done thing: verse chorus verse solo verse outro. Nowadays a good percentage of pop releases have some sort of rap breakdown, but there are musical and not juststructural similarites. Both are largely self-indulgent, not brilliantly skillful and often incongruous to the style of the song. Now while I don't particularly miss the fashion for songs with bad solos, it is indicative of the shift away from the use of electric guitars in mainstream music.
Okay, I'm not entirely telling the truth when I say there has been no other great guitar work. Early Muse albums dripped with Matt Bellamy's signature guitar playing, though it was less soloing and more excellent rhythm playing. Then there are the metal bands, though despite being a genre that relies entirely on the guitar, bands have tended to descend into the drop D chug of, say, Meshuggah or the aimless tragic wankery of Dream Theater. The only one that springs to mind is Opeth, and while metal isn't my forte, I know enough about it to make sweeping statements that disregard the whole genre of metal. Er...
Shredding, the art of playing a stupid amount of notes in as short a space as possible, has become the dominant form of the guitar solo. It is crap. Shredding is the guitar equivalent of X Factor melismatic, gymnastic singing that people seem to think is good nowadays. It might seem a strange comparison, but it holds water. Take Alexandra Burke. She has a good voice: it's powerful and she can hit notes accurately, but has absolutely no concept of melody. Instead of finding a note and sticking with it she blasts up and down the scales, leaving you unsure as to what tune she is supposed to be singing. This approach exists on the guitar also, for instance wank-King Steve Vai and his equally bad mentor Joe Satriani. Look them up on YouTube and it won't take long to see what I mean. When Vai tries to give his playing some space à la Pink Floyd, it just sounds dreadful: see For The Love Of God. Put it this way: I can shred. Not very well, but once you know a few scales, and have quick fingers it doesn't take much imagination to play like these guys. However writing solos like the two in Comfortably Numb, both of which are fairly easy to play, takes more than just speed.
Is good guitar playing a thing of the past? Are the likes of the Hawkins brothers, Tom Morello of RATM and Absolution era Muse the last of the old guard? I really hope not.
EDIT: Just looked up For The Love Of God on Youtube and the first video is a perfect example of what I'm talking. Fret-wankage made literal at 4:30, so bad.
Friday 3 September 2010
Everything Everything - Man Alive
After watching from afar for far too long, I joined SputnikMusic, a music reviews site where users can post their own reviews. I blogged about Everything Everything a few months ago, and their debut album is now out, and it's pretty decent. Find my review here.
Like a comic who chains complex pun after complex pun, leaving the brain scrambling to catch up, so goes Man Alive, the debut album from Everything Everything. It is an album unlike anything you've ever heard before, a true original, and at times, to borrow a lyric from Two For Nero, will leave you as "giddy as a baby in a centrifuge". What sets Everything Everything apart from the crowd is Jonathan Higgins' sugary falsetto: he delivers frequently baffling lines, "And I wanna know what happened to your boyfriend because he was looking at me like 'Whoah!'" at speed with constant octave-leaps. It can be quite bewildering.
Full disclosure: if the lyrics actually mean anything coherent it is beyond me. That isn't to say they are bad, far from it, in fact as little sense as they make Higgins has the power of an arresting turn of phrase, juxtaposing 1980s videogame nostalgia, "It's like Sega never died" with echoes of Nazi Germany, "You goosestep around the garden" in Two For Nero. He also on occasion plays with verbal jokes; decide for yourself whether the refrain in album highlight Suffraggette Suffraggette scans "Who's gonna sit on your fence", or "Who's gonna sit on your face".
The vocal hi-jinx does begin to grate by the start of Come Alive Diana. It's one falsetto-leap too far and feels like an attempt to inject some life into an otherwise stale song. Indeed, the last four songs are largely forgettable affairs, with the exception of NASA Is On Your Side, showing refreshing restrain in a slow-burning build-up over solemn keys, before peaking with an exultant chorus.
The focus of this review has been thus-far on the vocals, but there is some really excellent musicianship on display. Guitarist Alex Robertshow is reminiscent of Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood: it's unobtrusive, varied and deft, and also provides one of Man Alive's highpoints. From nowhere Suffraggette Suffragette is illuminated by a dirty great slab of driving distortion, an isolated moment of untempered rawk. It's a fabulous addition, but it's something of a double-edged sword: the other tracks are diminished ever so slightly. Their highly polished arty and intelligent exteriors, particularly Final Form and the closing duo of Tin (The Manhole) and Weights, have their lack of fire and warmth exaggerated.
That said, with such boundless invention it was always likely that Everything Everything would take a few mis-steps, but successes outweigh weaknesses in this superb first effort.
7/10
Like a comic who chains complex pun after complex pun, leaving the brain scrambling to catch up, so goes Man Alive, the debut album from Everything Everything. It is an album unlike anything you've ever heard before, a true original, and at times, to borrow a lyric from Two For Nero, will leave you as "giddy as a baby in a centrifuge". What sets Everything Everything apart from the crowd is Jonathan Higgins' sugary falsetto: he delivers frequently baffling lines, "And I wanna know what happened to your boyfriend because he was looking at me like 'Whoah!'" at speed with constant octave-leaps. It can be quite bewildering.
Full disclosure: if the lyrics actually mean anything coherent it is beyond me. That isn't to say they are bad, far from it, in fact as little sense as they make Higgins has the power of an arresting turn of phrase, juxtaposing 1980s videogame nostalgia, "It's like Sega never died" with echoes of Nazi Germany, "You goosestep around the garden" in Two For Nero. He also on occasion plays with verbal jokes; decide for yourself whether the refrain in album highlight Suffraggette Suffraggette scans "Who's gonna sit on your fence", or "Who's gonna sit on your face".
The vocal hi-jinx does begin to grate by the start of Come Alive Diana. It's one falsetto-leap too far and feels like an attempt to inject some life into an otherwise stale song. Indeed, the last four songs are largely forgettable affairs, with the exception of NASA Is On Your Side, showing refreshing restrain in a slow-burning build-up over solemn keys, before peaking with an exultant chorus.
The focus of this review has been thus-far on the vocals, but there is some really excellent musicianship on display. Guitarist Alex Robertshow is reminiscent of Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood: it's unobtrusive, varied and deft, and also provides one of Man Alive's highpoints. From nowhere Suffraggette Suffragette is illuminated by a dirty great slab of driving distortion, an isolated moment of untempered rawk. It's a fabulous addition, but it's something of a double-edged sword: the other tracks are diminished ever so slightly. Their highly polished arty and intelligent exteriors, particularly Final Form and the closing duo of Tin (The Manhole) and Weights, have their lack of fire and warmth exaggerated.
That said, with such boundless invention it was always likely that Everything Everything would take a few mis-steps, but successes outweigh weaknesses in this superb first effort.
7/10
Tuesday 24 August 2010
Psychology Experiments and Facebook
Earlier today I came across the excellent website http://youarenotsosmart.com, which de-bunks a whole range of mental processes and thoughts that the majority of us hold. Conditioning is the main thrust of the articles; for the unitiated all animals, human or otherwise, can be trained to follow certain thought-paths by using rewards to strengthen mental connections between actions and consequences. Perhaps the most famous example is Pavlov and his dogs: after ringing a bell and giving them food the dogs began to associate the bell with food, and as a result Pavlov was able to make the dogs salivate whenever they heard the bell, whether food was given to them or not.
However, that is not the experiment I am most interested in. In the twentieth century a famous - possibly the most famous - psychologist was a man called Skinner, who became famous for what were later known as Skinner's Boxes, in which he conducted various experiments on animals, not to mention his own daughter. He trained mice to push a lever, which resulted in food from a chute.
The mice cottoned-on pretty quickly to this, so Skinner gradually changed the frequency of the food, but the mice were able to understand what changes had occured. Food every third push was achieved, then up to fourty and sixty pushes; if the mice knew there would be a reward they would keep pushing. Skinner then set the food to be delivered at random intervals, resulting in the mice pushing it ceaselessly until they were rewarded by their efforts with food.
Skinner also tried to work out how long the mice would take to stop pushing the lever after the food-supply had been cut off. The mice with regular food deliveries realised fairly quickly, but the mice with random distributions of food took much longer to cease with the lever-pushing.
I have come to realise that Facebook has had this effect over me. In my case, notifications are the food equivalent. I check for them several times daily, and far more often than not I am not rewarded. I do, however, get notifications occasionally, and it is this that keeps me coming back. The distribution of notifications is effectively random; my friends post statuses and comments whenver they want with no thought for me personally. I know I will get a notification eventually, just as the mice knew they would get food, so I continue to check Facebook, despite the fact that usually there is nothing of interest.
I wonder if these studies passed through the mind of Mark Zuckerberg and the other feller as they were designing Facebook. My knowledge of psychology is only a day old, but I'm fairly sure that my conclusions are correct.
However, that is not the experiment I am most interested in. In the twentieth century a famous - possibly the most famous - psychologist was a man called Skinner, who became famous for what were later known as Skinner's Boxes, in which he conducted various experiments on animals, not to mention his own daughter. He trained mice to push a lever, which resulted in food from a chute.
The mice cottoned-on pretty quickly to this, so Skinner gradually changed the frequency of the food, but the mice were able to understand what changes had occured. Food every third push was achieved, then up to fourty and sixty pushes; if the mice knew there would be a reward they would keep pushing. Skinner then set the food to be delivered at random intervals, resulting in the mice pushing it ceaselessly until they were rewarded by their efforts with food.
Skinner also tried to work out how long the mice would take to stop pushing the lever after the food-supply had been cut off. The mice with regular food deliveries realised fairly quickly, but the mice with random distributions of food took much longer to cease with the lever-pushing.
I have come to realise that Facebook has had this effect over me. In my case, notifications are the food equivalent. I check for them several times daily, and far more often than not I am not rewarded. I do, however, get notifications occasionally, and it is this that keeps me coming back. The distribution of notifications is effectively random; my friends post statuses and comments whenver they want with no thought for me personally. I know I will get a notification eventually, just as the mice knew they would get food, so I continue to check Facebook, despite the fact that usually there is nothing of interest.
I wonder if these studies passed through the mind of Mark Zuckerberg and the other feller as they were designing Facebook. My knowledge of psychology is only a day old, but I'm fairly sure that my conclusions are correct.
***
Another web-related phenomena within the established fields of psychology that I think applies to me is the theory of the 'extinction burst'. The extinction burst occurs when one tries to quit cold-turkey on a long-standing habit, be it smoking, daily schedule, or in my case, Internet use. The theory follows thus: once we quit said habit our need for it diminishes steadily, until a point not long after the initial quit-date, a few days or so. At this point our need for the vice in question abruptly spikes drastically in our body's attempt to keep hold it. Think of it like death throes, a last cry for help. The effect causes millions of people world-wide to resort to their previous behaviour, and unless you see it coming it is very hard to overcome.
At the start of this year I made a concerted effort to cut-down on my internet use. The time I wasted on the Internet could have been spent doing things far more constructive and engaging: studying, reading, playing the guitar etc. I had some success, but at some point I reverted to my old ways: the questionable lure of Facebook, the Guardian and IGN proved too strong. (In fact, my previous hypothesis could be applied to the latter two; I browse both daily hoping for updates, though with better results than Facebook.) Whether it was the combination of three conditionings (?) or the extinction burst, or both, that drew me back I am not sure, but here I am, writing a blog that no one reads.
Wednesday 18 August 2010
The Evolution of Robot Wars
Holidays, when devoid of sporting showcases, are apparently not conducive to blogging inspiration. However, I need to write about something, so why not the third most entertaining show on television at the moment: Robot Wars. (fyi, Sherlock and Shooting Stars are first and second respectively.)
The compeitors are frequently cringe inducing (Plunderbird boys - you are not funny, get lost), as is Craig Charles' leery demeanour, but the fun in seeing pathetic lumps of metal getting shredded, crushed and flipped by a core of five or six really decent machines remains undimmed.
Over the five series natural selection has seen four design staples rise to the top of the pack, each with a robot of excellent design as the epitome of that class. These are: Chaos 2, Hypnodisc, Razer and Tornado, armed with a flipper, scorpion claw, fly-wheel and raw pushing-power respectively. These four are in essence unbeatable by the vast majority of the competition, barring mechanical defects.
Chaos 2 was the first to have a really effective flipper, pioneered originally by Cassius. The first time Cassius jack-knifed after being overturned was a watershed moment in the history of Robot Wars; not only could it flip other robots but it was also impervious to being itselt flipped. Any robot with serious ambitions would need to be able to self right, and while the flipper was not the only means of self-righting - interesting scrimechs can been seen on the aforementioned Hypno-Disc and Razer - it remains the original and most effective. The third series was dominated by Chaos 2, which perfected the flipper, which differed from Cassius in that it was forward facing active flip rather than a push.
Tornado was essentially a response to the flipper; scrimechs are great and look good, but why not make the robot invertible? It was by no means the most attractive robot, with the simple yet effective tactic of relentless bulldozing, but it worked, defeating Chaos 2 at least twice through sheer bloody-mindedness. It had very few weaknesses: unflipable, robust and had unmatched pushing-power thanks to two engines and rubber tread. There was one robot that could beat it, and beat it easily, however.
Razer was unquestionably the most aesthetically arresting while being the most destructive. The hydraulic beak immoblilised more robots than any other, and for a long time it only ever lost through electical or mechanical issues. Had it not beached itself in the second round of the heats in the third series vs Aggrobot, Chaos 2 may well have finished as runner-up. As it happened, Razer and Chaos 2 only met several years later, and Razer quickly punctured the CO2 cannister of Chaos, causing it to commit the first ever Robot Wars suicide by diving arse-first into the pit. It wasn't invincible, though. Pussycat defeated it twice, once when Razer got stuck on the wall and a second time when it popped a wheel off. Later, Tornado fixed a protective cage around itself to specifically neutralise the claw of Razer; Razer could do nothing and lost to a judges' decision. It was within the rules, but hardly fair play.
Lastly we come to Hypnodisc. It has a poor record against these other three, but when it comes to fucking shit up, Hypnodisc is unparalleled. The first victim, Robogeddon, faced the most complete destruction of any robot, ever. The bodywork was gone, the insides ripped out, the battery destroyed...there was nothing left. Its design is simple: a disc spins at only a reasonably fast speed, but the sheer size of it means the two lumps are going very quickly indeed. It is in essence a bludgeoning device as opposed to the standard slicing circular saw.
The compeitors are frequently cringe inducing (Plunderbird boys - you are not funny, get lost), as is Craig Charles' leery demeanour, but the fun in seeing pathetic lumps of metal getting shredded, crushed and flipped by a core of five or six really decent machines remains undimmed.
Over the five series natural selection has seen four design staples rise to the top of the pack, each with a robot of excellent design as the epitome of that class. These are: Chaos 2, Hypnodisc, Razer and Tornado, armed with a flipper, scorpion claw, fly-wheel and raw pushing-power respectively. These four are in essence unbeatable by the vast majority of the competition, barring mechanical defects.
Chaos 2 was the first to have a really effective flipper, pioneered originally by Cassius. The first time Cassius jack-knifed after being overturned was a watershed moment in the history of Robot Wars; not only could it flip other robots but it was also impervious to being itselt flipped. Any robot with serious ambitions would need to be able to self right, and while the flipper was not the only means of self-righting - interesting scrimechs can been seen on the aforementioned Hypno-Disc and Razer - it remains the original and most effective. The third series was dominated by Chaos 2, which perfected the flipper, which differed from Cassius in that it was forward facing active flip rather than a push.
Tornado was essentially a response to the flipper; scrimechs are great and look good, but why not make the robot invertible? It was by no means the most attractive robot, with the simple yet effective tactic of relentless bulldozing, but it worked, defeating Chaos 2 at least twice through sheer bloody-mindedness. It had very few weaknesses: unflipable, robust and had unmatched pushing-power thanks to two engines and rubber tread. There was one robot that could beat it, and beat it easily, however.
Razer was unquestionably the most aesthetically arresting while being the most destructive. The hydraulic beak immoblilised more robots than any other, and for a long time it only ever lost through electical or mechanical issues. Had it not beached itself in the second round of the heats in the third series vs Aggrobot, Chaos 2 may well have finished as runner-up. As it happened, Razer and Chaos 2 only met several years later, and Razer quickly punctured the CO2 cannister of Chaos, causing it to commit the first ever Robot Wars suicide by diving arse-first into the pit. It wasn't invincible, though. Pussycat defeated it twice, once when Razer got stuck on the wall and a second time when it popped a wheel off. Later, Tornado fixed a protective cage around itself to specifically neutralise the claw of Razer; Razer could do nothing and lost to a judges' decision. It was within the rules, but hardly fair play.
Lastly we come to Hypnodisc. It has a poor record against these other three, but when it comes to fucking shit up, Hypnodisc is unparalleled. The first victim, Robogeddon, faced the most complete destruction of any robot, ever. The bodywork was gone, the insides ripped out, the battery destroyed...there was nothing left. Its design is simple: a disc spins at only a reasonably fast speed, but the sheer size of it means the two lumps are going very quickly indeed. It is in essence a bludgeoning device as opposed to the standard slicing circular saw.
Saturday 24 July 2010
39 Seconds
39 seconds: the timegap between Alberto Contador and Andy Schleck after the final competitive stage of the Tour de France. It's the second narrowest margin in history after the great LeMond/Fignon struggle in '89, but the significance of those 39 seconds is far greater than that.
Contador attacked on the Port de Bales earlier in the Tour following a freak mechanical problem on Andy Schleck, and gained - you guessed it - 39 seconds. It cannot be certain that Schleck's attack would have succeeded, in fact he lost time on the descent while pursuing Contador, but he would at least have finished at the same time, hypothetically preserving Schleck's 31 seconds lead.
Many predicted that the result at Bagnères-de-Luchon would decide the outcome of Tour, and how right they were. Had Contador refrained from attacking we could have seen a dead heat for the first time ever; I have absolutely no idea what protocol would be followed had that been the case. Enough has been said about Contador's decision to attack so I won't add anything other than retrospectively as a race-winning move it was justified, but also deprived us of a truly epic battle up the Col du Tourmalet.
The other surprise was how poorly Contador performed in the time-trial, finishing in the mid-30s, just 31 seconds ahead of the typically far weaker Schleck. When compared to last year's penultimate day time-trial - which Contador won ahead of Fabian Cancellara - a drastic collapse in physical power is evident. There is no chance of an accurate analysis of the reasons for this, but I suspect Contador was simply shattered after a Tour de France in which he was pushed all the way. Interestingly, Schleck actually lost less time over 50km than over the 10km prologue: 31s vs 42s.
So many ifs and buts! It's been engrossing, but hopefully 2011 will end in more satisfactory fashion.
PS Probably the last TdF blog until next year.
Contador attacked on the Port de Bales earlier in the Tour following a freak mechanical problem on Andy Schleck, and gained - you guessed it - 39 seconds. It cannot be certain that Schleck's attack would have succeeded, in fact he lost time on the descent while pursuing Contador, but he would at least have finished at the same time, hypothetically preserving Schleck's 31 seconds lead.
Many predicted that the result at Bagnères-de-Luchon would decide the outcome of Tour, and how right they were. Had Contador refrained from attacking we could have seen a dead heat for the first time ever; I have absolutely no idea what protocol would be followed had that been the case. Enough has been said about Contador's decision to attack so I won't add anything other than retrospectively as a race-winning move it was justified, but also deprived us of a truly epic battle up the Col du Tourmalet.
The other surprise was how poorly Contador performed in the time-trial, finishing in the mid-30s, just 31 seconds ahead of the typically far weaker Schleck. When compared to last year's penultimate day time-trial - which Contador won ahead of Fabian Cancellara - a drastic collapse in physical power is evident. There is no chance of an accurate analysis of the reasons for this, but I suspect Contador was simply shattered after a Tour de France in which he was pushed all the way. Interestingly, Schleck actually lost less time over 50km than over the 10km prologue: 31s vs 42s.
So many ifs and buts! It's been engrossing, but hopefully 2011 will end in more satisfactory fashion.
PS Probably the last TdF blog until next year.
Friday 23 July 2010
Everything Everything
It's only about twice a year that I hear a new band on the radio that makes me stop and listen on the back of artistic merit - think Florence last year and Band of Skulls earlier this - but it happened again yesterday. Everything Everything are a really bizarre-sounding band, with so many changes of direction within each song that it will leave you giddy. Because of this they have been slapped with the unfashionable lable of 'prog-rock', but there are few parallels with Pink Floyd, Genesis and Yes.
There's an altogether more tangible sense of joyful exuberance (writing that sentence I realised BMW have killed the word 'joy' for me). Everything Everything tread the fine line between the pretentiousness and over-indulgence seen in Genesis and Yes and genuinely intelligent music writing. The vocal harmonies are intricate but never less than poppy, though the frequent falsetto is beginning to grate slightly after listening to their first four tracks. Hopefully it will be reigned in slightly come the album release in late August this year.
These first four songs are on YouTube, and linked below. It's a close contest between Suffragette Suffragette and Photoshop Handsome for title of Best on Show, but the track heard on the radio - MY KZ UR BF (MyKeys, Your Boyfriend) isn't far off. Schoolin' is comfortably the worst of the bunch, though perversely has been released as the first official single. I expect big things from these boys, musically if perhaps not commercially.
Suffragette Suffragette
Photoshop Handsome
MY KZ UR BF
Schoolin'
There's an altogether more tangible sense of joyful exuberance (writing that sentence I realised BMW have killed the word 'joy' for me). Everything Everything tread the fine line between the pretentiousness and over-indulgence seen in Genesis and Yes and genuinely intelligent music writing. The vocal harmonies are intricate but never less than poppy, though the frequent falsetto is beginning to grate slightly after listening to their first four tracks. Hopefully it will be reigned in slightly come the album release in late August this year.
These first four songs are on YouTube, and linked below. It's a close contest between Suffragette Suffragette and Photoshop Handsome for title of Best on Show, but the track heard on the radio - MY KZ UR BF (MyKeys, Your Boyfriend) isn't far off. Schoolin' is comfortably the worst of the bunch, though perversely has been released as the first official single. I expect big things from these boys, musically if perhaps not commercially.
Suffragette Suffragette
Photoshop Handsome
MY KZ UR BF
Schoolin'
Thursday 22 July 2010
A Gulf In Class
On the fearsome slopes of the Col du Tourmalet Andy Schleck destroyed a coalition of the six subsequently placed rides, putting 1'45" into them. This was a break of astounding force; regular rotation of the poursouviants eases individual load considerably, yet Schleck powered away from big names such as Sanchez and Menchev into the thick fog.
However, the one man he failed to break was the very one he most wanted to: Alberto Contador. Albert the Accountant's eight second lead looks slender, but when his vastly superior time-trialling ability is taken into account it is obvious that Schleck needed to make up far more than eight seconds. Contador clung limpet-like to his competitors back wheel, conserving his energy, doing the minimum necessary to hold his position in both stage and GC. Intrestingly, then, that when Contador made his move in his usual devastating style Schleck was able to follow. Thwarted, Contador once more retreated to Schleck's back wheel, settling for negating his ever-weaker attacks.
The parallels with the famous duel between Jaques Anquetil and Raymond Poulidor on the Puy de Dôme are worth looking at. In both instances the second placed rider took the stage win - Poulidor in 1964. Both times the two riders had broken off the front of the peloton and were riding alone, but Anquetil arrogance exceeded Contadors: he wanted to beat his great rival despite having a similarly slender lead as Contadors. By the summit of the Puy de Dôme Anquetil was only fourteen seconds ahead. Anquetil's lead was extended to 55 seconds by the end of the penultimate stage's time-triall, and we could well see a repeat of that on Saturday.
The struggle up the Tourmalet was hugely engrossing, but at the same time it feels like we have been deprived of a direct fight for victory between these two great cyclists. Schleck gained ten seconds on the short climb to Morzine-Avoriaz; Contador wrestled ten seconds back up to Monde. Had Schleck's chain not inexplicably snagged immediately following his attack on the Port de Balès perhaps we could have seen it then, but alas Lady Luck intervened.
What we can be sure of is that next year's edition will be even closer. Last year Contador won by four minutes; this year it will be no more than two; next year, who knows? The route this year, despite its punishing difficulty, was brilliantly thought-out by Mr Prudhomme and will hopefully give him to confidence to try something equally mountaneous. We could have just seen the second stage of one of the great rivalries of sport, and Prudhomme would be a fool to resist allowing it to develop further.
However, the one man he failed to break was the very one he most wanted to: Alberto Contador. Albert the Accountant's eight second lead looks slender, but when his vastly superior time-trialling ability is taken into account it is obvious that Schleck needed to make up far more than eight seconds. Contador clung limpet-like to his competitors back wheel, conserving his energy, doing the minimum necessary to hold his position in both stage and GC. Intrestingly, then, that when Contador made his move in his usual devastating style Schleck was able to follow. Thwarted, Contador once more retreated to Schleck's back wheel, settling for negating his ever-weaker attacks.
The parallels with the famous duel between Jaques Anquetil and Raymond Poulidor on the Puy de Dôme are worth looking at. In both instances the second placed rider took the stage win - Poulidor in 1964. Both times the two riders had broken off the front of the peloton and were riding alone, but Anquetil arrogance exceeded Contadors: he wanted to beat his great rival despite having a similarly slender lead as Contadors. By the summit of the Puy de Dôme Anquetil was only fourteen seconds ahead. Anquetil's lead was extended to 55 seconds by the end of the penultimate stage's time-triall, and we could well see a repeat of that on Saturday.
The struggle up the Tourmalet was hugely engrossing, but at the same time it feels like we have been deprived of a direct fight for victory between these two great cyclists. Schleck gained ten seconds on the short climb to Morzine-Avoriaz; Contador wrestled ten seconds back up to Monde. Had Schleck's chain not inexplicably snagged immediately following his attack on the Port de Balès perhaps we could have seen it then, but alas Lady Luck intervened.
What we can be sure of is that next year's edition will be even closer. Last year Contador won by four minutes; this year it will be no more than two; next year, who knows? The route this year, despite its punishing difficulty, was brilliantly thought-out by Mr Prudhomme and will hopefully give him to confidence to try something equally mountaneous. We could have just seen the second stage of one of the great rivalries of sport, and Prudhomme would be a fool to resist allowing it to develop further.
Thursday 8 July 2010
Spain pass off boring as beautiful.
For all the intricate passing, the tiki-taka, the 'merry-go round', Spain are a very dull team to watch. They are beloved of footballing 'purists', but the reality is that Spain are a negative team. They drain the life out of the opposition with endless intricate yet impotent passing; it looks good, but it is certainly intended to prevent the opposition from playing, rather than out-attacking them.
I do not deny that Spain are a good team. They beat a superb Germany team that despatched England and Argentina with ease, but perversely they are not what we have comee to expect from Spain. They have but once scored more than one goal in a match, against Chile, which speaks volumes about their reluctance to commit. Starved of possession, opponents are forced to counter-attack which are broken up easily by an efficent Spanish back line. They have the quality to score, and they know it, biding their time until David Villa takes advantage and scores; they then revert to possession football, draining the life out of viewers as adeptly as they do their adversaries.
Spain will win the final on Sunday, probably 1-0, and it will be boring. The Netherlands will pour forward when they can, but bar a replication on Van Bronckhorst's blockbuster of a strike against Uruguay, they won't find a way through. The best team will win it, but they will lose a lot of admires along the way.
EDIT: Barney Ronay from the Guardian basically wrote this article, but better, so you may as well read this instead.
I do not deny that Spain are a good team. They beat a superb Germany team that despatched England and Argentina with ease, but perversely they are not what we have comee to expect from Spain. They have but once scored more than one goal in a match, against Chile, which speaks volumes about their reluctance to commit. Starved of possession, opponents are forced to counter-attack which are broken up easily by an efficent Spanish back line. They have the quality to score, and they know it, biding their time until David Villa takes advantage and scores; they then revert to possession football, draining the life out of viewers as adeptly as they do their adversaries.
Spain will win the final on Sunday, probably 1-0, and it will be boring. The Netherlands will pour forward when they can, but bar a replication on Van Bronckhorst's blockbuster of a strike against Uruguay, they won't find a way through. The best team will win it, but they will lose a lot of admires along the way.
EDIT: Barney Ronay from the Guardian basically wrote this article, but better, so you may as well read this instead.
Wednesday 7 July 2010
Tour De France
I bloody love this race. Just as it seemed over for my favourites just as it had begun, they are now back in contention. Andy Schleck looked out of it after the prologue, conspiring to lose 45 seconds to the likely winner, Contador. Wiggins did nearly badly losing somewhere near 30s. It doesn't seem like much, but Contador's time-trialling ability, so often a crucial factor, vastly exceeds that of Schleck and is superior even to Wiggins, an excellent individual rider, as showcased by his efforts in Beijing.
Aided by a well-timed, but ultimately race-ending, crash by his brother Frank, the monumental efforts of Fabian Cancellara, and the famed cobblestone roads of northern France, Schleck was able to keep with the elite leading group of 6, all of which were champions of some kind, and reclaimed a minute over Contador and even more over Lance Armstrong. Without Frank he is weakened in the mountains, but Contador has been off-key is recent months as well; a fascinating battle will hopefully evolve between the two. As for Wiggins, he was in the Contador group until the latter inexplicably dropped off the back end with less than a kilometre to go. The gains are far less than the minute gained by Schleck but at the same time he had less to claw back.
To cap it all was the second place finish by Geraint Thomas, the 24-year-old Welshman, which, thanks to a fifth place in the prologue, puts him in second overall, and into the white jersey.
Aided by a well-timed, but ultimately race-ending, crash by his brother Frank, the monumental efforts of Fabian Cancellara, and the famed cobblestone roads of northern France, Schleck was able to keep with the elite leading group of 6, all of which were champions of some kind, and reclaimed a minute over Contador and even more over Lance Armstrong. Without Frank he is weakened in the mountains, but Contador has been off-key is recent months as well; a fascinating battle will hopefully evolve between the two. As for Wiggins, he was in the Contador group until the latter inexplicably dropped off the back end with less than a kilometre to go. The gains are far less than the minute gained by Schleck but at the same time he had less to claw back.
To cap it all was the second place finish by Geraint Thomas, the 24-year-old Welshman, which, thanks to a fifth place in the prologue, puts him in second overall, and into the white jersey.
Saturday 3 July 2010
The Untouchables
I was under the impression that this was a Great Film. It seems a good number of people hold this ill-informed belief as well: it has an 81% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. However, The Untouchables definately is not a Great Film. While there are undeniably sporadic strong features, such as impressive, artful-shot locations, the remainder is basically bad.
The Untouchables initially presents itself as a historical crime thriller, which it succeeds at in a hammy, inconsistent sort of way, but by the end De Palma allows it to descend into a poorly thought out action film, with some unforgiveably unrealistic death-scenes. This sudden change in direction is disconcerting; a tack-on in an attempt to jolt some excitement into an otherwise boring film, and it shows. There are other baffling attempts at drumming up some tension, for instance the weird first-person camerawork which was basically poorly executed.
De Palma makes it abundantly clear that Eliot Ness is a do-gooder through and through. He never waivers in upholding the law, never a flawed hero, and is contrasted heavily with the caricature that is Al Capone, played poorly by Robert de Niro. He doesn't seem to be trying; his performance is just like so many of his other Italian mob characters, albeit more poorly written. De Niro isn't the only poor actor, either.
How Sean Connery was ever Oscar-nominated for his performance as Malone, I'll never know. His accent was justifiably ranked by Empire as the worst ever in film, beating such renowed accents as Dick Van Dyke and, er, Kevin Costner in Robin Hood, who incidentally stars as Eliott Ness.
There are few redeeming features. I've mentioned already the beautiful wide shots, particularly of the Chicago streets and there are some powerful moments, such as the 'TOUCHABLE' scene, but these fall short of papering over the gaping cracks. Poor preformances, poor direction and poor use of source material make this a flop.
2/5
The Untouchables initially presents itself as a historical crime thriller, which it succeeds at in a hammy, inconsistent sort of way, but by the end De Palma allows it to descend into a poorly thought out action film, with some unforgiveably unrealistic death-scenes. This sudden change in direction is disconcerting; a tack-on in an attempt to jolt some excitement into an otherwise boring film, and it shows. There are other baffling attempts at drumming up some tension, for instance the weird first-person camerawork which was basically poorly executed.
De Palma makes it abundantly clear that Eliot Ness is a do-gooder through and through. He never waivers in upholding the law, never a flawed hero, and is contrasted heavily with the caricature that is Al Capone, played poorly by Robert de Niro. He doesn't seem to be trying; his performance is just like so many of his other Italian mob characters, albeit more poorly written. De Niro isn't the only poor actor, either.
How Sean Connery was ever Oscar-nominated for his performance as Malone, I'll never know. His accent was justifiably ranked by Empire as the worst ever in film, beating such renowed accents as Dick Van Dyke and, er, Kevin Costner in Robin Hood, who incidentally stars as Eliott Ness.
There are few redeeming features. I've mentioned already the beautiful wide shots, particularly of the Chicago streets and there are some powerful moments, such as the 'TOUCHABLE' scene, but these fall short of papering over the gaping cracks. Poor preformances, poor direction and poor use of source material make this a flop.
2/5
Sunday 27 June 2010
Looking Forward to 2014
Before I get into this, I might as well comment on the defeat earlier today at the hands of Germany. We were thrashed, but at least we gave it a go - had the goal line incident been correctly judged, who knows what would have happened. Probably a defeat, but still respectable. I would much rather we lose with a performance that at least showed some attacking spark and get ruthlessly counter-attacked than limp out in ignominious circumstances, a la 2006.
In this blog I'm going to hypothesise the team for the World Cup in 2014, and I think it will be drastically different to this team. Firstly, likely survivors. From the defence, Ashley Cole and John Terry will both be 33, perhaps young enough, but it would seem unlikely. Glen Johnson would be 29, so still young enough to maintain the level he is currently showing, though his ability to compete even now at the highest level is questionable. Ferdinand, Upson and King will be gone, with the only possible survivor being Dawson, who I still maintain would have been the best partner for Terry. Midfield: Gerrard will be gone, likewise Lampard (played well today I thought) and Joe Cole, with Barry and Milner being the only two with a chance at 2014 - Barry because his position is less dependent on mobility which will decrease with age, and Milner because he is still only 24. Whether he is good enough is uncertain. Lennon will surely still feature, but Carrick and SWP will not be so lucky. Rooney is the only forward that will make the cut in four years time. So, on with the up-and-comers.
Joe Hart, Manchester City (GK):- Absolutely has to be given the #1 spot come the Euro 2012 qualification rounds. His class is undoubted and his position come 2014 certain, but he must be blooded and given responsibilty now. The real deal.
Ryan Shawcross, Blackburn (CB):- I am as yet unconvinced of his abilities, but many others rate him highly. At 22 he will be a good age in four years time.
Keiran Gibbs, Arsenal (LB):- Looks a good prospect and worthy of the comparisons with Ashley Cole. Was part of the England team that was thrashed 4-0 to Germany in the final of the 2009 u21 European Championship, which incidentally, contained four players that featured for Germany today.
Kyle Naughton, Spurs (RB):- Despite playing for my team I have only seen him in action once, but he looked pretty good. If he doesn't make the grade there's always Kyle Walker, also at Spurs, also originally from Sheffield, also called Kyle and also a right-back.
As for other top-class early to mid 20s Centre Backs, I can't think of any. We seem to be royally screwed in this department, but who knows what will happen.
Jack Rodwell, Everton (DM):- Having already chalked up a number of impressive appearances for Everton, it seems likely he will reach his considerable potential. He is able to play in many positions, but his best is yet be acertained. He will perhaps still be a bit young, 23 in 2014, which is more of a problem for defenders than attackers, so perhaps more of an outside bet, but his time will come.
Jack Wilshire, Arsenal (LW):- He'll only be 22 in 2014, but this lad looks the business. Impressive even at just 16, experience at Bolton will serve him well, and I am confident he can flourish at the highest level. If he's good enough, he's old enough.
Adam Johnson, Manchester City (LW):- Should have been on the plane this year, and will surely be a brilliant player in a few years.
Tom Huddlestone, Spurs (CM):- He's taking a long time to really develop his defensive game, but on the evidence of the latter half of this season he looks to have made huge strides. No one on the planet can play long-balls with as much accuracy as Thud, and he retain it on the floor too. Not to mention his mean shot, which frankly could take someone's head off. Keep the faith.
Danny Rose, Spurs (either wing):- it is likely he has already scored the best goal of his career, but that strike against Arsenal aside, his play was good for a player his age. Good enough for the world stage? Not convinced yet.
Theo Walcott, Arsenal (FW):- Notice I listed him as a forward, not a winger. Rightfully denied a place this year as a winger, but I feel he will eventually end up as a striker. He has poor passing and crossing ability, but his pace is fearsome and his finishing Owen-esque. I still rate him as a player, but please, Arsene, play him up front, or he will fizzle out.
Also seriously struggled to find striking quality in the 20-24 age-group from where players will likely be picked. Off the top of my head, Daniel Sturridge looks okay, but not good enough; likewise Danny Welbeck. Promising younger players like Victor Moses and John Obika won't be given a chance.
Conclusion: we're going to get stuffed. Sorry. Too many gaps to fill, not enough talent.
In this blog I'm going to hypothesise the team for the World Cup in 2014, and I think it will be drastically different to this team. Firstly, likely survivors. From the defence, Ashley Cole and John Terry will both be 33, perhaps young enough, but it would seem unlikely. Glen Johnson would be 29, so still young enough to maintain the level he is currently showing, though his ability to compete even now at the highest level is questionable. Ferdinand, Upson and King will be gone, with the only possible survivor being Dawson, who I still maintain would have been the best partner for Terry. Midfield: Gerrard will be gone, likewise Lampard (played well today I thought) and Joe Cole, with Barry and Milner being the only two with a chance at 2014 - Barry because his position is less dependent on mobility which will decrease with age, and Milner because he is still only 24. Whether he is good enough is uncertain. Lennon will surely still feature, but Carrick and SWP will not be so lucky. Rooney is the only forward that will make the cut in four years time. So, on with the up-and-comers.
Joe Hart, Manchester City (GK):- Absolutely has to be given the #1 spot come the Euro 2012 qualification rounds. His class is undoubted and his position come 2014 certain, but he must be blooded and given responsibilty now. The real deal.
Ryan Shawcross, Blackburn (CB):- I am as yet unconvinced of his abilities, but many others rate him highly. At 22 he will be a good age in four years time.
Keiran Gibbs, Arsenal (LB):- Looks a good prospect and worthy of the comparisons with Ashley Cole. Was part of the England team that was thrashed 4-0 to Germany in the final of the 2009 u21 European Championship, which incidentally, contained four players that featured for Germany today.
Kyle Naughton, Spurs (RB):- Despite playing for my team I have only seen him in action once, but he looked pretty good. If he doesn't make the grade there's always Kyle Walker, also at Spurs, also originally from Sheffield, also called Kyle and also a right-back.
As for other top-class early to mid 20s Centre Backs, I can't think of any. We seem to be royally screwed in this department, but who knows what will happen.
Jack Rodwell, Everton (DM):- Having already chalked up a number of impressive appearances for Everton, it seems likely he will reach his considerable potential. He is able to play in many positions, but his best is yet be acertained. He will perhaps still be a bit young, 23 in 2014, which is more of a problem for defenders than attackers, so perhaps more of an outside bet, but his time will come.
Jack Wilshire, Arsenal (LW):- He'll only be 22 in 2014, but this lad looks the business. Impressive even at just 16, experience at Bolton will serve him well, and I am confident he can flourish at the highest level. If he's good enough, he's old enough.
Adam Johnson, Manchester City (LW):- Should have been on the plane this year, and will surely be a brilliant player in a few years.
Tom Huddlestone, Spurs (CM):- He's taking a long time to really develop his defensive game, but on the evidence of the latter half of this season he looks to have made huge strides. No one on the planet can play long-balls with as much accuracy as Thud, and he retain it on the floor too. Not to mention his mean shot, which frankly could take someone's head off. Keep the faith.
Danny Rose, Spurs (either wing):- it is likely he has already scored the best goal of his career, but that strike against Arsenal aside, his play was good for a player his age. Good enough for the world stage? Not convinced yet.
Theo Walcott, Arsenal (FW):- Notice I listed him as a forward, not a winger. Rightfully denied a place this year as a winger, but I feel he will eventually end up as a striker. He has poor passing and crossing ability, but his pace is fearsome and his finishing Owen-esque. I still rate him as a player, but please, Arsene, play him up front, or he will fizzle out.
Also seriously struggled to find striking quality in the 20-24 age-group from where players will likely be picked. Off the top of my head, Daniel Sturridge looks okay, but not good enough; likewise Danny Welbeck. Promising younger players like Victor Moses and John Obika won't be given a chance.
Conclusion: we're going to get stuffed. Sorry. Too many gaps to fill, not enough talent.
Monday 21 June 2010
It might be a comedy site, but there are some solid ideas in this article.
Our society would be a far better place if we were all taught these things in school.
Our society would be a far better place if we were all taught these things in school.
Sunday 20 June 2010
All-Star XI, thus far
I'm bored, so here's the best team so far in the tournament.
GK: No outstanding candidates quite yet. Enyeama did exceptionally to keep Argentina at 1-0, but gifted Greece a winner to all but condemn Nigeria to elimination. In that case,Valdimir Stojkovic gets the nod for saving a penalty against a German, only the second in history in open play.
RB: Easy, this one: Maicon. His apparent immunity to fatigue in combination with his intrinsic desire to overlap makes him a constant menace.
CB: Ryan Nelsen: heroic in keeping Italy out, aside from a wrongfully awarded penalty (that Nelsen wasn't involved in)
CB: John Terry. What! I hear you cry? Well, the US only had one real chance, and Algeria had none. We were hardly an attacking threat in both games, but that's not Terry's responsibility.
LB: Okay, so Phillip Lahm has played on the right for Germany, but as good as he has been there, he's better in his natural position. Outmuscled to allow the headed assist for Serbia's goal.
DM: Javier Mascerano as been brilliant at breaking up opposition attacks in his inimitable scuttling style.
RM: Dennis Rommedahl: the outstanding player in Denmarks decent squad, and the fulcrum for victory over Cameroon. A constant thorn in the Indomitable Lions' side, he created the first and scored the second thanks to a great touch and sublime speed. My man of the tournament thus far.
LM: Robinho was technically more of a left wing-forward, but I'm shoe-horning him into LM. Brought the usual bag of tricks, but also an end product - his defence splitter was the pass of the tournament.
AM: It's got to be Lionel Messi for, well, you know why. However, an honourable mention goes to Tse-Se Jong, who is playing more like Wayne Rooney than the real Wayne Rooney. Another honourable mention goes to Mesut Ozil, who orchestrated Germany's demolition of Australia, made especially impressive when you consider he's only 21...until you realise Messi himself is just 22.
CF: Gonzalo Higuain scored the first hat-trick since Pauleta in 2002. It's easy to dismiss all his goals as tap-ins (they were) but it takes a good striking brain to be in those crucial positions at the right time.
CF: Diego Forlan, the only other player to score more than one outfield goal (Gyan is excluded), is really the only other choice so far. Aside from the goals he is the most important member in an impressive Uruguyan side that put South Africa to the sword.
I'd love to hear your suggestions.
GK: No outstanding candidates quite yet. Enyeama did exceptionally to keep Argentina at 1-0, but gifted Greece a winner to all but condemn Nigeria to elimination. In that case,Valdimir Stojkovic gets the nod for saving a penalty against a German, only the second in history in open play.
RB: Easy, this one: Maicon. His apparent immunity to fatigue in combination with his intrinsic desire to overlap makes him a constant menace.
CB: Ryan Nelsen: heroic in keeping Italy out, aside from a wrongfully awarded penalty (that Nelsen wasn't involved in)
CB: John Terry. What! I hear you cry? Well, the US only had one real chance, and Algeria had none. We were hardly an attacking threat in both games, but that's not Terry's responsibility.
LB: Okay, so Phillip Lahm has played on the right for Germany, but as good as he has been there, he's better in his natural position. Outmuscled to allow the headed assist for Serbia's goal.
DM: Javier Mascerano as been brilliant at breaking up opposition attacks in his inimitable scuttling style.
RM: Dennis Rommedahl: the outstanding player in Denmarks decent squad, and the fulcrum for victory over Cameroon. A constant thorn in the Indomitable Lions' side, he created the first and scored the second thanks to a great touch and sublime speed. My man of the tournament thus far.
LM: Robinho was technically more of a left wing-forward, but I'm shoe-horning him into LM. Brought the usual bag of tricks, but also an end product - his defence splitter was the pass of the tournament.
AM: It's got to be Lionel Messi for, well, you know why. However, an honourable mention goes to Tse-Se Jong, who is playing more like Wayne Rooney than the real Wayne Rooney. Another honourable mention goes to Mesut Ozil, who orchestrated Germany's demolition of Australia, made especially impressive when you consider he's only 21...until you realise Messi himself is just 22.
CF: Gonzalo Higuain scored the first hat-trick since Pauleta in 2002. It's easy to dismiss all his goals as tap-ins (they were) but it takes a good striking brain to be in those crucial positions at the right time.
CF: Diego Forlan, the only other player to score more than one outfield goal (Gyan is excluded), is really the only other choice so far. Aside from the goals he is the most important member in an impressive Uruguyan side that put South Africa to the sword.
I'd love to hear your suggestions.
Tuesday 15 June 2010
Why I Cheered For 'Korea Democratic Peoples' Republic'
It was the greatest mismatch possible: Brazil vs the Korea Democratic Peoples' Republic, better known as North Korea. A team ranked 1st in the world, almost as well known for their teamwork as their individual flair, versus a team ranked 102nd, about whom very little is known. I truly despise North Korea and its consistent war-mongering, and I've had a good few laughs at the Korean's bizarre set-up. They train in a public gym, they hired Chinese actors to pretend to be North Korean supporters, their television networks have been told to edit the match so it casts them in a favourable light and their coach snapped at a journalist that dared refer to his team as 'North Korea'. I was hoping for a spanking, partly because it would be amusing trying to work out how the television networks would make their zero good moments into a highlights reel, and partly because I'm thirsty for goals after a worrying goal drought, as mentioned in the previous post.
However, my mind was changed even before a ball was kicked. Tae-Se Jong, the captain and only player to own a mobile phone, was seen in tears during the KDPR national anthem. Perhaps his belief in his Great Leader is woefully misguided, but there's no doubting the commitment. If English players could show half that passion we would be in a far stronger position than we are now.
As expected, the Brazilians dominated possession, but were face with a defence that was not just committed, but also surprisingly adept. Brazil simply could not find a way through, and resorted to long shots, relinquising possession and allowing the Koreans to counter-attack, spearheaded by the aforementioned Jong. He really was excellent, a constant thorn, and eventually provided the assist an astonishing goal. It was too little too late, with Brazil already ahead 2-0 by this point, but it was some reward for a disciplined yet often technically astute performance. Faced with a more impotent opposition (see Portugal and Ivory Coasts 0-0), they might just have a chance, and I would welcome it.
I will mock no longer.
However, my mind was changed even before a ball was kicked. Tae-Se Jong, the captain and only player to own a mobile phone, was seen in tears during the KDPR national anthem. Perhaps his belief in his Great Leader is woefully misguided, but there's no doubting the commitment. If English players could show half that passion we would be in a far stronger position than we are now.
As expected, the Brazilians dominated possession, but were face with a defence that was not just committed, but also surprisingly adept. Brazil simply could not find a way through, and resorted to long shots, relinquising possession and allowing the Koreans to counter-attack, spearheaded by the aforementioned Jong. He really was excellent, a constant thorn, and eventually provided the assist an astonishing goal. It was too little too late, with Brazil already ahead 2-0 by this point, but it was some reward for a disciplined yet often technically astute performance. Faced with a more impotent opposition (see Portugal and Ivory Coasts 0-0), they might just have a chance, and I would welcome it.
I will mock no longer.
Why Has The World Cup Been So Boring So Far?
There's no denying it: this World Cup thus far has been terrible. The ultimate sporting jamboree, a showcase of the world's best talent, and yet twelve games in only one team has scored more than twice, Germany with four in by far the most entertaining match. The Netherlands and South Korea are the only teams to score twice. There has to be a reason for this.
Altitude could be a factor. With less oxygen players are willing to run less, make runs, and generally have the courage to make an exhausting foray that will tax the lungs but probably not the opposition goalkeeper. However, not every stadium is at altitude, with a good few at sea-level, and there is no correllation between height and goals.
The atmphosphere, perhaps? Not the literal atmosphere, but the crowd-generated excitement: the roar that chases a winger down the flank, the gasps at near misses. I maybe sensationalising things a bit here, but it is an undeniable factor. 40 000 people shouting at a lacklustre player will get him moving. In South Africa, atmosphere of this kind has been sorely wanting. Stadia are dominated by vuvuzela-tooting South Africans; flights and ticket prices have mean there hasn't been a noticable worldwide presence, providing fans that actually know how to get a stadium rocking. Am I being unfair on the South Africans? No, I don't think so. It may be in their country, and it's good that a World Cup is in Africa, but they must surely realise that the entire world is being driven insane by the incessant buzzing. Imagine going to a dinner party only to find aggressive dubstep being played the whole time. It's not proper. South Africa have taken the role of setting an example for the whole continent, and while I think it should be distinctively African. But if this sets a precedent for the whole continent then it's hard to see other countries getting the vote in coming years.
As annoying as the vuvuzelas are, they cannot be entirely to blame; Jamie Carragher said he wasn't affected by them, though I would imagine his ears aren't great after spending a career playing at Anfield. Could the frequently slammed Jabulani be to blame? Are the Adidas boffins wrong in that impeccable roundness doesn't equal ease of use, or perhaps it's a good ball, just far too different to from regular footballs. The Jabulani was used for the past season in the Bundesliga, which resulted in the highest goals to games ratio of all the big European leagues. That could, however, explain why German have scored the most, while everyone else is struggling.
We are still in the early stages of the World Cup, but just 20 goals have been scored in comparison with 28 by this stage four years ago. 140% more goals were scored in 2006 than 2010. By the end of the first round of group matches 39 goals had gone it. No pressure on Brazil, Portugal, Ivory Coast and Spain, then, who have to hit five a piece, which would result in an amazing 5-5 draw between Ivory Coast and Portugal.
Altitude could be a factor. With less oxygen players are willing to run less, make runs, and generally have the courage to make an exhausting foray that will tax the lungs but probably not the opposition goalkeeper. However, not every stadium is at altitude, with a good few at sea-level, and there is no correllation between height and goals.
The atmphosphere, perhaps? Not the literal atmosphere, but the crowd-generated excitement: the roar that chases a winger down the flank, the gasps at near misses. I maybe sensationalising things a bit here, but it is an undeniable factor. 40 000 people shouting at a lacklustre player will get him moving. In South Africa, atmosphere of this kind has been sorely wanting. Stadia are dominated by vuvuzela-tooting South Africans; flights and ticket prices have mean there hasn't been a noticable worldwide presence, providing fans that actually know how to get a stadium rocking. Am I being unfair on the South Africans? No, I don't think so. It may be in their country, and it's good that a World Cup is in Africa, but they must surely realise that the entire world is being driven insane by the incessant buzzing. Imagine going to a dinner party only to find aggressive dubstep being played the whole time. It's not proper. South Africa have taken the role of setting an example for the whole continent, and while I think it should be distinctively African. But if this sets a precedent for the whole continent then it's hard to see other countries getting the vote in coming years.
As annoying as the vuvuzelas are, they cannot be entirely to blame; Jamie Carragher said he wasn't affected by them, though I would imagine his ears aren't great after spending a career playing at Anfield. Could the frequently slammed Jabulani be to blame? Are the Adidas boffins wrong in that impeccable roundness doesn't equal ease of use, or perhaps it's a good ball, just far too different to from regular footballs. The Jabulani was used for the past season in the Bundesliga, which resulted in the highest goals to games ratio of all the big European leagues. That could, however, explain why German have scored the most, while everyone else is struggling.
We are still in the early stages of the World Cup, but just 20 goals have been scored in comparison with 28 by this stage four years ago. 140% more goals were scored in 2006 than 2010. By the end of the first round of group matches 39 goals had gone it. No pressure on Brazil, Portugal, Ivory Coast and Spain, then, who have to hit five a piece, which would result in an amazing 5-5 draw between Ivory Coast and Portugal.
Sunday 13 June 2010
Some Positives
Okay, so 1-1 wasn't quite the result we were hoping for, but it's not all doom and gloom.
- Steven Gerrard played very well, scoring and making some crunching tackles. In short, he played like he does for Liverpool.
- We created chances. Argentina won 1-0 against Nigeria, but no one is complaining about their lack of goals. Had Rob Green not fumbled so horribly we would be in exactly the same position.
- It's unlikely that an error as glaring as that will happen again. Green made a decent save from Altidore, but by tipping it onto the post he made it look better than it was in reality. David James and Joe Hart are both more capable.
- There was some solid ball retention. One touch passing in the middle is something that England have seemed unable to do, but today they did it well.
- It's an obvious one, but America didn't win either, and at the end of the day its who has the most points. Our fate is very much in our hands. Algiera and Slovenia won't be easy, but if we can't beat these two, then we can't beat anyone.
Friday 11 June 2010
South Africa 1-1 Mexico - Match Report
All the build-up seemed to threaten the un-thinkable: that Mexico might actually go and win this one, ruthlessly crushing the sky-high hopes and dreams of millions of South Africans. The multitudes of interviews with jubilant men, women and children all loyal to the Bafana Bafana cause seemed to pessimistic me that a awful defeat beckoned, and the first ten minutes seemed to confirm my fears.
It was a good seven minutes before the first South African player actually managed to get that pesky Jubilani under control; Mexico were making South Africa look like they were doing their best to fulfil that old African football team stereotype: decent individuals but no idea how to pass and defensively naive. Mexico had a goal ruled out shortly after for offside, but then something strange happened. South Africa remembered how to pass, and although it came to nothing, they worked the ball with skill and speed down the left, and with just a touch more vision the left-winger could have been played through (sorry, I don't know any of their names, bar Pienaar and Mokoena. And Tshabalala, who I'll get to shortly). There was another interlude of erattic play from the hosts, before something similar happened again, and I thought, perhaps this team are decent after all. Half time arrived with the scores still 0-0, with Mexico looking increasingly impotent despite the endeavours of Giovanni Dos Santos, who looks and plays like Ronaldinho's younger brother.
After continuing very much in the same vein the first half finished for ten minutes, South Africa scored, and it was an absolute beauty. Siphiwe Shabalala was put through but a surgical daisy-cutter on the left, he took a touch and walloped it past Perez straight into the top-right corner; replays showed Shabalala making perfect contact. The din from the already infamous vuvuzuelas became intolerable, what it must have been like inside the stadium I hope I'll never know.
South Africa were unable to find a second, and Mexico finally did my eardrums a favour and scored in the 78th minute. Thank God for that, a bit of peace and quiet. South Africa hit the woodwork following a route one pass in the dying minutes, but with neither side being able to make the decisive move the game finished 1-1.
It was a good seven minutes before the first South African player actually managed to get that pesky Jubilani under control; Mexico were making South Africa look like they were doing their best to fulfil that old African football team stereotype: decent individuals but no idea how to pass and defensively naive. Mexico had a goal ruled out shortly after for offside, but then something strange happened. South Africa remembered how to pass, and although it came to nothing, they worked the ball with skill and speed down the left, and with just a touch more vision the left-winger could have been played through (sorry, I don't know any of their names, bar Pienaar and Mokoena. And Tshabalala, who I'll get to shortly). There was another interlude of erattic play from the hosts, before something similar happened again, and I thought, perhaps this team are decent after all. Half time arrived with the scores still 0-0, with Mexico looking increasingly impotent despite the endeavours of Giovanni Dos Santos, who looks and plays like Ronaldinho's younger brother.
After continuing very much in the same vein the first half finished for ten minutes, South Africa scored, and it was an absolute beauty. Siphiwe Shabalala was put through but a surgical daisy-cutter on the left, he took a touch and walloped it past Perez straight into the top-right corner; replays showed Shabalala making perfect contact. The din from the already infamous vuvuzuelas became intolerable, what it must have been like inside the stadium I hope I'll never know.
South Africa were unable to find a second, and Mexico finally did my eardrums a favour and scored in the 78th minute. Thank God for that, a bit of peace and quiet. South Africa hit the woodwork following a route one pass in the dying minutes, but with neither side being able to make the decisive move the game finished 1-1.
Saturday 5 June 2010
What the Hell happened to Muse?
The release of the incredibly unimaginative Neutron Star Collision has confirmed Muse as a band that can no longer be called 'Good'. Thing is, I didn't see it coming. Black Holes and Revelations was a step down from the previous two, sure, but it was still by no means a bad album: Map of the Problematique and Knights of Cydonia will be considered classic Muse in time to come.
Then about this time last year, United States of Eurasia was released, and I loved it - it promised the album I had been hoping for. The follow-up, Uprising was more...solid, but still quite good. And then there was the much-hyped Exogenesis suite. It was billed to be a culmination of everything Muse had done previously, but alas, it was rubbish. In a way Exogenesis sums up what went wrong: Muse over extended themselves, the majestic classical stylings of Butterflies & Hurricanes from Absolution gave way to pomposity, with classical pretentions that not even Matt Bellamy could achieve successfully. Exogenesis was very much Bellamy's own, and without his less-celebrated but nevertheless essential bandmates he fell flat.
Exogenesis wasn't the only mis-fire. Bellamy doesn't speak French; why then the ridiculous add-on "(Mon Coeur S'ouvre A Ta Voix), and the full-blow Francophone singing? And the flute? WHY WAS THERE A FLUTE! On top of that Undisclosed Desires is comfortably the worst song ever released by Muse, not helped by the tragic hip-hop beat. I could rant for ages about the shortcomings of each individual track.
Is there hope for recovery? I really hope so, but somehow I'm doubtful. They're no less popular than before, if not more so, so it seems unlikely that Muse will suddenly refind that youthful energy that made them such an exciting live - and studio - band.
Then about this time last year, United States of Eurasia was released, and I loved it - it promised the album I had been hoping for. The follow-up, Uprising was more...solid, but still quite good. And then there was the much-hyped Exogenesis suite. It was billed to be a culmination of everything Muse had done previously, but alas, it was rubbish. In a way Exogenesis sums up what went wrong: Muse over extended themselves, the majestic classical stylings of Butterflies & Hurricanes from Absolution gave way to pomposity, with classical pretentions that not even Matt Bellamy could achieve successfully. Exogenesis was very much Bellamy's own, and without his less-celebrated but nevertheless essential bandmates he fell flat.
Exogenesis wasn't the only mis-fire. Bellamy doesn't speak French; why then the ridiculous add-on "(Mon Coeur S'ouvre A Ta Voix), and the full-blow Francophone singing? And the flute? WHY WAS THERE A FLUTE! On top of that Undisclosed Desires is comfortably the worst song ever released by Muse, not helped by the tragic hip-hop beat. I could rant for ages about the shortcomings of each individual track.
Is there hope for recovery? I really hope so, but somehow I'm doubtful. They're no less popular than before, if not more so, so it seems unlikely that Muse will suddenly refind that youthful energy that made them such an exciting live - and studio - band.
Tuesday 1 June 2010
Why Fabio Made A Mess Of Our World Cup Preparation
It's not a complete disaster by any means: a decent squad will board the plane next week, but it's make-up is weaker than it could be, and preparations have been inadequate. Here's why:
The Players
My main gripes are the omissions of Michael Dawson and Adam Johnson. Michael Dawson played nearly every game in a Spurs team that clinched fourth place this season, and is now ready to step up a level. The rock in an ever-changing Spurs defence, was brilliant throughout the whole campaign, and was a major factor in achieving the lowest ever number of goals conceded in the Premier League era for Spurs. I believe only Chelsea conceded fewer goals. Speaking of Chelsea, Dawson is very much in the mould of their captain, John Terry. Both can be described as classic English centre-backs, gritty and determined, and while Terry still has the edge, Dawson has a bit of pace that all-too-frequently proves a costly flaw in Terry's game. Dawson also has the advantage of not being a bastard. But who should have Dawson replaced? Matthew Upson, the shoddy West Ham centre-back who, in a team with a good number of international players, only just crawled home 17th. With Upson we know what we're getting - a decent but nevertheless sub-international standard defender who suffered a poor season at a poor club and has never excelled when called up into the first team. Dawson is something of a wild card - but if we find ourselves shorn of Terry and Ferdinand, Dawson could just excell himself, particularly if he is pair with Ledley king, with whom he shares good communication.
Adam Johnson, the young Manchester City left-winger, is a similarly unknown quantity. He is a very tricky player, intelligent and swift, who can provide a touch of inspiration that the England team sorely lacks at times. He is more-or-less unproven at international level, but in the 10 minutes he played against Mexico he was sharp, certainly sharp enough to warrant a run-out on Sunday against Japan, but the call never came. Again, the question is: who should he replace? This is tougher one - all the England midfield seem to be sound selections - but I would argue drop a goalkeeper. Goalkeepers are unlikely to be injured or booked, so just the one back-up will suffice. If one gets crocked it is a risk to have no replacement, but to quote the Spurs motto "He Who Dares Wins". Drop James, take Johnson.
Preparation
The ru-up to the World Cup has been horrendously disjointed, with the likely first eleven having hardly played a game together. Fabio was split in two minds: do I give everyone a run out or do I stick with a team early and give them a few games to gel? He did neither, with a large number of the 30-man squad getting 45 minutes, or in Adam Johnson and Michael Dawson's cases, 10 minutes or less. That is not enough to establish whether they are good enough at the top level or will fit in the team. Players can take ten games or more to feel comfortable, and while I recognise that is an amount of time that Fabio simply didn't have, he should have decided upon a formation on a game-by-game basis, and given the unknowns time to show what they can do. What this chop-and-change method achieved is to leave the team in an uncertain position after the Japan game. Without any qualifiers for nine months the first eleven will possibly be strangers to each other, and since 45 minutes is not enough time to judge a player, replacement will be ill-judged.
Perhaps one element that Fabio can be forgiven is the lack of games played. England have played 3 internationals this yeah; Japan had played 6. However, if you look at the number of games each English player had played in comparision to his Japanese counter-parts it is clear that there simply isn't enough time to fit more internationals into an already packed schedule. Still, there's no doubting that Fabio could have made better use of the recent friendlies.
EDIT: Apparently it's against the rules to take only two keepers, but I still think Johnson should go, this time in place of Shaun Wright-Phillips. I quite like SWP but he has recieved a bit of a bashing from the press - he's direct, fast and can run through broken play perhaps even more adeptly that Aaron Lennon, but we need a left winger, and SWP can't play there. Without bothering to fully check, it appears that Ashley Cole and Stephen Warnock are the only left-footers in the team (not even sure about Warnock), and it is absolutely important we have that capability. Joe Cole can operate on the left, as he did last time round, but it is not his best position, likewise for Gerrard. SWP could be a lethal impact substitute, but it is more important to have a balanced team across the 90, instead of relying on a goal in the last ten minutes. SWP can't cross; Johnson can, so if our game plan breaks down, bring on Crouch and have the Johnsons and Lennon swing crosses onto his head.
EDIT 2: So Ferdinand is injured, Dawson gets a call-up!
The Players
My main gripes are the omissions of Michael Dawson and Adam Johnson. Michael Dawson played nearly every game in a Spurs team that clinched fourth place this season, and is now ready to step up a level. The rock in an ever-changing Spurs defence, was brilliant throughout the whole campaign, and was a major factor in achieving the lowest ever number of goals conceded in the Premier League era for Spurs. I believe only Chelsea conceded fewer goals. Speaking of Chelsea, Dawson is very much in the mould of their captain, John Terry. Both can be described as classic English centre-backs, gritty and determined, and while Terry still has the edge, Dawson has a bit of pace that all-too-frequently proves a costly flaw in Terry's game. Dawson also has the advantage of not being a bastard. But who should have Dawson replaced? Matthew Upson, the shoddy West Ham centre-back who, in a team with a good number of international players, only just crawled home 17th. With Upson we know what we're getting - a decent but nevertheless sub-international standard defender who suffered a poor season at a poor club and has never excelled when called up into the first team. Dawson is something of a wild card - but if we find ourselves shorn of Terry and Ferdinand, Dawson could just excell himself, particularly if he is pair with Ledley king, with whom he shares good communication.
Adam Johnson, the young Manchester City left-winger, is a similarly unknown quantity. He is a very tricky player, intelligent and swift, who can provide a touch of inspiration that the England team sorely lacks at times. He is more-or-less unproven at international level, but in the 10 minutes he played against Mexico he was sharp, certainly sharp enough to warrant a run-out on Sunday against Japan, but the call never came. Again, the question is: who should he replace? This is tougher one - all the England midfield seem to be sound selections - but I would argue drop a goalkeeper. Goalkeepers are unlikely to be injured or booked, so just the one back-up will suffice. If one gets crocked it is a risk to have no replacement, but to quote the Spurs motto "He Who Dares Wins". Drop James, take Johnson.
Preparation
The ru-up to the World Cup has been horrendously disjointed, with the likely first eleven having hardly played a game together. Fabio was split in two minds: do I give everyone a run out or do I stick with a team early and give them a few games to gel? He did neither, with a large number of the 30-man squad getting 45 minutes, or in Adam Johnson and Michael Dawson's cases, 10 minutes or less. That is not enough to establish whether they are good enough at the top level or will fit in the team. Players can take ten games or more to feel comfortable, and while I recognise that is an amount of time that Fabio simply didn't have, he should have decided upon a formation on a game-by-game basis, and given the unknowns time to show what they can do. What this chop-and-change method achieved is to leave the team in an uncertain position after the Japan game. Without any qualifiers for nine months the first eleven will possibly be strangers to each other, and since 45 minutes is not enough time to judge a player, replacement will be ill-judged.
Perhaps one element that Fabio can be forgiven is the lack of games played. England have played 3 internationals this yeah; Japan had played 6. However, if you look at the number of games each English player had played in comparision to his Japanese counter-parts it is clear that there simply isn't enough time to fit more internationals into an already packed schedule. Still, there's no doubting that Fabio could have made better use of the recent friendlies.
EDIT: Apparently it's against the rules to take only two keepers, but I still think Johnson should go, this time in place of Shaun Wright-Phillips. I quite like SWP but he has recieved a bit of a bashing from the press - he's direct, fast and can run through broken play perhaps even more adeptly that Aaron Lennon, but we need a left winger, and SWP can't play there. Without bothering to fully check, it appears that Ashley Cole and Stephen Warnock are the only left-footers in the team (not even sure about Warnock), and it is absolutely important we have that capability. Joe Cole can operate on the left, as he did last time round, but it is not his best position, likewise for Gerrard. SWP could be a lethal impact substitute, but it is more important to have a balanced team across the 90, instead of relying on a goal in the last ten minutes. SWP can't cross; Johnson can, so if our game plan breaks down, bring on Crouch and have the Johnsons and Lennon swing crosses onto his head.
EDIT 2: So Ferdinand is injured, Dawson gets a call-up!
Wednesday 19 May 2010
OMG
Some extremely clever people up north have managed to recreate a soldier's face using computer imagery. I think this sort of thing has been done before, but this one actually looks like a real person. I say crack open some royal graves and scan in old royalty - medieval paintings are just too awful to really give a genuine likeness. Or everyone was ugly 500 years ago.
Monday 17 May 2010
3:10 To Yuma (James Mangold, 2007)
Will contain spoilers (you're not missing much).
Despite initial promise - Christian Bale and Russel Crowe are two able leads - the formulaic and frequently cliché nature of 3:10 To Yuma stops it ever getting off the ground. You've heard it before: a hard-up rancher (Bale) is tempted into joining a rag-tag bunch in escorting dangerous criminal Ben Wade (Crowe) to the titular train, persued by his gang. Along the way trouble with the locals forces them to work together, and the criminal begins to question is motives and life choices. Will he turn good? Difficult one.
This is James Mangold's first foray into a straight-up actioner, and he handles the gun-fights adroitly, but there are too many slightly suspect moments that just make the film as a whole feel somewhat amateurish. For instance, a group of horseriders charge down a path and the extras, lined along the side, dash in front of the riders to create chaos, but it was far too obviously not how people would react. Shortly after, the well-meaning but timid doctor gets shot in a chase; in the aftermath he asks "Did we make it? Did we get away?" to which Bale replies "Yeah, Doc, we made it". There's enough ham in that line to feed a family of four for a week. Perhaps I'm being too picky, but I feel moments such as these are too common to let slide as isolated incidents. They do have a negative impact on the imersion, certainly.
There are positives. Crowe makes an excellent bad-guy, carrying himself with a sence of purpose and volatility, and Bale isn't bad either, his run-down rancher war-vet is interesting if a little trite. The relationship between Bale and his son is developed well also; I can imagine their relationship is one to which many fathers can relate, although their conclusion feels hollow.
5/10
Despite initial promise - Christian Bale and Russel Crowe are two able leads - the formulaic and frequently cliché nature of 3:10 To Yuma stops it ever getting off the ground. You've heard it before: a hard-up rancher (Bale) is tempted into joining a rag-tag bunch in escorting dangerous criminal Ben Wade (Crowe) to the titular train, persued by his gang. Along the way trouble with the locals forces them to work together, and the criminal begins to question is motives and life choices. Will he turn good? Difficult one.
This is James Mangold's first foray into a straight-up actioner, and he handles the gun-fights adroitly, but there are too many slightly suspect moments that just make the film as a whole feel somewhat amateurish. For instance, a group of horseriders charge down a path and the extras, lined along the side, dash in front of the riders to create chaos, but it was far too obviously not how people would react. Shortly after, the well-meaning but timid doctor gets shot in a chase; in the aftermath he asks "Did we make it? Did we get away?" to which Bale replies "Yeah, Doc, we made it". There's enough ham in that line to feed a family of four for a week. Perhaps I'm being too picky, but I feel moments such as these are too common to let slide as isolated incidents. They do have a negative impact on the imersion, certainly.
There are positives. Crowe makes an excellent bad-guy, carrying himself with a sence of purpose and volatility, and Bale isn't bad either, his run-down rancher war-vet is interesting if a little trite. The relationship between Bale and his son is developed well also; I can imagine their relationship is one to which many fathers can relate, although their conclusion feels hollow.
5/10
Tuesday 4 May 2010
Super Taranta!
- Super Taranta!I know what you're thinking. Five stars? Gogol Bordello? Really? Well, yes actually, hear me out.
Never have I heard an album that is as brimming with creativity and enthusiasm as this. Every song, from start to finish, is dynamic, with a surprising level of subtlety hidden under the chaotic exterior. Despite the minor-key nature of the gypsy music it strongly identifies with the songs are never downbeat, urged onwards by the off-beat rhythms and technical playing of the violinists and accordions.
Unsurprisingly for a band whose members hail from across the globe, Eugene Hutz sings about his roots and culture. American Wedding impales the - to Hutz at least - watered down nature of weddings in America: "Have you ever been to an American wedding?/Where's the vodka, where's the marinated herring?", or "I understand the cultures of a different kind/ But the word celebration just doesn't come to mind". Despite this rather glum outlook it never feels glum, with lyrics like "No one ever talks about my super theory of super everything!" injecting a touch of humour, giving the impression that he is chiding his abdoptive country rather than criticising it. Taking a similarly downbeat attitude to surburban America is Tribal Connections, in which he sings "No can do this/ No can do that/ Then what the hell can you do my friend/ In this place you call your town!"
There are also moments of brilliant fun, with the chorus of Harem In Tuscany being the best example. It blasts along at 100mph and has more twists and turns than Memento. I think it would be fair to say that if you don't enjoy this song you probably have no soul and you can Super Theory of Super Everthing and Forces Of Victory to the bunch too.
Buybuybuybuybuybuybuybuybuybuy!
Monday 3 May 2010
How To Solve A Problem Like Exams
Exam fatigue is already setting in, and they haven't even started yet. At least, round 5 hasn't started yet. Come July, I will have been through: Year 9 SATS, Year 10 Maths, Science and coursework galore, year 11 GCSEs, year 12 As levels and year 13 A2 levels. It has been an almost relentless procession of coursework, revision, examination, repeat, that absolutely heaps pressure on young shoulders, just so we can tackle rounds 6, 7, and 8 (although by all accounts round 6 is a all-round doss).
Examination results really can make or break our lives. Screwing up just one exam can cause people to miss out on their chosen university, or university altogether in general, and it is that fear that hangs over anything from middlingto high achievers for a very long time, forcing people to neglect their social lives and happiness just for some exams. It is awful that so much rides on just a few hours work. The big education bosses seem to have forgotten that we are only children once, and it is far to valuable period of time to be wasted stricken by the spectre of examinations. I recognise that does sounds a bit Helen Lovejoy, but it is a fact: people have massive - justified - worries about the exam period.
Stress isn't the only factor, however. Taking a wider perspective, we are not taught to think, we are taught to pass exams. I feel it has reached the point where sat-down examinations are no longer the best way to assess education. The blame for this lies largely with the introduction of the School League Tables, which dumped a whole load more pressure on schools to perform: good exam results equals more money, which in theory should lead to even better exam results. This spiral increased until schools are forced to only think about how well students do in exams rather than their general development, a result of which is a very narrow skills base.
Perhaps the best example is languages. I study Spanish, predicted B, and can converse reasonably well on important topics like immigrate, science, poverty and a novel and a film. I do not, however, feel confident that I would be able to fend for myself if I were to be dumped unceremoniously in the mean streets of Madrid, instructed to intergrate with other Spaniards. It is telling that the Speaking portion of the exam is the smallest of all, a paltry 20% in comparison the the 80% for Reading, Writing and Listening combined. Speaking is by far the most important and difficult aspect of learning a language, and I cannot understand why it is neglected to such an extent.
Another example is English. I have no gripe with the A level course - I feel it is sufficiently streching and rewarding - instead it is the GCSE course that worries me. So many of my peers leave school at the end of year 11 with basic literary abilities, absolutely basical abilites like grammar, language usage, letter writing etc, and yet we are made to analyse poetry. First off, almost nobody enjoys this, and is generally seen (correctly) as useless as algaebra (incorrectly, morons!). It is likely that 90% will never read, or have to understand, a poem ever again, so why teach it?
I think I have thought of a solution. It has no doubt been mooted before, but I don't care, it seems reasonable enough to me. Firstly, exams as we know them should be scrapped, although coursework should stay. I propose teachers assess pupils across an extended period of time, 3 months, say, during which performance during lessons will be scrutinised. This has several benefits. Exams are a one-off, during which pupils can underperform drastically for various reasons, none the least the immense pressure, but this system will ensure their average attainment can be found more accurately. Secondly, since it is class-time that is being used, students will have an incentive to try as hard as they can, which I think will improve the abilities of the students more than preparing for exams.
Of course there are flaws in this system. How do we ensure teachers don't show favouritism, or allow personal bias to affect their judgement? Would unruly pupils who have no intention of doing well screw up performace of class-mates? How do we ensure all schools follow the same method of marking? Indepentent moderation could be key. External observers will provide anchors across the whole country, assessing in turn the teachers' assessments of the pupils. Records of pieces of classwork will show a general level, as would coursework.
Other things could be taken into account too. Punctuality, for instance, is something that an amazing number of people suck horrendously at, so why not give some small mark for how good students are at that? Team working similarly could be taken into account, though I think it would be of secondary importance than academic ability.
The success of this system would depend on the abolition of Leage Tables. Keeping them would only result in the problems we are currently faced with all over again, though it would be potentially being even more damaging - imagine three months of relentless stress in every lesson and you can see where I'm coming from.
I hope I have gone some way to persuading you that the current system is flawed, and this proposal would solve the issue.
Examination results really can make or break our lives. Screwing up just one exam can cause people to miss out on their chosen university, or university altogether in general, and it is that fear that hangs over anything from middlingto high achievers for a very long time, forcing people to neglect their social lives and happiness just for some exams. It is awful that so much rides on just a few hours work. The big education bosses seem to have forgotten that we are only children once, and it is far to valuable period of time to be wasted stricken by the spectre of examinations. I recognise that does sounds a bit Helen Lovejoy, but it is a fact: people have massive - justified - worries about the exam period.
Stress isn't the only factor, however. Taking a wider perspective, we are not taught to think, we are taught to pass exams. I feel it has reached the point where sat-down examinations are no longer the best way to assess education. The blame for this lies largely with the introduction of the School League Tables, which dumped a whole load more pressure on schools to perform: good exam results equals more money, which in theory should lead to even better exam results. This spiral increased until schools are forced to only think about how well students do in exams rather than their general development, a result of which is a very narrow skills base.
Perhaps the best example is languages. I study Spanish, predicted B, and can converse reasonably well on important topics like immigrate, science, poverty and a novel and a film. I do not, however, feel confident that I would be able to fend for myself if I were to be dumped unceremoniously in the mean streets of Madrid, instructed to intergrate with other Spaniards. It is telling that the Speaking portion of the exam is the smallest of all, a paltry 20% in comparison the the 80% for Reading, Writing and Listening combined. Speaking is by far the most important and difficult aspect of learning a language, and I cannot understand why it is neglected to such an extent.
Another example is English. I have no gripe with the A level course - I feel it is sufficiently streching and rewarding - instead it is the GCSE course that worries me. So many of my peers leave school at the end of year 11 with basic literary abilities, absolutely basical abilites like grammar, language usage, letter writing etc, and yet we are made to analyse poetry. First off, almost nobody enjoys this, and is generally seen (correctly) as useless as algaebra (incorrectly, morons!). It is likely that 90% will never read, or have to understand, a poem ever again, so why teach it?
I think I have thought of a solution. It has no doubt been mooted before, but I don't care, it seems reasonable enough to me. Firstly, exams as we know them should be scrapped, although coursework should stay. I propose teachers assess pupils across an extended period of time, 3 months, say, during which performance during lessons will be scrutinised. This has several benefits. Exams are a one-off, during which pupils can underperform drastically for various reasons, none the least the immense pressure, but this system will ensure their average attainment can be found more accurately. Secondly, since it is class-time that is being used, students will have an incentive to try as hard as they can, which I think will improve the abilities of the students more than preparing for exams.
Of course there are flaws in this system. How do we ensure teachers don't show favouritism, or allow personal bias to affect their judgement? Would unruly pupils who have no intention of doing well screw up performace of class-mates? How do we ensure all schools follow the same method of marking? Indepentent moderation could be key. External observers will provide anchors across the whole country, assessing in turn the teachers' assessments of the pupils. Records of pieces of classwork will show a general level, as would coursework.
Other things could be taken into account too. Punctuality, for instance, is something that an amazing number of people suck horrendously at, so why not give some small mark for how good students are at that? Team working similarly could be taken into account, though I think it would be of secondary importance than academic ability.
The success of this system would depend on the abolition of Leage Tables. Keeping them would only result in the problems we are currently faced with all over again, though it would be potentially being even more damaging - imagine three months of relentless stress in every lesson and you can see where I'm coming from.
I hope I have gone some way to persuading you that the current system is flawed, and this proposal would solve the issue.
Friday 30 April 2010
My Two Pennies on the Third Leaders' Debate
I woke up this morning surprised to see that the general concensus among the papers was that David Cameron was seen to have performed best in the third and final Leaders' debate, ahead of the frankly obvious winner, Nick Clegg, who completed a hat-trick of 'wins'. I wouldn't even go as far to put Cameron in second, Gordon Brown battled away like grizzled boxer and spoke sense, while Cameron just generally seemed clueless and unable to defend his party's policies.
Cameron derided Brown's economic policy as 'desperate stuff', yet was unable to say precisely why. Cameron had no response because he has precious little upstairs, thus resorting to such empty rhetoric. Similarly, when Clegg grilled him on his proposed immigration cap, asking him specifically, yes or no, if the cap would have had any effect on current immigration rates, and all Cameron could do was squirm and evade and bull about something else, anything to avoid saying the patently obvious 'no'. In contrast, the Lib Dems controversial immigrant amnesty was ably defended by Clegg. This was something I was unsure of the logic behind it, but it seems a sensible method of dealing with a problem that is already here, and the criticisms of the other two - that it would encourage people to seek asylum unfairly - are redundant because the Lib Dems' proposed tighter immigration policy would limit this effect, and it won't apply to anyone who arrives after the end of this calendar year.
Other issues where Clegg impressed was the banking crisis. Whether his proposals would be put into effect - I don't know whether the government has any influence over salaries - I can't say, but the Lib Dems' decision to put an end to the rediculous bonus culture seems like a positive approach. Furthermore, a division between 'high-street' and investment banking would avoid a meltdown as serious as the one we are currently suffering.
Another facet of Lib Dem policy that seemed questionable is the joining of the Euro, however after doing a bit of research earlier in the week I found no mention of a plan to join the Euro, something that Clegg denied yesterday: "No I'm not advocating entry to the Euro, and I'd only ever advocate it, by the way, if ever, if economic conditions were right...and it would have to be put to referendum anyway." While scrolling through the comments on a few of the Guardian articles it seems a few people are calling Clegg's position a lie, but neither the Lib Dem manifesto or Telegraph summary make any mention of entry to the Euro.
Last thoughts: Cameron - how can you trust a man with such a shiny chin? Gordon - during his days as Chancellor he did massive amount to alleviate child-poverty, and was incredibly successful. I can't help but feel he does have redeeming features. Clegg - wants to repeal the Digital Economy Bill, bravo.
Cameron derided Brown's economic policy as 'desperate stuff', yet was unable to say precisely why. Cameron had no response because he has precious little upstairs, thus resorting to such empty rhetoric. Similarly, when Clegg grilled him on his proposed immigration cap, asking him specifically, yes or no, if the cap would have had any effect on current immigration rates, and all Cameron could do was squirm and evade and bull about something else, anything to avoid saying the patently obvious 'no'. In contrast, the Lib Dems controversial immigrant amnesty was ably defended by Clegg. This was something I was unsure of the logic behind it, but it seems a sensible method of dealing with a problem that is already here, and the criticisms of the other two - that it would encourage people to seek asylum unfairly - are redundant because the Lib Dems' proposed tighter immigration policy would limit this effect, and it won't apply to anyone who arrives after the end of this calendar year.
Other issues where Clegg impressed was the banking crisis. Whether his proposals would be put into effect - I don't know whether the government has any influence over salaries - I can't say, but the Lib Dems' decision to put an end to the rediculous bonus culture seems like a positive approach. Furthermore, a division between 'high-street' and investment banking would avoid a meltdown as serious as the one we are currently suffering.
Another facet of Lib Dem policy that seemed questionable is the joining of the Euro, however after doing a bit of research earlier in the week I found no mention of a plan to join the Euro, something that Clegg denied yesterday: "No I'm not advocating entry to the Euro, and I'd only ever advocate it, by the way, if ever, if economic conditions were right...and it would have to be put to referendum anyway." While scrolling through the comments on a few of the Guardian articles it seems a few people are calling Clegg's position a lie, but neither the Lib Dem manifesto or Telegraph summary make any mention of entry to the Euro.
Last thoughts: Cameron - how can you trust a man with such a shiny chin? Gordon - during his days as Chancellor he did massive amount to alleviate child-poverty, and was incredibly successful. I can't help but feel he does have redeeming features. Clegg - wants to repeal the Digital Economy Bill, bravo.
Friday 16 April 2010
The Great Eccentrics: Stanley Unwin & Stuart Hall
Let me draw your attention to mssrs Stanley Unwin and Stuart Hall, two men who have an unparalleled grasp of the English language in its spoken form. Firstly Stuart Hall, a presenter/commentator, who seems to speak entirely as if scripted by the fellows behind the magnificent introductory speech by V in V For Vendetta. Perhaps most famous for this beauty during BBC Radio panel show Fighting Talk. How much better televised football would be these days if ITV or Sky let him have a crack at it. I guess some people simply are just too clever for their own good.
The second man, and the one who I'm going to spend the most time on, is Stanley Unwin, part-comedian, part-recording artist, and inventor of Unwinese. Unwinese is essentially gobbledegook, and it's basically just hilarious to listen to him speak it. I found out about him through 60's psychedelic classic Ogden's Nut Gone Flake, by The Small Faces, in which he bookends the (brilliant) songs with his language. I tried to find online what he actually says, but for once Google failed me, leading me to the assumption that no one has ever bothered to transcribe his marvellous spiel. Here goes. (Songs in brackets)
(Hapiness Stan) Are you all sitty comfy-bowl two-square on your botty? Then I'll begin. (Rollin' Over) Now of course like all real life experience stories this one begins once a polly-tighto, and Hapiness Stan whose life evolved in ephemeral coloured dreamy most, had his pure existance and his being in the deep-joy of the multicolour of the rain-bowls, oh yes, his homes are Victoriana Sharabold's, this is a four wheeled folloloped-pft-ft-pft-ft out the back-grove. Now as eve-duddest-deep aproachy, his eye on the moon, all time sometime deep-joy of a full moon scinty-lady dangly in the heavenly abode. But now only half, Oh blow your cool, man! he doodthisdeepthoughtcus (?) What is the folly of this half-dissapeary of the moony most? And as the light of the scinty-laden changed through timely most, stoppet still, and he did a deep-thoughtcus. What, absolutely smashing flakety he was. So gathering all behind in the hintermost he ploddy-ploddy foreward into the deep thundermould of the compligadden forest to sort'nt this one out matey. Where at mandythoughtcus, where at? Oh dear.
(The Hungry Intruder) Now after little lapse of time, Stan became deep-hungry in his tum-lode, oh, after all he struggly-trickly out several mile-lode, and anyone would suffer underthis, so suddenly he did a deep-thoughcus: out with his luncy-bag, just about to do a little nib-lode of his mincey-meaty when...(The Journey) And now the fly was overwhelming with this deep generosity of Stanley's give give give of the foodage because all I've {chomp chomp chomp} suffered the foodage, he looks at Stan and says, Is there anything I can reciproclow in doing the joy for the return for your generos- if you'll give me food and stuffy. Stan, I am looking for the other half of the moon and dangly, this is my folly, show me where the missing half of that moon. I don't know, said the flyrooturly, but I know someone who knows. If only I was big enough to transporty-most, I'd takee there my self - I would do this. And Stan, having the possessey power of the magicold, ah, standitover, rolley-up-the-sleevey, wave the hand hovelyhovvelyhovvelyhovvely and uttered these magic words: if all the flies were one fly, what a great enormous fly folloper that would bowl, and there, incredib- oh dear, hovveryhovvery! Now the fly recalls with these wordage, Not only will I transport them there but I will also hear the deep-joy of a songlode in your ear-drobes, that I will do.
(Mad John) And so, seaty-comfybowl, on the back of the most of this enormous buzzy most of this fly - vvvfffft they tooky off like an escaped velocy like the rocket floating into orbey. Now after floating high up, over the mounty, through the deep valley of that, for seven whole days they did a very soft and flat belly landing, if I may put it this way, where they landed - a tranquil beauty-spot before a deep thunder-mole of a forrey, like a fortress in the undergrope there it was, and the fly said it "I must leave you here" and he pointed here with his fly-type fingold - it was all feathery-feathery - it said, "Mad John," markedthee words, "he livet in a cave there in this deep forrey, and he will transpork for you not only the moon itself if you lookit, but the philosophy of life itself" And Stan had a mutual joy for this, and reach up and cuddly-most of this big fly, and very hard to embrace it (affectionate fly noises) mm mm kissy and the fly tickle-ee with his whiskers in his earlode, and off he went...
(Happy Days Toy Town) And so Stan walket towards the cave, and in his mind, markee word: Mad John. ffff deep-thoughtcus on this, all a trimlode, looking into the dark and peering into the backgrove of black in there, and then appeared Mad John, in fine fine foldy silken robes, all white haired, scinty-laden beard and dangly, cor, the beard must be fruity-four years old to grow it and grow it all nightlode, what. And he was glowing, with a friendly light, oh dear joy, and a voice full of the cockney cockney cockney, all joy of life livey and eminating from the cocklode of his heart-strings. Called to see ya, man, what's in your hangup, man? I waited seven whole days for ya! Not still worried about scinty-laden moon and dangly eh? Stan, hegedededege yes, thats why I sought'n you out here and tritlytritly how on the back of this fly you told me. And John, linket arms with him and walkey out stebber by stebber, and he pointed at the cockney fourfingold, there! up in the heavenly bode! What? Stan realised now which just struck him like a snaffaro blurdy which coming out now that he never thoughtcus before. As the sun rises in the eardy mordy, so the recall of the moon in the eve, ah, and he thought, hmm. And the fly had something extra special he thoughtcus to say to me if he wolde, and John looky-happy, and atractn his earnestly of his eyeboldes, straight nose to nose, eye to eye, both for it. Of course, I nearly forgot it, just you listen...song...So remember the very special words: happy daylung toilettownnewspaperchuckleysmileo. They all had a lovely turnout; nose came, huckleberrytwicklemyfingold, boy blue left his horn stuffing under the setee and brought his mellodrobe and freaked them all out, oh what a mind-blast! Jackie Jill, knees up mother brodie, oh what a joy of a trickly howthere. Oh I hope you turn out three-quarters half as lovely won't you wouldn't have any joy, stay cool won't you?
Fin.
I think this might be the most pointless thing I have ever done. Actually, I'm slightly dissapointed, going through it has revealed it to be less deep-joyfully whimsical that I thought it might be. It was also bloody impossible to transcribe, partly due to the recording and partly having to decipher words that aren't recognisable words.
Corrections in the comments, please.
The second man, and the one who I'm going to spend the most time on, is Stanley Unwin, part-comedian, part-recording artist, and inventor of Unwinese. Unwinese is essentially gobbledegook, and it's basically just hilarious to listen to him speak it. I found out about him through 60's psychedelic classic Ogden's Nut Gone Flake, by The Small Faces, in which he bookends the (brilliant) songs with his language. I tried to find online what he actually says, but for once Google failed me, leading me to the assumption that no one has ever bothered to transcribe his marvellous spiel. Here goes. (Songs in brackets)
(Hapiness Stan) Are you all sitty comfy-bowl two-square on your botty? Then I'll begin. (Rollin' Over) Now of course like all real life experience stories this one begins once a polly-tighto, and Hapiness Stan whose life evolved in ephemeral coloured dreamy most, had his pure existance and his being in the deep-joy of the multicolour of the rain-bowls, oh yes, his homes are Victoriana Sharabold's, this is a four wheeled folloloped-pft-ft-pft-ft out the back-grove. Now as eve-duddest-deep aproachy, his eye on the moon, all time sometime deep-joy of a full moon scinty-lady dangly in the heavenly abode. But now only half, Oh blow your cool, man! he doodthisdeepthoughtcus (?) What is the folly of this half-dissapeary of the moony most? And as the light of the scinty-laden changed through timely most, stoppet still, and he did a deep-thoughtcus. What, absolutely smashing flakety he was. So gathering all behind in the hintermost he ploddy-ploddy foreward into the deep thundermould of the compligadden forest to sort'nt this one out matey. Where at mandythoughtcus, where at? Oh dear.
(The Hungry Intruder) Now after little lapse of time, Stan became deep-hungry in his tum-lode, oh, after all he struggly-trickly out several mile-lode, and anyone would suffer underthis, so suddenly he did a deep-thoughcus: out with his luncy-bag, just about to do a little nib-lode of his mincey-meaty when...(The Journey) And now the fly was overwhelming with this deep generosity of Stanley's give give give of the foodage because all I've {chomp chomp chomp} suffered the foodage, he looks at Stan and says, Is there anything I can reciproclow in doing the joy for the return for your generos- if you'll give me food and stuffy. Stan, I am looking for the other half of the moon and dangly, this is my folly, show me where the missing half of that moon. I don't know, said the flyrooturly, but I know someone who knows. If only I was big enough to transporty-most, I'd takee there my self - I would do this. And Stan, having the possessey power of the magicold, ah, standitover, rolley-up-the-sleevey, wave the hand hovelyhovvelyhovvelyhovvely and uttered these magic words: if all the flies were one fly, what a great enormous fly folloper that would bowl, and there, incredib- oh dear, hovveryhovvery! Now the fly recalls with these wordage, Not only will I transport them there but I will also hear the deep-joy of a songlode in your ear-drobes, that I will do.
(Mad John) And so, seaty-comfybowl, on the back of the most of this enormous buzzy most of this fly - vvvfffft they tooky off like an escaped velocy like the rocket floating into orbey. Now after floating high up, over the mounty, through the deep valley of that, for seven whole days they did a very soft and flat belly landing, if I may put it this way, where they landed - a tranquil beauty-spot before a deep thunder-mole of a forrey, like a fortress in the undergrope there it was, and the fly said it "I must leave you here" and he pointed here with his fly-type fingold - it was all feathery-feathery - it said, "Mad John," markedthee words, "he livet in a cave there in this deep forrey, and he will transpork for you not only the moon itself if you lookit, but the philosophy of life itself" And Stan had a mutual joy for this, and reach up and cuddly-most of this big fly, and very hard to embrace it (affectionate fly noises) mm mm kissy and the fly tickle-ee with his whiskers in his earlode, and off he went...
(Happy Days Toy Town) And so Stan walket towards the cave, and in his mind, markee word: Mad John. ffff deep-thoughtcus on this, all a trimlode, looking into the dark and peering into the backgrove of black in there, and then appeared Mad John, in fine fine foldy silken robes, all white haired, scinty-laden beard and dangly, cor, the beard must be fruity-four years old to grow it and grow it all nightlode, what. And he was glowing, with a friendly light, oh dear joy, and a voice full of the cockney cockney cockney, all joy of life livey and eminating from the cocklode of his heart-strings. Called to see ya, man, what's in your hangup, man? I waited seven whole days for ya! Not still worried about scinty-laden moon and dangly eh? Stan, hegedededege yes, thats why I sought'n you out here and tritlytritly how on the back of this fly you told me. And John, linket arms with him and walkey out stebber by stebber, and he pointed at the cockney fourfingold, there! up in the heavenly bode! What? Stan realised now which just struck him like a snaffaro blurdy which coming out now that he never thoughtcus before. As the sun rises in the eardy mordy, so the recall of the moon in the eve, ah, and he thought, hmm. And the fly had something extra special he thoughtcus to say to me if he wolde, and John looky-happy, and atractn his earnestly of his eyeboldes, straight nose to nose, eye to eye, both for it. Of course, I nearly forgot it, just you listen...song...So remember the very special words: happy daylung toilettownnewspaperchuckleysmileo. They all had a lovely turnout; nose came, huckleberrytwicklemyfingold, boy blue left his horn stuffing under the setee and brought his mellodrobe and freaked them all out, oh what a mind-blast! Jackie Jill, knees up mother brodie, oh what a joy of a trickly howthere. Oh I hope you turn out three-quarters half as lovely won't you wouldn't have any joy, stay cool won't you?
Fin.
I think this might be the most pointless thing I have ever done. Actually, I'm slightly dissapointed, going through it has revealed it to be less deep-joyfully whimsical that I thought it might be. It was also bloody impossible to transcribe, partly due to the recording and partly having to decipher words that aren't recognisable words.
Corrections in the comments, please.
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