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.

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.

Fuck You, Lady Gaga

The new Lady Gaga single is out now, accompanied by a 10-minute video thats being heralded a the successor to Thriller. Two problems: firstly, the song, called "Telephone", sucks. The second, Thriller wasn't all the great in the first place.

Anyway, I've decided to make a list of songs about telephones that are better than "Telephone".

Telephone Lines - ELO
Telegraph Road - Dire Straits
Hanging on the Telephone - Blondie
Call Me - Blondie
Call Me Up - Chromeo
Bananaphone - Alistair Hendry

I think you're getting the picture. Basically every song about telephones is better than this piece o' crap.

Dishonourable mention: Gimme A Call - Tommy Reilly, for being the only one worse than Lady Gaga. Bloody Scottish.

Is Rhinestone Eyes Damon Albarn's Greatest Work?

The attentive among you may remember my blog on last summers jaunt to Hyde Park to see the penultimate gig Blur are ever likely to play, and it was brilliant. Cut to 2010 and the release of Plastic Beach, the latest and last Gorillaz album. It reviewed brilliantly, even though the 5* review from Q Magazine was written by the hated Dave Everley (happily he barely mentioned Rhinestone Eyes, confirming my view that he knows FA about music), so I bought it. Yeah that's right, an actual CD, remember them?

It arrived, I listened, I wasn't particularly impressed. I listened to it again, appreciated it slightly more, except for one song. Rhinestone Eyes. It's just brilliant. It sits four tracks in, by itself. Much has been made of the diverse list of collaborators, but Rhinestone Eyes is just Damon. There's no rapping to be found, just a gentle, far-off vocal and tasteful synths. Its all very melancholic, evocative of a time gone-by, nostalgic even, chock full of lines like "Your Rhinestone Eyes are like factories far away". And then there's the chorus, so simple yet so effective. I can't describe it to be honest.

But better than his Blur output? The other heavyweight Gorillaz tracks? Really? I'm just going to put this out there. Yes it is. The reason I love the Blur so much is mostly because of the Hyde Park gig - the songs just...lift. But stuck on a CD they feel cramped, none more so than Tender, and whilst it's not hard to imagine thousands singing in unison along with it, it nevertheless lacks the punch of the live version. Rhinestone Eyes doesn't have this problem, and can still hold its own, musically and lyrically.

Castles

Castles are effing brill. If I had the means, I would build one right now, then stage some epic battles and partially demolish it to give that authentic feel. They're so steeped in mystique and drama, relics of a bygone era, and have the power to capture the imagination more than pretty much anything, ever. Happily, England, Scotland and Wales are veritably littered with these ancient fortresses, so much so that it's fair to say Britain rules when it comes to castles. That's not to say other countries don't have them, oh no. France have some grand ones, though they tend to lean more to the fortified-chateau end of the spectrum, which I tend to disregard as superficial pomp. The Germans and Austrians are good too, although similar to the French theirs are more fortified houses, though the results can be the stuff of fairytales. Going East, the magnificent Bran Castle of Dracula fame is the best in Eastern-Europe, then much further East the Japanese have made some gorgeous ones.

May as well start with the one just down the road: Windsor Castle. The biggest? Possibly. The best-maintained? Absolutely. The coolest? Well...no. It's a bit to well-preserved, a bit tourist-y, and while the Long Walk looks epic beyond belief, it's a bit too cultivated, not surprising given the Queen lives there still, which is a bit boring. Much rather an powerful Lord of olde, reclusive, eccentric, and off-limits to the public. It's imagination that makes these things interesting, which brings me to Raglan Castle.

Now this thing is properly cool. Its more-or-less unheard of, with brutes like Warwick, Caernarfon and the aforementioned Windsor being the most recognised, but for my money this is what a proper castle looks like. Its crumbling perfectly. Somewhat dissapointingly it never saw action, more a marker of the wealth and power of a prominent lord, but I'm guessing it achieved that pretty spectacularly in its early-15th century hey-day. It's almost worth going to Wales for. Another great picture here.

Quickly now, a run-down of the other best British castles. Warwick Castle is a good 'un, in which Warwick the Kingmaker, the most badass of all nobles ever, imprisioned Edward IV for a while. Whether was actually used for defence I have no idea, though I wouldn't fancy trying to get past the double-gate thingy it has got going on.

Leeds Castle is undeniably the prettiest, surrounded 75% by a lake, and was the one-time humble abode of Henry VIII. It also has a maze, which are awesome, that can't be solved by the old I'll-keep-one-hand-on-the-wall-and-keep-walking method.

Perched on the top of mountain somewhere in the heart-land of Germany is the Schloss Neuschwanstein, which I think you'll agree looks damn cool, and damn haunted. It's not really a castle, but I'd imagine it'd be pretty hard to attack, not least because no one would want to go near the damn thing in the first place. As cool, if not cooler, is Burg Eltz, which looks none-more-dramatic with the dark forest looking around it. As an added bonus, the same family has lived there for thirty-generations. That's not too far off a millenium. I would love to meet them.

However, the Germanic castle to end all Germanic castles is Bran Castle, which is somewhat less-wholesome than its name might suggest. Dominating Romania, it's a little lumpy from some angles...well, most angles, but being the home of Vlad the Impaler gives it exhalted status. It's wonky structure makes it look a touch insane, as do the spooky tunnels down which hundeds met grisly deaths.

The best French one isn't even in France, it was built by Crusaders in Syria, and is perhaps the only one on this list that was involved in heavy fighting. Krak des Chevaliers is the hard-nut: despite being the stage for numerous pitched battles between the Crusaders and the Muslims, it's still standing even though it looks pretty-well worn out. The best pompous French chateau is the Chateau de Versailles, daftly near Paris. Credit where credits due, it is exceptionally grand and nearly bankrupted France during its construction, but they should have made it a bit meatier. That's the French for you, I guess.

Lastly we go to Japan. In typically Japanese fashion, their castles are incredibly beautiful, if a bit pansy, none more so than the Himeji Castle. It looks like it would fall over if caught in a light breeze, so it was lucky that battles never came close to troubling its manicured exterior.

So there it is. I'm a massive castle geek. They're amazing. I think I've just got enough energy to show you one last English beaut, Alnwick Castle (say: ANN-ick). You can thank this one for fighting off the Scandanavian hordes.

Uncharted

Right, so Uncharted 2 was the best game of last year, we all know that. Annoyingly, it appears Mass Effect 2 has upped the ante somewhat, so I've made a little list here of what Naughty Dog can do to regain that top spot.

1) Get a good storyline. The past two storylines have been functional if not particularly surprising, in fact I would go as far to say that without the brilliant characterisation it would be seen as bog-standard. At only one point during U2 was it not blatantly obvious where the plot was going to go next. Maybe there could be two opposing forces instead of the single horde of enemies, which brings me on to my next point...

2) More variety of enemies. In the whole game there were basically 6 types of baddy, two of which play a minor role, and feature three times at most. It's pretty monotonous, and needs a shake-up.

3)More open level design. Uncharted 2 was at its best when there were several option to take, be it tackle them head-on, excellently implemented stealth, or sneak into a better position before bringing the pain. Too often sneaking was scuppered by annoyingly position sentries.

4)Meatier weaponry. Nothing, bar the obligatory RPG/Grenade Launcher, really feels powerful. Guns, apparently, are pretty scary things, but there's no sense of this; the rifles have the potency of paint-ball guns, but the pistols are pretty good. Even the grenade explosions are pretty pathetic, with soldiers surviving even in close proximity. If meatier weapons mean more gore, then so be it, I want to do some damage.

5)Less obvious 'videogame' moments. Although admittedly rare, there were occasions when Uncharted lapsed out of laziness into standard turn-of-the-century fare, i.e retardedly tough enemies and boss fights. The uber-soldier at the end of the train was totally incongruous and interrupted the flow, and the final boss-fight was just pretty weak and out of character with the just-about-believable settings.

That'll do pig, that'll do.

List Of Films I Need To See Before October

Right, so my charms and wiley ways were enough to b(l)ag myself an offer from Southampton for BA Film & English, so I guess I better start watching some films. Here be a checklist of films, modern and classic, that I reckon I will need to have seen.

Citizen Kane   My diagnosis: Well that's the big one done. I don't think theres anything I could possibly say that hasn't already been said, so I won't even try.

2001: A Space Odessey My diagnosis: Momentous

Godfathers I & II My diagnosis: Will probably need re-watching (read: overrated?)

Schindler's List My diagnosis: Schindler's List makes you feel pretty awful about the holocaust jokes that you've no doubt cracked at some point. The images are haunting; the realisation that it is not snow falling from the sky, but human ash, and the girl in the red dress - powerful moment in a film with plenty.

Psycho
Vertigo  
My diagnosis: Why this is so highly feted I have no idea. The characters are insipid; the plot reasonably complex but no more so than that; the double-peak narrative is clumsy. Yes the vertigo effect is pretty neat, but this is not a good film, and certainly no where near to being one of the greatest ever. In other news, only three to go!

Die Hard  My diagnosis: It's easy to see why Die Hard is such an enduring favourite. The action is great, but I was surprised by the relationship between McClane and the cop; the dynamic was certainly interesting. Sadly it dipped into typical Hollywood schlock too often: the 'million-dollar deal man' was ill-judged, as was the random appearance at the end by Karl. The man was clearly dead. There is no way you survive being hanged for an hour.

Up My diagnosis: The best thing about this film is the 10-minute introduction that sets up Carl. It is perfect: it gives Carl the essential vulnerability and back-story that would otherwise have been difficult to cram in. The rest of the film takes this initial expository and keeps it as its beating heart. Pixar can do no wrong.

Pulp Fiction My diagnosis: Bad-ass, muthafuka.

Jackie Brown My diagnosis: Far from being the Tarantino classic that it is regularly billed as, Jackie Brown falls short of Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs thanks to re-hashed characters (did Tarantino really expect to get away with casting S.L.J. yet again as a smack-talking hard-ass, albeit this time devoid of any class?) and, frankly, a boring plot.

Silence of the Lambs
My diagnosis: Worthy of its reputation, likewise for the performance of Anthony Hopkins. Foster was less convincing, but still very good.

Harry Brown My diagnosis: Loses out to Gran Torino (see below) in the OAP-Vigilante tussle. Harry Brown himself is an excellent character, but the scumbags he kills are so far from being rational humans it is like watching an angry old man killing a load of angry animals.

Raging Bull My diagnosis: My oh my, Robert de Niro can really act.

Rocky

Moon My diagnosis: Bowie's in space!

Battleship Potemkin My diagnosis: Russian women were properly ugly. Good film though.

Trainspotting My diagnosis: The toilet scene is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. Doesn't quite live up to it status as Brit classic.

 Amelie

Enter The Dragon My diagnosis: I expected a rubbish story, but even the fight scenes were lame. At no point did I think, "Wow, that was cool", it was just boring, poorly acted, obviously scripted fights. The only redeeming feature is when I found afterwards that Bruce Lee kicked a guy so hard in the chest he broke his sternum and the arms of the guys behind that caught him. That's undeniably awesome, but even that didn't look particularly noteworthy while I was watching it.

Full Metal Jacket My diagnosis: Follows the The Deer Hunter format of a before/during Vietnam, but no after. Without this final segment the two parts seem isolated with little cohesion other than a few characters. Both parts by themselves, however, are entertaining stuff.

Casablanca
Dr. Strangelove  My diagnosis: Somehow funnier in theory than execution. It's clever - there are plenty of moments where you think 'I can see what they've done there' - but they just don't necesarily translate to laughs.

Taxi Driver Mr diagnosis: asuykdhjbfadya

Goodfellers
My diagnosis: Everything is great about this movie except the ending. What a let down.

Spinal Tap My diagnosis: As a satire of the hard-rock lifestyle it is note perfect, but as a comedy it simply isn't funny after the New Originals bit. Big dissapointment, this one.

Snatch My diagnosis: Propah fakkin' cockney like.

Gran Torino My diagnosis: Poignant, human, and Clint Eastwood