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.

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

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!

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.

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.