it's funny what can cheer you up isn't it? i mean, there are so many wonderful, heartening, warm-glow inducing things in the world: the news that your friend's long awaited baby has arrived, being given an extra couple of slices of chorizo by the cheery lady who made your lunchtime sandwich, an amusing anecdote in David Niven's autobiography. any of these things could be enough to stop you feeling sorry for yourself and remind you of the quixotic joy of life here on earth.
so, it is a sad reflection of the depths my black, heathen, smug-bastard soul has sunk to, that it was none of these things that made stop my self-absorbed strop.
it was Richard Dawkins being rude to creationists.
70 life-enhancing minutes of it. priceless. via the Guardian
as bill hicks would say, sit down and strap in.
you can see talk he actually gave here but that's just a boring mix of rational philosophy and science. nowhere near as fun as watching as his responses become terser and terser till he can eventually stand it no more and transmogrifies into a giant, raging, axe-wielding yeti and slaughters half of lynchburg in a bewildering orgy of atheistic destruction.
fantastic.
i was further gladdened by the cursory research i did into Liberty University, the source of all these imaginary-friend sharing lunatics. check out their statement of purpose. aside from some jolly reasonable stuff about contributing to a knowledge and understanding of other cultures, it contains this gem:
2. Promote an understanding of the Western tradition and the diverse elements of American cultural history, especially the importance of the individual in maintaining democratic and free market processes.
yeah, i remember Jesus being really hot on the free-market.
Matthew 12 vs 34: "Jesus sat down with the temple money changers and discussed the possibility of increasing their margin by introducing a traded exchange for sacrificial currency and perhaps diversifying their portfolio to include sacrificial property."
this venerable institution was setup by none other than Jerry Falwell, baptist bible-thumper extraordinaire. after the September 11 attacks he came out with the now classic, "I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen."
thanks jerry. we are feeling the love.
one of the other purposes of this bastion of educational rigour has been to provide academic justification for intelligent design. and they even have some "3000 year old" dinosaur (or as they call them: dragon) fossils dug up by this joker to help prove their point. to give you an idea of the strength of his argument, here's a sample quote:
"There is just no way that the theory of evolution can be reconciled with the truth of creation as recorded in the Bible."
well that's that dealt with then.
so yes, i'm a lot happier now. there's nothing like a load of intelligent, educated people spending millions of pounds, willfully disregarding logic and the accumulated knowledge of the panoply of human scientific endeavour in order to create a scientific basis for a bronze age creation myth they had the dumb luck to be brought up believing, having the piss ripped out of them to put a smile on my face.
hurrah!
now coffee...
Tuesday 23 January 2007
Monday 22 January 2007
still grumpy...
well wrap me in magnesium foil and set fire to me with a blowtorch if i am not the grumpiest bastard alive. i have been moping around since my last post making H's life hell and generally finding the glass not just half empty, but with the wrong pissing stuff in it to start off with so take it back and give it to someone who gives a haemorrhaging fuck. the reason for this stream of super-heated, petulant man-bile? anyone? bueller? exactly. nothing. not the slightest genuine ripple in the smooth-flowing stream that is my life. and yet. and yet.
i've been tagged to tell you 5 things you probably didn't know about me and i will once i've calmed down enough to type past the glowing red mist that currently envelopes me. however, in the meantime, i will treat you all to 5 things that have absolutely made my blood boil last week:
1. these 3 prematurely louche, denim-ridden cock monkeys were about 14 weeks old. dressed to a man as if they were speed-tottin', hard-livin', groupie-fuckin' roadies with no conception of anything beyond summer 1982, they were walking down regent street in a manner that suggested their band had just scored a 24 date world tour supporting the Ramones. feet at 90 degrees to each other. shoulders rolling like someone with dentures eating a caramel baguette. conversation so drawn out that any normal person would have had to have recorded it and then replayed it at twice the speed in order to catch anything vaguely intelligible, let alone comprehensible.
then they went into macdonald's. and one of them's mum rang. presumably to remind him to drink his breast milk. god i hated them. so much i could hardly hold the phone steady as i chased them down the street.
2. Ruth Kelly. i mean. really. never mind the fact she looks like henry kelly's lesbian sister, this woman is responsible for our govt's flagship made-up Dept for Communities and Local Govt. to quote from the number 10 website: "DCLG will be the successor department to the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister (that's the one they had to take back off John "Moronic Fat Twat" Prescott for being an incomprehensible philandering knob-jockey). It is an expanded department with a powerful new remit to promote community cohesion and equality." the irony of her being a member of cartoon-villain catholic sect Opus Dei was presumably lost on our dear leader when he gave her the job, seeing as Opus Dei are as much about promoting ecumenical understanding and community cohesion as they are about handing out free condoms and smoking crack. now she's undermining some pretty reasonable legislation on gay equality by lobbying for her catholic chums to be exempt from bits of it they don't like. THE POINT OF EQUALITY LEGISLATION IS THAT EVERYONE HAS TO ABIDE BY IT OR THEY'RE BEING DISCRIMINATORY YOU CLUELESS HARPY. AND YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LET YOUR PERSONAL RELIGIOUS VIEWS EFFECT THE IMPLEMENTATION OF GOVT POLICY. aaarrrgh. matron! bring me laudanum, a pint of absinthe and an illustrated copy of the Da Vinci Code.
3. anyone living in London who complains about it being cold. if you are cold in london, either you are not wearing enough clothes or you're dying slowly of blood loss. with 10 million ppl all smoking marmoset and cranberry frappacinos, carrying round their own personal patio heaters and burning 4x4s to keep warm, even on the rare occasions when some vaguely less than warm air heads our way, it's still only about as cold as a chain-store coffee about 30 seconds after you get it. shut up.
4. the coaching Jade Goody received for her CBB exit interview. yes i know, but by this point my rage was such that i was deliberately seeking out sources of annoyance in order to fuel my fires of hate. i am not so naive that i think the whole thing isn't a massive pile of hastily pre-arranged cock, but at least, C4, try and maintain the illusion. try and carry out the whole thing with a teensy amount of skill or forethought. remind the bigoted, kebab-flashing bimbo you're exploiting to not start sentences with "when they told me, i mean when i just saw..." or edit it better. or just fuck off.
5. my inability to write blog posts i am in anyway happy with.
there. i feel better now. oh. no i don't. grrr.
i've been tagged to tell you 5 things you probably didn't know about me and i will once i've calmed down enough to type past the glowing red mist that currently envelopes me. however, in the meantime, i will treat you all to 5 things that have absolutely made my blood boil last week:
1. these 3 prematurely louche, denim-ridden cock monkeys were about 14 weeks old. dressed to a man as if they were speed-tottin', hard-livin', groupie-fuckin' roadies with no conception of anything beyond summer 1982, they were walking down regent street in a manner that suggested their band had just scored a 24 date world tour supporting the Ramones. feet at 90 degrees to each other. shoulders rolling like someone with dentures eating a caramel baguette. conversation so drawn out that any normal person would have had to have recorded it and then replayed it at twice the speed in order to catch anything vaguely intelligible, let alone comprehensible.
then they went into macdonald's. and one of them's mum rang. presumably to remind him to drink his breast milk. god i hated them. so much i could hardly hold the phone steady as i chased them down the street.
2. Ruth Kelly. i mean. really. never mind the fact she looks like henry kelly's lesbian sister, this woman is responsible for our govt's flagship made-up Dept for Communities and Local Govt. to quote from the number 10 website: "DCLG will be the successor department to the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister (that's the one they had to take back off John "Moronic Fat Twat" Prescott for being an incomprehensible philandering knob-jockey). It is an expanded department with a powerful new remit to promote community cohesion and equality." the irony of her being a member of cartoon-villain catholic sect Opus Dei was presumably lost on our dear leader when he gave her the job, seeing as Opus Dei are as much about promoting ecumenical understanding and community cohesion as they are about handing out free condoms and smoking crack. now she's undermining some pretty reasonable legislation on gay equality by lobbying for her catholic chums to be exempt from bits of it they don't like. THE POINT OF EQUALITY LEGISLATION IS THAT EVERYONE HAS TO ABIDE BY IT OR THEY'RE BEING DISCRIMINATORY YOU CLUELESS HARPY. AND YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LET YOUR PERSONAL RELIGIOUS VIEWS EFFECT THE IMPLEMENTATION OF GOVT POLICY. aaarrrgh. matron! bring me laudanum, a pint of absinthe and an illustrated copy of the Da Vinci Code.
3. anyone living in London who complains about it being cold. if you are cold in london, either you are not wearing enough clothes or you're dying slowly of blood loss. with 10 million ppl all smoking marmoset and cranberry frappacinos, carrying round their own personal patio heaters and burning 4x4s to keep warm, even on the rare occasions when some vaguely less than warm air heads our way, it's still only about as cold as a chain-store coffee about 30 seconds after you get it. shut up.
4. the coaching Jade Goody received for her CBB exit interview. yes i know, but by this point my rage was such that i was deliberately seeking out sources of annoyance in order to fuel my fires of hate. i am not so naive that i think the whole thing isn't a massive pile of hastily pre-arranged cock, but at least, C4, try and maintain the illusion. try and carry out the whole thing with a teensy amount of skill or forethought. remind the bigoted, kebab-flashing bimbo you're exploiting to not start sentences with "when they told me, i mean when i just saw..." or edit it better. or just fuck off.
5. my inability to write blog posts i am in anyway happy with.
there. i feel better now. oh. no i don't. grrr.
Thursday 18 January 2007
big, hairy arsecakes.
today, i am powerful with the grumpy side of the force. fear my peevishness. however, H has put a smile on my face by doing an excellent impression of dennis the menace given female form and promoted to wicked witch of the south-east.
check these puppies out:
for the record, she has asked that her hair is not included in order that any girls reading are not instantly driven into a frenzy of jealousy that casues them to damage their computers. in some way.
anyway, i'm so angry i nearly did an overly long and doubtless unnecessary post about the deeply unfunny slabrity big brother racism controversy. thankfully (for you that is dear reader), as i do so often in these situations, it thought, "what would linda smith do?" and the answer was painfully obvious.
she once said: "i don't really want to talk about jeffrey archer because i don't want to give him the oxygen of publicity. in fact, i'm not really certain i'm happy with him having the oxygen of oxygen."
this sums up my feelings on the whole matter so well, that i am relieved from commenting further.
it does, however, suggest an incredibly satisfying solution to the whole affair.
check these puppies out:
for the record, she has asked that her hair is not included in order that any girls reading are not instantly driven into a frenzy of jealousy that casues them to damage their computers. in some way.
anyway, i'm so angry i nearly did an overly long and doubtless unnecessary post about the deeply unfunny slabrity big brother racism controversy. thankfully (for you that is dear reader), as i do so often in these situations, it thought, "what would linda smith do?" and the answer was painfully obvious.
she once said: "i don't really want to talk about jeffrey archer because i don't want to give him the oxygen of publicity. in fact, i'm not really certain i'm happy with him having the oxygen of oxygen."
this sums up my feelings on the whole matter so well, that i am relieved from commenting further.
it does, however, suggest an incredibly satisfying solution to the whole affair.
Tuesday 16 January 2007
i'm not angry - you're just thick
chris (to printer):
mutter...come on you crappy thing. your mother was telex.
printer (cheerfully): chunter chunter printy noise printy noise collate collate
user (getting up and walking over at least 3 km from far side of the office):
is this printer not working?
chris (to user):
why? can't you print to it?
user (with expression that suggests his poor brain might just explode from the pressure of all this conversation):
i don't know.
chris (with impressively straight face):
have you tried printing to it?
user (he's going to cry soon i can tell):
no.
chris (who can see where this is going and is slowly reaching for a LART):
so why do you think you can't print to it?
user (picking up on the "if you're being as dumb as i think you are i am going to be mildly withering" vibes, meekly, and with annoying AQI.):
because you're standing here?
chris (admirably holding back the images of violence and office-based slaughter):
i am doing some printing.
grrr. twitch. grrrr
mutter...come on you crappy thing. your mother was telex.
printer (cheerfully): chunter chunter printy noise printy noise collate collate
user (getting up and walking over at least 3 km from far side of the office):
is this printer not working?
chris (to user):
why? can't you print to it?
user (with expression that suggests his poor brain might just explode from the pressure of all this conversation):
i don't know.
chris (with impressively straight face):
have you tried printing to it?
user (he's going to cry soon i can tell):
no.
chris (who can see where this is going and is slowly reaching for a LART):
so why do you think you can't print to it?
user (picking up on the "if you're being as dumb as i think you are i am going to be mildly withering" vibes, meekly, and with annoying AQI.):
because you're standing here?
chris (admirably holding back the images of violence and office-based slaughter):
i am doing some printing.
grrr. twitch. grrrr
Puffin Chunks...mmm
today's post is really a thinly veiled and unnecessary attempt to boost BBC DVD sales. If you never heard 15 Storeys High on radio4, then there was absolutely no chance of you having seen it on telly, due to the BBC's policy of hiding anything with an microgram of originality between repeats of FUCKING COUPLING WITH JACK KILL-ME-NOW DAVENPORT (this might not be it's real name - i forget) and programmes for schools.
Apparently, the corporation in it's inestimable wisdom has finally scheduled both series to be released on the 19th Feb 07. which is lucky for them, cos what they don't know is my office window is the perfect sniper's nest for their building. so commissioning editors and schedulers beware. i am watching you.
and i have a can of blue rat to hand.
Monday 15 January 2007
time for an admission
i am about as far as you can get from the stereotypical image of the football-shirted, lager-spilling, monomaniacal sports fan as it is possible for me to get, without actively wearing a ball-gown with "i really hate sport" printed on it.
my sporting prowess can be summed up in this photograph:
which will have any of you familiar with the game of cricket crying into your MCC coaching manuals and casting aspersions about me "batting for the other side".
i am fine with this. but i love sport. not just some sports, but sport. from late-night thai-boxing on espn to the UK Windsurfing Championships from Windermere. even sports i think are rubbish like golf. i love it.
now this is something of an admission given H's attitude to sport (if it hates her - she's going to hate it right back). but it's the whole "triumph of human endeavour" thing that gets me every time.
it doesn't matter if it's 2 OAP's trying get a lop-sided black orb marginally closer to small white ball than each other, or 2 teams of brain-dead jocks trying to get a ball into some brightly coloured advertising space at either end of a field. if it matters to them - it can matter to me.
so it was with great pleasure, with H out of the house yesterday afternoon, that i sat down to indulge, my 2 guiltiest pleasures. yes, the 2 sports that other sports would push into a corner and laugh at with pointy fingers and would then have a heart-attack if they tried to run away: darts and snooker
and was rewarded with an unbelievably exciting afternoon's entertainment.
H laughed at my joy. yes. i am that sad.
my sporting prowess can be summed up in this photograph:
which will have any of you familiar with the game of cricket crying into your MCC coaching manuals and casting aspersions about me "batting for the other side".
i am fine with this. but i love sport. not just some sports, but sport. from late-night thai-boxing on espn to the UK Windsurfing Championships from Windermere. even sports i think are rubbish like golf. i love it.
now this is something of an admission given H's attitude to sport (if it hates her - she's going to hate it right back). but it's the whole "triumph of human endeavour" thing that gets me every time.
it doesn't matter if it's 2 OAP's trying get a lop-sided black orb marginally closer to small white ball than each other, or 2 teams of brain-dead jocks trying to get a ball into some brightly coloured advertising space at either end of a field. if it matters to them - it can matter to me.
so it was with great pleasure, with H out of the house yesterday afternoon, that i sat down to indulge, my 2 guiltiest pleasures. yes, the 2 sports that other sports would push into a corner and laugh at with pointy fingers and would then have a heart-attack if they tried to run away: darts and snooker
and was rewarded with an unbelievably exciting afternoon's entertainment.
H laughed at my joy. yes. i am that sad.
Saturday 13 January 2007
and now, for my next trick....
ahh, the safe paralysis of indecision. it's that difficult second post you see. which of a billion directions to take? and, instead of the tawdry scrabble for ideas that will doubtless characterise my 2000th post, my mind is leaping between options like a dubious, thin-faced fairground worker between tea-cups on a waltzer.
initally my seething outrage at this speech by our dear leader seemed like a good way to go, but was quickly discarded as too way too political/dull.
then, a random conversation last night drew me towards the ukulele orchestra of great britain who are nowhere near as famous as people as witty and skillful as they are should be (even for a jokey covers act). but ultimately there's not much you can say apart from "check these guys out - they're skill" and i seem to have just done that.
so i was forced to head on, deeper in to the tangenital recesses of my mind. which, duly came up with the fact that at some stage i need to do a meet the family post. but i'm enjoying the paper-thin sense of mystery for now and there's plenty of time for all that.
then, salvation arrived in the form of adrian, solveig and, of course, the ever fashionable freyja, who came over for lunch today and gave me plenty of tasty food for thought. H and I are not yet "babied up", but increasing numbers of our friends are (interestingly coinciding with them developing a hitherto unexplored interest in blogging) and this has inevitably led to some shifts in everyone's relationships. for years, the social currency of my friendships has been the drunken, rambling, late night conversation, often after a club or some such music-heavy, conversation-light entertainment. you know the sort of thing - somewhere between:
"ish fickin great to see you, man. you're my mate, yeah. s'really good to see you."
(repeat ad infinitum, occasionally throwing in a reference to the previous night's music)
and
"i think what Perec was trying emphasise was the richness of human existance evident even within the banal, bourgeois, confines of a Paris apartment block, yer cnut"
(veer wildy between highbrow erudtion and scatological abuse)
and then, once kids come along, you have to come up with a whole new set of social situations to get the love, admiration and sense of self-satifaction when ppl laugh at your jokes, you previously regarded as yours by right. cos babies and warehouse parties just don't mix. of course, the more organised ones amongst us started this process early and if you've actually got kids i think hormones and playgroups just take care of the whole thing for you.
but, if you're a bit rubbish like me, it comes as a massive relief to remember that friendships forged in the white-hot crucible of the fashionable dance music scene are just as rewarding in the warm afterglow of a shared meal and a walk round the park with the little'un. ultimately, having children only puts time-constraints in the way of your friendships, it's not a brain-transplant or anything and that's something us smug, childless, dinkies would do well to remember.
but if any of you tell me "of course, you've got all this to look forward to." i will have you fucking killed.
which they didn't, and i love them for it.
so there. that was pretty long for a second post and just in case you got bored halfway through, your reward is this mind-boggling fantasic clip, also from Jools Hollands show, that H insisted i put in:
thangyewvermuch, goodnight.
initally my seething outrage at this speech by our dear leader seemed like a good way to go, but was quickly discarded as too way too political/dull.
then, a random conversation last night drew me towards the ukulele orchestra of great britain who are nowhere near as famous as people as witty and skillful as they are should be (even for a jokey covers act). but ultimately there's not much you can say apart from "check these guys out - they're skill" and i seem to have just done that.
so i was forced to head on, deeper in to the tangenital recesses of my mind. which, duly came up with the fact that at some stage i need to do a meet the family post. but i'm enjoying the paper-thin sense of mystery for now and there's plenty of time for all that.
then, salvation arrived in the form of adrian, solveig and, of course, the ever fashionable freyja, who came over for lunch today and gave me plenty of tasty food for thought. H and I are not yet "babied up", but increasing numbers of our friends are (interestingly coinciding with them developing a hitherto unexplored interest in blogging) and this has inevitably led to some shifts in everyone's relationships. for years, the social currency of my friendships has been the drunken, rambling, late night conversation, often after a club or some such music-heavy, conversation-light entertainment. you know the sort of thing - somewhere between:
"ish fickin great to see you, man. you're my mate, yeah. s'really good to see you."
(repeat ad infinitum, occasionally throwing in a reference to the previous night's music)
and
"i think what Perec was trying emphasise was the richness of human existance evident even within the banal, bourgeois, confines of a Paris apartment block, yer cnut"
(veer wildy between highbrow erudtion and scatological abuse)
and then, once kids come along, you have to come up with a whole new set of social situations to get the love, admiration and sense of self-satifaction when ppl laugh at your jokes, you previously regarded as yours by right. cos babies and warehouse parties just don't mix. of course, the more organised ones amongst us started this process early and if you've actually got kids i think hormones and playgroups just take care of the whole thing for you.
but, if you're a bit rubbish like me, it comes as a massive relief to remember that friendships forged in the white-hot crucible of the fashionable dance music scene are just as rewarding in the warm afterglow of a shared meal and a walk round the park with the little'un. ultimately, having children only puts time-constraints in the way of your friendships, it's not a brain-transplant or anything and that's something us smug, childless, dinkies would do well to remember.
but if any of you tell me "of course, you've got all this to look forward to." i will have you fucking killed.
which they didn't, and i love them for it.
so there. that was pretty long for a second post and just in case you got bored halfway through, your reward is this mind-boggling fantasic clip, also from Jools Hollands show, that H insisted i put in:
thangyewvermuch, goodnight.
Thursday 11 January 2007
well Chris, here are the keys to your shiny new blog...
*click*
hmmm. bit dark in here. still, once we've got the place decorated it'll be quite nice, i think. have to rip out all this naff 70's html tho. smells of chinese food and dog wee. i think ikea have got a formatting sale on. it'll look like everyone else's blog, but at least it's cheap and re-sale value is so important these days.
anyway, hello. this is where it starts. bloggety-bloggety-blog-blog. it's been coming for a while, if i'm honest. if you can't beat 'em, bitch about them on your own blog that's what i say. there'll be tears, there'll be wry observations, there'll be coruscating satire, but for now there'll just be a cup of earl grey and some supper for the lovely H who'll be home soon and'll need sustenance. So i'll leave you with:
which cheered me up no end when i found it the other day and say hello and goodnight.
*click*
/me bangs his head on a headline banner on the way out.
hmmm. bit dark in here. still, once we've got the place decorated it'll be quite nice, i think. have to rip out all this naff 70's html tho. smells of chinese food and dog wee. i think ikea have got a formatting sale on. it'll look like everyone else's blog, but at least it's cheap and re-sale value is so important these days.
anyway, hello. this is where it starts. bloggety-bloggety-blog-blog. it's been coming for a while, if i'm honest. if you can't beat 'em, bitch about them on your own blog that's what i say. there'll be tears, there'll be wry observations, there'll be coruscating satire, but for now there'll just be a cup of earl grey and some supper for the lovely H who'll be home soon and'll need sustenance. So i'll leave you with:
which cheered me up no end when i found it the other day and say hello and goodnight.
*click*
/me bangs his head on a headline banner on the way out.
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