I hate them both, Bush and Bin-Laden. Add to them those who revel in the hell the Bush-Laden double act are both raising: The opportunist unscrupulous criminals who mindlessly loot and kidnap and bomb- killing innocents more than anyone else.
There's someting wrong in how humanity has evolved, it seems the psychopatic bastards seem to rise to the top in most societies. Those who seek power most are the ones most unfit to have it.
Shameful so shameful. It's like a test. How bad are the worst? Would the most obviously blameless and actively caring amongst us be coldly murdered?
Margaret Hasan, we are all aware of is/was an exceptional person in so may respects, she is a woman upon many of the most vulnerable depended and if she really has been killed then there is a terrible poison in Iraq. It's hard to accept people can be corrupted to such an extent due to the war as inhumane, illegal and botched as it is; people cannot switch like this. To me it's like there is a latent sickness that seems to have had an outlet. Of course, it's not just in Iraq, it must be something inside a proportion people all over the world that society is blind to and lets fester as it ticks along
I can't make sense of it as hard as I try. I hope the family and friends find some peace.
Margaret Hasan, Margaret Hasan, Margaret Hasan- don't forget her name, she's more than fading electron beams on a TV screen.
Robert Fisk met her:
http://www.commondreams.org/views04/1020-01.htm
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
How to mobilise culture, dear.
You know the Prodigy video for their tune "Fire Starter", well it was pretty cool and got the kids going. However what if there was something more sinister at work in the video than some geezer dancing wildly with an equally mad haircut and piercings?
Right at the end of the video after much exertion he produces a menacing-type expression turns and walks away, his job is done -- whataguy! All very good and youth-friendly.
Now what if that same scenario was replaced by him doing all the same wild stuff but defying all our expectations of credibility at the end when walking away? His final look at the camera could be a cheesy smile and wink like you would expect in a washing powder commercial or variety act.
When his shoes come into shot they could be replaced by a pair of those fluffy slippers with the cutesy animal face (they're mysteriously popular you know). Somehow the initial vibe would be lost. The video wouldn't go with the song. A fierce tune may become one of those comedy novelty records a la Spitting Image.
It could confuse the minds of people likely to buy the record: “Prodigy, they're cool right? That bit in the video must be some cool postmodernist (at last I've used that word) irony thing, you know just like those style mags say, metrosexual and all that.”
“Ha Ha great one, Prodigy are even cooler than before, for I am now enjoying them at more levels. All part of life's rich tapestry...blah , blah.” There are those who would think “sod it those Prodigy peeps just aren't part of the underground no more, I'm going to Virgin Megafabstore to buy Goldie's CD.”
Whatever the case there'll be questions resulting from the video, and it will be beyond the realms of which piercing hurt most. Having taken refuge in nice comfortable cutting edge Goldie a collective sigh of relief is breathed. Then there he is performing on Top of the Pops the hottest star of the moment, his obvious talent shines through like a really shiny thing, everyone enjoys.
Without warning, halfway through Goldie's thing a troupe of grandmas wearing floral attire like it was going out of fashion (literally) stride purposefully on stage. Forming a line behind the artiste they pause for a moment surveying the mouth-gapey scene around them, it's almost too obvious -- they know what they have to do.
In unison they move their arms in a fashion that TV's exercise maestro Mr Motivator dictates for the over 60's. They move their legs in a precarious way but everything they do is gentle. It goes a bit awry when they falteringly attempt to moonwalk, but nonetheless "this is fun isn't it Doris?" looks are exchanged.
However Goldie's facial muscles have not manipulated themselves in the same way as the dears. There's not even a trace of Doris in there. Instead they have manipulated themselves to display confusion and professional calmness (of sorts). Any winning smile he attempted to produce was again suppressed by confusion and much head-shaking.
At the end of his set one of the old ladies approaches Goldie and a faint "we're going for a cuppa, would you like to join us" has been caught on mic. Before he could give an answer she led him away by the hand. The camera seemed to be lingering on him for ages. He longed to swipe his hand away but that would be bad PR. Soon Goldie was to realise he was glad that he joined the old ladies: for he needed to see what he saw...
Meanwhile all was going smoothly for a while in culture land; TV's regular Punch & Judy double act, called Richard & Judy, were still making effortless links and stuff. Then the Hotel Babylon incident happened.
Jay-Z and Dr Dre were being interviewed by Danni Behr. Then a Tim Westwood style phone-in was put into operation. Jay-Z and Dre were paid respects whilst the Tunbridge Wells massive were given mentions. In the middle of this, a soft voice said hello to Dr Dre and Jay-Z and went on to say she loved all their ballads.
"We don't do ballads lady""Oh well, I do still like you boys""Err, OK keep takin' the medication""Oh I will Mr Dre, thank you for the advice""No problem."With that it was time to entertain the crowd. Jay-Z glided to the mic, proudly displaying his Torso to the laydeez. The crowd could have been implanted with the same device as Oprah's lot. They screamed until they were on the verge of hyperventilating.
"Nice" thought Jay-Z whilst Dre was aching to hit them with his impressive DJ skills. He cued and played an Ohio Players record but some "when I'm cleaning windows" shit was happening. He checked the label, yup Ohio Players.
He played his other stuff but his mind was a buzz with "It's a long way to Tipperary" and the "ha Ha ha Ha" of the laughing policeman. He felt his carefully crafted credibility unravelling. Meanwhile Jay-Z, hit the audience with one-liners about the situation. They loved it. He could have carried on for ages.
Dre had given up, but it was still great TV. While he sat in the shadows, an old lady appeared and slid in a DAT and activated the machine with what appeared to be rehearsed efficiency. It was a medley of beefed up old-time melodies. Another old lady walked on stage to confront Jay-Z. She was wearing seaside shades and Jay-Z just had to laugh in a bemused amused way.
Unfortunately she started battle-rapping in a surprisingly proficient and aggressive manner. Her Jay-Z put-downs were good, too good. The audience was crying with laughter. Her risky references to Jay-Z's chequered past were ruthless.
As the novelty was exploding before him, Jay had to collect his thoughts. He was being humiliated. If he hit her that would be yet another court case- and he'd never live down hitting a 70 year old.
His smile strained as he realised he had no option but to battle rap whilst being accompanied by a bastardised "Roll Out The Barrel." He rapped about old people and incontinence pads but he just didn't have the bite his opponent did. She knew his past as sprayed in the media, her jibes were specific to him. Jay-Z had never seen her in his life and could not focus his attack on her, only on oldies. In a word he lost.
It was media sensation time. In the news, in the arts programs, on comedy shows and, well anywhere that the producers had run out of ideas and needed something to create guaranteed interest.
All kinds of angles were found, even serious ones, such as Panorama's: "Old people and society -- a misunderstood relationship?" There was a crazy no time to rewind feeling as the lady in the seaside shades became the topic of serious conjecture and old Jay-Z had become a figure of fun. Not even Dre would touch him. Jay-Z knew what he had to do: to shuffle off and do a bit of re-inventing. He knew that MC Hammer was the key for what could go wrong, he therefore decided he would resort to using his brain.
Old ladies were springing up everywhere, even across the Atlantic. Their sabotage was becoming more and more inventive. Their infrequent and erratic appearances added more spice to their activities. TV dudes hoped it would be their shows that would be targeted; the publicity would be something to savour. The upshot was that youth culture (and in many cases middle-aged culture) had to take themselves less seriously. Hype was now hollow and was seen as setting yourself up for a fall (White Stripes and Oasis were losing weight through worry). Simply put, it was a content over style thing and Jay-Z realised it.
His come-back didn't sink, and made good progress. His lyrics were original, his flow new and his attitude was now really “real" not just real on vinyl. Culture had got a fucking move on.
Goldie knew what was going on. An angel was smiling on him the day he was led away by the old dear. He was taken to a school gym which the ladies had hired for the evening. There he saw, lined up neatly in rows, a crack squad of senior citizens. On each of their floral uniforms there was a badge emblazoned with the words "Cut the cultural crap. It really is shocking you know."
Very little was said but he knew the score anyway. Graciously he accepted the tea and biccies. Whilst gasping at an intricately woven teacosy, he felt inspired. No, not by the teacosy, but by the way they had turned their status as the ultimate social pariahs on its head whilst helping their cause. Shit, he didn't even mind when one of them asked if he had left Blue Peter yet!
http://www.hamusutaa.net/acen01-2/cool-grandma-2.jpg
Right at the end of the video after much exertion he produces a menacing-type expression turns and walks away, his job is done -- whataguy! All very good and youth-friendly.
Now what if that same scenario was replaced by him doing all the same wild stuff but defying all our expectations of credibility at the end when walking away? His final look at the camera could be a cheesy smile and wink like you would expect in a washing powder commercial or variety act.
When his shoes come into shot they could be replaced by a pair of those fluffy slippers with the cutesy animal face (they're mysteriously popular you know). Somehow the initial vibe would be lost. The video wouldn't go with the song. A fierce tune may become one of those comedy novelty records a la Spitting Image.
It could confuse the minds of people likely to buy the record: “Prodigy, they're cool right? That bit in the video must be some cool postmodernist (at last I've used that word) irony thing, you know just like those style mags say, metrosexual and all that.”
“Ha Ha great one, Prodigy are even cooler than before, for I am now enjoying them at more levels. All part of life's rich tapestry...blah , blah.” There are those who would think “sod it those Prodigy peeps just aren't part of the underground no more, I'm going to Virgin Megafabstore to buy Goldie's CD.”
Whatever the case there'll be questions resulting from the video, and it will be beyond the realms of which piercing hurt most. Having taken refuge in nice comfortable cutting edge Goldie a collective sigh of relief is breathed. Then there he is performing on Top of the Pops the hottest star of the moment, his obvious talent shines through like a really shiny thing, everyone enjoys.
Without warning, halfway through Goldie's thing a troupe of grandmas wearing floral attire like it was going out of fashion (literally) stride purposefully on stage. Forming a line behind the artiste they pause for a moment surveying the mouth-gapey scene around them, it's almost too obvious -- they know what they have to do.
In unison they move their arms in a fashion that TV's exercise maestro Mr Motivator dictates for the over 60's. They move their legs in a precarious way but everything they do is gentle. It goes a bit awry when they falteringly attempt to moonwalk, but nonetheless "this is fun isn't it Doris?" looks are exchanged.
However Goldie's facial muscles have not manipulated themselves in the same way as the dears. There's not even a trace of Doris in there. Instead they have manipulated themselves to display confusion and professional calmness (of sorts). Any winning smile he attempted to produce was again suppressed by confusion and much head-shaking.
At the end of his set one of the old ladies approaches Goldie and a faint "we're going for a cuppa, would you like to join us" has been caught on mic. Before he could give an answer she led him away by the hand. The camera seemed to be lingering on him for ages. He longed to swipe his hand away but that would be bad PR. Soon Goldie was to realise he was glad that he joined the old ladies: for he needed to see what he saw...
Meanwhile all was going smoothly for a while in culture land; TV's regular Punch & Judy double act, called Richard & Judy, were still making effortless links and stuff. Then the Hotel Babylon incident happened.
Jay-Z and Dr Dre were being interviewed by Danni Behr. Then a Tim Westwood style phone-in was put into operation. Jay-Z and Dre were paid respects whilst the Tunbridge Wells massive were given mentions. In the middle of this, a soft voice said hello to Dr Dre and Jay-Z and went on to say she loved all their ballads.
"We don't do ballads lady""Oh well, I do still like you boys""Err, OK keep takin' the medication""Oh I will Mr Dre, thank you for the advice""No problem."With that it was time to entertain the crowd. Jay-Z glided to the mic, proudly displaying his Torso to the laydeez. The crowd could have been implanted with the same device as Oprah's lot. They screamed until they were on the verge of hyperventilating.
"Nice" thought Jay-Z whilst Dre was aching to hit them with his impressive DJ skills. He cued and played an Ohio Players record but some "when I'm cleaning windows" shit was happening. He checked the label, yup Ohio Players.
He played his other stuff but his mind was a buzz with "It's a long way to Tipperary" and the "ha Ha ha Ha" of the laughing policeman. He felt his carefully crafted credibility unravelling. Meanwhile Jay-Z, hit the audience with one-liners about the situation. They loved it. He could have carried on for ages.
Dre had given up, but it was still great TV. While he sat in the shadows, an old lady appeared and slid in a DAT and activated the machine with what appeared to be rehearsed efficiency. It was a medley of beefed up old-time melodies. Another old lady walked on stage to confront Jay-Z. She was wearing seaside shades and Jay-Z just had to laugh in a bemused amused way.
Unfortunately she started battle-rapping in a surprisingly proficient and aggressive manner. Her Jay-Z put-downs were good, too good. The audience was crying with laughter. Her risky references to Jay-Z's chequered past were ruthless.
As the novelty was exploding before him, Jay had to collect his thoughts. He was being humiliated. If he hit her that would be yet another court case- and he'd never live down hitting a 70 year old.
His smile strained as he realised he had no option but to battle rap whilst being accompanied by a bastardised "Roll Out The Barrel." He rapped about old people and incontinence pads but he just didn't have the bite his opponent did. She knew his past as sprayed in the media, her jibes were specific to him. Jay-Z had never seen her in his life and could not focus his attack on her, only on oldies. In a word he lost.
It was media sensation time. In the news, in the arts programs, on comedy shows and, well anywhere that the producers had run out of ideas and needed something to create guaranteed interest.
All kinds of angles were found, even serious ones, such as Panorama's: "Old people and society -- a misunderstood relationship?" There was a crazy no time to rewind feeling as the lady in the seaside shades became the topic of serious conjecture and old Jay-Z had become a figure of fun. Not even Dre would touch him. Jay-Z knew what he had to do: to shuffle off and do a bit of re-inventing. He knew that MC Hammer was the key for what could go wrong, he therefore decided he would resort to using his brain.
Old ladies were springing up everywhere, even across the Atlantic. Their sabotage was becoming more and more inventive. Their infrequent and erratic appearances added more spice to their activities. TV dudes hoped it would be their shows that would be targeted; the publicity would be something to savour. The upshot was that youth culture (and in many cases middle-aged culture) had to take themselves less seriously. Hype was now hollow and was seen as setting yourself up for a fall (White Stripes and Oasis were losing weight through worry). Simply put, it was a content over style thing and Jay-Z realised it.
His come-back didn't sink, and made good progress. His lyrics were original, his flow new and his attitude was now really “real" not just real on vinyl. Culture had got a fucking move on.
Goldie knew what was going on. An angel was smiling on him the day he was led away by the old dear. He was taken to a school gym which the ladies had hired for the evening. There he saw, lined up neatly in rows, a crack squad of senior citizens. On each of their floral uniforms there was a badge emblazoned with the words "Cut the cultural crap. It really is shocking you know."
Very little was said but he knew the score anyway. Graciously he accepted the tea and biccies. Whilst gasping at an intricately woven teacosy, he felt inspired. No, not by the teacosy, but by the way they had turned their status as the ultimate social pariahs on its head whilst helping their cause. Shit, he didn't even mind when one of them asked if he had left Blue Peter yet!
http://www.hamusutaa.net/acen01-2/cool-grandma-2.jpg
Thursday, November 11, 2004
The Motherland
An Asian bloke said he feels totally disconnected from India- where his parents hail from. An wondered if anyone else felt the same.
For me the UK is my main base because of family and friends. I do still have a link with Pak/India, it's not that strong as I don't live there, but some aspects of life there are so cool- a kind of openness and community there which is very attractive. Plus I'd miss not using the language (Urdu in my case). It has a feel to it you don't get with English and visa versa. Having said that I'm probably more connected to India/Pak of the 60's because that's point at which my parents left.
On the other hand it's obvious to me there are cheeky chalak monkeys in the motherland. They make their own hell that way. On the upside there's such a variety of moustaches that nothing appears malicious. However I'm sure the novelty would wear off if I lived there!
Check this virile specimen: http://underthefirestar.blogspot.com/photos-03/muchhad.jpeg
For me the UK is my main base because of family and friends. I do still have a link with Pak/India, it's not that strong as I don't live there, but some aspects of life there are so cool- a kind of openness and community there which is very attractive. Plus I'd miss not using the language (Urdu in my case). It has a feel to it you don't get with English and visa versa. Having said that I'm probably more connected to India/Pak of the 60's because that's point at which my parents left.
On the other hand it's obvious to me there are cheeky chalak monkeys in the motherland. They make their own hell that way. On the upside there's such a variety of moustaches that nothing appears malicious. However I'm sure the novelty would wear off if I lived there!
Check this virile specimen: http://underthefirestar.blogspot.com/photos-03/muchhad.jpeg
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Ooooooh.................. Aahhhhhhhhh!!!
I didn’t go the big do. Sorry to the one reader of the blog who wanted the gossip. I went to a plebby fireworks display; it was set to classical music. So I suppose it wasn’t that plebby really. A friend and I went on some adrenalin-releasing fairground rides which was a welcome diversion. I regret not taking any pictures. The lack of dodgems was disappointing. Anyway I might go to the next poncey party as I’ve been invited again. But you know TV’s quite good that day. I’ll live another day.
I was trying to tell a co-worker off today for not locking up a valuable digital video camera. She said: “well why don’t I just lock away all the computers, they’re valuable too!” I liked her style. Blaady moral relativism- sending this country to the dogs. No wonder Bush got in. Hippies everywhere! I think I would make a rather good retired major. I think I will apply some sand-paper to my cheeks so they are the requisite level of ruddiness. If you are a retired general may be you could give me some tips.
I was trying to tell a co-worker off today for not locking up a valuable digital video camera. She said: “well why don’t I just lock away all the computers, they’re valuable too!” I liked her style. Blaady moral relativism- sending this country to the dogs. No wonder Bush got in. Hippies everywhere! I think I would make a rather good retired major. I think I will apply some sand-paper to my cheeks so they are the requisite level of ruddiness. If you are a retired general may be you could give me some tips.
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