You know who you are, I’m talking to you. The sort of people who, back in the 1960s and ’70s, would go around wearing a sandwich board bearing the legend, “THE END IS NIGH”. Nowadays, you hide indoors, sitting on the internet wearing nothing but your old Y-fronts and a string vest, but you’re no less doomladen than your predecessors. Hark! A bell! For whom does the bell toll? Well, ting. Yes, your microwaved meal for one is ready – go fetch.
Seriously now, the world’s not going to end, we’re not all going to die at the same time and (you’re not going to believe this, but I’m going to put it out there anyway) 2010is… Just. A. Fil-um. Read the rest of this entry »
Well, the self-appointed security ‘gaffer’ has thrown in the towel. As mentioned here last week, my office’s gent’s toilet seat was stolen by person(s) unknown. While expecting our marauding Mr DayGlo Jacket carpark attendant to conduct a thorough investigation via his bluetooth earpiece, no doubt twitching his moustache, Poirot-like, in the process, it seems that the scoundrel responsible has eluded him.
Halloween guises suit some people more than others, but surely none better than Aslan. The Dublin band “rocked” Trim during the festivities while dressed as a rather convincing jazz sextet, ”accordion” to this photo in the Meath Post. Read the rest of this entry »
Hard on the heels of their Up To Now compilation, Scotland’s, Norn Iron’s, Britain’s, Ireland’s, Europe’s and SouthYemen’s finest band everSnow Patrolare set to release a double spoken-word album* of singer Gary Lightbody’s endless platitudes to audiences all over the world.
His stock, crowd-pleasing utterances, in which he compliments the size or quality of any given venue or audience, have charmed armies of the converted for years. No matter the occasion, he seems never to tire of telling crowds from Belfast to Baranca, that they are simply the “best audience ever”. Read the rest of this entry »
Desperate times call for desperate crimes. But now, another kind of ‘desperate’ have nowhere to turn. In a case that’s baffling even the most astute and eagle-eyed amongst us, the gentleman’s toilet seat in the office block I ‘frequent’ has been stolen. It’s used by at least three separate businesses in the block and also, no doubt, by several visitors, delivery men and couriers every day. While it’s always tempting to believe that a stranger is responsible for such an opportunist crime, I have too much bitter experience of internal theft in the workplace to automatically believe that one.
Unfortunately, the “security” staff who “patrol” the industrial estate are as much use as a pair of glass buttocks. Read the rest of this entry »
Great crime prevention advice for the good burghuers (sic) of Monaghan in this weekend’s Post. Perhaps the writer of this headline is obsessively over-fond of one my favourite crap jokes: Read the rest of this entry »
Amazing footage of 5000 people all staring at the sky, many of whom claim they saw the sun “dancing”. If you look closely you can just about make out… Read the rest of this entry »
What is the lowest form of wit? What has replaced the golden age of satire, spoof, burlesque and ingeniously dark comedy? According to David Denby, it’s something known as ‘snark’ -a phenomenon he ominously calls the ‘‘angry fanfare attending journalism’s decline’’.
Denby is a film critic for the New Yorker by trade, but here he turns his critical faculties to issues of style -specifically, the proliferation of a particular type of abuse, which he describes as ‘‘personal insult, low, teasing, rug-pulling, finger-pointing, snide, obvious and knowing’’.
One of Denby’s chief contentions is that snark -a term borrowed from Lewis Carroll - has grown in popularity in recent years due to the internet. He demonstrates how blogs and social networking sites like Twitter have become tools for those who simply wish to draw attention to themselves by being as vile and insulting as possible, often without substance or morality to back up their ‘argument’. In cases like these, where abuse goes viral or becomes self-replicating, the object of the ‘snarking’ can fall victim to a sustained and widespread campaign of low insults – much of it dished out entirely anonymously. Read the rest of this entry »
It has to be. Andrew Ridgeley’s 1990 ‘comeback’ single Shake truly is car crash stuff. The video is appropriately nasty, but ignore it if you can and just listen to the song: after the cak-handed, overwrought acoustic intro, there’s this ‘intriguing’ and ‘dramatic’ pregnant pause – during which, it seems, Ridgeley trips up and falls into a drum kit. Incredibly, they kept that bit in the final recording and somehow passed it off as a real drum intro.
Few remember Ridgeley’s solo debut (and, thus far, only) album Son Of Albert. Fewer still own it, or remember it with any affection whatsoever. Arguably, it is the the worst record ever made – of course, we’re not allowed to say that accolade applies to Freddie Mercury’s Mr Bad Guy anymore, because he’s dead. But that’s another discussion for another day. Read the rest of this entry »
The über stylish German act, Goombay Dance Band, featuring the incomparable Oliver Bendt, performing their only UK hit, Seven Tears. This spent three weeks at Number One in 1981. Wouldn’t happen nowadays.
You know who you are, I’m talking to you. The sort of people who, back in the 1960s and ’70s, would go around wearing a sandwich board bearing the legend, “THE END IS NIGH”. Nowadays, you hide indoors, sitting on the internet wearing nothing but your old Y-fronts and a string vest, but you’re no less doomladen than your predecessors. Hark! A bell! For whom does the bell toll? Well, ting. Yes, your microwaved meal for one is ready – go fetch.
Hard on the heels of their Up To Now compilation, Scotland’s, Norn Iron’s, Britain’s, Ireland’s, Europe’s and SouthYemen’s finest band ever 
Desperate times call for desperate crimes. But now, another kind of ‘desperate’ have nowhere to turn. In a case that’s baffling even the most astute and eagle-eyed amongst us, the gentleman’s toilet seat in the office block I ‘frequent’ has been stolen. It’s used by at least three separate businesses in the block and also, no doubt, by several visitors, delivery men and couriers every day. While it’s always tempting to believe that a stranger is responsible for such an opportunist crime, I have too much bitter experience of internal theft in the workplace to automatically believe that one.
What is the lowest form of wit? What has replaced the golden age of satire, spoof, burlesque and ingeniously dark comedy? According to David Denby, it’s something known as ‘snark’ -a phenomenon he ominously calls the ‘‘angry fanfare attending journalism’s decline’’.