April 5, 2010

I’m a Depeche Mode apologist.

April 5, 2010

A diet of sleep-deprivation, coffee, cigarettes, and a dissertation. At least my hair looks glossy and healthy.

Annie

November 24, 2009


One day, all of these will be collected into one of those mini-Penguin ‘Great Ideas’ books called On Being Right All The Time.

This is my review of Annie’s new album, Don’t Stop as endorsed by the beautiful people at ‘Sup.

Pride is a funny thing.

Sore

November 21, 2009

I saw an advert for this book at the exit for the Central Line at Liverpool Street Station early this morning. I was struck by Agassi’s earnest expression. In fact, looking at it is quite addictive.

Wretchedness

November 14, 2009



‘We are not satisfied with the life we have in ourselves and our own being. We want to live an imaginary life in the eyes of others, and so we try to make an impression. We strive constantly to embellish and preserve our imaginary being, and neglect the real one. And if we are calm, or generous, or loyal, we are anxious to have it known so that we can attach these virtues to our other existence; we prefer to detach them from our real self so as to unite them with the other.’

Blaise Pascal is eating up my time, and he denigrates the worth of my blog.

Literature

November 13, 2009

The New York Post is the Daily Mail is Tunbridge Wells is the lingering bile of Eisenhower-era instructional films.

Apathy Syndicalism

October 17, 2009

Bread and Circuits: The electronic-era tendency to view party politics as corny, no longer relevant or meaningful or useful to modern societal issues, and in may cases dangerous. (Douglas Coupland- Generation X, 1991 [p.80])

Voter’s Block: The attempt, however futile, to register dissent with the current political system by simply not voting. (Douglas Coupland- Generation X, 1991 [p.80])

Douglas Coupland hysterically delineated generation X’s problems in 1991. In essence, nothing has changed. His neologisms not only described the condition of the post-baby boomers, they pre-empted those of post-Cold War kids. Of course, our problems are cyberproblems- non-physical, ultra-minimalist, instantaneous communication that acts like a vacuum on emotional responses. We are expected to express ourselves in 140 characters or less. We are also expected to believe that emoticons are adequate subtitutions for facial expressions.

I don’t care about politicians. This is because they’re almost uniformly smug and priveleged. They don’t represent anything I think. Nor do they consort with the opinions of anyone else I know or care about. The only suitable solution to this political pessimism is ‘apathy syndicalism’.

Apathy Syndicalism: The tortured, post-ironic, expression of Generation Y’s political apathy. Often a reaction to the saturation of information and the nullity of the personality cult in British politicians.

Spectactularly smug, non?

I’m unprepared to let my opinions be delineated by someone who thinks its ‘normal’ to live in Holland Park and have your household run by 17 year old Filipino girls. Like with Stephen Gately, look at his ominious stare. Instead of Gately’s ability to charm the ‘housewifery’ demographic, Cameron appeals to the ‘confused enough by New Labour to want to return to 1992’ demographic. He’s grimacing, staring moodily into the mid-distance. He’s endorsing radical Tory policies like ‘resorting to a flippant, patronising, tone when realising that you have absolutely no idea about what to do with the lingering scent of the working-classes’. Another favourite is ‘thinking, meanwhile, that the middle-classes are a sociologically monochrome group that can easily be divided into “upper” and “lower” middle class’. These are often based on really slim signifiers like ‘how big one’s TV is’, and ‘how clean is your house?’, or ‘wanting to look good naked’. He thinks that going on Radio 4 and providing an ‘edgy’ selection of songs both old and new, or providing the Weekend On Sunday with an article about what’s on his iPOD, will win him friends with that latter because, although he’s an Old Etonian, underneath the wibbling accent, he’s ‘just like us’. He isn’t just like us. He’s just the sort of person that, 15 years ago, would have so little knowledge of media semiotics that he’d be willing to go on the ‘political talk show’ segment of ‘popular political/social broadcasting program’ Brasseye to talk to [Chris Morris’s absurdly named character] about crime. He’s the sort of person who, 17 years ago, would have taken delight in demonising the concept of ‘the single mum’.

He has a massive forehead. What say you people: shall we carve a Swastika on it using a child’s plastic knife and fork?

At this rate- even with such a disfigurement- he’d still get elected.