Cyclical

Wednesday 10 July 2013

Tuesday 17 May 2011

Harry Potter and the Capitalist Bastards Making us Pay Twice for One Film

Okay. I like Harry Potter. The books. The movies… not so much. Especially the 4^th one. Nevertheless, was I hyped up to see potter 7? Bet your ass I was. Here was the payoff for 6 movies of build-up. I had 2 thoughts. First, I was fucking there. Second, please don’t screw this up. It was okay… but I had problems with it. And here is the top 3 countdown.

3 – The waitress’ Terminator headphones moment

Easily the lowest point of The Terminator. A scene that’s impossible to watch without the sarcastic symphony of a thousand rimshots. So why did the director of the deathly hallows feel it necessary to rip it off so blatantly in his movie? Ah, the answer is obvious. While today’s average movie-goer would be happy to watch a televised autopsy, breaking up a wedding is a bit too much for them. “Whoa!” they say, as the disconcertingly named ‘death-eaters’ march into the burrow (what was that? You blew that up last movie for no reason? Shame) “that’s intense!”

So the director obviously turned to his writing crew and said “we need comic relief, guys!”

And so the writer just took a look at whatever happened to be in his hankie at the time and put it into the script. The casting crew, equally motivated, just pulled the bitch out the boring and pointless CBBC flop “the Mysti Show” (‘cos you know, kids need to be taught bad spelling) to be the scapegoat.

2 – Hermione’s Mind wiping

I can understand why Hermione has to wipe her parents mind – thank god for that lovely piece of exposition later in the film – but why do pictures of her vanish? Oh no, it’s not the whole picture, just her. By chance, her parents just so happened to be blank wall enthusiasts, so all turned out fine. But what about friends and neighbours who knew her?

Friend: So, How’s Hermione?

Parent: What the hell is a Hermione?

Friend: … your one and only child

Parent: we don’t have any children.

Friend: But … urm… ok. I have to go and… urmm

Parent: Are you okay?

Friend YES! DON’T KILL ME!

1 – Dobby’s death

GASP! The reader count-o-meter! It’s reaching critical levels!

I do not care. I must rip on this.

Without a doubt, this is the most contrived, the most pointless to the story, the most time wasting horseshit in the whole franchise.

What?! You may be saying. Have you no heart?! Well let me ask you this. Name 1 effect on the story of Dobby’s death. Take your time. Got anything? No, I didn’t get anything either. In the book and the film, nothing happens. They cry a bit, mourn a bit, drink a little and forget about him. And continue on with the movie.

Oh and the CGI. I couldn’t get the image of Dan Radcliffe, in a blue room, sobbing into a blue tissue box with a blue basketball stapled to one end.

That and the Zoidberg ad-libs.

“DOBBEH! NAOO! HE WAS WITH US AND NOW HE’S GAONN!”

“NAOO! CURSE YOU HELENA BONHAM CARTER AND YOUR FRUITFUL ACTING CAREER (SOBS)”

“DOBBEH!! WHERE WILL THE STORY GO NOW, WHERE!?!!?!!!?!!??!”

So yeah. It wasn’t a horrid death race of a movie, but it had some horrible bits.

Wednesday 4 May 2011

It was a lovely sunset in northern Pakistan, with cool rays of light illuminating the sand, and the whole land glittered. It was a beautiful night, and Samuel, a humble linen merchant, was celebrating the biggest deal of his career.

Samuel: Would you believe it! I’ve the contract for that new military base. This is wonderful; I’ll finally be able to get ahead in this harsh world J

Mia, Samuel’s wife: Well take care Sam, it is a military base after all, and under inspection tonight and everything. I don’t want anything to happen to you <3

Samuel: Ah, I know. But I’ve got to do this. We’ll be able to do so much more with this money, we can go to the mountains like you wanted, to see the sunset from up high in the winter J

Mia: I just want you to be safe <3. But I guess I am just being paranoid, good luck J

Samuel: Thank you J

Samuel knew his duty. He was a born true merchant, never taking a dishonest dollar and never raising his prices. So as he went towards the military base, he had that sense of pride he always had in his work. He was his own mascot, Arabic Santa. A long black beard and a joyous laugh, and linen as his signature dress. It had propelled him to status, and had now landed him this huge deal. As a present to the hard working soldiers, he decided to help them celebrate may day by dressing up.

Samuel: HO HO HO! Did somebody order some linen?!

Taraki, the guard: ARABIC SANTA! :D

Samuel: HO HO HO! Could you take me to mohammed?!

Taraki: :) Of course Santa J

So Samuel was taken to the waiting room. It was slightly less developed than the rest of the base, but still had the uplifting air of the rest of the base.

Taraki: Mohammed says you may wait in his chamber.

Samuel: HO HO HO! Merry Christmas!

Taraki: I love you Santa.

Samuel was a humble man, and so honoured to be allowed entry into the leader’s chamber. Mohammed’s wife was sitting on the bed putting her shoes on to go pick cherries in the nearby wood when Samuel came in.

Wife: SANTA!!!!!!!

Samuel: HO HO HO! And what do you want for Ramadan?!

But then.

Royal Marine: Holy Hell? Bin LADEN!!! OPEN FIRRRRREEEE!!!!!

Wife: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mohammed’s wife dived in front of the Samuel, but the marines took no notice! Samuel wept under the wife’s body as his last thoughts turned to his wife…

Tommy the Marine : Umm. I don’t think that’s bin laden.

Chester the Marine : Nonsense boi, look, he has the beard and everything.

Jimmy the Marine: Sir this beard is fake.

Chester: Oh… shit. Umm. Umm. Throw it in the sea.

Taraki: SANTA NOO!!!!!!!!!!

4 hours later

Obama: There is a 99.97% chance that the man we killed was Bin Laden. That will be all.

Wednesday 20 April 2011

Fuck Gamestation

Today I wanted to buy a game, crackdown, a 15. Nothing wrong with that, but see what happened when I tried to buy it. Just a note, the following conversation is real. It is copied pretty much verbatim from what happened, although my memory might have fogged up the word ordering in some places nothing is made up. Let’s go.

Me: Hey, can I buy this please?

Store person (a 45 year old that looks suspiciously like a trout): Can I see some ID?

Me: I’m sorry I don’t have any, but I am 16

SP: well I can’t sell it to you

Me: so… do I look 14?

SP: well you don’t look 15. To me anyway.

Me: Wait a second, I have something. (Withdraws train card, with date I turn 16 with picture of me) I have this?

SP: I’m sorry I can’t accept this.

Me: Why not??

SP: It has got to have the holographic symbol. I need a passport or a drivers licence.

Me: well… I don’t have either of them, I’m 16.

SP: well you can get a citizenship card.

Me: what’s that?

SP: Well its £12 and you can use it as ID

Me: Right, what else can I do with it?

SP: well like I said it’s ID

Me: so right. If I were to pay £12 and give you two passport pictures you would permit me to but a £5 game.

SP: Well look. I can’t sell it to you without ID

Me: I’ve presented you with ID!

SP: Its not valid, it’s too easily forged.

Me: Why would I forge ID to make me 16? If I were going to go to the bother of forging myself an ID I would make myself 18 so I could do anything.

Trouty looking bitch: I can’t sell this to you without ID and that’s the end of it.

Me: ok then. Fine

Then, motivated by nothing but passionate burning hatred, I went around Epsom for an hour looking for somewhere else to spend my money. Nowhere had anything I wanted, so I ended up just buying a super frupacino from Starbucks.

But this gave me time to think about the future of the games industry. How can it make a profit while it encourages its customers to buy less? I’m not expert but I’m pretty certain that most people who play console games on a regular basis are under 21. So the only thing that makes me happy about today is the sure-fire knowledge that the people who made sure that I am unable to play an awesome game are going to royally fuck themselves in the year to come. And I WILL be there to laugh in the face of the trout faced bitch on closing day.

Thursday 14 April 2011

How to Gain Illegal Entry to the United Kingdom

I realised that its been a while since i last posted something, so i started to look around for a topic. I thought of reviewing the appalling animated movie Batman: Gotham Knight, but that didn’t turn out well. Then i thought of reviewing platoon, then the platoon NES game, but then i looked at BBC news and saw about an immigration cap on Britain. So for that polish person out there who is no longer able to serve me burgers, here is a handy guide to get into Britain.

1. Underside of the Eurostar

An extremely unattractive option. Not only are you likely to be sliced, electrocuted and crushed, but the travel entertainment is very limited. Although you will have unparalleled terror to entertain yourself while you hurtle along at 200mph tied to a train with gaffer tape, it hardly hold up to say, Ludo. However, it does have advantages. Like you will be able to tell all the other immigrants about how trains work during long, dull nights in the newsagent. Also, you will have absolutely no problem with waiting out for long periods. Which will be particularly useful when waiting in dark alleys for pedestrians. However, the biggest disadvantage is that at the end of the voyage, you will have to rip that gaffer tape off. Which is going to fucking kill if you put it anywhere hairy. Planning is key.

2. Stowing away on a Ferry

A very good option. Should you get past security, you are likely to have a very plesant jouney. And should you be able to afford a burger, the ones from P&O are very tasty, expecially with burger sauce. I’d also credit the view, and the comfort of the seats. But the biggest problem is the staff. Not personality wise, but they are likely to notice you are illegal, for a kickoff they have first hand experience. However take a day ferry and there is unlikely to be a lithunanian to stop you.

3. Make giant wings, jump off a tall building, and glide across the English Channel

Moving on.

4. Claim to be an international football player

Easily the best option. Just claim to be a reserve from one of the big teams and they might hardwire you some money to go business class. However, the biggest problem is that you do not look like a football player. But just try. You never know.

Well there you have it. Choose whichever option you want, sign up to a fast food franchise and make sure you give me a discount on the popcorn chicken snack box. Just don’t say it was me ;)

Tuesday 5 April 2011

HEIL SWANSEA

Here is a house that looks like Hitler.