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Sunday, February 24, 2013

RAZORLIGHT


(pictured: Johnny Razorlight overwhelming himself)

Do you remember Razorlight do you? They were great weren't they? Do you remember the singer? Johnny Razorlight I think he was called. Do you remember him? And the songs. Do you remember all the songs they had? They had about six or seven of them and they'd do them on telly. Do you remember the one about America? It was kind of ambiguous. It had ambiguity, which is a thing that makes it hard to tell what it means but you know it means something because Johnny Razorlight looks like he really means it. You weren't sure if he loved America or hated America or had even ever been to America but, y'know, America.

Do you remember how Johnny Razorlight took his shirt off? Not gay or anything but that was great when he took his shirt off. It meant he was ready to get down to business, like when you're putting up a shed in the garden or something. You'd be watching Razorlight and they'd be doing songs and you'd be thinking this is our generation's Dylan or Clash and the kids would raise their hands and girls would be crying and there'd be songs. Do you remember waving the college scarfs around and caring about things? Caring yeah, that was the feeling. That or something like it. It was moving anyway. Do you remember being moved? You'd get the tickets and all pile into the stadium and get the shit moved out of you.

Whatever happened to Razorlight though? They represented a whole era didn't they? The hippies had Jimi Hendrix and acid but we had Johnny Razorlight and apps. It was the beginning of something. I'm not sure what it was the beginning of but it was the beginning of something wasn't it? Something kind of real. It felt real. It felt like something realish. Razorlight represented our era. Them and Keane and other bands with songs. They all had songs and we listened to them and they were songs. They were our songs. They were certainly songs anyway. I'm certain of that. They'd always turn up in ads for Vodafone, capturing the Zeitgeist. I wonder what happened to Razorlight. They weren't around all that long were they? The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long type of thing. I wonder will they ever reform. Maybe they never split up or did they die? Maybe they are dead like Pete Doherty from Block Party. Who knows? But we have the memories right? I'll never forget the songs and them doing them and all that. It was great. Great days! I just want to say thanks to Snow Patrol, I mean Klaxons, I mean Razorlight, for the memories.

...or am I thinking about The Killers?

Thursday, February 21, 2013

UNDER GOD'S CAR


The invisible confines of your perceived freedom: The body you inhabit. The landmass that restricts your movement unless you have the money and authorisation required for foreign travel. The languages you speak and your inability to speak. Your need for air and nourishment. Your fear of opprobrium. The ideas that come out of the telly, the awful fuckin telly. The ideas that come out of the mouths of your friends. What your parents told you. What your parents failed to tell you. What your teachers taught you. What your teachers failed to teach you. The money you save. The bills you pay. Your responsibilities and your irresponsibility. Those new shoes you have your eye on. The people you have your eye on. The people who have their eye on you, or keep an eye out for you, or the people who might scratch your eyes out. Your eyes. Books and magazines and papers and the words in those books and magazines and papers. Street signage. Streets. Road signs. Roads. Gardens. Buildings. Rooms. Houses. Cars. Car alarms and house alarms. People who are easily alarmed. The alarm on your clock and the clock itself. Especially the clock - the big hand, the little hand, all the numbers they point to and what they mean. The places you should be. The way you get to those places. The time it takes you to get there. The guilt you feel when you don't go. The guilt you feel when you don't go anywhere. The shame of loitering. Your dirty secret life of taking it easy. Your need to contribute. Your unease at accepting contributions. Your tolerance of frequent acts of officially sanctioned theft. The benefits this theft brings you. The things that are stolen from you. The myth of the meritocracy. Your utter mediocrity. Your hypocrisy and your inability to see that you are a hypocrite. The threat of heavy fines or custodial sentences. Guns – even if you never see them, you know that they are there.

But the waft of ineffable liberation is occasionally detectable, in the quieter moments. Fully asleep or half awake. Day dreaming under a dead tree - gazing at stratocumuli drifting above a crooked creaking lattice – floating beyond the bars of a cage. Stuck here but it's not so bad. It's a bit of a laugh. The holidays are coming up. You might win some money. You might 'get lucky'. You could go to the movies. Maybe there's something on the telly, the awful fuckin telly. Did you see the thing that was on last week? It was mad. The Devil put a bomb under God's car.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

@SADFCE :'(


It's not about the conversation anymore but the flow. WINKY EMOTICON. In contemporary media what you say is one thing and that's fine but it's the current it gets caught up in that counts. PLEASE SUBSCRIBE! Get a quick 'like' or 'unlike' and don't waste time continuing to get things wrong. TLDR! Communication isn't about communicating anymore. It's about dynamism. SHARE THIS ON FACEBOOK OR LINKEDIN! It's not about contributing ideas but about contributing content. SMILEY FACE. Analysis is condensed into easy to digest flow portions that r so easily digestible that they r no longer analysis. #IMBECILES It no longer mattrs what you say. No evr listnd nywy. sO Just say stuff n join the cnvrsation. LOL! The idea that communication is about ideas is an outdatd idea. Communication is about promotion. FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER! It's not what is being said, it's who is saying it. SUBSCRIBE! Don't think, just click. LINK THIS! Interface your face and be a face interfacer! 53638468 FOLLOWRRS! Hey [0] frac *= [0] other frac. Face me linkbook! STEPHEN FRY! The valu in wht u say is in the links. The value in wgat yiu say is in the 'likes'. The currency of d web is the links. LINK LIKE LINK! Diversity of options in the flow. Flow the interface REDDIT and link to the faced @ like me on Twitter #RELATING Replace quality with stuff efficiently. Get a profile, get a life @INNOVATION#FKD Navigate the click flow and 'like' clear goal your synergy and void your headspace online bite size PWND. The valu ov tings a dgidm? NOW TRENDING! Jst dwnld d app and FTW! Facelink ur fcbk lnk lk! #GET KONY src= gt fllwrs + lk fcbk10100101010bt twttr. The new sensibility is the death o sense death to sense uplod new sense FACEBOOK MY LINKEDIN! Be prt of tHe clOud and DSTRY conviction + depth#join d noiz,come let us build ourselves a city, GOOGLE + 1 with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth@SoLoMo LMFAO CMFEO CMFEO CrynMFEO CrynMyFEO CrynMyFknEO CrynMyFknEyesO CrynMyFknEyesOut / @SADFCE :'(

Saturday, February 16, 2013

NEW CONSPIRACY THEORIES


(pictured: it's no wonder cats hate “meeces to pieces”)

Conspiracy theories are all the rage these days. People believe all kinds of fun stuff to do with secret organisations ruling the world and weather technology controlling storms and all that. It's great. Fugger (the people's blogger) has long wanted to get involved in the conspiracy game so I've come up with some of my own theories that I'll be forwarding on to Prison Planet, Godlike Productions, and Russia Today.

Here's a sample of my favourites:

1: NEW YORK DOES NOT EXIST!
Never did. It's mainly done with computer graphics. Have you ever been there? Well I have and it wasn't there at all. It was another place done up to look like New York. The Illuminati want you to think there is a New York so that you'll go mad when CGI airplanes are crashed into it and agree to a global security police regime. These global police will wear special CIA sanctioned body scanning x-ray glasses and be able to see your girlfriend in the nip (unless she is in the nip, in which case they'll see her internal organs and skeleton).
If you meet someone who says they are from New York they are probably MK Ultraed out of it and actually from Wyoming or some place like that.

2: DOGS ARE MACHINES LIKE AT-AT WALKERS IN STAR WARS!
These dog machines are driven by mice to scare cats. This is just one strand of the animal war that is being waged around you. Remember, when you feed a dog you are fueling a mouse operated At-At and indirectly taking a side in a war against your own cat.
Additionally, Tom and Jerry cartoons were mouse propaganda and the animators that made them were also machines controlled by mice that were inside them. It was the same with Mickey Mouse cartoons. Even Walt Disney was a mouse - or mice to be more precise (hey, that last bit rhymed so it must be true!!!)
Pixie and Dixie was another example of mouse propaganda but no one remembers that so it doesn't matter.

3: CAKES ARE JUST MASSIVE BISCUITS!
Cakes are just big biscuits that are soft. Don't be fooled! The average cake costs around €8. Would you pay €8 for one biscuit? No, you wouldn't. You'd get at least four packets of biscuits for that money – that's at least eighty cakes. This is a plot by the Illuminati to get you to hand over more money so they can spend it on developing mind control shoes (that take over your mind once you put them on unless you're wearing tin foil socks).
From now on, wedding cakes should be called wedding biscuits and so should birthday cakes. Likewise, pancakes should be renamed panbiscuits but it's probably OK to keep calling potato cakes potato cakes. 

4: J.LO AND JENNIFER LOPEZ ARE THE SAME PERSON!
The Illuminati aren't even trying with this one. One name even sounds like the initials of the other and the two women are identical. The Illuminati want you think she is two different people as a ritualistic trick – they are always playing them. (Remember the Emerson, Lake and Palmer deception? Lake wasn't even a lake, he was just a bloke, like the other two.)
What's more, J.Lo/Jennifer Lopez isn't even from 'the block' and she never 'had a little'. However, I will concede that she does, in actual fact, 'have a lot'.

5: NEW YORK DOES EXIST!
The theory that it doesn't was a false flag operation so that people won't care when the Illuminati crash airplanes into it.

...and don't forget that Obama is a Sasquatch. I've mentioned that before on this blog so remember where you heard it first.

I'm really excited about contributing to the narrative. It's all about the narrative. Let's build an exciting new narrative, our own narrative, to carry us into the future. Once you have mastered the narrative you will have a defined cognitive dumping ground for all that nebulous hatred, rage, frustration, confusion, alienation, and fear that makes you want to SHOUT! It's also a fun hobby. Expect to see my new conspiracies catch fire and WAKE UP SHEEPLE!

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

A GREAT WHITE SHARK ON THE BLACKBOARD


A pilot fish swims at the mouth of a great white shark so it can feed off the scraps that fall from the shark's jagged teeth. What is a pilot fish without a great white shark? I'll tell you what a pilot fish without a great white shark is - a pilot fish without a great white shark is a very hungry fish. A starving fish.

Now, imagine the shark was a bit of a silly billy and got a bit greedy and ate up all there was to eat in the sea and there was nothing left. What would happen then? Well, for a while the shark and the pilot fish would feel very fat and happy but eventually the shark would become hungry again and so would the pilot fish. There is nothing to eat! What are the shark and pilot fish to do? Well, it's quite simple. Some of the pilot fish should offer themselves and swim into the great white's mouth while the others remain to eat whatever remnants fall from the great white's gob. Selecting which pilot fish get eaten would be up to the pilot fish but I'd imagine the weaker ones, the ones down the back, furthest from the shark's mouth, would be incentivised to offer themselves first. Persuasive statements like: 'it's time to don the pilot fish jersey' and 'it's your aquatic duty' would be thrown at the weaker pilot fish and, despite emitting little grumbles and leaving a few snarky posts on pilotfish.ie, into the shark's mouth these fish would go. Better to be dinner than have no dinner, right?

Pilot fish are greedy but the great white shark is greedier. The great white shark is the greediest of the greedy and, ultimately, pilot fish respect him for this. Pilot fish wouldn't have to resort to self-sacrifice in times of scarcity if they were as greedy as the great white and not just as greedy as each other. Greed is strength.

Greed is strength and that is what we should teach kids in school. Draw a great white shark on the blackboard and tell the children the truth. Even if it isn't really the truth we may as well say it is because we act like it is. Because we act like There Is No Alternative.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

ICTU SIPTU FUKU


(pictured – Is that Victor Jara?)
 
NO WAY! WE WON'T PAY! (well actually we will, all the same, anyway). 
Brother Number One Begg sat there on the committee of the Central Bank, presiding over the auditing of Anglo and the lads. 
We won't mention that because we don't even know - we just got out on the streets and Mundy did a song. We had a great time and all sang along. 
We let off steam and went home again and there'll be no national strike or anything like that because, fundamentally and absolutely, we're all full of crap. 
We don't really care about anything but our wage so if you don't go there we'll probably vote yous in again –
F fuckin F or F fuckin G or L fuckin A fuckin B. The alternatives to those three are fuckin comedy. 
So cut what you like, just don't cut me!
With a hey diddle dong and a fiddle dee dee.
ICTU SIPTU FUKU - Hee Hee Hee!

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

SOT


Soon there will be eleven numbers from one to ten. A new number is being officially introduced later in the year. The number is called sot and it comes between six and seven.

Sot will not just be a number. Like other whole numbers, sot will also be an amount. Imagine you have six things. Now imagine you have seven things. Now imagine you have an amount of things that comes between six and seven. Fractions are not included.

You look puzzled. There is no need to be puzzled. This amount has always been there. You have probably never seen this amount because your perception of external reality is mediated by an education that is based on an outdated macro level Newtonian interpretation. However, some of you might have seen this amount whilst under the influence of a fever or hallucinogens or stupefied by the drink. It is when you are in these states that you are briefly liberated from your stifling, culturally imposed, preconceptions. It is when feverish, hallucinating, or pissed out of your mind, that you can truly see reality - much like very young children or supposedly crazy people do.

You may be wondering why we need the new number but be prepared, sot is just the first of many new numbers. We are starting slow. Before the decade is out you can expect to see unt, fleb, and juk added to the digits between one and ten. We are going to need these new numbers to help us finally get a grasp on what is really afoot in the Universe. A new conceptual model is required so that our species can move closer to a true unification with its surroundings. The old ways will soon collapse under the sudden weight of new understanding. Don't feel too anxious. It's not going to be anything scary. It won't be all doom and gloom on the fleb o'clock news. You may feel overwhelmed at first but just take a deep breath and count to sot. You'll be fine.

In related news, they are also making zero the highest number so from now on we are counting to nothing. There will no longer be a need for calculations of any sort as ultimately it all adds up to fuck all. Counting forwards will be the same as counting backwards and the only thing you'll really be able to count on is that you can't count on much.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

a dIFficULt w0rK oF gEnIus


(pictured above: Joyce - pwnd)

drivvel dung, past Olive Oyl and Popeye’s, from hors d'oeuvres of bore to blend of biscuit brings us by a klunk klank commode ricTus recirculation back to Centra and breakfast Roll.

Sir TristramHandShandy, boiler hors d'oeuvres d’amores we all adore the fiat doors and cow jumped over the shotbled moon, had patty cake patty snake baker's Van unarranged and arraigned by Comptroller General on this side the Craggy Island of Umpa Lumpa to water-Tight welterweight his penis war: nor Tom Sawyer’s docks by the streeeeeeam knock-knee untangled bangle bumblesaur to ralph Lauren Giorgio Armani barmy army EXPLOITED barmy army EXPLOITED barmy army while they went doublin their muPpet with mumps all the Crime: nor avoice from Radox portion mortion abortion potion loTion major picture motioN not yet, though Bambi namby pamby after, had a skidmark butter on Brennan's old Iggy Pop: not yet, though all’s pear in vanessa Paradis, were Keyser SoZe suthers wroth with doctor retold. Got a feck of pa’s schmaltz unt shawl appall or Shawn Michaels HBK brewed by fart light and video and put on Youtube viral spiral and gory end to the schniggle schnaggle noggle was to be seen dingdongdangsome and ain't I handSome on the aquaman and Green Arrow.

The Fall E. Smith (babaPapaBegorraghZigaZig-HaLMNOpelicanChambourcyHippototsChambourcyHippototsBhamcourcyTippohotsRhambouccyPiphosnotsChUmbongoUmbongoTheyDrinkItInTheCongo— fuk!) of a dunce Occupy wallstrait oldspice mice play diCe with spurret and lark Rise to Candleford and Poldark on Mopeds early in bed and later on lie die down and frown through all christian black and white Lyons tea minstrelsy Packie bonner. The great Mark E. Smithwicks fall of the overalls untillytally at such snort ortice the paranormalschutehirsute of Finnegan, arse boiled flan, that the buMptyBennyhillhead of humself bumptios plumptious an unglun DobboOn the SiXone beef wellington to the georgewhere did itall go wrongBest in quest of his boozymissworldcontestanttitties: and their upthejunction is at the bill deskface out in the lark in the park where cureheads haVe been laid low by skins to fust and fangle upon the green since dev-linsfirst loved very very iffyy stiffy and then came in a jiffy and SeaQuest was shite and Seaquest was shite and it was no wonder it was cancelled because seaQuesT was shite.


...see, I told yous, anyone can write that crap.

(I threw in a few pop cultural references so geek types can enjoy it too. They enjoy any old fuck-wittery as long as it refers to something that made an impact on their telly cage brains.)