World supplement

Interpol at Brixton

2010-12-13T07:59:00.000-08:00

I first saw Interpol two years at Latitude festival and was blown away. There was a band with little commercial success, leading a crowd of thousands, in renditions of underappreciated seminal rock.
Inside Brixton Academy there is no pushing, no jostling for position, we sit on the floor with overpriced lager and talk without straining. Interpol bring with them a certain crowd, subdued till it matters. Two sell out nights here have preceded ours, which happens to be the last night of the European leg of their tour. I’ve been a fan for about five years now, but what always surprises me is the number of Interpol fans there are. The Band has had two UK top 20 singles in the last 8 years. On paper they barely warrant a supporting slot for an upcoming British indie Group. But they make Albums, not singles.
Surfer Blood support with one of the weirdest looking line-ups. These five guys look from the age of 14 to 28, A preppy sweater vest singer to; ‘hey, check out that weird drug guy over there’ percussionist. Strong catchy songs but working within a genre that’s getting a little tired. I get it, you know how time signatures work, that’s not an excuse to break out as many as possible, also if you’re going to scream, scream, but your lyrics should be strong enough not to warrant it.
Interpol have just released their forth (self titled) album, and open with their first track ‘Success’. The lights silhouette Paul Banks at centre stage while Daniel Kessler’s hypnotic guitar tone and dancing from the hips raise the crowd straight into an academy vocal lead performance of Say Hello To The Angels. A unique quality Interpol posses over other indie bands is their inherent coolness. It seeps from every stitch on Kesslers suit and every thud of Sam Fogarino’s Bass drum. They move within a limited personal space, Banks sometimes withdraws from the comfort zone only to stroll back in and release pitch perfect vocals.
What strikes me most about the new material though, is the size of it, I don’t mean the quantity, I mean the audible ‘epicness’. They have broken from the guitar riff lead ways of Antics and have settled into a kind of intelligent stadium anthem vibe. Backed up by their classic lighting show, and the acoustics of The Academy, it sets off a show worthy of The O2.
Finishing the Show with Obstacle one, probably their most widely known track, possibly due to its popularity among the skate crowd, of which I am, and on the night was not the only one in the room. They encore with NYC, a song, which in hindsight shows that the band had promise for anthems a long time before this Album.
Maybe one day Interpol will break the UK properly, but even if they don’t, the fan base and the music is still good enough to warrant their return to our shores for what will be another blinding show.

There can be only one

2010-12-13T06:35:00.001-08:00

Picture the scene if you will, Saturday night, a drunken Mother, a best friend and the lodger. The wine is gone and there seems to be nothing else to do but play stupid games from "off of the tele". MR and MRS. The idea, team up and answer questions about your partner/team mate. Simple and fun and when all that's left to drink is the dregs of Christmas Crème de menthe, a good way to sober up.

Anyway, one of the questions that arose was what some might think quite easy, like picking your favourite colour? or remembering the name of your first pet. But not for me. this is the mother load of all questions, What is your favourite film ever?

Suddenly my mind turned into a film nerd proton accelerator, bits of film jargon smashing around inside my head, trying to comprehend the monumentalness off this question. Essentially, what one film would/could I watch for the rest of my life and never tire of it?

Straight away your manic frenzy tells you to draw up your list of classics, which ,if you are any type of real film nerd, should span the genres back and forth. From Horror to musical, Indie B movies to animation, no screen visionary rock should be left unturned until ones list is complete.

The next part is the hardest, who makes the final few. Trying to cut some films from your list is like dropping your own child from a father son three legged race. Its like "Hey, you were good, I just don't love you as much as my new son". But it’s for the greater good, those classic titles where weighing you down, you only kept them in cause it seemed like the right thing to do, shed no tears for loves lost.

And then you realise something, this question is impossible, it's on the level with "Who would you save from a fire, your mum or your dad?" it is literally that difficult, don’t judge me. The fact is there is not one film out there that has captured every human emotion and laid it bare on screen, many have been praised by millions, and many are seen to be that one or series of films, but the truth is I’m glad there isn‘t one. If there was that one film everyone adored and no one hated then what would be the point in film making anymore, we would have reached this art forms peak. The good thing I suppose is that this will never happen, there will always be films being made, if not for glory and praise but for self satisfaction.

I picked Withnail and I as my favourite, hence the picture at the top. It’s the closest you can get to a perfect film.

New Charmless man

2010-12-13T06:29:00.001-08:00

Blur once sang about the Charmless man. He was a being of no substance and no value "Educated the expensive way, He knows his claret from a Beaujolais" these being the trademarks of a social tosser. "He moves in circles of friends who just pretend that they like him, He does the same to them and when you put it all together there's the model of a charmless man".

The new wave of charmless man has all the hall marks of the old option but now presents himself a slight differently. Educated the expensive way is not so important as long as one gives the demeanour of education. The "geeks" have now become the class act, importing themselves into the arts with subtlety and now teaming up to empower the younger nerd. The problem arising is that with popularity comes hipsters (the new wave Charmless man), a person who latches lovingly on to the idea being a cool guy outcast, because a few years ago he was such.

He was not a nerd nor a geek, he was a run of the mill young man. Not popular but not as unpopular as said Geeks, but when the cool clock shifted towards geek chic o'clock the masses of basic teens jumped up a few pegs in hip.

What we have now is an explosion of average minded people trying to pull off intelligent dialectic processes. Groups of twenty somethings on their fixed gear bikes talking loosely about Wes Anderson being a demigod to existentialistic thought in cinema. Open bongo open mic nights. Chest cut T-shirts and big glasses. I enjoy talking, debating, shooting the shit on any level with any body about anything. Just don't let me over hear two people talking about epistemology with no understanding of the word.

Scenario: The basic street passing of two rival charmless gangs.

When approached by another group of familiar similar types, the first alpha hipster steps forward like a lion in the wild. He presents his mane of designer labels and with a flick of his fringe continues to blankly stare at his opponent. The second Alpha has no choice but to respond with a drastically unenthusiastic “sup” or variation of a slack greeting. If vocalised well enough and with enough Charmlessness the first Alpha can either walk away defeated or try one more move. The hardest move to play. Alpha one slips him the wet fish handshake and moves on without a hint of eye contact, victorious in being the biggest wang hole to grace Lewisham.

Why can't people just be nice

The Social Plight.

2010-11-17T06:57:00.001-08:00

The Social Network

Dear Mr Zuckerberg, I hate you; from the bottom of my heart I hate you. You have got rich of exploiting peoples inability to enjoy they’re own company, and the F5 button. You have managed to change the world, for our generation at least, the generation of Internet addicts. (The loneliest addiction in the world, at least the 90’s had Heroin, that’s a real addiction) ¼ of people now socialise more online than in person. As I write I’m being distracted by the pop of hope. My self-confidence has been worn down by the ability to live my life through a web page. My likes dislikes and witty snipes are for all to see. The outside world scares me more than it did a year ago. But no worries, I have a farm at my hands so I don’t even need to go outside. And the fact that I’m shitting myself at the thought of human to human interaction only adds to the sensation that I’m right on the farm, amongst the slurry.

And if you thought Zukerberg wasn’t an arsehole, then you should watch Aaron Sorkins latest machine gun attack of dialogue, The Social Network. A film which spends it’s whole running time building up the Character of Zuckerberg as an arsehole, to finish with (and this isn’t a spoiler) someone telling him to stop trying to be such an arsehole. Maybe if they’d had hired an actor with a less cynical aura than Jesse Eienberg it could have raised his popularity? Maybe? But whats the old saying, you can’t polish a turd.

The figures do not lie. 500 million users worldwide is phenomenal growth for such a young company. But the quick release of this film could be seen as a film studios rebellion against Facebook, Or their lack of confidence in its longevity as a social medium. It is new, Facebook is only six years old, waiting for the demise in its popularity could have seen the studio loosing an idea, or the idea getting snapped up by a different producer.

But like Facebook the film left me feeling slightly empty. Did I enjoy myself yes, it was brilliantly scripted and beautifully shot. Was it pointless? Yes. For such a young company to have a biographical tale featuring a law suit which hasn’t even ended yet just seems a bit rushed, Like Justin Beibers Autobiography. You’re twelve Beiber, I don’t care.

Whether Facebook will carry on with its globalisation bid in unforeseeable, no one predicted the popularity of mobile phones, and no one thought house prices would crash. All I know is that I want my soul back. And while Facebook whores itself to me, I will not have it. Bugger it, Stick the Ethernet in my arm, I need another fix. “pop”

Maybe i'm a pleb?

2010-10-30T07:14:00.001-07:00

University courses should all carry some form of credibility. I study Film and when people ask about it the usual response i hear is, "Is that a real Degree", then i drop the classic, "At least my course can be acted in a game of charades". Boom, win for hand movements. But I get it, Its no oxbridge English Degree. It is a course that is looked at with a certain disdain. When the well to do boys down the road are studying the in's and outs of Lady Chatterley's Lover, you all think we're sitting in the cinema, watching Transformers with our hands down our trousers. Not true. I fucking hate Transformers.

The black and blue of it is that film and cinema are an amazing topic to study. People seem to forget how much cinema can and has influenced the world, on a social level, a political ideological level, even to the point of changing big business protocol.

Will H. Hays famously wrote in his Hays Code of the 1930's. "If motion pictures present stories that will affect lives for the better, they can become the most powerful force for the improvement of mankind". This mantra has not been forgotten. Even with all the crap films that infiltrate the silver screen, some gems still poke through. An example i sometimes over use is that of Morgan Spurlocks 'Super Size Me'. A relatively low budget handy cam documentary highlighting the damaging effects the fast food industry has on the way we eat and the way advertising infiltrates our minds without our knowledge. That film, with all its self righteousness still managed to present a strong enough message that the corporate giants took note. The super size option was abolished from McDonald's, a health campaign amongst other fast food outlets sprung up, and a whole lot of senior management types got put in their place. Cinema is powerful.

People seem to forget how much film has had a role in their lives. From growing up with Disney Classics to being terrified by Freddy Kruger. This is just a reminder that my course will always be relevant whether you agree or not. Win for popcorn.

A weekend in Brighton

2010-10-23T07:10:00.001-07:00

"Katy B looks like an Asda version of Lady Sov" and "Imagine when we had wives and kids. its gonna be shit".
Only a trip to Brighton and the "UNI MATE" amounts of Alcohol drowned could produce such fantastic one-liners like that.

Why Brighton? why not; simple, to see my mate Si settling into the fresher lifestyle in the country's famously gay hot spot. And now that being a second year has given me that smug satisfaction of telling freshers that they're pussies and showing them how to do it properly, getting to leave Greenwich and go and 'rave' it up amongst the spray on trouser elite in Brighton was never not going to happen. The arrogant, 'seen it all before' twaty second year came out in me and purchased to bangingly cheap tickets to see Katy B, Scratch Perverts and Emalkay at Concorde 2. woop woop.

Stepping off the train in Brighton, in all honesty, was not what i thought it would be like, where were the gay parades and bi-racial bisexual couples guffawing and falmboying down the street, this is nothing of the stereotypical landscape I had to come to expect from TV and hear say. The first thing that struck me is that my mate Si lives in the south Central of Brighton, The Avenue. But comparing those is not really like for like. Its a fight between Tyson and the strongest man in the village, "He lifted two cement bags down to old jess's farm t'other day, ohh he's a strapping chap"

After managing to Peeeeeel Si off the couch we went in toe down Brighton in the search for adventure. Two Guys, one girl and a pocket full of dreams, except these dreams had about a £30 quid limit on them so the first bar we hit was a drink and dash. I don't care how swanky you think your establishment is, £3:50 for a pint of Fosters makes me want to punch you. I'll give it its dues though, we did get to see a fight, or at least herds of squadies chase a guy out of the bar and down the road. West street style.

Onto the sea front, this must be the place where they hide the rainbow flags and house music. Noooo. Another avenue of piss, weird haircuts and the lingering stench of m-kat. Yummo. Bump into a few members of the ever growing Ipswich/Brighton invasion, Issac and Charlie. Into Coalition. Night goes blurry. Memory pin points a few fragile moments, Allie (female friend) and her attempts to become a club photographer, Allie, stealing a dudes hat, Allie, feeding me shots.

Saturday in Brighton; hangovers peaking about a 7, queasy, tired and headache but we’re powering through for ‘UNI’S’ sake. Onto the beach with pin prick eyes and an empty pocket of dreams. Pub? The lanes and ricki tickis. The lanes are buzzing with beautiful clean people, as myself, Allie and Si stink it up with our presence. So far Brighton has resembled not so much as an artistic sea side rescue, but as Barnsley/Hoxton on Sea. That is not to say that Barnsley is a shit hole and that Hoxton is Pretentious. But to be fair Barnsley is a shit hole and I’m sick of the Hipsters in Shoreditch.

An hour of Pub politics to build up your spirit and the slow travel back to the Avenue, where a spread of takeaway pizza and “Portuguese wine” is ready set out. Watching people get high and try to cast judgment on The X-Factor is slowly becoming one of my favorite past times.

“Nah mate there all auto tuned”

“So if they’re all auto tuned, why are the bad ones still bad and the good ones still good”

“…………pass me that”

I’m used to cueing before going into clubs, but my hat goes off to whichever spot ridden first time promoter set this gig up. No tickets, just reference codes, no clarity to whether there were tickets for sale, and a tumor like crowd of people hopping the fence at the front. Get in an hour a half later, Katy B in the main room in ten minutes. Grab a beer, bang a tequila, skank the night away. Perfect Stranger to Katy on a Mission. It’s 2am, but the 5ft firehouse that is little B keeps jumping. Scratch Perverts and Emalkay follow with two blinding sets. Exit the club about half four to the familiar sound of possible after party’s.

“M-kat numbers, M-kat numbers. Need K? need K?”. No, cause i know how these “party’s” go. And they’re shit.

Some might find it weird waking up in a house you don’t recognise, to walk down stairs and see your mates thrown on the sofas watching Takeshi’s Castle. I like it a lot. But I’m not hanging around. My final walk back through Brighton and the sun is beaming down. The weekend has been weird. Not a bad weird, just weird. Weird to see my mate Si in a uni atmosphere, weird to bump into some home town heroes, weird to think I had expected Brighton to be any different. Gay parades, there were none, but you can never escape “UNI MATE”

The Wire

2010-10-18T07:54:00.000-07:00

Few channels produce the high calibre of shows that HBO does. It's private pay per view subscription means that the its programs are not held to the same rules and guidelines as other channels are. They have no Ad breaks and can afford to spend real money on producing brilliantly sculpted television, such as The Sopranos, and in this case, The Wire. The Wire focuses on the city of Baltimore's struggle with it's war on drugs through both the lives of the police officers and the criminals, but thanks to HBO's need for quality, it does more than that.

When you think of cop drama, the image of things like the Bill or Cagney and Lacey come to mind, programs where the cases are solved in one episode and the faux law is skimmed over in order for the recommended daily output of car chases. in 2002 The Wire in a very daring way broke that mold. It didn't assume that it's audience where idiots and wanted nothing but running and happy endings; it relies on the slow build of character development and the emotional attachment we grow to have with each one. We care abut the case and the bureaucracy with which each sides characters have to struggle against. Co Written by an Ex police officer, it's main gift and intrigue is it's attention to detail and realism, and what may have been seen as boring and patronising to studio execs in the 90's has been produced to such a high quality by HBO that it just grabs the audience.

Poor Poor Gamu

2010-10-05T08:46:00.000-07:00

Once again we hit the early nights of October, the month where solitary men find excuses for lack of movement more easy to come by. I myself being one of these men, at points have found that television at this time of year offers nothing more than a stereotypical smothering of crap. X-Factor being the show pooch of the lot. Unfortunately the X-Factor has been a sort of house hold tradition since way back when it was Popstars. So like a smack head to the needle, i keep crawling back.

So this year being like any other year, the intellectually looked over come crawling from the woodwork to belt out grating renditions of Angels and Ain't No Sunshine to a rabble of other hopefuls, led into bounds of applause or soul destroying laughter by the four guardians of hell. Simon Cowel, Louis Walsh, Danni Minougue and Princess Diana part 2. Say what you will about Cheryl, but the woman knows how to spin. From being a toilet attendant beating wag, to the nations princess can't be an easy feat.

But from the opening show we had controversy. The retro fit of voice autotune for the contestants made the public feel cheated and was quickly scrapped for the second episode. But within that first show was a young flower headed girl called Gamu Nhengu. Tipped as an early front runner with her adapted rendition of "Walking on Sunshine", Cheryl made what has seemingly become her popularity downfall decision, and dropped her in the judges house stage to put through the blubbering, can't finish a song but loo at my stupid vintage umbrella Katie, and the attitude monster that is Cher.

Poor poor Gamu. As the nation rallied behind her with calls for her reinstatement, they watched as Cheryl then picked TreyC as her wild card entry. Now the foreign office has told Gamu she must leave the country as her visa has expired. so not a great month for the 17 year old.

But in the end none of this will be of any importance by Christmas, Gamu will be another fallen soldier in the line of emotional fickleness. and we will once again be subjected to a beige version of a pop classic. Thank god for Rage Against The Machine. And Fuck you Simon Cowell

Insufferable little Turd

2010-03-30T03:46:00.000-07:00

(I'm going to be the most condescending arsehole in the world, everything I say is opinion. But still good opinion)

Justin Bieber is the gay love child of Zac Efron and Aaron Carter. I'm really looking forward to this little shit's downfall. I'm praying for the INXS asphyxiation wank. I literally heard of this guy last week, that's how out of the loop I’ve been with pop music recently. And I don't care.

In his little video for "One Time", Justin has been left the task of house sitting for Usher. As most would do, Beiber decides to have an alcohol free fun house party were all the girls probably wear purity rings, so the boys are forced into doing anal. Poor them. As Justin Stalks his underage prey, it cuts to him dancing in front of the camera pointing and making heart shapes, adorable. After he's worn her out they share a moment by the pool before she leaves, presumably to get picked up by her mum. Sad and alone with "fuckyoubeiber-puppy dog eyes" Usher returns to his crib to find a rabble of chldren, all of whome could not give two shit's about who Usher is or that it's his house.

I wanted Usher to come back to his "Crib" to find Beiber and his boy Alex with a Barrymore on their hands. A half naked 14 year old, face down in the pool surrounded by silly string and panda pops, with an arse hole as wide as a didgeridoo.

The only good thing to come from this little cyst is the drinking game my friend Sam invented to Beibers music video. Every time he holds up his fingers "one time" you drink. Two times, double up.

So to you Bieber I award you the long over due second title of "Insufferable little Turd". Go forth and spread your twatism liberally, i know you will.

Ideals

2010-03-30T03:11:00.000-07:00

The first single Lungs by Ipswich band Ideals.
lovely boy.

Britain Through My Eyes

2010-03-03T09:31:00.001-08:00

Some might know that I do a film degree at Greenwich uni. Our class and others around the country were approached by the Foreign Office. They are running a competition Called Britain Through My Eyes. It's a propaganda initiative set up by the government for anyone who wants to get involved and make a three minute video highlighting how multi cultural and diverse this nation of ours is. I took it upon myself to change it up a bit and show the stereotypical English man in his home.

Enjoy

Britain Through My Eyes from Nick Williamson on Vimeo.

Of all the drugs in all the world

2010-02-13T08:30:00.000-08:00

First year university student, Thursday through till Monday night seem to be taken over by the prospects of getting fucked up. Every night at the pub, the conversation finding the same track as the nights before. One of five topics being discussed at any time.

Who were we fucked up with.
What shall we get fucked up with.
When shall we next get fucked up
Where shall we get fucked up
How fucked up were we the other night.

When I was 13 I smoked for the first time. 8 years later I've given up, fearing irreparable damage was the next stage in my nicotine fueled life. I had back pains and shortness of breath, whether it was to do with the smoking or whether it was psychosomatic paranoia, i'm not sure, but I kicked it and haven't smoked for 8 months. At 22 you shouldn't be fearing cancer, you should be bent over a table doing whatever drugs happens to be within inhaling distance. Nicotine has been the one drug that I was sure I had no control over.

I have problems with mind altering drugs. The idea of losing self control in a place where everyone else has lost self control brings me sharp bouts of anxiety, Now all I do is drink, Alcohol is a manageable drug which I can cope with. I used to smoke weed quite a lot,(this hasn't helped my paranoia, but it's not the route cause) there was always a constant supply at peoples houses and in the circles i grew up in it was deemed acceptable to get baked off your tit's and shoot the shit with your friends dad for hours. My weekends from the age of 14 to 16 are lost in a part of my brain resembling a hot box. It seems to me that the reactions i get when telling people my stories are all quite tame. It's now socially expected to have got messed up for a small portion of your early life, you need to have done theirs and you're fair share of drugs, you need to have those nights that sow the line between a funny story and a cautionary tale.

My point, if there is one to make, is that I tried to give up bad things, along with smoking I gave up weed, yes my mind is clearer, yes my lungs are lighter and yes I feel superior to the ones on drugs in the corner, but in a weird way I miss it. Even at the low class level of drugs I was using it was fun. I just feel that there is a line missing at the moment. You're either in up to your eyeballs, or you're righteously lonely. I was brought up believing that drugs made artists out of people. Jimi Hendrix, John Lennon, Jim Morrison. I would be lectured on how the drugs made the music, how it expanded their minds so that they could write on another level. What happened? Nowadays the one's who abuse it at the level these guys did have lives so boring that drugs are the only thing that's fun to them, that's their a hobby, good for them. But these are not the people I want to be around nor are they harboring a good reason to get high.

Maybe I should lead a front and start a society. "The society for artistic drug use", I could apply for a government arts grant, buy a mighty load of narcotics and invite some budding young drug addicts to join. They can get their high and at the same time give something back to the 60's ideology that spawned acceptable drug use. I could lead a new wave of Warhol's and Cobain's.

Drugs are wasted on the public.

Google Makes a Stand

2010-01-14T04:09:00.000-08:00

After drawing criticism in 2006 for agreeing to censor content for Chinese users, Google has struck back this week, threatening close its service in China in response to attacks on the G-Mail accounts of human-rights activists. The move comes after a number of online security breaches at over 40 companies worldwide were found to have originated in China.

Chinese officials have countered, saying international companies are welcome to operate in China - so long as they obey the law. Although not naming Google explicitly, they accuse search engines of disseminating pornography and increasing fraud.

Google's posturing has drawn mixed reactions. Many critics believe that Google should never have agreed to censorship in the first place, blocking pages with references to the Tianamen Square massacre and Tibetan Independence, for example. Others don't see how withdrawing from China will help increase freedom of the media in the country.

Perhaps one of the most interesting things to take into account is that Google does not have the share of the Chinese market that it enjoys in the rest of the world - approximately 30% in China, compared to a worldwide average of over 60%.

However, whether principled or pragmatic, Google's decision to speak out is an exceptional case of a business speaking out against a powerful national government. It demonstrates Google's desire to be a dominant global power - an incredible aspiration for a company founded just 11 years ago, operating out of a Californian garage.

Your Madness is Good for You

2010-01-10T08:19:00.000-08:00

Many people have spent their lifetimes dedicating themselves to studying mental illness. As a result vast quantities of literature are available, presenting us with criteria society has created to define madness. I have often felt a desire to understand the way I function: to justify or even predict my behaviour.

Perhaps this is a result of my youth. At 21 I am a typical case of a young woman trying to ‘find herself’. The past three years at University have been a catalyst for attempting to understand myself and my behavioural patterns. I’ve been thrust into social situations, sometimes awkward, which have made me question my own mental stability.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines “mad” as “1. insane; having a disordered mind; 2. wildly foolish; 3. excited or infatuated; 4. angry”. Madness has a bad name. We immediately think of depression, attempted suicide, schizophrenia, anorexia and so on.

However, “mad” is also a word that is much more casually thrown around in social situations. “Mad” can be mistaken for eccentricity - behaviour we just don’t understand. “Mad” can mean irrational behaviour; a person’s anger or anxieties; a person’s sadness or elation. If we don’t understand the way someone expresses their emotion, we have a habit of putting them in the ‘slightly mad’ category. Often someone’s dismissal of a person as “mad” only encourages the belief that they are, in fact, mad. If we are intimidated or confused, we can brand a person, even a friend or loved one and move swiftly on from what could potentially cause trouble.

I am completely guilty of acting in a manner that has often provoked the ‘don’t worry, she’s mad’ response. I have been irrational and temperamental. I asked a friend if he thought I was mad. He replied ‘No. You’re just a woman.’ I am more than aware that I am not really mentally ill in any way. It’s safe to say that I am not the first to have questioned my own sanity, but I know I am not clinically insane. Everybody has a bad day sometimes, everybody makes mistakes, everybody’s a bit of an attention-seeker. It doesn’t mean they’re mentally ill.

Having been called mad - usually by ex boyfriends - I became confused about where to draw the line between eccentricity and insanity. I headed to a book shop, picked up ‘Going Sane’ by Adam Phillips and sat down for a coffee. It made me feel better about my insecurities. It was encouraging to hear somebody else tell me I wasn’t mad. Not a friend and not a councillor. I wanted to discuss my supposed madness, which I had been dwelling on to the point that, if anything, it was going to make me less socially acceptable. The Guardian dubbed Phillips “The first happy philosopher”. Sounded good to me.

Phillips’ first question is not “what is madness”, but “what is sanity?”. We have an obsession with madness - a taboo, something we must work away from - but nobody’s actually told us what we should be working to. Where are the instructions? Where are the detailed measurements of the sane individual? Phillips says that sanity is merely a yardstick for madness. He says that flare and individuality, especially among the young, can be termed “madness”. Some of the most successful artists, playwrights and philosophers have all been deemed a little bit mad, possibly the characteristic that has fuelled their genius. Degrees of madness are so broad we can all find our own insanities. Without them we would all be rather dull.

I am tired of the bad name madness has been given. It is a topic that is actually wonderfully varied and interesting. Let your madness be a way of getting to know yourself and other people: It’s just a term for some aspects of a personality. We shouldn’t feel ashamed of our eccentricity - those that love you will support your “madness” as they do their own. Embrace your Madness.

“You can only be free when even the desire of seeking freedom becomes a harness to you, and when you cease to speak of freedom as a goal and a fulfillment.” - Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Anjem Choudary: Jihadi or Genius?

2010-01-10T04:07:00.000-08:00

The planned Islam4UK march through Wooton Basset was derailed today, after the Home Secretary Alan Johnson announced plans to have the group outlawed as early as Monday. The divisive protest motivated nearly a million people to join Facebook groups against the march, organised by an association whose membership is estimated to be in the hundreds. Spokesman, Anjem Choudary, refused to comment on size of membership, saying instead: " We are very effective in our impact."

This is certainly true. Choudary has appeared on Sky News, CNN and Newsnight in recent years and drawn condemnation from the Prime Minister - amazing for a representative of a group with numbers comparable to the "Independence for Yorkshire" movement. All that this self-declared publicity stunt has proved is that Choudary is a man who can play on the fears of the public and the appetite of the press.

Choudary has been described as "a bigot whose goal in life is to create division". He is not a leading Islamic Scholar; he does not speak for the vast majority of British Muslims; he is not open to rational debate. He is a good talker and beloved of producers and sub-editors, who can rely on him to provide a headline and provoke the public. He has simply taken the position of the previous tabloid-ready Mad Mullahs, Bakri Muhammad and Abu Hamza.

Concerns about media hype are growing. The Swindon Advertiser recently quoted one Wooton Bassett resident as saying “All they [Islam4UK] want is publicity, so what’s the point in giving them it?” The proposed march was offensive, but it was not violent or illegal. All the Home Secretary's plan for proscribing the group will achieve is greater exposure for proponents of radical Islam and provoke greater criticism of this government's draconian and unnecessary use of "Anti-Terror" legislation.

Play in the snow

2010-01-07T12:21:00.000-08:00

Sometimes an image can leave you speechless. It's even more amazing when that image isn't linked to a human power struggle. Weather is Awesome.

No one ever gets raped in the snow.

2010-01-06T11:12:00.000-08:00

It's snowing, it's been snowing on and off for a few weeks now. Unlike most people my age who would exploit this wintry white covering too slide down hills on tea trays and bit's of carpet (Londoners seem to use anything they can to bounce on their arses), I decided to do some hypothetical research.

Rape. It's nasty, it's bad, and it happens in parks.
Summer. it's warm, the days are longer and so are the opening hours for parks.

See where I'm going.

From what i have deduced no self respecting sex predator would hunch down in a snowy bush in the middle of January. Only the most determined sex scoundrel would think of pouncing on a target and having their jolly's in these conditions. Freezing underparts makes the mind boggle. But this brings me on to a deeper question. If the link between park tom foolery of a serious kind and weather patterns is true, then surely the rise in global warming could mean a rise in attacks. Hot weather does seem to attract it's fair share of wankers. Look at the Greek island of Zante. Among the scorching sun, techno techno face clubbing beats and barrage of squadies lies a road labeled rape alley. and it has nothing to do with oil.

The truth of the matter is, if you have a loved one, then don't let our dependence on oil blindly back us into a rape friendly world. An inevitable truth, carbon doesn't respect purity.

I urge you to print out this diagram below and look at it every morning. Then proudly jump on your bike and throw some V's to the sky.

A Happy New year :)

New Charmless man

2009-11-02T13:04:00.000-08:00

My Confession

2009-10-27T05:12:00.000-07:00

It recently hit me that I've been living a lie for the last 6 years, to anyone who ever thought of me as a cool guy, I apologise. You have been sorely mislead by my ability to ruse.

I'm twenty two in a month, A student, I live in London, the artistic birthplace to some of the best acts in all musical genres. I enjoy, no, I love music. So why is it when I happen to hear my friends ideas for the evening involve "going to a gig" I run, hide and cower like an abused child when the belt comes out.

The idea that a gig can be seen as a social pursuit or activity is all honesty buzzcocks. The point of involving yourself in good music is to hopefully strike a chord with the musician in a way that transcends you singularly towards pleasure. That might sound a bit pretentious but when did music ever shy away from pretension. Why then do I have to enter the world of sweaty leather clad rockers and wanky Morrissey wannabe fanboys in order to get that.

Don't call me a live music hater, I love festivals, the camping and obscure food, wine from the bag and the freedom to explore different music and leave a show whenever you like is genius, plus being able to not wash for four days and yet some how because of that little bit of mud you have dashed across your cheek in that boho fashion you're considered a style icon always makes me laugh.

I have had some great times at gigs, times where I'm watching a friends band play for the first time, Embracing their talent and cheering them on was always my main aim at those shows and doing that always detached me from the bad sound system and microphone feedback. It wasn't about the music then, it was nothing more than the friendship.

The more I think about it the clearer it is that I'm just getting older. Maybe a little bit before my time but never mind. I'll just be that guy who sits in the beer garden because it's too loud and hot inside. I'll grow my beard longer and start wearing farmer hats and waistcoats. Silverfoxed and ready to chat. I can't be the only one in this position. Stop lying to yourselves and join me on the real sociable side.

What if biggsy had the internet? Idiot of the month

2009-10-14T08:31:00.000-07:00

Idiot of the month (so far)

Three Simple rules for the perfect crime.

1. Take the money
2. Head to Mexico
3. Don't brag on Facebook

Oh Maxi Sopo, so close to a full house and a life time in the sun, but how little you must know about the power of social networking.

Maxi Sopo, a fugitive on the run has been caught out by the newly diagnosed status update obsession (In my head I'm a doctor), a disorder that convinces the writer to inform anyone and everyone anything and everything all the time. Even it seems that your a wanted con and you are "living in paradise" and "loving it". The terminal need to add friends, including one who is in cahoots with the Justice department, has flung him straight into the loving arms of Mexican prison.

He was caught after a quick simple friend search showed him standing infront of a BMW backdrop and sprouting such classic updates as "LIFE IS VERY SIMPLE REALLY!!!! BUT SOME OF. US HUMANS MAKE A MESS OF IT...REMEMBER AM JUST HERE TO HAVE FUN PARTEEEEEEE."

I know what you're thinking, what a way with words.

Wanted for financial fraud in Seattle, Mr Sopo went on the run, hiring a car and crossing the border like many a fugitive hath tried. It's a well known fact that the American justice system has been scanning social networking and video sites for years to hunt down people doing naughty things. Some say invasion of privacy, I say idiotic to post it online. The outcomes from this blatant snooping have been mixed but with the caliber of criminals getting lower and the need to blow ones own trumpet getting higher, never has it been this easier to catch wannabe Biggsys.

All that needs to be said is kudos to the idiotic criminals that make the lives of Police officers that little bit easier. Never change.

Triumphant return to form

2009-10-11T08:36:00.000-07:00

So it's been over a month since the last update because there's been a lot going on. Tom is currently out in greece trying to scrape a living as a film extra while sleeping on beaches and failing to bed make up girls (burn). While I've moved on down to London town to try and make something of myself. The big reason for such a long delay with posts is all to do with a lack of internet connectivity for the last three weeks. But I'm back now. lets get this started up again.

Stuff that looks like Cock 'n' Balls

2009-09-02T04:08:00.001-07:00

In homage to thingsthatlooklikecocknballs.com, I present the Sixth Congressional District of Texas:
I think you'll find that the resemblance is uncanny. It's even jizzing look...

Satellite of Death

2009-08-28T00:53:00.000-07:00

Sat-Nav? Doncherjusthateit? Give me a good solid map and a sound navigator any day. It's just another example of people not thinking for themselves. How many news stories in the last year have begun "A man narrowly escaped a deadly plunge today, after his TomTom directed him to do a barrel roll over a river with a swanny-whistle accompaniment". Honestly, if the machines wanted to kill us they wouldn't need a Matrix or a T-1000. They could rely on our own blind faith in technology to pop us off in much more subtle ways. That fair but firm female voice could tell you to just about anything and, like being told to eat your greens by Supernanny or to don a gimp mask by Fiona Bruce, you would find it very hard to refuse. "At the next right, pull over and run a length of hose from your exhaust through your passenger-side window," she intones - and how can you say no? The M5 soon becomes a graveyard for the commuting class. The machines have taken over...

Bob Dylan has recently revealed his interest in becoming the new voice of Satellite Navigation. The thought of his nasal voice commanding anyone to do anything is inconceivable. The strung-out old hippie barely seems to know where he is most of the time, let alone where you are now: We'll all end up revisiting Highway 61.

With this in mind I propose that the only way to stop the machines taking over is to give them voices we can ignore. So John Major could tell us that it "Would not be an inconsiderably bad idea to take the next left" and the Dalai Lama would inform us that we "must find our own path to enlightenment" before sitting quietly in the back for the rest of the journey. We just have to keep them away from Rammstein.

Put this in your mouth and call me Doctor.

2009-08-27T10:41:00.000-07:00

A Dr Michael Rusling has been suspended from his practise after having sex on the job.

Dr Rusling had been dishing out his sexual healing to an unnamed grandmother for 7 months before being found out by her Husband. The female sex patient had been writing about the encounters in her diary for some time, "what a buzz" after having sex with the doctor in his surgery while her husband sat yards away outside the door".

Dr Rusling denies that his ability to be a competent doctor have not been impaired, and to you sir I say well done.

Sex in the workplace is not something that’s uncommon, it’s just something you wouldn’t expect from your local GP. Sex in politics is just waved on through like a rise in tax, After Clinton got his presidential rocks off in the oral office the flood gates were opened for all kinds of deviant sexual encounters at work. Bursting in on someone shagging shouldn’t be a means for firing, it should be a high five followed by a stiff “get back to work”.

Sex is always the best medicine.

Forever blowing blood bubbles

2009-08-26T07:05:00.000-07:00

West Ham vs Millwall. There hasn't been this much of a fuss after a football match since 'The Taliban Tornadoes' took on the 'Yankee trading Goliath's' in the summer of 2000. Bin laden swore his revenge against the western football champions after the British referee disallowed a dynamite goal scored by the head wrapped pitch warrior. Never has an offside ruling caused such a ruckus. Some say he may have over reacted the next year, some say he just thought those towers where obnoxious, either way, the man stuck by his irrational emotions for the love of a fair game and the love of his team.

Not trying to compare West Ham fans to Terrorists but matching these two teams together was always going to be a bad call.

 If you haven't figured it out by now I'm talking of course about the hallowed game of football and all the manner of scum that follow it. Way back in the 40's and 50's Football was a game that fathers and sons would enjoy together, a chance for male bonding to happen. When a goal was scored hats would been thrown and wooden rattles would be spun. It was a gentlemen's pursuit.

Not anymore, along came the 70's and with it brought terrace violence and football firms and last night saw a city harking back to those old days. three people in hospital, one person stabbed and one pregnant woman nearly smashed by a brick.

Their isn't much more that can be said that hasn't been rehashed over and over again for the last thirty years. like the inevitable drunken mistake at an office party, the one which everyone see's and gives you that look, "Oh Geoff just put your trousers back on". It was always going to happen, his wife just left him and he'd been on the vodka since 4pm. Football violence is here to stay, It's rooted in British history for all the world to see. take it with a pinch of salt.

Final score, Hammers 3 - Scum bags 1

Sit down fatty.

2009-08-24T07:17:00.000-07:00

I don't like to alienate any of the small amount of readers that World Supplement might be getting, but I may be about to do just that. Whingeing moaning fat people, I have no time for you, get fit and thin then people will stop staring at you with that look of disgust. Right, its out there, off my chest to the realms of nodding thin people.

Sao Paulo may have just come up with a way of getting Fat people to make the change to healthy town. Super size seats have been installed in many of the cities underground stations as an "encouragement" tool for the lager being to use public transport. The seats are almost twice the size as regular one and can support the fattest of fattys at a whopping 40st.

The problem seems to be that the Brazilian chunkers are finding it just a little too embarrassing to use these seats.

But maybe this is the catalyst to a health revolution. Are the southern Americans going to lead the world in a charge of get fit junkies. Is degrading their self esteem to borderline bulimia the idle way to make someone slim? Maybe we shouldn’t go that far, but then again maybe a quick shot in the arm roll with realism is what the rapidly rising obese population needs. The sooner overweight people realise that what they are doing to their bodys is not just hurting them but also looks disgusting, the sooner we will have a sexier world.

And everyone likes sexy.

Nerd Pride

2009-08-18T12:42:00.000-07:00

Photo from the Telegraph

As a self professed Nerd I know for a fact that one of the great strengths of a being part of that fellowship is having the ability to horde tremendous amounts of useless shit. A memorabilia collection is the hall mark of a good nerd. Everyone of us possesses some form of sci-fi collection. Large or small, Wars or Trek, among our homes and offices are secreted items of nerd, figurines, annuals or signed photos fill our desks and we are proud to present them in front of the “normies”.

Luke Kay from Swindon owns one of the worlds largest collections of fanboy film stuffs but his collection has finally gotten to much to handle. It helped destroy his marriage and was banned from his house, and is finally getting released back into the collectors market.

As a massive Star Wars fan, this guy owns pieces that I would happily drunk punch the Pope for. The original speeder suit Mark Hamil wore in Empire strikes back and the original Lightsaber from A New Hope are on my punch for list along with Kit from Knightrider.

But from Nerd to fellow Nerd I salute you. This brave man has been able to do what so many have tried and failed at. To let go of your collection which you have worked on for so long would be like selling a child, you don’t want to do it but if the moneys right… The whole collection amasses to the tune of £1m by the way.

Dogs are just as fun as kids anyway.

Killer pigs are at it again!

2009-08-17T03:38:00.000-07:00

A young child enjoys the much loved Swedish annual tradition of kissing the pig for peace. But is this the last embrace?

As if Pigs aren't getting enough of a bad rep at the moment, along comes science to bad mouth Billy Bear and all things meaty.

New findings by the "world cancer research foundation” have been announced linking eating processed meat such as ham and bacon to an increased risk in developing bowel cancer later on in life. The 'Facts' being that you are at a 20% higher risk of messing with your bowls if you eat at least 50g of processed red meat a day. To put that in normal speak, it's a good meaty sandwich full, Whereas smoky Joe will be at a 40% higher risk than that of a non smoker.

So while the Bernard Matthews executives are running around trying not to go under for the second time in two years, health food organizations everywhere are punching the sky with glory. It's been a long slanderous road for the good guys but finally it seems to be paying off. Working for an organic company at the moment must carry the same feeling as a yuppy business banker in the 80's, but with the added sense of gratitude from all the people not dying.

It seems the world is going through a compassionate phase at the moment with its health reforms and organic alternatives but like an old bit of ham lodged in the pallet of the people, one question still remains. How far will these far out hippy health freaks push the good eatin on us? is this the end of all things free and yummy and the start of a different socialist health plan. Is this the health plan Obama didn't want the world to know about, a plan where we become a world of health book ration stampers with no ability to make food choices for ourselves, abandoned Mcdonalds falling apart, sausage stalls gathering dust. A unilateral communist people wearing grey and having precise times for their aubergine break. Big business falls and it's back to the dark ages of allotments and farm shops.

With the end of turkey twizzlers comes the end of the world. Cheers Jamie.

A New Golden Age of Piracy?

2009-08-13T03:54:00.000-07:00

In recent years hijacking ships seems to have become an increasingly common pastime for the world's disenfranchised. Coastal Somalia is practically a pirate state, seeing running battles between pirate brotherhoods for control of ports. Last week the return of piracy sped up a few knots when it was reported that a Russian ship, the Arctic Sea, carrying almost £1m of timber had been hijacked in the Baltic and then sailed through the English Channel - the most heavily policed and most densely populated stretch of water in the world - and out into the Atlantic.

Somali pirates are estimated to have taken some $150m in ransoms in the past 12 months and are thought to be using this money to fund bigger and better-equipped operations. They are seen by many in Somalia as heroes, fighting against foreign fishing vessels which have made making an honest living from the sea nearly impossible.

I can't really hate pirates. In a world where we are increasingly fighting a faceless enemy - in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan, where insurgents and civilians blend into one - it's nice to know who the bad guys are. It's also nice to know that the Somali pirates are driven purely by money and that captured crews are usually returned safe and sound once their ransom has been paid. The only way they could make me happier would be to make greater use of cannon, parrots and eyepatches.

Dennis the fanny

2009-08-12T10:12:00.000-07:00

Good old fashioned child abuse.

Dennis the Menace, the loveable young rapscallion is returning to British screens soon but as what happens with most of the things people love, He is having a slight re-think.

Yes it seems the Political Correctness group of bored overprotective T.V. execs has decided that the flagship character of the Beano, A character that has been looked up too by children for nearly 60 years has to much of a bad attitude, and "The BBC doesn't want to be accused of encouraging children to be violent."

His trademark Grimace will be replaced by a cheeky twaty little grin, His Pea shooter and Catapult will also be taken away and his faithful little alopecia ridden dog will have to stop biting people.

Why do the BBC want to destroy good ideas? Do they really think that making Dennis a normal boring little kid will keep the children watching. No. the best thing about Dennis is that he is a loveable little shit. and children love the small time violence he offers. Its not like Dennis struts around Beanoland like a pimp, bitch slapping Minnie the minx when she doesn't come through with the money. Supplying Rodger the 'Crack head' Dodger with his daily fix while kicking his dog and sniffing poppers.

No, those types of ideas are left in the ideas room because they’re not suitable for children. On the other hand if channel 4 was ever to take on Dennis then maybe they would come to the for front in a late night hollyoaks type edition, but for now we’re happy with the old Dennis.

Children need to know what a bully there age looks like. If anything Dennis is a fair warning of who to not get involved with. Editing Dennis into something he isn't is like cutting out scenes from old Disney movies. Yes they were a little racist, but you can't change what happens in the past.

Leave our childhood memories alone, you're just ruining them for the future.

A Nazi and a train robber walk into a bar.....

2009-08-11T11:53:00.001-07:00

Biggs, a bad guy for the people.

Some people, long haired people believe the world and everything that comes with it is all held at an equal balance. A metaphorical set of scales being looked over by fate and karma, when one person dies another is born (over population proves otherwise but we can gloss over that), when a good deed is done a bad deed must follow. And it seems that this week the universal balance has been clear for all to see.

Last week the great train robber and headline godsend Ronnie Biggs was released from prison to finally became a free man at the age of 80. At the moment he is lying in a hospital bed in Norwich after suffering from so many strokes he should have a ejaculated from life a while ago.

On the other side of Europe a ninety year old Mr Josef Scheungraber has been sent to prison for Nazi war crimes he commited in 1944. Josef sat at his hearing as if he hadn’t a care in the world, dressed like a war hero, he was sentenced to life in prison.

Straight away I’d like to say that these men, especially the later are not nice people, Josef forced 11 people into a farmhouse then blew it up. That’s stuff I thought people only did in films. He is a true Nazi.

The question is why has it taken this long for a murdering war criminal to be jailed. Was he seen as a national hero after the war? Was he paraded around German schools so the children could look upon him in wonder. “look daddy look, his eyes have no soul”. What had he been doing I hear you ask. He’d been living as a free man working for the town council in Ottobrunn. Yeah, really.

If I was 90 years old and had just spent the last 60 years of my life a free man after being responsible for the murder of 14 Italian civilians I’d be chuffed as old balls to be living out my last years in prison. I can imagine him being interviewed after a couple of months inside, “It’s like an old persons home without the cost, and you get accustomed to the arse buggering after the first few weeks“.

Snakes on a boy?

2009-08-10T09:51:00.001-07:00

Gang members of the world hear me now, the time to down arms has come. Drop those blades, put away the shooters and muzzle the black eyed staffys, there's a new weapon in town.

Yes it seems that the street youth of today have managed to out do themselves with originality once again. Not content with holding up old ladies with kitchen knives for a pension book and some boiled sweets, a duo of insufferable little turds from Bristol pinned down a fourteen year old boy and forced the Python to bite the teenagers hand.

When the Ambulance crew arrived at the scene, one of the paramedics (with the help of his phone) managed to google what type of snake it was. Luckily it was not poisonous. This time.

Star of the cult hit film 'Snakes On A Plane' Samuel L. Jackson has spoken out to reassure everyone that if any similarities are picked out between the incident in Bristol and his “fine ass” (his words) piece of acting on screen then they are just coincidences and therefore he is not liable to be sued.

This story only begs one key question to be asked. Is this the start of copy cat assailants. Will next weeks papers be full of barnyard street capers. I can see the headlines now, “Tigers used to rob Fort Knox”, “Jewellery stealing seagulls trained by KGB”. And the worst of all. “Cadburys chocolate factory ransacked by BEARS”

Only time will tell.

"Pic" of the week

2009-08-08T11:03:00.001-07:00

Keeping it simple here at World Supplement, every Saturday we will be showcasing our "Pic of the week". Inspiring, Hilarious or just good old fashioned what? This week, Animals.

This is Jack, He's a Border Terrier, and he is the worlds youngest surfing dog.

This is Koda, Australia’s smallest Horse.

Lotharios, Lone Rangers and the Bland Face of British Politics

2009-08-07T07:08:00.000-07:00

British people are losing interest in politics and I don't blame them. Never have I seen a group of more lifeless characters. Even the recent expenses scandal didn't make anyone seem more interesting - the most exciting thing claimed for was a floating duck house. In the good old days of Sleaze, everyone would have had a pair of furry handcuffs at the very least. The best we've had in recent years was Boris Johnson failing to reveal that he'd been shagging his secretary. David Cameron's recent radio gaffe was nothing. When I saw the headline "Cameron in Four-Letter Radio Outrage" I immediately assumed it would be one of the big three, but twat is barely even swearing. It's a modern-day equivalent of fiddlesticks.

The rest of the world is fast overtaking us. France for example has Nicolas Sarkozy. This man is the living embodiment of his country: Short, big-nosed, hot-wifed and increasingly clinging on to his former glory. So keen is this man to prove that he isn't getting older and shorter, he recently ran himself to collapse - a feat which contributed to a 12% leap in popularity. He currently enjoys an approval rating of some 53%.

Silvio Berlusconi in Italy is doing equally well, with an approval rating of 49%, despite ongoing sex scandals throughout his incumbency. In April this year Berlusconi announced as his candidates for the European Parliament a cavalcade of bimbos, actresses and ex-models, which prompted his then wife, Veronica Lario, to write her third open letter to La Republica, expressing her disapproval. Then in May, Lario announced she was filing for divorce after Berlusconi attended the birthday party of 18-year-old Noemi Letizia, who claimed that she called him papi and that he had promised to take care of her career as "a showgirl or a politician". Nice to see that she's keeping her options open. Photos later appeared which seemed to show Letizia at Berlusconi's Sardinian Villa, cavorting topless with a number of other women around a sun-drenched swimming pool. When asked why the women were naked he replied "Do you take a shower dressed?" It is also claimed that he spent two nights with escort Patrizia D'Addario, who was reportedly given €2,000 by a mutual friend. Berlusconi hit back at the rumours, saying "I have never paid a woman. I have never understood what satisfaction there is if the pleasure of conquest is absent", a statement which would have spelled his political death in the UK.

Silvio Berlusconi has also seen some of the greatest coolings of international relations since Hitler looked at Poland and said "See that? That's mine that is." He made the "Cuckold" sign over the head of the Spanish Foreign Minister during a photoshoot, compared German MEP Martin Schulz to a kapo, claimed Mussolini was a "benign dicator" who had his opponents "sent on holiday," and has offended the Finns, the Chinese, the Americans, the Icelandic and our very own Good Queen Liz, who asked "Why does he have to shout?"

Finally I come to Vladimir Putin - The Russian Bear. Not content with 8 years as president, Putin was nominated as prime minister in 2008, which means we've got at least four more glorious years. The ex-KGB man has come under international criticism for his oppressive rule - he was slammed by Human Rights Watch in 2008 as a "repressive" and "brutal" leader on par with the leaders of Zimbabwe and Pakistan.

Last week the Russian PM released an outrageous compilation of media stunts, including videos and photos of him bare-chested on horseback, shooting siberian tigers and swimming in icy lakes. Compare this to Gordon Brown's last holiday in Southwold, sitting on a damp beach eating fish and chips and you start to realise why Putin's approval rating is hovering around 80%, while Brown can barely win the admiration of a quarter of the population.

So come on Brown, Cameron, Clegg - shag some people, offend an entire nation, say it like it is, kill a panda or push an opponent down a flight of stairs. I don't care what it is but do something, because at the moment it's like trying to choose between rice, potatoes and pasta - you're all just flavourless filler.

Brits Piss on Freedom!

2009-08-06T12:18:00.000-07:00

Its not big, it's not clever but mercy me when you've had a few its funny.

British people pissing in public has been frowned upon in almost every place in the whole entire world since Britain flaked out and started giving back the Empire (what else is there to do). But Latvia has finally had enough, strapped on a pair of political balls and with a wag of their finger has sent English stag doers to the European naughty step.

The mayor of the Latvian capital of Riga has finally had enough with some of the 93,000 British tourists that visit Latvia's capital every year and is in the process of pooling together some of the bravest policemen to go undercover and oust these unruly patrons.

He is "thinking about making a tourist police who will be located in the old town and will pay more attention to these tourist issues." A new wave Gestapo springs to mind. A group of mild mannered Latvian locals who pull sting operations on unsuspecting football louts, bang them up and send them on a non-stop flight back to Blighty.

The final straw for this city was the continual desecration of Riga's Freedom Monument, a memorial that salutes the brave soldiers killed during their fight for freedom between 1918 and 1920. The Monument itself has become a giant urinal/jungle gym. If the Brits aren’t pissing off something then they’re hanging off it half naked and poised for a photo.

At least when the British take the piss, they take the piss properly.

Why have porn mags gone flaccid?

2009-08-05T04:04:00.000-07:00

As far as I'm aware, masturbation Began on July 28th 1914. The world saw a new threat making it's latest advance into there homely lives and the only thing left a man could do was to shape up, join the forces and settle in for two years of mandatory handatory under the watch of the German war machine. Nothing feels more like home when you're in a wet French trench than reaching climax over a saucy picture of a loved one. And that’s when porn began.

I know I’m just being stupid, but before World War 2 if you'd have told any young female that all men at one point in their lives had engaged in eye to eye combat with their "Best interest", they would have fainted into the sink they were chained to. Masturbation just wasn't in the publics best interest to know about.

The war brought around many many things. but they all sat around the ideal of freedom, and with that freedom came a more liberal way of thinking, and with that thinking and a little bit of time came the 60's. The beginning of the porn revolution. And the biggest thing to cum (I’m so sorry) out of that revolution was the porno mag.

For years the porno magazine reigned supreme, sitting high and mighty on the top shelf of dreams above the fishing monthly and gun hoe meltdown. this was an item with no shelf life, the doors behind which people where talking about masturbation had been flung open, and men were more than happy to stroll into the local newsagent and slam a copy of busty bitches down on the counter, never caring a shade what the young till operator was thinking in her hormone riddled head.

Even when I was growing up, dirty magazines were where I had my first encounter with the naked female body. someone would have a always stolen one of their dads mags or for some reason found one hidden in some bushes at the park. I don't know who takes porn to the park, I don't really want to know, but if it wasn't for that seedy weird person then I may have stayed innocent for a little bit longer. thank you weird creepy man, thank you.

But anyway the older and more tech minded we've got, the more ways there are to look at porn. The internet hit hard in the nineties and when it wasn't being used for online gaming it was being used as gateway to free porn. No longer were magazines being picked of the shelves, the only guys who still do are the kind of people who scream at lampposts and wear trench coats all year round. A snail trail of dust had hit the top shelf hard and with it came the blue card to shield the covers of these artistic joys and protect children’s minds from the realities of life.

Porno mags have put up a good fight but inevitably in time will be subjected to the vaults of history along with concord, yes, I believe porn mags are as worthy as concord.

I asked a friend of mine recently if they had ever bothered to read one of the articles in a porn mag*, when he said "I don't think I’ve ever held a porno before" I knew the crown had finally been passed on. Thank you dirty magazine, you shall be sorely missed.

*(You should by the way, they're so funny)

The President and the Hypocrisy: Ahmadinejad Does it Again

2009-08-05T01:20:00.000-07:00

Do Mahmoud's delusions of self grandeur know no bounds? Well apparently not. Today he was officially inaugurated as President of Iran and now has a fortnight to form a government, which must then be approved by the Iranian parliament.

After some thirty deaths and over 1,000 arrests during the street protests which followed his declaration of victory, his vow to "refrain from being autocratic and protect the freedom and dignity of individuals" rang as hollow as a particularly disappointing Kinder-Egg.

Enough to be getting on with? Nah. Following his swearing in he went on to say "The people of Iran are for a constructive dialogue... We will resist violations of law and abuse..." An ambitious goal for a man who has consistently silenced opposition, restricted press access and brutalised the Iranian people for the duration of his presidency.

Metrosexual? Fuck off, I'm Heteropolitan mate.

2009-08-04T11:04:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but I've had it with the gay abandon with which the word "Metrosexual" is applied. What began as a niche inhabited by the male customers of manicurists has now expanded to include everything from hair-straightening indie-types to those of us who don't like sugar in our cappuccino.

The word was coined by John Collins in his 1994 article "Here Come the Mirror Men" and was designed to describe the kind of man whose sole purpose is to spend money on looking good. Its origins lie in the plucked unibrow, the waxed shoulder, the shaved scrotum.

Now don't get me wrong, I fuss over my appearance, as any gentleman ought. Plain ol' Heterosexual is a little rough around the edges for me. But to be lumped in with the sort of preening tit who will buy an £80 hand cream if it's advertised by a smouldering David Beckham is just too far beyond the pale red. You won't catch me wearing the skin of a freshly killed rabbit as a bloody hat, but then neither can I be found cooing over the latest aromatic bellend-exfoliator.

The word itself is ugly - it sounds like the sort of person who might expose themselves to you on the Parisian underground, then run off shouting, "Je suis une (and it would be une) Metrosexual, a-hawhehawhehaw". Etymologically the word takes its roots from the Greek meter, meaning "Mother" and the Latin sexus, meaning "oh come on you can work this one out by yourselves". So a Metrosexual is quite literally a motherfucker.

Thus, I favour heteropolitan - altogether a much more sensible word. Within its literal meaning (hetero - different, other, as one; politan - from the Greek for city and also the root of politics and politeness) can be found a wealth of positive characteristics. It suggests a debonair gentleman, a man of independent mind, of moral integrity, of worldly knowledge. But above all it denotes a man worthy of some fucking respect. Not because of his salary or looks, his muscle-bound frame or his sporting prowess, but because he is in all honesty a damn good bloke.

Insufferable little turds

2009-07-22T12:49:00.000-07:00

Welcome to a new section on this new blog of about two weeks. We were thinking of new section ideas this week and I believe we’ve struck gold.

So what is an insufferable little turd, and how does one manage to achieve such a prestigious title I hear you cry. Well let me explain, first of all you have to match a specific bullet pointed criteria before you’re even considered. The criteria list is as follows.

Tick next to appropriate.
. Obnoxious.
. Dry heave inducing.
. Face smack ability 1-10.
. Obvious pushy parents.
. Silly name.
. Not much going on upstairs (Beckham/Efron syndrome).
. Overly modest.
. Overly cocky.
. Over 5 million in the bank.

As you can see, we’re covering all the turdy little bases.

The last thing our lucky winners have to have is at least one monumental annoying characteristic. Whether it be a haircut, a smile, a tattoo or a shitty little dog in a purse, it is this element that makes all the difference.

SO without further ado, let me open the halls with the first of many, many "Insufferable little turds" young Thomas Daley, the fifteen year old diving supreme from the heart of Plymouth, brought up on a diet of beatings and weetabix (I've heard), Daley has just been crowned 2009's world 'queen' of the diving platform in Roma, but here at the world supplement we are gracing you with an even bigger win.

So what are Thom’s unique qualities, his annoying turdy graces‘.

If you have never heard this guy… sorry, boy in a interview then you are lucky, and by all the good in my body I beg of you never put your self though it. Its like a hail storm of little twatery phrases all topped off with a camp little lisp. I know the lisp isn’t his fault but still, what a turd. Everything that comes out of his mouth makes you want to kick his whiney little head in. also he looks like a cross between Ben ten and Action man, its not right, he should be out kicking footballs and burning down buss stops, not prancing off a diving board for the amusement of six shady looking judges, while ten other men in Speedo’s stand on the side line re-adjusting themselves and talking about entry technique. Go home Thom, you’re to young for this world of watery debauchery.

And to top it all off he’s the world champion and he could only manage 7th in the Olympics, cheeky little sod, I had a fiver on him.

Please comment your suggestions for our next ‘Insufferable little turds’ at the bottom, lets build this.

"Throw them a life raft and they can go back to Libya"

2009-07-08T12:08:00.001-07:00

In the week in which the world joined together in love and harmony to bury a twice court summoned, non convicted paedophile, it would seem that to grab any media attention you would really have to unchain any ethical padlock you might have connected to your brain and come out swinging with a statement bigger than the king of pop‘s death. Lucky for us then that we have BNP leader Nick Griffin on tap, ready to verbally shit ignorance into his chaving publics ears.

Today Griffin undoubtedly made one of his most unshamefully racist interviews since being elected. It seems that he is now planning to don the eye patch and parrot, man the cannons and blast all incoming immigrants back to the war torn countries from whence they came.

A quote from Griffin which I have pulled from the BBC website pretty much sums up the blind ignorance of The BNP and all those that choose to follow.

”Europe has sooner or later to close its borders or its simply going to be swamped by the Third World”

Really? This statement lacks any type of real proof, or in fact humanity. I really don’t believe that Griffin has run his fake figures through any type of predictory software, and even if he has the fact of the matter is he’s an arse who has just as much right to be here as anyone else. Yes immigration is a tough subject that needs reviewing in this country, but in many peoples opinion it should be a self regulating system, where revolving doors surround the coastlines and people are greeted with a pat on the back and a tenner in their hand, then trotted in with a few words of encouragement. “If it‘s not for you , check out is in Felixstowe” or “come on in, we’re 90% less ignorant than when Griffin was around”

Extra supplement:

No alliance for Griffin.
It also seems that like a fat kid in a playground, no-one wants to play with the BNP. The party has been trying to form alliances with other parties in the European Parliament, but as of yet hasn’t found anyone willing to play catch with. This means that the new kids on the block will have to take a back seat in the class while the big boys at the front make fun.