The Living Deadbeat

Not to be outdone by their lower profile cousins (see Stoned Wallabies Make Crop Circles) a group of drunken kangaroos staged an elabourate east Australian bigfoot hoax. Creating a vibrant media storm around a single photograph, the “hoax” might have evaded detection if the munted marsupials hadn’t insisted it wasn’t simply a creature of the bigfoot genome but was in fact the original bigfoot on holiday. The assertion was hammered home when the second series of photos were released in which the bigfoot can be seen eating icecream and wearing lime green hawaiian shorts and a pair of giant novelty sunglasses.

We eagerly await the release of the 3rd series of bigfoot photos in which the sasquatch puts his face through a hole in a piece of cardboard on the other side of which is painted the body of a lady in old fashion swimwear.

Ya sure, we can all agree that Al Gore’s epic lecture fest, “An Inconvenient Truth”, is an important and valuable film. Of course its great, you have to say that or else you’ll be cast as a dirty enviro-hater. To be honest though, would you really watch it again? Like, all of it? Probably not. What it needs is an awesome twist that really hammers home the message. Like vampires.

Here’s the film pitch. Almost everyone is a vampire. The last of the humans are hunted and put on Matrix style life support machines that drain their blood. But because of poor financial advice Vampire Corp has used up all its resources (ie. people juice). The blood thirst removes the last remaining humanity from the Vampire community turning them savage.

Oh ya and its got a Wilhem Defoe in it with a big ass crossbow and its totally a real film that I’m not making up!

2009 is the 40th anniversary of the the gratuitously iconic love-up that is Woodstock. Two Woodstock concerts (Yes thats right. Two) will take place this year to celebrate the auspicious occasion. One will take place in the original setting of Woodstock, New York and the second will occasion in Berlin for all us cheese munching, sausage sucking euro-bums. Both concerts will be, in the tradition of Woodstock, free.

You know this because I know this. I know this because a drunk man in a pub told me. So there.

That’s the exact headline of an interesting BBC News story.

In a spectacular show of ingenuity, a young artist has proven that she has more free time than Mr. Chainsaw. The creator, Mari Kasurinen, has remodelled the always fun and yet never opposable “My Little Pony” to be more boy friendly. They sell for 330 dollars a pop and are the perfect gift for your spoilt hermaphrodite nephew…./niece.

Link for He-man, Chewbacca and many more puzzlingly wrong reimaginings.

Photo from the lovely folks over at heyokay.com.

Game on.

Blake Schwarzenbach was the singer and guitarist for the (now defunct) bands Jawbreaker and Jets To Brazil, and he’s currently the frontman in the band Thorns Of Life. He writes great songs and you should probably look into him if you like indie/punk/alternative/rock music.

Have you ever wanted to say something but knew in your heart only a hack sci-fi spin-off writer could find the words to communicate your true feelings. Well your in luck. Members of www.logolalia.com/alteredbooks write on, paint over and basically destroy books to create what is affectionately know as “art”.

The above extract is from modern classic “Star Trek TNG: Survivors”. Here’s hoping that this poem is included in the Oxford English Critical Edition of “Star Trek TNG: Survivors”.

Recently this whole bloody language thing has been, respectfully, getting on my tits . I am notably perturbed by the whole affair and am experiencing a not liliputian amount of pericombobulation. A language is an ever evolving beast, constantly changing and growing. Kind of like when charmander changes to charazard and becomes a dickhead. Languages are monstrous combinations of thought, perception and conception. Created by millions of people over thousands of years with only a very vague sense of rules which no one really even pays attention to anyway. So it is perfectly understandable that some words seem…just plain buggering wrong. I know the honourable Mr. Chainsaw finds the word “concession” simply unbearable and I myself have been rubbed the wrong way up the Autobahn by the word KISS for some time now. For something so tender, soft and wet the word is too harsh and sharp. Saying the word pulls ones mouth into a tooth-bearing sneer. It should describe a snake latching onto the neck of a supple young calf or a blade piercing the belly of an accountant with a balloon fetish who took a shortcut through a back alley to avoid passing his ex-wife’s apartment and is now thoroughly regretting the whole affair. In a world where we couldn’t move our mouth without talking a kiss would be a soft gentle word that pulls your mouth into a pucker. Like moop. Its fun to say and fun to do. Moop. Try it.

“Kiss me Heathcliffe”
…Moop.

This is my campaign. My cause to rebel, to struggle tooth and nail tearing at society’s blonde wig with the very teeth I chew my delicious Raisin Wheat with! Out with Kiss. In with Moop. Join me brethren! When we stand on the ashes of the twenty first century, 195 flags burning in the sky, we will stand united and scream at the stars “moop!”

Moop.