BETAMAXNOMATES

Ah, that's better. I don't want to jinx it or anything but the sidebar appears to be fixed. For now. It as, at least, actually on the side now, as opposed to being stuck down the bottom. Which is nice. Now, let's forget our troubles with a nice cool glass of antiseptic mouthwash...

To convey a proper sense of scale I've put one of my shoes next to it. Bear in mind though that, as I'm unusually tall, my shoes are (probably) about three times the size of yours so try and think of the shoe as being about the length of your forearm and you should get some idea of the size of this thing. It really is very big. And surprisingly heavy, considering it's a hollow plastic shell. The story of how I came to own a fake TV is fairly boring so I won't recount it here. Suffice to say, it seemed like a terribly good idea at the time. Now though I'm at a loss as to what to do with the thing. I suppose I could take pictures of myself smashing it with a hammer, setting it on fire, or just generally doing it a grave physical disservice but, alas, it's been done. At this juncture, I should point out that this entry was typed (lovingly) on a Mac.
So that's that. The desk story. As an opening gambit it's fairly weak, I'll admit. Try this for size. I saw Ronan Keating today. Which was rather exciting. He was outside Brown Thomas with his alarmingly skinny wife and they were both wearing sunglasses despite the fact that it was raining. He was laughing very loudly, jumping around a bit, and generally trying to draw as much attention to himself as possible while his alarmingly skinny wife was on the phone. Then they both went inside. I was about three feet away. And that's the Ronan Keating story. Makes that little ditty about the desk seem positively electrifying by comparison really.

I suppose I could talk a bit about music now. What do we all think of the new Arcade Fire then? *looks around, nervously trying to gauge the mood of the room* It's a bit... isn't it? A bit... y'know? I mean, I liked it, don't get me wrong - but I kind of hated it too? Like there were bits I really loved and then bits I really hated. A lot. I'm not sure which bits there were more of though. Like, I think it's brilliant. But it's rubbish really. Although to tell you the truth, I haven't listened to it yet. I mean, I've heard it but I haven't, y'know, listened to it. Yet. But I've read all the reviews, which is half the work really. In fact, having read all those reviews I feel no real need to actually hear the album ever again. I quite like the new Low album though. It's surprisingly excellent at times. I never really 'got' Low - until they completely changed their sound and basically became a different (and altogether better) band. I think I prefer The Great Destroyer overall but this - as well as the new LCD Soundsystem and Amon Tobin albums - is shaping up to be one of my favourites of the year thus far.
Filmwise, I haven't seen anything recently. The last movie I can remember watching from start to finish was some made-for-TV abomination with Roz from Frasier in it. There comes a point in your life - I discovered - where you have to ask yourself a very important question, a question that - prior to this point, this point in your life where you ask yourself the question - you may not have ever considered. Considered the question, that is. Basically, do you want to see a movie where Roz from Frasier gets raped? Is that something you want to see? Is that an image you want joining all the other visual unpleasantness you've archived in that bruised and battered psyche of yours? Roz getting raped. You know it's going to happen from the trailer you saw half an hour before the film so you have plenty of time to ponder this particular proposition. Roz getting raped. It's either something you want to see or something you don't. End of. Simple as. Too many cooks. So yeah, I watched the film from beginning to end. In my weakened mental state I (regrettably) decided that seeing Roz get raped was something I wanted to experience, something I wanted to be privy to, something I wanted seared on my brain, something I want to see when I close my eyes at night, something I want to think of every fucking time I see her tossing off another acerbic one-liner on the early morning Frasier repeats. I really do disgust myself sometimes. I gave up ninety minutes of my life to this - ninety minutes which could have been better spent watching one and a half episodes of The Wire on DVD. Anyone else watch The Wire by the way? I just finished watching season one and have already bought the next two boxsets, such is my devotion/financial irresponsibility.
Oh speaking of which, I quit my job yesterday. Sort of a spur of the moment thing. Decided I didn't want to do it anymore. Reckon I'll go to Japan in the summer, get a job there. Seems like the right thing to do. Anyway, I'm going to stop typing (lovingly) now as my housemate has just returned home to (no doubt) engage in some humourless Germanic sex with her boyfriend in the room next door and I want to get a listen. Not for any weird sexual reason or anything, just to record the audio and sample the various grunts and groans to use as a rhythm track in a Kraftwerkian 'Tour De France'-style conceptual music piece. Really. No, not really - that would be horrific beyond words. Let's wash that image/sound out of heads and watch Bill Bailey's rather funny Kraftwerk pastiche (below). See you in the funny pages (or alternatively, look out for my ad in I'm Poor! magazine). Toodles.

Some (vaguely) musically-themed Tubular delights now.
This is good. It's a song by the Junior Boys set to a clip from Bande à Part, a French film from olden days.



This is Tricky and PJ Harvey performing 'Broken Homes' together on Late Night With David Letterman from a few years back. It's as weird as it sounds. PJ is bewitching as ever. Tricky growls a bit and stares at his shoes. Meanwhile the gospel choir elevates the song to an almost religious level of intensity. Like most of Tricky's best work, it always sounds just on the verge of falling apart but somehow it all holds together. I don't have many people I consider 'heroes' but Tricky is a hero of mine for sure. I mean, he's clearly mad, and it's unlikely that he even remembers how to write a decent tune anymore, but I'll still listen to anything he puts out (even those worthless demo's on his MySpace page. Speaking of which...).



Here's the new Nine Inch Nails video. This is getting quite exciting. Trent is wearing a scarf! There's a topless woman!! There's some gay guys having gay sex!!! And some other stuff!!!! The song's a bit weak, but pay attention to the video as I believe it's heavily 'symbolic' and in no way just a rip off of Sliver.



Poncey French cinema, crazed people singing about broken homes, a chilling vision of a dystopian futurescape set to mild industrial rock... hey, what we need now is some Biff!