Alexander McQueen & The Money Machines

A Lesson In Prioritisation

The suicide of Alexander McQueen following the death of his mother rocked the fashion world last week. All over, newspapers plastered his death all over their front pages like so much pap-smeared wallpaper.

I can recognise that this is a tragic occurrence, yes, but worthy of front page news?! Hardly! At the same time Haiti gets flooded, washing out the hundreds of thousands made homeless in last month’s quakes. Also Greece got bailed out by the European Union, weakening the Euro and thus the European Economy which is what the strength of the Union is based upon. And if the impending threat of you losing your job, your house, your family AND your mistress wasn’t enough, now you might lose your whole country to the briefcase swinging, trouser wearing suits at the International Monetary Fund. Imagine a whole country run by accountants! Where charitable donations are only made to write off as tax exemption and only economic matters are tended to. Only the business colleges would get any funding!

That’s how accountants reproduce, you see, by turning unsuspecting trout-faced, tuck-their-trousers-into-their-socks morons, still vacant from school who inexorably end up doing a degree in business, into one of THEM!

And what are we doing about this, eh? Well? We’re using the terrible suicide of a well-respected designer who, frankly, nobody gives a chickens cock about and we gawp at it like goldfish miming a blowjob. Why? Because it’s either that or face some moniker of reality and, let’s face it, people these days are too god damn stupid to do that.

James Cameron’s Avatar

How to Gussy-Up a Hussy

In total, there are only so many types of movie out there. So when somebody walks up to me on the street with a big greasy pamphlet saying that “This movie will change your life, boy!” I respond by slowly backing away and calling the police cops.

Simple fact: Every idea has been done and done to death. The only way to look half-way original in Hollywood now is to gussy up that idea you’re using so it looks like something you made yourself without the help of your parents. Enter: James Cameron’s Avatar.

Without any doubt, this is one of the most visually stunning films in history. Pandora is this beautifully bioluminescent pearl orbiting a great blue behemoth of a planet and each and every scene on the planet surface is filled with awe and wonderment. In contrast the human base is grey and metallic, conveying a very artificial atmosphere.

***SPOILERS TO FOLLOW***

Fat Families

 

Absolutely Flabulous 

Modern culture, eh? For years it’s been telling us to be thin and pretty and fashionable but then, suddenly, there was this minor uproar! A raging squeak from the crowd of whiney recovering bulimics, who couldn’t hack the heaving, echoed about as loudly a guinea pigs death throe in a wind-tunnel. Unfortunately, the only people to hear it were in charge of magazines. Cue the pandering to public sympathy, and several years of “Oooh, being thin is awful!” 

Without warning, with the dawn of a new decade, the tables have turned back around. Only this time, the table is loaded with ridicule and is surrounded by camp so-called therapists pointing and laughing at some poor whale that has beached themselves in front of a camera. I speak of course of “Fat Families” (Wednesday, 8pm on Sky 1). Hosted by Steve Miller, who is less of a Space Cowboy and more of an … Bandit (so, no, not that Steve Miller), author of “Get off Your Arse and Lose Weight” and “Get off Your Arse and Grab that New Job”. Presumably, his next book will be called “Get off Your Arse and Bend Over.” 

What happens is that Miller goes from family to family of flabby, bloated people and uses “shock tactics” to get them to recognise their weight and its impact on their health in order to get them to change their lifestyle. He’s like a less severe and disgusting Gillian McKeith. Miller’s approach to encouraging weight loss is intriguing and comes across as somewhat genuine, which is quite the welcoming respite in “these types” (I’m such a racist) of shows. 

Damn and Blast!(phemy)

The Unsung Wisdom of Ireland’s Blasphemy Law

 January the 1^st saw the rolling out of Ireland’s new-look Blasphemy law as part of the Defamation Act. In it, blasphemy is defined as:

 “matter that is grossly abusive or insulting in relation to matters held sacred by any religion, thereby causing outrage among a substantial number of the adherents of that religion”.

“How could this have happened in a civilised society?!” you ask, mouth ajar and hips akimbo. Well, Colin, I’ll tell you. Back when the Act was just a dress rehearsal (Bill) in the Fabulist Theatre (Dáil) and merely a stain on the trousers of the future, the Irish people were more concerned with the collapse of the economy. Bankers were flailing atop high ledges and we were trying to talk them into jumping, so we were pretty distracted as a nation. Only one group really paid attention when the Bill was introduced: Atheist Ireland.