Friday, May 13, 2005

Friday 13th...

and my head is so empty today. Took another day of work cause I can't stand the place and feel like I'm in a mental vacuum. Been trying to do constructive stuff for days now but can't bring myself to do it. There's always something on the telly or my ps2 calls to me and that's it. Trying to get a new job is like trying to climb the north face of the eiger (whatever that is). Trying to be creative and write something ground breaking and moving that will get me out of this place and into a cushy writer’s job is so impossible, break dancing on the moon would be easier.

Reading the new Ben Elton book at the moment Past Mortem (incidentally if you haven’t read it, read Dead Famous. If you don’t like Big Brother (or if you do for which you have my deepest sympathies on the accident that left you so brain damaged) you'll love it. It's brilliant and so insightful it hurts). I need to start writing stuff. I'm getting old for god's sake, there isn't that much time left or at least that's what it feels like. God I'm depressing myself. Probably doesn't help that I've quit drinking either.

I'm staring out the window down at the little terraced street I live in and I just can't come up with one single original thought. Nothing, not a goddamn, fucking sausage. How do other people do it? My girlfriend starts writing in work and comes up with about 10 sides of A4 by the time she gets home. I'm also reading a book by Steven King about writing and he says I should be coming up with about a thousand words a day! A thousand! Jesus Christ I'm lucky if come up with a hundred. There’s only three hundred here and these don’t count. Why can’t I aspire to something realistic? Why can’t my dream be to work in a call centre? Then it would be job done – dream come true but no I’ve got to want to be some arty farty prick that writes for a living but is unfortunately the laziest goddamn arsehole on the planet and is about as motivated as a dustbin.

Still, getting things into perspective I’m only 32 right? Plenty of time yet. Best thing I can do is relax. I wonder if there’s anything on telly…

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Bored...

There was a young man from Nantucket
Who lived all his life on the run.
He fell down a hole
Went into a roll
and never again saw the sun.

There was a young girl from Barbados
Who spent her life hating her bra
She threw it away
Laughed all through the day
And now keeps her tits in a jar.

I thank you.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Computers Suck.

Nuff said.

Reformatting this bastard is not a constructive use of a day off. Unfortunately some arse-licker feels the need to fill my bloody computer up with spyware that I can't get rid of (and this is after3 years as an internet support monkey).

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Geek Whinge!

Time for a big old geek whinge from yours truly. The topic of today’s whinge is movie adaptations of comic books!!!!! Why is it that when someone sees a comic and thinks "yeah you know what that would make a great film. Could really do something with that. Hey Bob! Bob! Come over here and check this out. Don't you think we could do something really cool with this? Yea you know what I think we should do?

CHANGE FUCKING EVERYTHING AND JUST KEEP THE NAME!!!!!"

Ok maybe that’s an over reaction (unless you've seen Catwoman in which case ha fucking ha it serves you right) but seriously. How hard is it to take a primarily visual concept and transfer it to a screen? Christ a comic is practically a ready made storyboard. It can be done well, it has been done well. X-Men 1 and 2, Hellboy, The Punisher (in my opinion). All perfectly worthy efforts and do a good job of bringing iconic comic characters to the big screen. Sin City looks bloody awesome.

Unfortunately the list of shit is a bit longer. Constantine, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Daredevil, Judge Dredd, Hulk, the last two Batman films, Elektra, Catwoman (could talk about that bag of crap alnight long) and (possibly controversial) the two Spider Man films. Now some of the films in the shit list as films aren't necessarily that bad. As films that is but as comic adaptations they bite. I could go into details of why I dislike these films so much but they all have one thing in common. They have all almost completely ignored or thoroughly bastardised the source material.

The reason the good ones are good is that they take something good and bring out the best points while remaining true to what it is that looked so good in the first place. Now I understand that comic fans are a very very small part of the audience when these films are made for however many millions and that they have to have a wide market appeal but why should that mean that what you saw in a piece in the first place is what you then feel the need to change? Why is it better for example that John Constantine should be a black haired American from LA rather than a blonde man from Liverpool? Why is it better that Bruce Banner have major father and anger issues rather than have been at ground zero in a nuclear attack? Why is it better that Catwoman be a million miles away from anything that has to do with her character and be some bloody awful woman so far up her own arse that she's inside out? (Sorry mistaking the character and the actress on that last point.)

The reason that this has come to mind is that it appears that X-Men is going to travel down the same road. They have cast Vinnie Jones to play a character in X-Men called Juggernaut. Check it out if you don't believe me: http://filmforce.ign.com/x-men/articles/605/605113p1.html?fromint=1 . Juggernaut is to put it mildly bloody enormous. He's about the size of the Hulk. Now I don't doubt that Vinnie has the attitude to play him but why bother? If you're not going to remain true to the comic, make another film. Constantine would have attracted much better press if they hadn't called it Constantine as it wasn't a bad film; it just got murdered as it wasn't anything to do with Hellblazer (a fate I suspect will also befall the Preacher movie due soon). As Tom Jane (The Punisher) said in one of his interviews. It's the source material that attracted you to the piece in the first place so why fuck with it?



Rant Over.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Hangover.

The title says it all. Feeling crappy but had a good night. Was dragged out by my girlfriend to the pub with her family. The beer flowed like- well like beer to be honest. Three pints of Budvar later and I'm heading down pissed boulevard and not stopping for anyone or anything. Of course there was intellectual conversation all round. Some of the more contencious issues were.

1 Is Bill Gates a twat or not. (He is)
2 Is the new Doctor Who any good or not (It is)
3 Should teachers be able to whack kids (they should)

The night continued in that vastly intellectual vein, ending with yours truly doing his usual rounds of "I love you, you're fucking great you are." before staggering home to watch the end of Rocky II.

Morning after. Ah sweet beautiful Saturday. Even my banging head and rotting guts can't diminish the beauty that is you. Off to have a fag and my twentieth cup of coffee hoping it will make me feel better (it won't)

Ta

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Saturday....

is the best goddamn day of the week. Still far enough away from Monday so that the evils of work don't pray on your mind. This is my first ever job that is Mon - Fri 9 -5 and it freaking rocks. I now understand what all the fuss is about weekends. it starts when you first wake. That grinding feeling that you have to get up for work then the sudden, beautiful, joyous realization that it's SATURDAY!!!!!

Mosey downstairs, have a leisurely cup of coffee and a fag. On with the TV. Bit of old Dr who on uk gold then whatever the hell you want for the rest of the day. playstation, writing, beer garden if it's a nice day.

So much better than Sunday as the hell that is work is well and truly looming by then (and you're probably hungover to shit after Saturday night).

The world is your oyster and Saturday is the pearl.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

random mumblings

Here's a story I just made up cause I'm bored.


Jim made himself a cup of tea and turned on the telly. There was a rather dodgy film on. Some swords and sorcery flick that wanted to be The Lord of the Rings but failed miserably. He watched as the elf turned round and aimed her bow at the group of badly made up orcs and groaned to himself as the sword struck the wall trailing sparks. Bored with the programme, he switched off the telly and went down the pub. As he was leaving the house, he saw a car driving slowly down the road. The car pulled up outside the house across the street from him and two men got out and walked towards the door. He strolled to the end of his street and entered the pub humming to himself.

Looking around the quiet pub he saw what he was looking for. A youngish man sitting alone reading a book. He bought a pint and leaned on the bar watching him, checking out the book he was reading. He walked over to the fruit machine next to the man and put a couple of quid in, not really paying attention to the machine.

“Sorry to interrupt but is that any good?” Jim smiled down at him. The young man looked up momentarily lost in his own little world.
“Sorry?”
“The book. Is it any good? I’ve heard a lot about it.”
“Yeah I’m really enjoying it. Didn’t think I would to be honest. The whole religion thing really isn’t my cup of tea but it’s a good read.”
“Do you mind?” Jim gestured to the stool next to him.
“Help yourself.”

Jim sat down and they chatted for a while. Jim offered him another drink and the man accepted. Jim went to the bar, smiling to himself and bought another two pints slipping the drug into the second> he grinned at the barmaid who was scowling at him. She shook her pretty blonde head and walked away

“Here you go. Cheers” they both raised the pints and drank. Just a matter of time now, Jim laughed to himself.
“What’s funny?”
“Just thinking about something I saw on TV earlier.”


Later back at his house, Jim watched the man lying unconscious on his sofa. He really shouldn’t have done this so close to home but he was so bored he had to do something. He walked in from the kitchen holding the meat cleaver and went about his business. As he hacked at the body sweat dripped from his forehead. It was such a hot night. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work on the severed head.


He watched the pot boiling, thus disproving another proverb. Occasionally he stirred it and tasted the water. He was right the boy had been a virgin and tasted divine. The sun was already rising outside. Soon be time for bed. He started out of the window watching the day dawn. The flower slowly turned its petals towards the sun and in the field behind his house he watched as the dog from next door jumped over the fence. Suddenly he heard a noise from the living room. Frowning he went to investigate. Standing in the living room was the barmaid smiling at him, holding something behind her back. The room was covered in blood so there was no point Jim trying to play innocent. Ah well another plaything. He’d keep her for tonight though. He walked towards her grinning.

The last thing he felt was the stake in his chest as he exploded in a shower of dust. The girl opened the curtains and shut the door on her way out.