Tuesday, March 31

Da Nerd Herd


I'm sitting in the front room of the new abode and in the next room sits my sister, my girlfriend and three friends playing a fantasy board game called Descent.
Now, it is perhaps a little known fact that my girlfriend is a supernerd.
Little known if you don't know me, I suppose. And maybe even if you do.
It was subtle at first. Gaming consoles started to pile up. Gamecube, PS2, Nintendo DS, Xbox and many more. The comics started to appear everywhere, action figures were being bought and not taken out of their boxes and then came the question every red-blooded male out there dreads:
"Will you come and play the Battlestar Galactica board game with me and my friends after work?"
"Crikey", I thought. "This is worse than I thought."
So now it's Descent. There appears to be a glut of dragony things and goblins. There's dice involved. It's all a bit Mason-esque and odd. So I will remain in the other room hiding away from the potion-buyers and sword-wielders, drinking my can and blogging my blog.
I slapped a review of Animal Collective together for the 'D so have a look and see if you agree. The goblins approach, I must fly.

Thursday, March 12

Maybe tomorrow I'll want to settle down. Until tomorrow I'll just keep moving 'round dededede dededede


It's been a mentally draining week.
The weather has taken a rapid turn towards the Spring and we've been moving house. In the middle of that was a massive family booze-up, packing stuff for the move, stressing over deposits and arguing over the unpacking.
I have realised I am not human; I'm a Womble.
I collect an ungodly amount of shit and then pack it all away in plastic bags (which I've also kept for some reason...Tower bags seem to be a favourite) to be viewed at later dates.
So far I've uncovered TV guides from 2007, train tickets with chewing gum in them, college notes from years ago, clothes I haven't worn in 3 years and jazz mags I forgot I had (that was Sinead's discovery, much to her delight. They're good ones too...at least, they were good ones)
At first I was a little wary of the whole moving thing. I love the other place and if you saw the photos on Daft I think I linked to a while ago, you'd probably see why. The new place is a good deal though, great pub up the road and much bigger and more 'homely'...I think. It even has a fireplace.
Been trying to plot some kind of hoildays the last while and Primavera is getting ever closer. Feel like I really need a break and that would the ultimate one this year, given the cracking line-up.
Anyway, I'll leave you with a few tracks from albums I've been listening to recently.
A dash of the Bonnie Prince, a banging track from DOOM's latest and a nice bit of work from Ohio drone-ambient peddlers, Emeralds
Toodle pip.

Bonnie Prince Billy - Beware Your Only Friend
DOOM - Gazzillion Ear
Emeralds - Alive in the Sea of Information

Tuesday, March 10

Badges? We ain't got no badges. We don't need no badges. I don't have to show you any stinking badges.


I've gorged on films in my recent influenza-induced fragile state so here's a round-up featuring ten word reviews.

Frozen River: A quiet but edgy drama with great performances and ice.

Hamlet 2: Steve Coogan as a weirder-than-Partridge drama teacher. Funny.

Lakeview Terrace: Samuel L. menaces, shouts and is a racist cop. Average.

Eden Lake: Sexy Fassbender, sexy Reilly, violent Skins arsehole, bloody and good.

Wendy and Lucy: Haunting, elegiac, arty, subtle, heartbreaking, thoughtful, timely, go see it.


Wendy and Lucy from stian hilton on Vimeo.

Gran Torino: Craggy old racist makes you laugh. Prepare for some melodrama.

Slumdog Millionaire: Overrated, contrived. Not bad though and well-directed by Boyle.

Rachel Getting Married: Manga-faced Hathaway is good but film is too yuppyish.

If you only see one of these, make it Wendy and Lucy. And then check out director/writer Kelly Reichardt's previous film, Old Joy.
And I know you've counted the words so yes, the L in Samuel L. Jackson counts as a word here.

Sunday, March 8

H is for home


Is there something about a hangover that sharpens your ears?
When I left the house this afternoon, I opted to leave the ipod behind and let the sweet strains of Ringsend and Landsdowne be my soundtrack.
It was beautiful.
The singularly rotten sound of squelching as my Conversed foot plunged into a large mound of canine excrement. The young whippersnappers kicking their football off a discarded trolley, a trolley that once may have held groceries for a loving family or maybe for an old couple who still hold hands when they stroll.
The aural wonder of cars sounding their horns at each other because 'the fucking lights are greeeeeen, ya fuckin' cuntcha'. The crackling sound of sausages deep-frying, seagulls screeching and dogs barking at their own tails.
Where's my ipod?

Saturday, March 7

The S Word

As distasteful as a plethora of conservatives may find it, socialism is the concept that could, possibly, bring America's, and the world's, economy back to life.


Check out this article from The Nation, 'Reimagining Socialism'

But Obama doesn't see his actions as those of a socialist

Of course, Chavez has to get his word in too

And, lastly, let us not forget the paranoia of some Americans

It's all getting quite interesting, innit?

Wednesday, March 4

The hunt is on....and you're the prey.


Blogger and Wordpress duel it out

What are the differences between (or advantages of having) Blogger and/or Wordpress? And why are we not all on Livejournal? Who invented the word Captcha? Awful word.

Tuesday, March 3

Blunt Force Trauma


Currently doing the business on the Hollyweird scene and plugging her movies on a few shows, in a change of gender (unusually) 'Hunk' of the Week is Ms Emily Blunt.
Devil Wears Prada was shite (Meryl Streep is easily the most annoying actress working today), except for Ms Blunt and she will be popping up as a Young Queen Victoria in the next while.
Normal service will return soon but as it's my blog, if I want to objectify Ms Blunt, I will. Same as I objectified Hugh Jackman a while back. And he went on to host the Oscars.

Monday, March 2

Porn stars, Paul McKenna and me or how I learned to stop procrastinating and love the blog.


Saved By The Bell, David Lynch-styleee

One of the more interesting aspects of much-maligned but ultimately harmless Twitter (sorry to bring it up again..) is 'following' hardcore porno stars like Bella Donna and Sasha Grey.
Their twatters (titter titter, fnar fnar) were featured in a Sunday paper a few weeks ago and so I naturally signed up as quickly as I could. Where would I be without research, eh?
Essentially, they use Twitter to promote various DVDs and shows but to give you a taste of what kind of output (careful..)they are producing (....) this is basically it:

10am : Woke up, still sleepy, need a frappuccino

12:15: Can't believe my dog is soooo cute LOL. He's the best you guys.

3.27: Arrived at work and haven't even had dinner yet. Real hungry.

4.24: Wow, Aiden's cock is sooo massive and I had three in my ass 5 minutes ago!!

6:17: Time for home again and ice-cream.Yummy.


It's the equivalent of watching that part in Fight Club where Brad inserts(crikey) the Johnson into the kids' film.
It can also be highly amusing as other Twitterers pop up saying the usual daily twattery things and then up pops a reference to girl-on-girl dildo action and a conveniently attached pic.
Not for the office at all at all - unless you work in a porn office.
If there is such a thing.
Probably not an office you'd want to see a stapler or ring-binder in.

Now, I have a treat for you. No-one can resist the mid-Atlantic tones of new media's favourite bespectacled huckster, Paul McKenna, so check out the top dollar creepiness factor on this recording of his, which I found on some Torrent site, that is meant to boost self-confidence. I couldn't resist it. My confidence was at a dangerously low 99.7% and needed topping up. And I figured it would be hilariously deranged.
If you don't need a red hot shower immediately after hearing any portion of this, you officially have the platelet-count of a paedophile or some ilk of deranged sex-offender and you should frog-march yourself directly to the nearest Garda station, strip naked, douse yourself in Tesco own-brand voddy and light a match.
He even layers his voice at one stage and creates a trippy 'McKenna all over your ears' effect. Horrid. I promise not to do this to you again. And by that I mean I will seek out new ones as often as possible, gradually replacing the recordings with my own voice and gathering together an army of blogger 'sleepers' ready to do my bidding the moment I use the trigger-word. The task would most likely involve murder and VIP magazine in some way. Or making me an omelette with especially strong cheese.

Paul McKenna - How to be creeped out in the most heinous way


I'm off to listen to a bit of Bonnie Prince Billy's Beware (available from Drag City here to pre-order). More on that again. Now...sit back and relaaaaax. Let my voice sooooooothe you......