I remember when rock was young.
The songwriters had so much fun.
They took greetings of the holiday,
And played them in a rock-and-roll way!

First came Bobby Helms in 1957 with “Jingle Bell Rock.”

Then Brenda Lee upped the ante in 1958 with “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

Audiences swooned, and America’s department stores signed what can only have been an irrevocable, 200-year contract with Helms and Lee to play their songs every ten minutes from Halloween to New Year’s.

Despite near-total saturation of rock-and-roll Christmas songs, some artists have continued to inflict rock-themed songs on us.

(This song topped the Christmas charts in Britain in the ’80s, which is surely a black mark on Lady Thatcher’s premiership.)

Indeed, by the 1980s, they just needed to stop:

(Go, Santa, go . . . far away from here.)

And this profusion of rock-themed ohrwurms has brought with it a hideous array of covers, which are designed to fill in all the empty spots between the original “Jingle Bell Rock” and “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” on the radio. Because we care for you, we’ll leave you with only this example:

Okay, I confess. This semester has really had me muddled. I kept insisting that, as soon as I conquered this pile of grading, I was going to get back on track with everything else in my life. Basically, I’ve said that each week and have yet to do it. So I’m not going to promise I’ll be completely sorted until after the semester ends. That said, I have literally just finished my stack of grading. I only work tomorrow afternoon and then have six days completely off work (well, I’ve got to work four hours on the sixth day, but…it’s close enough). That’s not to say that I have no work to do—-but the main thing is I’ll have no grading to do.

So I’ve decided to post a music entry. I listen to the classic rock station in the car (the expensive iPod thing I got for the car and lent to Mr Long Term Ex immediately after buying doesn’t work, but he didn’t tell me this until the 30 day No Hassle Return period had passed). So essentially I listen to the radio for probably about an hour a day. Two things strike me as kind of odd. First off, they play Gary Glitter all the time. At first, I thought, well, maybe he didn’t get much coverage over here. But one time, after the song, the DJ came on and said, “Well, that was Gary Glitter who’s had a bit of trouble from the police.” A bit of trouble? It seems weird to me; it’s not like Americans are casual about pedophilia. I guess the fact that he made a song that gets crowds riled at sports events is more important. In fact, every morning when the DJ is announcing the high school sports scores, he plays “Rock n Roll Part 2″ in the background. It’s kind of sick if you think about it.

The other thing I’ve noticed is that at least once a week, they play the song “Along Again Naturally.” This also seems a bit strange to me. If you really listen to the lyrics, it is an incredibly depressing song. Basically he’s talking about wanting to commit suicide, his parents’ deaths, it’s really pretty tragic. But there’s also something about the tune, which makes it….not cheerful…but at least not quite so tragic. Here you go—have a listen, I’m sure I’ll have to at some point in the car this week.

I feel bad about this loyal FilmWipe readers.  For the second night in a row of my long awaited comeback, I am going to talk about how much I have hated a film.  Don’t get me wrong this film is no Rudo y Cursi. There are actually moments that are actually enjoyable.  However, the plot made my eyes, ears and brain wish that I was being kidnapped by the SS and whisked of to Krackow for instant execution.  Every single predictable minute was as excruciating as sand papering my genitals and then squeezing lemon juice on to them.  I would guess that within 30 second of the film making itself clear I knew what exactly what was going to happen.  I will be h0nest I feel the need to give a bit of the plot of the way in this review to clearly explain what is so bad about this.  Anyway, sit  back relax and find out why you should avoid, avoid, avoid An Education.

The film follows Jenny (Carey Muligan) a school girl growing up in suburban 60s London, aiming to go to Oxford.  She is repressed by her father, Jack (Alfred Molina) who makes her work obsessively in order to fulfil the ambition.  One day she is caught waiting for a lift in the rain.  After waiting for a long time for a bus on a rainy day, she is offered a lift home by David (Peter Sarsgaard).  He chases after her for several weeks impressing her normally hard line parents enough to letting her go on trips with him.  He shows her a life she could only imagine.  However, things turn sour when he proposes.  This leaves Jenny in the position of trying to decide whether she stays at school and goes to Oxford or leaves and gets married.

The acting in the film is generally very good.  Carey Muligan is superb as is Alfred Molina.  The father daughter relationship between the pair is both gritty and yet touching and has certain element of truth in relation to the era.  However, I did not understand the rationale behind Peter Sarsgaard and Dominic Cooper’s (Danny) casting.  The pair are both excellent actors, but should have been playing each others role.  Cooper is young and charming.  His obvious chemistry with Muligan (exhibited only for a brief second) was so intense it made the remainder of the relationship between Jenny and David seem flimsy at best.  Similarly Peter Sarsgaard would have suited the role of Danny much better.  Also it would have made the characters relationship with Helen (Rosamund Pike) seem plausible.  As it was Rosamund Pike looked as if she was doing an impersonation of Gary Glitter by dating someone dramatically younger than herself.  It looked appalling on screen and detracted from the film as a whole.

The script was excellent.  Nick Hornby (Writer of High Fidelity and About a Boy) wrote an excellent script with some absolutely brilliant lines.   However, the overall plot was dismal.  The idea of the fallen school girl seduced from her path of academic excellence, drawn instead to a sordid life of fun that almost costs her the dream but instead through hard work and determination achieves anyway, has been done so many times it might as well have been a plot line written by Plato (It probably was).  It would have been more interesting to see Jenny lose her future as a result of this relationship.  Instead the disappointing attempt to play everything safe was both weak and expected.

The worst bit of the film had to be its ending.  After rushing through the reclamation of Jenny’s life  the film flips to Oxford where she is a student.  Here Jenny gives the most patronising sentence  about the last hour and half which is comparable to the ending of the new crossroads “it was all a dream”.  Rubbish.

Overall this is ok.  It is worth watching, but is more of a present for someone you don’t like.  Treat them to this and they will get the message.

1/10 – Tiresome

The following is an excerpt from an actual conversation between Conrad Noir and Marco Sparks last night. Yes, this is what they’re really like…

Marco Sparks: So, you’ll never believe this dream I had the other night…

Conrad Noir: I don’t know if I’m really up for a conversation about your hopes and dreams, man.

Marco: Well, when I say “dream,” what I really mean is sweaty, dread-dripping nightmare.

Conrad: Oh yeah? Shit. Nevermind. You know I’m all ears for that. Shoot.

Marco: Well, I’ll tell you about the nightmare in a second, but first let me tell you about my Saturday night…

Conrad: Always a catch, isn’t there? Shit. Okay, tell me about your Saturday ni-

Marco: It was awesome. But then, later on, I was just trying to go sleep, right? And it’s late, I don’t remember the time, but late. So I turn on the TV and put it on mute, just wanting some flickering light and alpha wave manipulation in the room. Or something.

Conrad: Sure, sure. Perfectly normal.

Marco: So then I lay down on the bed. The room I’m in though, there’s no remote. Or, if there is, fuck if I know where it is.

Conrad: Oh, yeah, man’s constant struggle.

Marco: Right, so I’m stuck with whatever the channel is because, well, I’m lazy.

Conrad: I feel that.

Marco: In this particular case, it was A&E. The former Arts & Entertainment channel.

Conrad: “Former” being the operative word.

Marco: Seriously. Airing that late evening/early morning was a seeming non stop marathon of CSI: Miami episodes.

Conrad: Wow. Ouch.

Marco: Ouch is right. And let me tell you, I could not sleep with that on.

Conrad: How do you mean?

Marco: Every five seconds they cut back to a shot of David Caruso! Constantly! And let me tell you, Caruso has two emotional speeds on that show. The first: Putting on his sunglasses. The second: Taking them off again. People could be on fire, running around screaming, bits of their skin melting off or whatever as creatures of the apocalypse commit homicides or devour souls or just what have you, and Caruso’s cool as Fonzie the whole fucking time.

Conrad: That seems accurate with the little bits of it I’ve caught occasionally.

Marco: Also, it’s freakishly bright. Like, too bright and dayglo for even Miami.

Conrad: Okay.

Marco: It would not let me sleep! I turned over, looked at the flickering light patterns on the wall, like some kind of twisted variation on Plato’s Cave and I felt like Caruso was picking me up from the airport and driving me straight to madness!

Conrad: Caruso’s like that.

Marco: This is the guy from NYPD Blue to subjected America to his ass. Why would you want to see this man’s ass?!

Conrad: Or Dennis Franz for that matter.

Marco: Well… obviously. But, so I lay there, squeezing my eyes shut. But it was no good, man. I knew that Caruso was in the room with me. Putting his fucking sunglasses on. Or worse.

Conrad: Worse?

Marco: He could’ve been taking them off again…

Conrad: Okay, so this was the nightmare?

Marco: Oh, no, this was real. Deadly real. Eventually I must’ve passed out from all the stress of his ontological torture and when I woke up, of course, A&E was still on, right?

Conrad: Yeah, of course.

Marco: So, the sun is shining through the window, birds are chirping little songs and I’m a little tired, but I’m breathing a sigh of relief. I’m all like, “Thank God, it’s morning, I made it. I survived!”

Conrad: This is going somewhere bad, isn’t it?

Marco: You bet your goofy ass it is, my friend. Because there on the TV…

Conrad: Yeah?

Marco: Motherfucking Chris Daughtry was on the TV. Somebody was actually interviewing him!

Conrad: Ugh. Gross.

Marco: Exactly! Why would anyone want to interview that fucker? Why is he on the TV? Why did my day have to start with these violent images? It was like… last night I couldn’t enter the domain of sleep and now… Now I can’t be awake with this in the world!

Conrad: I feel like I need a drink now.

Marco: Me too. From just, you know, reliving that traumatic experience. From being the plaything of the sandman.

Conrad: So what was the nightmare?

Marco: Oh, the nightmare. Yeah, sorry. That was last night. I was like in a room, but I wasn’t. I was like “the camera” or whatever. Anyway, there was a little boy and he was trapped in the room. No windows, yet there was moonlight slipping around. And he was sleeping like a little shit does and then goblins crawled out of the cracks in the walls and out from under the bed and cut off his eyelids or something.

Conrad: Damn. I like that. I mean, that’s seriously creepy.

Marco: Yeah, it was something. When I woke up, I knew you’d love it.

Conrad: You were right. And goblins, you say? Wow. Goblins. That part is especially wild. People don’t throw around the word “goblins” all that much anymore.

Marco: Let me tell you something about goblins, my friend. Something you may not know. Something very few people may actually know.

Conrad: Do it.

Marco: Goblins, man. They’re no joke. They’re fucking scary, and they’re fucked up. And they will fuck you up. You understand me?

Conrad: Yes, I believe I do. But let’s talk about something important now. Let’s talk about me and my dreams. And my nightmares.

Marco: Take aim and fire away, baby.

Conrad: So, you know, I’ve been taking melatonin a lot lately, right?

Marco: Cause you can’t get your hands on ambien, right?

Conrad: Yeah, sorta. I got tricked into trying to go all natural, which is a sham. Whenever in doubt, just go with hard drugs.

Marco: Put that on a t-shirt.

Conrad: Don’t tempt me.

Marco: But I feel you. I have several friends who don’t realize they’re becoming recreational vicodin addicts, which is cool, cause this is America and shit. But I can’t do that stuff anymore. It gives me freaky nightmares. I mean, genuinely freaky nightmares. Like, where the goblins show up and tell me I’ll have erectile dysfunction for the rest of my life and or will be forever locked in a mortgage I can’t afford.

Conrad: As long as you’re not longer dreaming about Avril Lavigne, you’ll be fine.

Marco: I’ll have you know: That was a very special time in my life.

Conrad: Anyway… me. And my nightmare.

Marco: Do it.

Conrad: So, I guess you’re supposed to take melatonin only so much, right? Until it stirs up your… well, I don’t know. Something. Some kind of chemical. I’m not a trained doctor or anything. But you take it short term, you get some rest, you move on.

Marco: Gotcha.

Conrad: But I keep taking it because it gives me juicy nightmares. And I’m a horror movie fan.

Marco: I remember that you were a Freddy guy more than a Jason guy.

Conrad: Exactly! Anyway, so the one I had last night… Wowza.

Marco: Oh?

Conrad: Oh yeah. So I’m like wandering around in this fucked up, dark version of Chuck E. Cheese’s, right?

Marco: This already sounds terrifying.

Conrad: Oh, it was. Believe you me. It so was. And there’s all these fat, sweaty white people around me.

Marco: Your ultimate nightmare.

Conrad: My ultimate daymare, you mean. But there they are. And there’s famous gross white people there too. Like Jeffrey Dahmer.

Marco: I remember that Peanut used to date a guy who looked like Jeffrey Dahmer. Man, I hated that guy.

Conrad: Me too. Well, Dahmer, anyway. But he was the guy who, later on I discovered, didn’t belong in the dream. But there was other famous people too. Like Mary Kay Letourneau. And Roman Polanski. And Joey Buttafuoco. And Debra Lafave. And Pete Townshend. And Bobby Fisher. And Gary Glitter!

Marco: Oh shit. You were at a child molester convention!

Conrad: Exactly. By accident, of course. Once I realized what was going on, I was like, “Oh shit, I gotta get the fuck outta here!”

Marco: Shit. I hope so.

Conrad: So I take off for the door, right? But right as I get to it, I notice the little bulletin board listing who all the speakers are going to be at this thing.

Marco: So, it was like a proper convention then? With speakers and talks and things?

Conrad: Yes! Terrifying, right?

Marco: Very.

Conrad: So I’m running my finger down the board, just looking at all the famous names. I remember that R. Kelly was on there, of course.

Marco: Right. Yeah. “Age ain’t nothing but a number,” after all.

Conrad: And then I get to the end. The keynote speaker.

Marco: Ooh, this is going to be good, isn’t it? Who was it?

Conrad: I’m not bullshitting you here. It was Jon Gosselin.

Marco: Oh… wow.

Conrad: I know, right?

Marco: Yeah. Wow. Eeesh.

Conrad: But, whereas everyone else had their name and like a title of what their speech was going to be about or whatever, after his name… there was just one word. One single word.

Marco: What was it?

Conrad: It was simply… “Gangsta.”

Marco: Oh. My.

Conrad: Uh huh. It shocked me away. And I sat there, in my bed, just catching my breath from the sheer intensity of the thing. And I just whispered it back to myself. “Gangsta.”

Marco: Wow…

Conrad: Yeah, I know.

Marco: Yeah.

Conrad: Yeah.

Marco: Yeah, uh… let’s talk about something else, okay?

Its Monday so it must be…Just Impolite, my weekly topical podcast. Thanks to everyone who helped get the message across about the last one with Twitter, Facebook and blog love (please feel free to do the same this week. Its a lot of work so it may as well be heard by somebody…) You are truly all awesome sexy peoples.

This week, we send Gary Glitter to his inevitable doom, get some post from Gordon Brown, applaud Doctor Who’s biggest adventure yet, question Russell Brand’s concept of “funny”, check out the big comedy DVDs for the christmas market, antagonise the postal service, wonder who thought Nick Griffin was a good idea, check in with Just Impolite’s I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here News Action Round Up and laugh along with Private Eye’s always hilarious comedy centre segments.

Download it here.

[12:18, 256kbps]

Brit rock singer Gary Glitter, who is a convicted paedophile, sparked outrage when it was revealed he wanted to buy a home overlooking the bleak moor where Ian Brady and Myra Hindley buried their child victims.

Glitter, 65, real name Paul Gadd, is house-hunting for a property in the region of 900,000 pounds on the outskirts of Saddleworth Moor and is hoping to visit the area next week.

But his attempt to book an 85 pound-a-night room at a local hotel ahead of the trip was met with a point-blank refusal by the owner.

“That would be repulsive. He is simply unacceptable,” the Daily Express quoted Alan Tupman, who runs the Clough Manor Hotel in Denshaw, near Oldham, as saying.

“We refused him. It was his booking agent who rang and obviously they know there is going to be a problem.

“We believe he will be looking for a property in the area next Monday or Tuesday and I just want to alert people.

“It is not just Clough Manor, it is the area generally, and I would question the motive. Why is he coming here?

“I am quite a philosophical person and do believe when people have been punished for a crime it is finished. But what he has done is unacceptable. I feel nothing but revulsion,” he added.

Another local was repulsed not only by the fact that Glitter was moving into the area, but also by the location he wanted to move in to.

“The fact Glitter is trying to move into the area is bad enough, but for him to choose an area notorious for the murders of children is beyond belief,” the local said.

“There is no way he will be welcome here,” the local added.

Local estate agent Gwyn Jones said he had been approached by representatives he was led to believe were acting for Glitter.

“The approach was made in my absence to one of my team who contacted me on Wednesday. I have not yet personally spoken to his agents or him,” Jones said.

“I believe he is planning to fly to Saddleworth by helicopter next week, but I do not know any more about his plans.

“I have to look after the interests of my clients first and foremost.

“They would have to understand that the prospective purchaser would be Gary Glitter and it would be their decision if they wished him to view their property.

“I have to be seen to be acting responsibly and looking after their best interests. We have to act within guidelines.

“I cannot say any more other than I am told the client is looking for a secluded property up to the 900,000 pounds mark,” Jones added.

A spokeswoman for Glitter’’s solicitor, David Corker, has not confirmed the move.

“We never discuss our clients,” she stated.

The Moors murders were carried out by Brady and Hindley between July 1963 and October 1965, in and around Greater Manchester, England.

The victims were five children aged between 10 and 17-Pauline Reade, John Kilbride, Keith Bennett, Lesley Ann Downey and Edward Evans-at least four of whom were sexually assaulted.

The murders are so named because two of the victims were discovered in graves dug on Saddleworth Moor; a third grave was discovered on the moor in 1987, over 20 years after Brady and Hindley’’s trial in 1966.

The body of a fourth victim, Keith Bennett, is also suspected to be buried there, but as of now it remains undiscovered.

Once inside the Royal Festival Hall we were approached by Richard Griffin, a photographer. He took some pics. And he’s very kindly sent them on to us.

Put yourself in a fictional universe where everything’s gone a bit nutty. Now picture Matthew Broderick’s head on a pike.  Does that do it for you? It’s there as a result of his dangerous driving conviction, if that helps? How about Winona Ryder getting her sticky fingered hands cut off for shop-lifitng, streamed live and gruesome online? Or Lily Allen being beaten to death with her own iPhone for crimes against twittering?

Ok, the last one may be a bit of a stretch, but if this kind of celebrity capital punishment does it for you, maybe you should check out “The Execution of Gary Glitter“, a docu-drama broadcast this week on Channel 4 and still available online. It’s set in an imaginary Britain, where public pressure has led to the reinstatement of the death penalty for crimes of murder and child abuse, as well as widening the powers of the police in detaining suspects and pursuing their conviction. When Gary Glitter is extradited from Vietnam to face fresh charges in London, he becomes the first person to face hanging in over forty years.

As far as celebrity snuff goes, it’s top notch, but unfortunately that doesn’t seem to have been the intention. Written, produced and directed by Rob Coldstream, it claims rather to engage the audience on topics of capital punishment and how modern society deals with its most reviled offenders. Worthy subject matter, no doubt, and the real world celebrity court cases of R. Kelly and Roman Polanski could just be enough to back up the premise, but it fails miserably in the realization. 

The whole set-up is completely outlandish, relying on a set of conditions so tight and specific they fail to ring true. What’s hardest to swallow are the massive changes to British law, in particular the Metropolitan police’s new ability to prosecute seemingly anyone for crimes committed in foreign territories, disregarding like a playground bully any authority or interest of foreign governments.

Coldstream has tried to cover this up with the standard docu-drama methods, talking heads and archive footage to blur the lines between fiction and reality. It works well in places, especially when authentic Glitter, fresh out of prison from his 1999 conviction, breaks down in front of a media sharktank. His blubbering makes for uncomfortable, conflicted viewing, as does the heavy reliance on footage from the 2002 Soham murders. In the latter case especially though, you can’t help feeling a tinge of exploitation, as Coldstream constructs his entire narrative from a sparse and selective retelling of the horrific events.

Through scripted interviews, Coldstream uses talking heads to drag up every possible facet of the problem, as actors bleat and attack each other over everything from human rights to class divide. The passion is clearly evident, but at the unfortunate cost of clarity. The celebrity variants do equally little to add to proceedings, as Anne Widdecombe preaches charmlessly on the existence of evil, an excitable Gary Bushnell shouts from the cheap seats and Mirada Sawyer offers the perspective of a music journalist inexplicably assigned to the highest profile court case of the young century. Each is under the yoke of Coldstream’s formulaic courtroom script, trotted out in turn to patronize the audience. No, no, Glitter taking the witness stand while everyone gasps isn’t an enormous cliche, it’s actually really clever and quite a big deal. Etc. Etc. Throughout, you’re left to wonder what exactly has motivated these people to get involved, but under no illusions that it had anything to do with social advocacy.

This overbearing condescension is endemic, in a narrative that claims to know the answers but certainly isn’t telling. What we’re left with is not so much an exploration of social policy as a particularly shouty snuff film, an ugly and charmless mess of an affair, lacking in both integrity and relevance. If there is one redeeming feature however, it’s Hilton McRae’s performance as Glitter. I’m not sure how many actors can claim “dole queue clown” and “aging Ming the Merciless” among their signature looks, but however big the Glitter look-alike casting call was, they struck gold with McRae. He gives an compelling performance of Glitter’s vulnerability and dwindling defiance, as the convicted popstar faces into his final days. If you are into celebrity snuff, and you need an excuse to watch this truly awful docu-drama with your friends, Hilton McRae provides an excellent cover. Failing that, call it research.

‘The Execution of Gary Glitter’ aired Monday 9th november on Channel 4, and will be available for a limited time on 4oD.         http://www.channel4.com/programmes/the-execution-of-gary-glitter/4od

(This TV Review originally appeared on Totally Dublin’s website, November 09. Words: Padraig Moran (c) 2009)

Okay so it’s half midnight and I have to be up around 6.30, but my computer’s asked me if I want to back up my files, and I’ve stupidly said “yeah, ok computer, good idea”. I have no idea why I do these things.

Well, I didn’t post the other day, but I’m sure you weren’t surprised in the slightest. If I’m honest, I did want to write something- but the other day was just so boring. So was today in a sense, but DAMNIT I WILL WRITE.

Today I’ve felt like I’ve been on top of things. I probably haven’t, but the feeling was nice. I wrote the news for Tattoo TV, did some stuff for university with my mad nerd skillz, and received a cool banner/ graphic- type thing, courtesy of Dave, that Matt and I can use for the petition. Here it is:

I even have tomorrow’s news story ready to write- yes, how organised I am today.

This evening I caught the Execution of Gary Glitter on 4OD. I wanted to write about it, but to be honest, I still can’t put into words how I feel about it. For those of you who don’t know, the show is set in an alternate reality, where the UK brings back the death penalty, and its first victim is Gary Glitter. Did I just say victim? Sorry, I meant… nope, I meant victim- in my opinion, killing someone for doing wrong makes you just as bad as they are, it’s disgusting. We need better prisons and prevention, we don’t need to make ourselves into murderers. I was pretty shocked by the show, really- it’s designed to make you think, and it did that, but I’m not sure how I feel about feeling so shocked, too. I don’t believe in being vengeful towards anyone, no matter what they’ve done- they should just serve their time and be fucking sorry for their crimes.

The whole thing reminded me of an article I read by Billy Corgan that was written the other day, about forgiveness. Should we forgive those who’ve served their sentence, and believe a person can change, or should we believe that some people are just evil? I can see that being a question I’ll think about for a long time.

You can click on the picture for a link to the article I’m talking about:

You can also catch the show on 4OD for another week, I think. I’ll warn you mind, that last scene’s going to stick with me for a little while, you might not like it either.

I think it’s time I slept.. screw the back up disk, I’ll just set a timer on my laptop, it can turn itself off later whether this disk is done or not! Learning cure for the future: When we invent Artificial Intelligence, make sure it has a better grasp of time than a Windows computer.

Mel

Noted two ‘facts’ from this Programme
‘Jury Sentencing’ – where the Jury sets the ‘Punishment’ – that’d make for interesting reading in the Daily Mail.

And also a ‘Harris’ Poll of Sept 2009 said the Public were 54% in favour of a return of the Death Penalty

There are some things in life one can’t help but look at despite one’s best moral intentions: an unsightly birthmark; a stool that hasn’t quite flushed away; or the aftermath of a car crash to name but three. It was on similar grounds that I made the decision to watch the even-more-fictional-than-Finding-Nemo The Execution of Gary Glitter on Channel 4 this evening. I didn’t even catch it. I actually chose to watch it. On demand. I heard about it courtesy of a Charlie Brooker tweet, and naturally I thought he was taking the piss out of Channel 4’s obsession with fantasy docudrama. I like it when Charlie Brooker takes the piss, but on this occasion – and much to my dismay – he wasn’t.

The premise (if you strip away the Glitter element for the time being) is kind of interesting, i.e. what Britain might be like if we still had capital punishment. It isn’t an issue that I thought was a particularly burning one, but apparently a whopping 54% of adults in the UK (or ‘most’ as the programme helpfully put it) think the death penalty should be reintroduced. I myself was quite surprised at this as I was never asked personally and even if I wasn’t, I don’t know of anyone that thinks capital punishment is a good thing. Of course this might just be the impression I have of my peers. I wouldn’t know any differently because nobody really talks about it anymore.  Or should I say discusses it beyond knee-jerking string-em-up Golding inspired revenge vigilantism via placard. Anyway, I am frequently told a good writer will always ask the question ‘What if?’ – Sadly, it would appear that on occasion a bad one will do the same.

So. Why do we want the death penalty anyway? We are told that following the Soham murders of 2002, there was surge of support within the British electorate to reinstate the death penalty. This snowballed to such an extent that the government was forced to table a Capital Crime Bill in order to appease the masses (54%). The bill was approved, and backed with the weighty influence of Garry Bushell the wheels were set in motion to reinstate the death penalty, for acts of murder and/or having sex with somebody under the age of 12. Another advocate was genetic misfit Anne Widdecombe, who pointedly claimed that since the death penalty was abolished in 1969 there had been an overwhelming increase in paedophilia. I can see the connection.

I was already feeling a bit sick by this point. Using stock footage of newsreels from reports of the Soham murders to fudge their unconvincing narrative in the cause of ‘entertainment’ (and if I could make commas more inverted then I would) is far beyond any sort of justification by both the writers and the producers. The story was already unbelievable and including the very real deaths of the two schoolgirls almost made me think that they were fictional too. I’m sure the parents of those girls can categorically guarantee they certainly were not.

Reinstating the death penalty in the UK (or indeed any European country) would require the intricate dismantling of elements of the exceptionally complicated web of the EU constitution, an event so unlikely that to even raise such a notion in parliament would have the House of Commons drenched in the piss of laughter before the Speaker could even start to get off his chair to call order. No such problem for the writers here, it just happened okay? It’s fine. Dealt with. The death penalty is back and didn’t cause a war or any kind of sanction, and for once the British government were able to get what they wanted from Brussels with no problem at all.

So, who to kill? Well sadly not Garry Bushell but Gary Glitter, real name Paul Francis Gadd. Thanks to another overly hashed piece of artistic licence it is now possible to try criminals in the UK for crimes they committed overseas and transferred the unwitting Gadd (unaware of the new capital punishment laws) from Vietnam to the UK, where he would stand trial for the obscene acts he committed with two girls, aged 11 and 12. At this point it is probably worth pointing out that in reality there was insufficient evidence to condemn Gadd to execution for committing the act of raping the girls and he was instead jailed for three years.

What follows from there is not far short of bizarre. There is a courtroom sequence, interspersed with horribly scripted talking heads of both the actors and real people talking about the events as they fictitiously unfurl. It was astonishing, not least from Miriam Sawyer (formerly of Smash Hits) who had been chosen by a newspaper to cover the trial, ‘to give it a jaunty angle’ and Garry Bushell describing how he punched his fist when Gadd was sentenced to death. I think it was at that point that I actually started to feel sympathy for Gary Glitter. He was made to look nasty – really nasty. Maybe he is like that, I wouldn’t know.

I am not for a single moment advocating any of his actions, but the man is still alive and living in this country. He has served his time so what justification is there to make a ‘fiction’ that draws so closely upon his past? Even with all the wild fictions that go with it, the performance of Hilton McRae was so exceptionally accurate to tabloid perceptions of Gadd and the lines of reality were blurred to such a degree, that the entire programme embodied a personal vendetta against Gary Glitter. As much as the title would suggest that was what it was, I never imagined the programme makers would be so blunt about it. Even if it was an attack on paedophilia in general, there was far too much banding about of the word ‘evil’. I don’t how people get to the point where they get off on molesting children, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t down to any kind of supernatural demon. I’m surprised burning at the stake wasn’t the method of choice for Glitter’s demise, which did eventually happen with the aid of a ‘hanging technician’.

There are numerous other things about the programme that annoyed me. The incredibly cheaply made rolling news graphics probably indented a bit too much on my grumpy side given the context of the whole show, but also the format of it – this weird mix of real and fictional people interspersed with third person drama from the viewpoint of nobody in particular. I really did not know what the hell was going on. It would not have been difficult to fictionalise the entire piece. Why not just pretend the death penalty never went away and save all this silly bother about undoing fifty years of history? Why not use a fictional scenario with characters and situations that were at least slightly engaging to the viewer? The whole point of the piece – which I am assuming was to encourage discussion regarding the pros and cons of capital punishment – was completely lost. It was a grossly embarrassing mass of unsophisticated televisual cack, and it had better flush first time.

A very bad idea, very poorly executed.

Moustaches are crap, they really are, I don’t care if there have been some great men (and the odd woman) in history who had them….me no likey! Next picture update in a few days but here is the site again:

Movember

Turns out I’ve became an overnight internet phenomenon. I recorded the minutes silence at Sunday’s game to give the impression of what happened from within the Celtic end, and it was quite good that I did.

Turns out the foreign feed for the games either had mics turned up to the max…or were recording from outside the ground. Inside the Celtic end, it was as close to silent as you will get (even sidestepping the political reasons behind the furore) but there was singing in protest outside the stadium.

Thankfully, my video captured the silence within the stadium, so I stuck it on the internet to counteract some of the other footage kicking about. You leave it alone, next thing you know is that it has around 3,000 views and BBC Reporting Scotland is using it on the 1830 news. Cheeky gits, I should be asking for a rebate on my licence fee:

A slight edit here guys to add in a link to the BBC site where my video can be seen…I’ll leave it others to make up their own mind about it:
BBC Thieves

So that was something of interest, but there was probably more important stuff on The Gadget Show on Channel 5. For one, Suzi Perry….but she delivered a run through of five top websites that you may not know about:

You Convert It – A file conversion site.

Supercook– A recipe search engine. Hmmm, I have eggs and beans in my kitchen, tell me what to do with that supercook?

Alternative to – You tell them software packages you wish to replace and they provide you with alternatives

Joobili – If you have limited dates to travel, put them into the site and it brings back local public holidays, festivals customs, planned riots etc – so if you want to experience local flavours, this could be a decent site.

Animoto – takes your photos and videos, choose music and the site then makes a video for you.

And yes, I’ve tried it for you all, aren’t I nice?

My first try on Animoto

Interesting programme on Channel 4 – The Execution of Gary Glitter – probably not as clever as it thought it was and I suppose my first thought was “is he going to get royalty payments for his songs being used?” and then I thought “is Gary Glitter watching this?” Wow, that would mess with your mind, watching a TV show where you die in it.

More news and updates as the week unfolds!

Ser un estrella de rock o del pop implica muchas veces que sus imágenes se vuelvan icónicas y se nos grabe su cara o sus fisonomía por siempre, pero cuando desaparecen por mucho tiempo y luego los volvemos a ver, nos llega a sorprender como los años han pasado sin misericordia sobre ellos, igual que pasa con cualquier ser humano común y corriente,  aquí algunos ejemplos de algunas personalidades que cambiaron drásticamente.

Todas las fotos son del sitio inglés NME.

Cyndi Lauper fue una cantante que llegó alto en los 80’s con “Girls just wanna have fun”, y cuando se pensaba que estábamos frente a una de las intérpretes más importantes de la década, apareció Madonna, y ella dejó de brillar. Ahora su imagen es muy distante de la extravagancia que la caracterizaba.

Cyndi Lauper ahora luce más "elegante"

En esos mismos 80’s había un tecladista llamado Howard Jones, quien también cantaba y sacó varios temas pegajosos, para después desaparecer de la escena, no lo había visto hasta que encontré esta foto de él.

Howard Jones fue considerado en un tiempo el mejor en el sintetizador

¿Se acuerdan del otro de Wham!? El ignorado Andrew Ridgeley, quien siempre estuvo a la sombra de George Michael, pues ahora menos lo reconocerían, ya que el tiempo no ha tenido compasión con este músico.

Andrew Ridgeley siempre fue opacado por George Michael

Boy George siempre buscó gustar con una imagen andrógina en Culture Club. Actualmente es un artista en decadencia por sus vicios y tras perder su gran cabellera, está muy lejos de aquel muchacho talentoso que se ponía diariamente lápiz labial.

Boy George ya no tiene glamour

Gary Glitter fue todo una estrella del glam rock inglés, sin embargo su decadencia llegó a los extremos donde se ventiló su gusto por la pedofilia, por lo que fue detenido por las autoridades llevándolo a juicio.

Gary Glitter actualmente ya no tiene prestigio

Limalh, el ex cantante de  la banda Kajagoogoo, impuso todo un estilo con su original cabellera, con las puntas rubias. Es de los cantantes que han luchado por resucitar su carrera y mantener la nostalgia de los buenos tiempos.

Limahl lucha por mantener el estilo

Axl Rose cuando inició con Guns N’ Roses tenía una figura espigada que fue su carta de presentación para atrapar a sus millones de fans, y luego conquistarlos totalmente con su voz y su música. Ahora con kilos de más, miles de litros de alcohol consumidos, ya no tiene la misma presencia, aunque su ego sigue siendo muy grande.

Axl Rose nunca perderá su ego, aunque pasen los años

A Bono siempre lo tenemos presente y  se nos olvida que usó el pelo más largo, que se veía más fresco y contrasta con su imagen actual donde los años ya lo han marcado, pero todavía,  para beneplácito de sus fans, sigue cantando con U2 como si tuviera 20 años.

Bono comenzó muy joven en el rock

Ya todos nos habíamos acostumbrado a ver a Billy Corgan de Smashing Pumpkins, totalmente calvo, pero hubo un tiempo en que tuvo cabellera.

Billy Corgan también tuvo pelo

Alright, tonight’s the night, we can’t wait any longer, we’re turning out the light and locking up that door! You might put up a fight, but you’ll be crying out for more, when you get given what you really came here looking for… the legendary proto-London-Boys-dancers-whose-heads-stay-in-the-same-place-while-their-bodies-move-around Top Of The Pops performance of Shakin’ Stevens’ inexplicable excursion into Hi-NRG (shortly before, lest we forget, his equally baffling Motown Phase) A Little Boogie Woogie (In The Back Of My Mind), a song that was famously laughably condemned by ridiculous eighties rentaquote comedy politician Geoffrey Dickens who wanted it banned for being “a bit near the knuckle”, and which still enjoys wide exposure despite raking in the readies for its composer, a certain Mr Paul Gadd…

After having rocked a jazz crowd in Charlottesville, we made a mighty return to Commercial Taphouse in RVA to jazz a rock crowd. I love playing Taphouse, because everyone’s so comfortable that it gives us a chance to try new things. In the first set we opened with a newer tune (aka a Ones and Zeros oldie) called Gary Glitter that we morphed into Turtle. We also played the newer tune Beach of the War Gods (based on the Jimmy Wang Yu movie). We then played the Poliziotteschi inspired Manhunt, and ended with an epic Winterlight.

The second set started with the new tune Revolver. We then took our tune One Armed Swordsman, and crammed some John Carpenter music from Halloween in the middle of it. The Halloween 1978 tune hadn’t been played since we initially premiered it at Taphouse last year. We followed that up with our favorite Carpenter medley, consisting of The Fog into Across the Roof into Halloween 3 into Assault on Precinct 13 (follow?). We then ended with two old favorites, the last of which we stretched way out on, but of course my recorder didn’t catch it all.

10.25.09 Commercial Taphouse RVA

Set 1

1) Gary Glitter > Turtle

2) Beach of the War Gods

3) Manhunt

4) Winterlight

Set 2

1) Revolver

2) One Armed Swordsman > Halloween 1978 + The Shape Stalks Laurie > One Armed Swordsman

3) John Carpenter Medley

4) Through a Glass Darkly

5) Nero

We had a great time playing on Tuesday as part of a music series put on by the Charlottesville Jazz Society. We played at a great new venue called Bel Rio, where the Society presents musicians. At least one new song was played, and the first tune (Nero) went unrecorded, but here is the rest of the music presented in all it’s mp3′ish glory!

10.20.09 Bel Rio, Charlottesville, VA

1) Revolver

2) The Silence

3) John Carpenter Medley

4) Up and Down

5) Winterlight

6) Gary Glitter

adam lambert strut kara dioguardi gary glitter t rex type empowerment lyric

Adam Lambert did an interview with Entertainment Weekly where he will be giving us some clues to his new album which is due to be released next month.

Adam says he was influenced by Killers and Muse in his style of music.  According to MTV News and MJsBigBlog.com Adam is quoted as saying, “Glam is Back.”

Adam has been working with Rob Cavallo, and Darkness frontman Justin Hawkins on “Music Again” with songs written by Pink and Max Martin, “What do you want from me?”

Adam co wrote the song “Strut” with Karo Dio Guardi (American Idol Judge),  he also co wrote “Loaded Smile” with Linda Perry.

Adam Lambert promises to produce lots of different genres on his first album.  A guy with variety, he’s a smart cookie, with sales and competition being a big thing out there, Adam wants to find his own niche.

Adam is quoted as saying, “I wanna rock, I want people to dance, I want people to cry, I want people to smile and laugh,” he said. “I wanna play dress up!”  By the looks of the picture above, leaked on the internet by one of the guys kicking around during his rehearsals, I’d say Adam’s going to do some pretty spaced out music that is going to appeal to all sorts of individuals.

MJsBigBlog.com reports that  Reality Tv Fans will be asking him questions, and Adam Lambert using Skype will be answering them in a televised interview with Ophrah Winfrey.

“I love little girls/ They make me feel so…/Happy”  Oingo Boingo – Little Girls

Muito se disse sobre Roman Polanski essa semana e seu antigo processo de pedofilia. O mundo pede por perdão, cineastas e artistas fazem petições e escrevem manifestos de simpatia contra a sua condenação e extradição para os EUA.

Alguns como Michael Cieply do NY Times acreditam que se a notícia do polêmico affair com a menina de 13 anos se desse hoje seria muito pior, já que, desde a década de 1970, a percepção moral quanto à pedofilia muito foi alterada pelo senso comum. Senso comum que diz: “Sexo com crianças é errado, mas com animais só em alguns estados”.

Segundo JP Coutinho, talvez não exista limite ético para Polanski e um grande bocado de artistas e poderosos do mundo que pensam serem os criadores do próprio código ético e estarem tão acima da condição humana em que rastejam os mortais sem nenhum talento.

Mas sem entrar em méritos de Igreja Católica e Michael Jackson, bolei a minha lista de figuras favoritas, da vida real e da cultura pop, que tem o seu passado manchado por comportamentos subversivos com infantes:

Frederic Mitterand

O ministro da Cultura francês foi um dos primeiros a sair em defesa de Roman Polanski na Europa. O sobrinho do ex-presidente François Mitterand foi bombardeado com críticas e pedidos de afastamento do governo, quando a filha de Lê Pen apontou trechos de sua autobiografia nos quais ele admite seu desejo por rapazes mais jovens e confessa ter pago em dinheiro garotos na  Tailândia para fazer sexo.

Lewis Carroll

O escritor britânico cujo nome verdadeiro era Charles Dodgson, era tão obcecado por uma garotinha de 4 anos de idade chamada Alicia Liddell, que seus pais “tiveram” que afastá-la dele. Ele se inspirou na menina para escrever seus dois famosos livros “Alice no País das Maravilhas” e “Através do Espelho”.

Chuck Berry

O pai do rock ‘n roll (ou devo dizer Deus?) foi preso em 1959 por se envolver com uma garota de 14 anos de idade que trabalhava no seu clube em Saint Louis. Ele foi condenado a cinco anos de prisão e ainda pagou uma multa de 5 mil dólares. Johnny B. Goode? Erro duplo, Chuck: Trabalho infantil e Pedofilia.

Arthur C. Clarke

O autor britânico que escreveu 2001: Uma odisséia no Espaço e estabeleceu uma visão de futuro não concretizada para toda uma geração, morou no Sri Lanka de 1956 até o final de sua vida em 2008. Lá ele viveu para praticar seus hobbies favoritos: fotografia, exploração submarina e comer menininhos de 12 anos. Opa! Meninhos de 12 anos? Sim,  tanto que em 1998 ele não recebeu a Ordem de Cavaleiro do Império na Inglaterra, porque o Príncipe Charles não queria dá-la. Boa Charles!

Thomas Mann

Em “Morte em Veneza”, Mann descreve como o protagonista Gustav Aschenbach se apaixona por Tadzio, um rapaz de 14 anos que está, assim como ele, de férias em Veneza. Sua extrema  admiração pelo rapaz o impede de se aproximar e conversar. Mas a sua busca no garoto é muito mais estética do que sexual. Aschenbach vê em Tadzio a perfeição de uma criação quase divina e escreve: “Não estava escrito que o sol desvia nossa atenção do intelectual para o sensível?”.

Marguerite Duras

Talvez mais do que Beauvior, Duras foi a verdadeira Sartre de saias. Fazia o que queria, pois essa era única forma de existencialismo que conhecia. A escritora do célebre roteiro Hiroshima Mon Amour de Alain Resnais, nasceu e morou  na Indochina antes de fazer carreira na França. Entre os 12 e 14 anos teve um caso com um rico comerciante chinês que depois virou personagem de seu livro mais famoso, “O Amante”, um clássico da pedofilia pop.

Xuxa

Possivelmente um dos vídeos mais polêmicos e proibidos da internet é o da Rainha pedindo para um súdito tocar inapropriadamente em suas partes íntimas no filme “Amor estranho Amor”. As falas do longa inspiraram a propaganda que Xuxa faria para a Monange anos depois no alto de sua celebridade: “Olha como eu sou macia… maciiiia… macia…”

Gary Glitter

É Glitter e ainda é famoso por ser o máximo do Glam Rock inglês. Hits sugestivos como “I Love You Love Me Love” e “Hello, Hello, I’m Back Again” marcaram a carreira desse astro da música e do abuso infantil. Se você é menor de idade no terceiro mundo, marque este nome porque o mundo está ficando pequeno para a fome desse senhor. Em 1999, ele passou quatro meses em uma prisão na Grã-Bretanha acusado de manter material com teor pornográfico infantil, até aí tudo bem. Em 2002, foi expulso do Camboja e em 2008, foi libertado de uma prisão vietnamita após três anos de prisão por tentativa de molestar duas meninas. Em antecipação a sua libertação , o governo das Filipinas declarou que o cantor não é bem-vindo no país.

Woody Allen

Woody Allen, Mia Farrow e Soon Li

“Finalmente tive um orgasmo. Mas o médico me disse que era do tipo errado”. Talvez tenha sido mesmo, Woody. Meu herói pessoal e intelectual sempre será o senhor Alan Stewart Konigsberg, e não me abala o fato de ele ter ficado com a própria-filha. A pequena e, vale ressaltar, adotada Soon Li veio para a casa dele e de Mia Farrow aos sete e quando estava no colegial já rolava um affair entre os dois. Se pensarmos bem ele mesmo se antecedeu com Manhattan de 1979.

Humbert Humbert

Nabokov em Lolita é um gênio maligno da persuasão, desvirtuando o bom senso e dobrando os limites éticos. No primeiro parágrafo ele nos faz cair de paixão pela ninfeta Dolores Haze, a Lolita, de 12 aninhos. “Lolita, luz de minha vida, labareda em minha carne. Minha alma, minha lama. Lo-li-ta: a ponta da língua descendo em três saltos pelo céu da boca para tropeçar de leve, no terceiro, contra os dentes. Lo. Li. Ta.”.

Paul Schaefer

Essa cara deveria ter escrito o livro “Minha Imagem Pública: As Boas escolhas que fiz”. No currículo, foi cabo no regime nazista, fugiu para a Argentina no final da guerra, comandou grupos de extermínio durante a ditadura Pinochet (1973-1990) no Chile e tem nas costas 27 acusações de pedofilia. Pedófilo e Nazista? Sim, ele perseguiu ativistas políticos, matou e ainda abusou de seus subversivos filhos. E não eram os comunistas os verdadeiros comedores de criancinha?

Jerry Lee Lewis

O pioneiro do piano no rock, um instrumento que não vingou no gênero. Inimigo mortal de Chuck Berry, Lewis chegou a botar fogo no piano antes do colega conseguir encerrar um show como estava programado. Rivalizou também na vida pessoal, a sua mulher e prima de segundo grau Myra Gale Brown tinha apenas 13 anos quando casou com o astro em 1958. O polêmico relacionamento acabou com a sua turnê britânica depois de apenas 3 shows. Nos EUA só voltou a fazer sucesso quando mudou para o country, coincidentemente o estilo preferido dos caipiras americanos nascidos de casamentos consangüíneos.

Marcelo Camelo

Não vou me aprofundar mais do que devo. Em 4 palavras e uma exclamação: Mallu Magalhães, dezesseis anos!

Gabriel Garcia Márquez

No seu livro, Memórias de Minhas Putas Tristes, Márquez narra com muito humor a comemoração dos 90 de um erudito senhor colombiano que se presenteia com uma virgem de 14 anos de idade. Assim que saiu a notícia de que a trama viraria filme a ONG Coalizão Regional Contra o Tráfico de Mulheres e Meninas na América Latina e Caribe (CATW-LAC) decidiu entrar com uma ação contra o Nobel de Literatura por apologia à prostituição infantil. Garcia Márquez sempre foi muito criticado por ser condescendente em seus livros com a prostituição.

Daniel Ortega

Daniel Ortega é um verdadeiro predador sexual. Contra os Contras, contra os Yankess, contra os latifúndios da Nicarágua, mas a favor do sexo contra a vontade. Quem dirá a pobre filha adotiva Zoilamérica Narváez, hoje uma socióloga de 44 anos. Em 2008, ela apresentou queixa à Justiça da Nicarágua acusando Ortega de abuso “contra” ela desde que tinha 11 anos, durando no total 20 anos de violação sistemática sob a vista grossa da mãe e do exército sandinista. Não só fez da filha escrava sexual como também levou 250 milhões de dólares dos cofres públicos – dois rombos.

What a talented young lady Florence Welch is but I’m not sure about those hangers-on; that  musical collective known as ‘The Machine.’ It felt much the same way with Gary Glitter’s coat-tail-hanging Glitter Band; and Tubeway Army, what did they ever do for Gary Numan? Name  a single Cricket if you can, or one member of the Earth Band that  hung around the gifted  Manfred Mann  like a bad smell?

How does Doris Brazil know so much about contemporary music? The answer is, she doesn’t. In fact Kirsty, Flo’s daughter by her third marriage, has supplied the bullets and I am firing the gun; one might call it a pop gun.  It started when I suggested, to Flo, that Geraldo would have been successful with or without his Savoy Orchestra. Kirsty overheard and gave me one of those unknowing looks (there can be little doubting she’s from the same bloodline as Flo) and so began our quest for these modern day freeloaders, none of which, you won’t be surprised to hear, I had ever heard of.