Louis Walsh is a retard, and other great search terms!

After nearly a whole year in operation, this site has picked up some inexplicable traffic thanks to search terms that are completely unrelated to the content on the blog. In what undoubtedly resulted in a number of disappointed browsers, the following search term is probably my favourite:  “Is Louis Walsh retarded?“. I’ve no idea why that links to this website, but I’m kind of glad that it does, it makes me feel content with life. It makes me realise that the pint-sized pop prick has probably said something so ridiculous and out of touch that a concerned citizen has been forced to seek reassurances from the internet regarding his mental state.

About a dozen different interpretations of “Berlusconi” also pepper the list  thanks to this curiously popular article, which has probably only gathered so many hits because I’m the only person on the internet who can be bothered to spell his name correctly. Even the spell checker asks if I’m trying to spell ‘wanderlust’ when I spell out the slimy pervert’s name. I also pity the gentleman who queeried the subtlety of spotify adverts with the term “spotify adverts are too in your face“. Poor guy, the world of free internet music is clearly an invasive and dangerous place.

December 2009: The Black Dog

Artist: The Black Dog
Album: Further Vexations
Genre: Electronica, IDM

As this picture exemplifies quite beautiful, it is IMPOSSIBLE for British electronic musicians to look cool. Think of the greats, Fatboy Slim would look more at home behind an IT help desk, Squarepusher has the look of a creepy uncle you keep your girlfriend away from at family functions, whereas if you ever saw Richard D. James on the street you’d probably call the police immediately, whether he was anywhere near that girls’ school or not. If they don’t look like they’re having trouble fitting comfortably into their skin, then they almost definitely struggle not to look like dads who’ve picked up a bunch of strange machines that make noises on eBay.

The things I hate most about Christmas

Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. I try hopelessly to coin the nickname ‘Mr. Christmas’ every year and seem to appreciate the festive season much more than most people I know. When even my nearest and dearest are doom-mongering about how awful ‘this Christmas’ is going to be, I’m there accepting it as some sort of personal mission to prove them wrong.

However, there are still things that occur every year that niggle, things I should’ve become immune to over the passing years, but still manage to get under my skin thanks to their annual consistency. The following list is one of inevitable occurrences that probably seed the wave of cynicism that tsunamis all over my pals every year.

Top 5 London locations that Americans can't pronounce

Americans. They probably pump so much money into British tourism that it’s a barefaced cheek to even consider criticising them. But when you clock up roughly two underground journey’s a day for years on end, you get asked for directions to the most fantastical and amusing places.

In truth, Americans abroad are generally much more civil and respectful than my own countrymen (when they’re not rolling in humvees, at least), but in a shameless attempt to cash in on the Americans-are-retards stereotype, and thinly veil blatant xenophobia with light humour, I’ve compiled this list! Here are the top five mispronounced locations I get asked to point hapless Americans (at least one a week). It really grinds my gears!

November 2009: Beirut

Artist: Beirut
Album: Live at the Music Hall of Williamsburg
Genre: Balkan, Folk

Last month, I conveniently had the opportunity to write about my ‘favourite band of all time’, Do Make Say Think. Having the chance to wax lyrical about my favourite artists was the reason I started this monthly feature, but in restricting myself to new listening experiences I’ve automatically cut out the albums that are my favourites already. Maybe I’ll go back and spew superlatives over them at a later date, but fortunately over the last two months I’ve picked up new albums by BOTH of my favourite artists. In reality, both Do Make Say Think and Beirut contend a two-horse race for my ‘most listened to artist‘ spot, and this week it’s Beirut’s turn in the limelight thanks to a live album they’ve recently released.

Reasons to leave Britain #1: The X Factor.

This nation’s obsession with reality TV and dial-a-voting is embarrassing. Even with the very welcome news that Big Brother is to be axed after the next series, we still have to suffer no less than three reality shows per weekend. When did TV execs get so uninspired that they just gave up and adopted such a simple formula? When did the general public get so retarded that they chose to lap it up on their free nights as if it were an addictive drug? Of all the mind-numbing TV shows around today, The X Factor takes the biscuit for most conceited, time consuming, bloated and unrewarding.

Since not-so-humble beginnings in 2004, the show has metastasised into an all consuming Saturday night staple, shedding newspaper articles and redundant ‘Xtra’ shows all designed to create a social frenzy around a handful of talentless dogs and line the pockets of the world’s most uncharismatic tosser.

New Years Eve parties

As we slump ceaselessly towards the end of 2009, I’m already looking at New Years Eve with unenvious eyes. Perhaps, by November, I should’ve come up with a plan for that date already, but I’ve never worked that way. Drumming up support for an early organised New Years Eve party would be a lesson in futility, given the track record we’ve had over the last decade. At first I thought it was poor organisation skills letting us down year after year, as somehow the festivities never seemed to impart any truly memorable feelings to fit the scale of the celebration. Little did I know, I was wrong. How much fun you have at new years is actually dedicated by a complex and pre-determined formula!

It took a drunken conversation with a colleague to bring this to my attention. His words flowed through me as if I was standing atop Mount Sinai, and made me realise that no matter how much time and effort I ever put into planning a celebration, the outcome would be out of my hands. His quote, word for word:

Modern Warfare 2 – why the hype?

As far as I’m concerned, the CoD series held the title of ‘Best WWII Shooter’ only because it was marginally better than woeful Medal of Honor. Fast forward through a handful of identical games, progressively easier game play, modernised weapons and uniforms and you’ve got shops opening at midnight just to shift copies off the shelf to us ravenous gamers!? Forget the fact that it’s impossible to enjoy an FPS game without a mouse and just concentrate on the fact that the series is apparently now so popular (despite the fact that its predecessors were not) that we can’t suffer the torture of waiting overnight to purchase it during normal trading hours. It can’t be that popular, can it?

The franchise has a reputation of being completely average after all. My particular favourite eye-roller is the scripted events that would make a slapstick writer cringe: > *Mount machine gun with infinite ammo* > *Thousands of enemy troops pour out in a convenient enfilade* > Genocide. Or how about: > “Don’t shoot that dog” > *Shoot Dog* > *Pack of rabid dogs spawn in and maul you to death*. I know I could never conjure such innovation from the deepest realms of my creativeness. If I was to review CoD 4: Modern Warfare in five words I’d say thus: “Don’t spend money on it“.  That’s hardly given me the motivation to rush out at midnight and snap up the sequel. Oh well, each to their own I guess.

The Sun's spurious support of British troops is more insulting than a misspelled letter.

The Sun headline from Monday 9th November reads “Bloody Shameful”, and leads into a story lambasting the prime minister for insulting the grieving widow of a serviceman killed in Iraq. It also picks on his ignorance of protocol and accuses him of failing to bow whilst laying a wreath during Remembrance Sunday. The story takes pride of place on the front page (well, just under a picture of a pair of X-Factor contestants) and has since made television news.

The Sun newspaper prides itself on supporting ‘Our Boys™’ and has thus decided to blow this story out of all proportion in a smear attack against the man opposing their chosen party at the next general election. There’s nothing surprising about that I guess, but how exactly did their sister paper (owned by the same News Corp) choose to honour Remembrance Sunday? After all, it’s a time when no person on the planet will ever debate the sacrifice made by soldiers whose lives were lost in wars throughout the ages. It’s the perfect time to write a sympathetic and grateful epitaph to all those who have died, so that we all may live. At least, this is what you might think would happen. Instead, this is how the news of the world decided to honour the war dead:

The Royal Mail postal strikes

In the earlier days of this blog I once wrote an article citing my appreciation for Royal Mail and the service it provides. It’s a beleaguered service, taking a pasting in productivity and profits year-on-year with no sign of ever reaching the heady popularity it enjoyed before the invention of digital communication. It’s a juggernaut that’s slowing down, shrinking in stature and importance, but it will never die. Such is the appreciation of a hand-written letter through the door that Royal Mail will always remain functional on some level, even with the ongoing revolution of emails, paper-free billing and rival delivery companies.

In response to its ailing situation, the company has attempted to ‘modernise’ with the introduction of sorting machines that are more efficient and quicker at sorting letters than human hands. This may lead to people losing their jobs, or at least losing hours, and thus the response of the unions has been to go on strike for two days. I quite simply cannot believe the audacity of a decision like this.