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Wednesday, 17 January 2007

You Say "Hello" and I Say Goodbye.


The catapult to Grantham normally only fires at the end of my posts but this lot have just got to be loaded and blasted off NOW to save us all as soon as possible.
Chat, "showbiz" and celebrity gossip magazines are the absolute pits of the publishing world. They make me want to gnaw on my testicles in rage and I get an almost overwhelming urge to set fire to people I see reading them. They are, quite simply, sick porn for brainless young women - "birds", as they would probably like to be called.
If you are desperate to hand over a quid or whatever to learn what colour pants Angelina Jolie wears then you are a bloody pervert. If you have any interest whatsoever in where Jade Goody is going on fucking holiday you are a stalker. If you cannot resist the temptation to see "inside the Beckhams' home" then you are a peeping Tom (or is it Tomasina?). All of these character traits will normally get you locked up quicker than you can say "What's a CSE?"
The other readers of this trash who manage to evade prosecution can be lumped together in one shabby category - intolerably nosey bastards with an IQ lower than a mushroom and the shallowness of the Royal Family's gene pool.
Women's magazines have always been with us, it seems, and I have nothing against the likes of Woman, Woman's Own, Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire and Elle etc. Like Intestinal Tract Monthly and What Goat?, they cater for a niche market. It is this plethora of tacky, showbusiness and gossip rags which has exploded onto the world in the last ten years to which I object.
The publishers claim they are only supplying a demand which exists. Bollocks! That's the crap bosses at The Sun come out with to justify the fact that their rag has disappeared down the pan in which celebrity and tat float like a stubborn turd. They just want to make money and are prepared to pander to the worst human habits to get it. What next? The Joys of Child Abuse? Poisoners Gazette? How To Kill Pensioners Monthly? There are fuckwits out there with an abiding interest in all those areas. Does that mean we should cater for them?
My anger was gently poached today by an advert for yet another of these brainless, crud mags and it then boiled over when, in the same "telly-selly" break, yet another was plugged. Grazia was thrilled to announce that it knew why the Beckhams were off on holiday. Fuck off! The other piece of glossy bog roll was an addition to the stable of shite, was imaginatively entitled New, and its selling point was that it contained seventy pieces of completley irrelevant information about seventy equally irrelevant things, all for seventy pence. Didn't you hear? Fuck off!
Why are some people obsessed with the cult of celebrity? It's because their lives are so pathetic and empty that they have to try to live through some gits who have managed to get their fizzogs in front of a camera.
I believe this brainwashing and conditioning begins with little girls. Remember Jackie comic/magazine? I used to borrow it from girlfriends when I was at school to read the Dear Cathy and Claire agony aunt page. It was superb! "Dear Cathy and Claire, I am three and I haven't got a boyfriend yet. Am I an alien?" The bosses claimed they were not planting in the minds of their young readers the thought that if they didn't have a boyfriend or behave like some drunken, chavette
tart they didn't fit in and so might as well kill themselves. Why then did every bloody story in Jackie feature a girl falling in and out of love and trying to be a grown up?
As I said, this is dangerous porn. If a magazine has to be confined to "the top shelf" for featuring photographs of women's breasts and, God forbid, their muffs (all things you either see on the average beach in summer or around the house), then these mags should be elevated as well.
Here endeth the lesson.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Have you ever seen the film "The Sixth Sense" about the disgusting, nauseating American brat who keeps having visions of the deceased? I'm sure some of your eight readers might have. If they shout "Yes" or "No" loudly, I might even hear them from here. Sorry if they wake you up.

Anyway, it's hardly an appropriate title for the film really. "The Blithering Nonsense" would have suited it better.

BUT one good thing has come out of this travesty of shite film making. This picture - a captioned still from the film, with not too subtly altered dialogue - captures the human condition more perfectly than any other single thing my admittedly piss poor brain can think of at this moment in my tragically disappointing life. It's even relevant to the bit about the magazines you went on about.

http://www.kamilkisiel.net/gallery/d/542-2/dumb_people.jpg

Makes you weep, don't it? I was going to suggest sending anyone with an IQ less than their shoe size to Grantham, but there just wouldn't be room.

PS. Love to Pad.

Barry Lawrence said...

Hello Anon,

Pad sends his love - and an amusing skin condition he appears to have picked up.
Must admit I haven't seen any sense since about 1972, let alone your example. Will look out for it, though. It's being so cheerful as keeps you and me going, I think.
Keep your powder and your pants dry.

WEDNESDAY, 21 NOVEMBER 2007

SHORTS DON'T MATTER! 1. From the greatest programme ever made about association football, Barnstoneworth United FC manager Mr Dainty delivers one of the finest English soliloqiues of all time.......and afterwards, spare a thought for the club steward's wife Vera (YOU ONLY HAVE TO WATCH HALF OF THE CLIP!!).

Monday, 12 November 2007

Not everyone who agonises over their life is a painter. Some of us agonise because we're NOT painters.

....And On the Subject of Great Public Services

I know most of you have heard this marvellous song by those doctors who are the Amateur Transplants......but I think the video is a nice addition. P.S. If there are kids in the room I'd shuffle them out before hitting play.

...There's More

On the subject of those great doctors, here is their version of More Than Words which presents their challenging views on women outside Watford. The very-soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither, coming from Cumbria, is a huge fan. Again, get those kids out of the room!

Leave Britney Alone, Ok!!!

Oh...........my............God!!!!! My heartfelt thanks go to BGT for this. I won't say much more, I don't need to. Mr Loony of Loonytown, USA (I think it's a bloke, anyway), says it all. I fear he may be wound too tight for.....well.....well for everywhere, really!

Tuesday, 18 September 2007.

I wish I'd sung this! For non-Americans, and with apologies to all the smart arses out there who already knew, the FCC is the Federal Communications Commission and it monitors TV and radio output in the States - a sort of broadcast police - while the EPA is the Yanks' so-called Environmental Protection Agency, a body which does exactly the opposite of what it says on the can. (P.S. We went to the same school, you know? Eric and me, that is, not George, Martha, Dick and Condoleeza and me. I don't think they went to school.) P.P.S. Please see below if you are I Like The View, Malc or Doris.

To Make You Laugh and Cry

I was listening to this on a Sunday, the very-soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither is a Catholic, Tom Lehrer is one of my all-time heroes and this is one of his best.............no other reasons. On a more sombre note (and with thanks to Fish for coming up with this Woman's-Own-passes-the-time-in-the-dentist's-waiting-room nonsense), why not get a computer to tell you that you are a waste of space and your life is a sham of a mockery of a farce? Ok, it's from one of those poxy dating sites but...go on, take the test. You ain't got much to beat!!
This Is My Life, Rated
Life: 4.2
Mind: 4.1
Body: 2.7
Spirit: 8
Friends/Family: 1.6
Love: 0
Finance: 5.9
Take the Rate My Life Quiz
Apparently, in my case, "computer say 'no!'"

I First Saw This When I Was Little - And Loved It! I Hope That Explains a Few Things

Fuck, Fuckety, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck

It has been pointed out to me that, particularly for one whose profession is supposedly literary, my language is getting worse. My use of the "F" word is, I am told, far too prevalent and hence loses impact. To those who share this view I suggest you watch the following:

Tony Blair Isn't a Burglar - But If He Was.........

In the spirit of Gustav Holst's Jupiter and Manfred Mann's Earth Band, I feel like raising a smile today. The Big Green Thing alerted me to this and, for no other reason than to raise a smile on an otherwise crap Wednesday, I think it has to be shared. Grantham shall not have him - when he gets out of prison.

Life On The Edge - No Net.

I was wrong when I feared it might be a dull weekend, what with my pals being away, my soon-to-be ex-wife in rehab and only the dogs to play with. How wrong can a man be? This much fun must surely be illegal? Just click to see the japes and hoots I am having! Click again to see how things got REALLy exciting! Tomorrow we're going to chase pigeons.

The Good Old U.S. of A. - Guardians of Freedom and Democracy. Nothing to Be Scared of, Then?

Be honest........

IT'S THE QUIZ OF THE WEEK! JUST SCROLL DOWN AND HIT "FULL QUIZ".