Friday, June 30, 2006
It’s Friday afternoon, you’re bored, the sun is shining but you can’t leave work yet! What to do, what to do... if only you had something mildly distracting with a small element of fun that you could also share with your friends?
Fret not beautiful people, even though most of you already know about Blogthings, some of you have yet to see the light! In all fairness, what could be more satisfying that lots of silly little multiple choice quizzes that con you into believing that you’re finding out something deep and meaningful about yourself?
Besides, who wouldn’t want to know how normal they are, who’s their inner European, what’s their love style, what flavour ice-cream they are, how vain they are, what flavour jelly bean they are, their Italian name, how sinful they are, their beer personality, what kind of flirt they are... the list is (almost) endless! Now off with you and enjoy Blogthings, fly my pretty ones!
However, make sure you come back and report your findings in the guise of a comment.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
I went to see “Fearless” last weekend, which is apparently the last martial arts movie in which Jet Li intends to act. Seems a shame really but I suppose he’s fed up of doing the same thing all of the time. The film is set in China at the start of the twentieth century, a time during which Western colonial influences were causing radical changes to Chinese society as well as undermining her international status and identity. The story focuses on Jet Li’s character, based on the legendary Chinese fighter Huo Yuanjia, whose youthful impetuousness brings personal tragedy upon himself and his family leading him to fall into the depths of despair and darkness just so that he find himself again and eventually champion a higher cause that serves the greater good of China and it’s people.
Ok, so it’s not the most original of tales and while some of you might argue that the story in a martial arts movie is marginally more important that the plot of your average porn flick, personally I felt that the somewhat weak story coupled with some really poor subtitles, apparently everything in China circa 1910 was “great”, turns “Fearless” into the poorer cousin of such films as “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon”, “The House of the Flying Daggers” and “Hero” from an overall perspective. That said, I don’t want to sound overly negative, the film is quite beautiful and the fight scenes are exhilarating and to be honest, if you liked any of the previous films mentioned above, you will probably enjoy “Fearless” as well. In overall terms, I liked it but as Dunphy might quip, it’s a good film not a great one!
Thursday, June 22, 2006
National Cleavage Day
Inspired by China Blue’s latest "Half Nekkid Thursday" post and because it’s simply another fantastic opportunity to lower the tone and because I couldn’t be arsed thinking of anything better to write about, I have decided to instigate a campaign in support of a National Cleavage Day. The concept is simple, a specific day of the year would be inaugurated as National Cleavage Day and, on the said appointed day each year, women from all walks of Irish life would be expected to patriotically exhibit their pride in their country by proudly wearing something with a scandalous décolletage that, to put it quite bluntly, leaves very little to the imagination.
Not only would this enhance the self-esteem of women all over the country as a result of the numerous admiring glances that every participating woman will undoubtedly receive but will also bolster the moral of the often misunderstood Irish male by reinforcing and validating their steadfast belief in the collective beauty of Irish womanhood. Subsequently, it is without any hesitation whatsoever that I strongly urge you to immediately email Bertie Ahern expressing your support for this wonderful concept. Just mention that it’s a sure fire vote winner with at least 50% of the population!
And why should we stop there? Personally, if this works out well, my next cause celebre is going to be a campaign in support of a National Mini-Skirt Day. In all fairness, I’m reasonably sure that with a little bit of cajoling some of our finest and most upstanding political luminaries such as President McAleese would be happy to come out in support of these fine and noble ideas. And, given our utter inability to qualify for this summer’s World Cup and the recent tragic passing of the inimitable Charlie Haughey, isn’t it finally time to start restoring a bit of pride and happiness to the nation! Jaysus, I feel a stirring rendition of the National Anthem coming on. Charlie, from whatever perch you’re looking down on us, take it away boy, Bertie, Mary and myself will join in once you get going!
“Sinne Fianna Fáil...”
(Mara... Maaarrraa!!! Jaysus, where is that bollox? Anyway listen here, that Mary is one fine looking bird, who would have thought it, eh. But for feck's sake, who the hell is this Cork Boy langer...)
Friday, June 16, 2006
Goodbye Ruby Tuesdays!
I met the finest girl of my life that night at gay night... it’s alright, don’t be uptight, that wasn’t a subtle attempt to come out of the closet or anything. No, the reason I started this post with a line from “Bump” by the Fun Lovin’ Criminals is that when I walked into Ruby Tuesdays last night for the latest Impact drum and bass shindig, it was like I had unwittingly stumbled into the middle of gay night at some trendy downtown bar, not that I reckon Cork is big enough to have an uptown downtown divide or anything but I digress.
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that the place was full of young fellas with bleached blonde hair and pink t-shirts frantically snogging each other with wild abandon (my apologies to the wider gay community for my unimaginative use of clichéd stereotypes), it was more to do with the fact that my entrance was met by the synchronised grim-faced glances of around twenty guys doing their level best to evince an aura of nonchalant coolness as they listened to the excellent drum and bass beats that were being spun by some very talented local djs.
Anyway, to make a short story long, I quickly purchased a drink and secreted myself and my shiny new drunknmunky t-shirt down to the back of the bar where I perched myself comfortably upon a stool so that I could relax and enjoy the music. Also, just to show that first impressions can be misleading, a quick bit of market research did reveal that there were actually three women in the bar, which escalated to a giddy five at one stage (two left and four more arrived, do the math :-), which wasn’t bad when you consider that the total number of people in Ruby Tuesdays struggled to pass thirty during the entire evening.
And this, my friends, is the crux of the matter. I couldn’t actually give a damn how many women were there or not as I was primarily there to just hear some decent drum and bass, what upsets me is that in stark contract to the stunning brilliance of previous Impact nights (which you can read about here and see photos of here) this one was a bit of a disaster. Ok, I strongly suspect that the fact that hardly anyone new about the night due to the apparent lack of timely advertising did play a major factor in the very poor turnout but, even so, this new venue is a lot smaller and the fact that not a single person actually danced during the entire evening is a damning enough testament in itself.
Despite all that, I’m going to end with a few positives. First, the music itself was top notch as usual, so all credit to the djs. Also, Ruby Tuesdays is a nice bar and they generally play good music in there, so don’t let my negativity towards this night put you off going there. In addition, there are lot of drum and bass events to look forward to during the coming summer months including Calibre and Grooverider at The Savoy, so be sure to check out the “Things To Do” section on the sidebar. Finally, I managed to get a nice photo of Saint Finbarre’s Cathedral on the way back to the car, so the night wasn’t a complete loss by any means!
Labels: DJs, Drum'n'Bass
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Gilles Peterson at The Savoy
A few weeks ago Gilles Peterson played at The Savoy and even though at the time I almost didn’t bother going as I couldn’t convince anyone else that it would be worth checking out, I eventually decided that it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Peterson is renowned for taking a more holistic and eclectic view to dance music and usually plays a mixture of jazz music, Brazilian beats, Hip Hop and anything else off the beaten track that he can get his hands on, so I was really looking forward to an interesting and different experience.
Even though Stevie G reported mix accounts of the night on his blog, one of the girls working in Prime Time even told me that she left early because she was expecting something completely different, I have to admit that I was very happy with the set Gilles played and I’m still struggling to understand what some people felt was missing. The first hour was full of predominately Brazilian tracks, which would have been fabulous to dance to but given that I was there on my own, I found myself perched against the railing simply enjoying the music. Annoyingly, The Savoy was not very full that night, they didn’t even bother opening up the mezzanine section, and the dance floor was not at all crowded. No, that wasn’t in itself annoying, what was annoying is that it was one of the first nights I had been at The Savoy without a partner in crime and there was loads of room to dance, fecking typical!
Eventually, Peterson changed to a set dominated by Hip Hop and as all attempts by text to cajole a few people to drop in had failed miserably, I could no longer take any more, the music was just too damn good and a bout of dancing was inevitable. So I took to floor and began to strut my stuff like a langer! No, not like a drunken idiot acting the bollox and pissing off all of the women, that was some other geezer, more like a “feck the lot of you I don’t care if I’m on my own, I’m gonna dance anyway” kind of langer. And while I’m on that subject (rant alert), maybe it’s just me but there’s seems to be some kind of unspoken stigma attached to anyone that dares to dance on their own, kind of like “oh my God, will ya look at that guy dancing on his own over there, what a freak!” Look, will you all kindly get a fucking hold of yourselves! I like the music and I like dancing. It just so happened that none of my friends were available to go on the night in question. The real fucking problem here is that most of you are so insecure that your own pitiful lack of self-esteem just encourages you to knock anyone and anything that strays from the safety of the accepted norm. So, in future why don’t you all just kindly fuck off and die! On the other hand, there is a slight chance that I’m merely being a touch paranoid.
Nevertheless, much dancing followed and I really enjoyed myself (yay for me :-). Towards the end of the night, Peterson tore the place apart with a stomping version of “Bakiri Ban” by Havana Funk (which I’m listening to as I write this) and, to my sheer delight, unexpectedly finished the night with a nice bouncy drum and bass track. Ah, pure bliss! On a lighter note, I noticed that Stevie G spent most of the night on the dance floor instead of backstage. As Stevie has been kind enough to leave a few comments on my blog in the past, I was tempted to go up and introduce myself but given that I had spent most of the night dancing like an absolute looney not too far from where he was standing and given that I was sweating like a pig, I decided better of it. Anyway, I suspect he’s well tired of langers coming up to him spouting shite when he’s out trying to relax and enjoy himself so it might not have been the smartest idea anyway. So that’s that, I’ll close by just saying to Bat Girl, Snow Girl, Rat Girl, Doc and DJ and anyone else that cares, it’s a pity you couldn’t go, I reckon you would have all enjoyed yourselves!
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Ok, you can file this one under the heading of “blowing your own trumpet” (no, you bold lewd people, I don’t mean in that way, notwithstanding the fact that it would be a nigh impossible feat of fantastical gymnastic ability), just to show that it’s not all about relatively trivial stuff like music and film or alternatively lowering the tone at every opportunity, feel free to check out my insightful contribution to a quantum cryptography post on one of the New Scientist blogs, albeit in the form of a comment.
Ok, ok, so it’s like not the biggest deal in the World ever but, nevertheless, the fact that it was accepted by the moderator and resulted in a follow up reply from the author made me happy and, sometimes, it’s the small things that count. Worryingly, the author never did clarify whether or not I am in fact an idiot! Also, in my eagerness I omitted the word "other" from the last sentence of my comment... damn.
If, unlike all of those pretty and intelligent girlies at the secret UCC rat experimentation lab, you don’t regularly read the New Scientist blogs then you don’t know what you’re missing. So for a change, why not stimulate your brain for a few minutes and check out the links below.
New Scientist Short Sharp Science Blog
New Scientist Invention Blog
New Scientist Technology Blog
Speaking of lab rats, Rat Girl, did you give back that book yet? Don’t be coy now, you know exactly what I’m talking about!
Monday, June 05, 2006
Mission Impossible 3
I went to see Mission Impossible 3 with Junior MC recently. Ok, admittedly I dragged him there against his will. Why the hell I wanted to go see it in the first place is a bit of a mystery to me as I thought the first Mission Impossible film was only ok and I actually found the second one quite boring. I think it has something to do with the brilliant theme tune, I’m a complete sucker for a good choon and I’ve even heard an amazing drum and bass version of the Mission Impossible theme, which I think is part of the reason that I keep giving this stupid series another go.
Anyway, pretty much standard fare in this third outing. Tom runs, Tom jumps, Tom dodges bullets, Tom dispenses justice to his enemies, Tom looks clean shaven at all times and Tom continues to look like he hasn’t aged a day since the first Mission Impossible film. Hmmm, maybe there’s something to this Scientology lark after all.
Look, don’t get me wrong, I’m not belittling Tom Cruise (geddit :-), in fairness he has all the dosh he could ever want and Katie Holmes to boot. And on that note, for the love of God, would someone just slap that girl and tell her to cop herself on. I don’t have a problem with the age gap, feck that, but this whole Scientology bullshit that she’s appears to have bought into like some simple brainwashed follower... please!
Oh yeah, back to the film. I dunno, lots of glamorous locations and exciting stunts but mind-numbingly boring overall apart from the few scenes with that scintillatingly seductive dress. Watch it on DVD if you really have to. Oddly enough, Junior actually enjoyed it and considering that he hates going to the cinema, the only conclusion I can come to is that he’s obviously closer to the mental age of the twelve year old target audience of this film! Still, as we were let in for free, I suppose I can't really complain too much.
Friday, June 02, 2006
The Girl with the Golden Mind
The Girl with the Golden Mind by China Blue is one of the funniest blogs I’ve come across and really deserves a look. In particular, her “Hollywood” post is an absolute scream but all of her other posts are just as funny, which is why I hate her already! Just do yourself a favour and check it out.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Tone Control & Exit Persued By A Bear
The Savoy runs a regular night called the Knock Knock Club on Wednesdays, the idea being, to use their own words, to allow you to hear small bands in a big room. One of the recent Knock Knock gigs featured a local Cork band called Tone Control supported by Exit Pursued By A Bear. Having visited Tone Control’s website beforehand, which is pretty nice by the way, I thought that they sounded kind of interesting particularly as they seemed to be heavily influenced by drum and bass. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I convinced Bat Girl that it might be worth going and as The Doc was already interested in seeing Exit Pursued By A Bear, he tagged along as well and brought Super CV with him.
After arriving around 10pm thinking we were late, we settled ourselves nicely up in the mezzanine section, which gave us a really great panoramic view of the proceedings taking place below, with The Doc immediately launching into a rant about how the first fifty people in the door were supposed to get a free CD. Of course unbeknownst to him, a member of the band had just walked up behind him clutching a big bundle of free CD’s while he was still in mid-flow. Ah yes, caught by the proverbial bollox! Tone Control were also making a DVD on the night, so we were all looking forward to immortalising ourselves by strutting our funky stuff in front of the cameras later on. Ok, that’s a complete lie, the only one of us that felt that way was me, the other three had every intention of running back to their seat screaming if a camera even gave the slightest inclination that it might look at them. I dunno, you can bring the friggin’ horse to the fecking water but you can’t make him dance! Like what’s that all about?
Around an hour and a half later, having by that stage endured Bat Girl’s tirade about how tired she was and about how she desperately needed to go home and get some sleep and how that if somebody didn’t take to the stage soon she was quite liable to do something real nasty to the fecking eejit that had dragged her there in the first place, I was beginning to feel a little vulnerable. Not to mention Super CV trying to convince us all that fifth and sixth class primary school kids are regularly giving each other blow jobs on the way to school - I dunno about you but I can tell ya straight up that there was none of that carry on in my day or at the very least I wasn’t getting any of it! Therefore, it was with no small sense of relief on my part that Exit Pursued By A Bear took to the stage at half past friggin’ eleven and finally got the proceedings underway.
Now, it wasn’t that I didn’t like them or that they weren’t very good, in fairness they seemed quite a capable bunch of lads and the lead singer did his best to inject a lot of angst into his work as well as relating a funny story to us about how they were once mistakenly called Exit Perused By A Bear. Look, it was funny at the time so, for feck’s sake, stop giving me grief! Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, they were fine but just not my cup of tea. Besides, Bat Girl was becoming crankier by the fecking minute as she grew more tired with each passing song, so I was desperately hoping that they would just quickly finish up so we could hear a bit of Tone Control and get the hell outta there! Hmmm, kind of paradoxical being called Bat Girl I reckon, when in complete contrast to your namesake you find it difficult to stay up past eleven o’clock at night. (Oops! I might just have just gotten myself into trouble there. Look that’s not a complaint but more of an observation, I’m sure you’re an absolute livewire in real life!)
Anyway, Tone Control eventually took to the stage at quarter past twelve and after one or two songs I found myself asking what I was doing there in the first place. Where was the bouncy drum and bass influenced goodness that I had promised myself? Where were the funky dance toons to which I could show off my fabulous moves to the expectant cameras? I’ll tell you where, fecking nowhere to be found! However, it was my own fault really as I had convinced myself that this band were going to be something completely different to what they turned out to be and that’s not really their fault. Also, The Doc says that the free CD is actually quite good, so I might change my mind a little when I actually get around to listening to it. Still, the whole night wasn’t a complete waste as I did console myself with a big juicy quarter-pounder with cheese from Abrakebabra on the way back to the car. Yummy! And no, I don’t want to hear any horror stories about food from Abrakebabra similar to Betty the Sheep’s post about her run in with some dodgy cheese and garlic fries. I don’t care what they put in them, it was still fecking yummy!