Jealousy is Guilty But Cathartic

If something is over-stated enough it becomes thrust in your face. If something is over-stated enough it becomes something to look past not at.

New And Improved Peanut Butter Now 100% Asbestos Free

Today felt like a game of thrones in work. Kathryn left today to set sail for waters NFU, along with in absentia Jayna and Al. Gonna do my utmost to keep in contact with them.

Again to the usual Saturday consisted of munching food from around franchise hotspots, the most delicious steak bake ever from Greggs, tesco pasta and a mcdonalds to celebrate Kathryn's departure. It's deplorable how much money you can spend purely because you're too impatient to go home and have food. Maybe it's just a hunger for more life. If that's possible.

The Lime song got completed today. I'm probably gonna agonise more over its title than its composition. And that does not seem to bother me in the slightest.

5 days until I'm stepping on a plane. It looks like I'm gonna have to shell out the £30 to check my bag in at the airport, mum is locating a suitable case to take into the cabin but fitting a week of my life into a duffle bag is bad enough. Oh what a wicked web.

Pionering New Research Shows Drugs Are "Very Big" and "Very Clever"

"One view called me to another." - Rudyard Kipling

So emerges the straggly and mud-stained creature that is a Friday. At the moment fridays function a bit like my sundays, as opposed to Sunday which also functions like a Sunday. I guess I'm edging ever closer to months of sundays.

Well my review is up on the shout4music site and I'm awaiting word about other gigs around town I'm to cover. This is, predictably great stuff and the experience alone will be enjoyable. I'd quite like to go back to the lecturers from HNC Journalism and give them an update on what I'm about to be doing and indirectly apologise for being a petulant self-possessed teenager back when i stormed out the course in a hail of pretend glory.

This is definitely an odd time, where everything seems to be in transit and contradicting myself. new jobs and new people are being beset by bad news, family illnesses and a feeling of restlessness. Well I guess the wish for peace and quiet in 2012 was merely a pipedream for a champion drama king like me. (I still stand by my plea that drama follows me, not the other way around.)

We'll have to see how things go. As such, with seemingly everyone around me in some sort of transit the most interesting option is to do the same. Hopefully no sex changes in 2012.


http://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/science-vs-god-richard-dawkins-takes-on-archbishop-of-canterbury-7440051.html

I was also delighted to read this article. Having been an athiest since, well, forever I have never regarded religion as anything but an interesting story that pulls in millions of gullible people. hence by the flippant tone, It's never been of much interest to me. And again the classic riposte - "How many people have blown up buses in the name of athiesm?"

"Music To Me Is Like What Gardening Is To Gardeners"

DF: "Well it's a real treat to meet you Rihanna, I'm guessing Glasgow is a bit of a far cry from Los Angeles or the like."

R: "Oh well I always love coming to Britain, the fans are always so enthusiastic and the music scene here is great."

DF: "What in particular about British music or the British scene do you like?"

R: "Oh just the music in general. Sorry my manager always tells me to give positive and open-ended responses even if I can't stand the interviewer or I don't know what the hell I'm talking about or the questions are stupid."

DF: "What's the worst interview you've ever had? And feel free to say me, to be honest I'm not that good at my job."

R: "I don't have one that comes to mind as being the absolute worst but there has been a few for E! that were really terrible. Asking questions about my hair, my foundation, of what relevance is that to anyone? It's my music that's made me who I am, not what's on my nails or on my dinner plate"

DF: "Interesting stuff Rihanna. Anyway, back to the questions, so what are your plans for 2012? Will see a follow up to "Talk That Talk?"

R: "Well I'm just doing some demos wherever I'm staying at the moment, I'm always in a creative mode, even during tours."

DF: "Excellent, and aside from that just tours coming up?"

R: "Yes, I'm doing my American tour in March then Australia and Asia over the summer. Right now I'm just in Glasgow here filming some scenes for Coldplay's new video that i'm featuring on.

DF: "Great, did you like working with Chris Martin? I hear the Coldplay guys are all a nice bunch."

R: "Hardly. The rest of them don't say a word and Chris never shuts up about Fairtrade. To make matters worse he's been tweeting as if we're the best of friends now."

DF: "So you won't be chomping at the bit to work with them again?"

R: "Between you and me I'll shoot my managers if I'm in the same room as them ever again."

DF: "Wow, quite bitchy I must say Rihanna. It's refreshing to hear a musician like yourself expressing her views without being constrained by the conservatism of pop culture."

R: "To be honest being a pop star is like being a politician these days, if I so much as get caught eating a McDonalds it's like a national scandal."

DF: "It must be a difficult way to be, especially with the advent of camera phones/global communication and everything else that can record people's every movement and make it history with the click of a button."

R: "I completely agree. For the record I don't like McDonalds. I'm a Burger King girl myself."

DF: "So what can we expect from your future work? More songs about sex, men, being drunk, more sex to some synthesised Caribbean beats?"

R: "Pretty much. There might be some vapid attempt at social awareness. I campaign on behalf of some charities that help terminally ill children and for raising awareness about the situation in Malawi.

DF: "What situation?"

R: "Apparently there's a civil war going on there or something. I'll need to get my press agent to remind me about that one."

DF: "Oh well. About your music first of all, what do you think are your biggest influences and inspiration for what you do?"

R: "I guess mainly my upbringing in Barbados, the Caribbean way of life. There's such a rich and unique musical culture there, even now it strongly impacts what I do in my music today, whether I'm in Los Angeles or anywhere, really."

DF: "Has the way you approach or feel about recording and performing changed over the years?"

R: "Well I think as you mature and progress not only as an artist but as a person your outlook changes and how what you do is received by others has an effect too. I could say I'm lucky that fans have responded so well to my albums and songs, but my ethos hasn't really shifted. Music to me is what gardening is to gardeners."

DF: "A way of maintaining your garden?"

R: "No, just what you're built to do and what comes naturally. I haven't had any other passion or venture outside of music, it's always been my lifestyle and I think that passion shows in my performances."

DF: "Well with millions of fans and record sales behind you i guess you have me there Rihanna. About your performances, they've been called everything from a spectacle to racy and unsuitable for your younger fans. How do you feel about the latter comments?"

R: "We live in a sexualised world Daniel. So many things that we consume, enjoy and partake in today is sexualised or linked with the pursuit and psychology of sex that it's hard to escape, and hard for an artist like me to avoid those labels.Yes you can say my body and what my music implies is central to my image, and arguably my album sales but I'm not the only one. It's the harsh fact, people want to buy sex in all its forms, whether direct or indirect."

DF: "But do you feel it's detrimental to your integrity as an artist to merely be a "sex symbol" or be considered "racy" and "suggestive" in the pop music world?"

R: "For about 20 minutes then a paycheck comes in for $40,000,  after that it somehow doesn't matter that much anymore."

DF: "That's an interesting thought Rihanna and I appreciate your honest and insightful thoughts today. Have fun with the new demos and filming with Coldplay. Just to wrap up, what can we expect from your next shows?"

R: "Big fiery pyrotechnics going "BANG!!!!" and "WHOOOSHHH!!!!" And me appearing out of cannons and all sorts.

And now you know, the woman behind the music

"Die Daniel, Die? No That's German For 'The Daniel, The'"

Well shout4music emailed me back and I may be getting my own position doing live and album reviews! Needless to say this is brilliant news and as it happens things seem to be moving forward... if they get back to me about what albums/gigs I need to do.

On the world around me front, there is more and more winds of change, that cannot be blogged for banter reasons at the moment. Emma and I have made a pact to be in charge of each other's "personal development plans" for 2012, which we have agreed is gonna be our year, in the sense that it is going to made the most of, not that we plan to gain ownership of the entire year itself, or subsequent years for that matter. Al's birthday was a laugh, marked by the necessary amount of mishaps and drama. As a rule of thumb I've pretty much accepted that drama will stalk me throughout my life in varying intensities, but then again to what extent am I leading it on myself?

In about a week and a half's time I'm gonna be stepping on my first plane in about 7 years. I've traditionally despised flying in all its forms, from the weird cabin smell to the off-chance the plane is taken over by some terrorists and plunged into a landmark. If that was the case I'd quite like to see Mount Rushmore before crashing into it in a fiery ball. And guess what? It's £18 to check a piece of luggage. Having refused to pay for it online I'm faced with the difficult dilemma of buying a bag thats 55x46x25 cm andf cramming a week's worth of life into it or just checking a fucking bag in. Easyjet - not so easy (I hope i'm the first person in recorded history ever to find a grievance with a low-cost airliner)

Paddling Pools Make Great Makeshift Baths For Dogs

So Brand New were, as expected pretty good. Although there was a severe lack of songs from Daisy, it's not my favourite album anyway. I would have sold everyone i've ever met  and loved down the river in a heartbeat to hear The Shower Scene nonetheless. I swapped my standing for a seating ticket, having purchased the ticket from a mate in work only to find out it was completely sold out I was not prepared to be hustled and bustled by teenagers. The ultimate sweet irony was that I was once exactly one of those types, 15 years old at brand new in 2007 right after Devil and God came out. Time certainly ages and enrages you. While I can't say they are now my gospel for life as they once were, they can belt out a tune.

more importantly, the review's getting submitted to wherever I can. More often than not (and probably linked to the reasons for this blog existing) I'm getting the irresistable urge to write, review and analyse. Hampered by extreme laziness, back in the days of drinking and whatever else every single day for pure entertainment I'm getting more and more a kick out of scribbling down any thoughts and ideas that appear in my warped mind.

it's important, actually essential to write from inside, and write "what you know." amusingly, this was one of the first things, or philosophies we were told in HNC Journalism, back when I was 17 with my bleach blonde hair and bad attitude. It's even crazier to think that was nearly 4 years ago. Am i starting to develop a full-fledged, "back in the day" behind me??? Hopefully youth isn't seeping out through the window. hopefully not.

Writing from my head, and sometimes (just for soppy points) from the heart is a lesson i've rediscovered in recent weeks. Seeing an old favourite band last night brought back not only the necessary nostalgic twinge, but the feeling even bigger that I have to do something and start enjoying the free-form focus of writing and reflecting on the wondrous things I see and feel every day. Such as it is!

For all I cast it off when the pitfalls of higher education failed me and put me off journalism forever, it's creeping back into my psyche as something to enjoy, something to do, and ultimately, just a way of life. My greatest fear, it seems is ending up in a call centre or some other nameless role just being cushty with enough money to do myself, go out and enjoy myself and continue life on the worn path it's on. fortunately and un-fortunately for me it's been this, along with the drag of university life that have served as inspiration to put it all out there and give what I know i'm into a bash.

I could almost regard myself as a poster boy for procrastination (What is with all this alliteration?), and now, that time is coming to an end. The potential for a new job, new things and hopefully a new musical endeavour is on the horizon.

In fact, new resolution, it's not "hopefully," it's FUCKIN HAPPENIN!!!

Me And The Monorail

This is merely an issue of a previous  attempt at public announcements/blogging.

In the confines of my Studio of Terrible Ideas (my bedroom) and in my immediate realm I'm largely free from exposure to what is essentially the worst excesses of society. The circle of company I keep and our comparitively zany discourse thankfully limits this too. It's no secret that TV is shit these days, and the majority of films are just mediocre re-hashes of old plots and ideas.

With the zap of a button and a steadfast refusal to enter a cinema like I said, I can limit my exposure. Nonetheless, the X Factor is simply the vilest and thought-inhibiting piece of television that has ever existed. Not just for it's vapid entertainment value, it's a jarring metaphor for everything wrong with modern culture.

On the actual content of the show itself, a natural cynic like me gets barely a flutter of enjoyment watching delusional, personality-free idiots with a microphone and a sob story massacre Katy Perry and Pink covers to  jeering and extremely public humiliation. What's really quite alarming is that these people are pre-selected by the production to go out and embarrass themselves wrapped up in the pretty package of "giving it a go," completely unaware or unfazed by the fact that they are on the show for just that.

Any human being alive that can possess both the misguided confidence in their singing "talent" and the impertinent self-worth contained in their god-given right to be rich and famous should never be allowed anywhere near the public eye. In fact, I might go as far as to seal these people in a classroom with dusty books and grimy windows and drum into them for eternity their irrelevance and unremarkability.

But I hear you say "Felix! WTF? How can you slag X Factor for that when you watch Big Brother." Big Brother is by no means respectable television but at least it doesn't even try to hide the fact that it subjects its vacuous participants to comic social torture and promises nothing but an after-life of mediocrity and obscurity. Even the talented and successful X Factor contestants can look forward to putting their voice to chart-topping hits like "I Am The Lizard Queen" and "I Desperately Want To Have Sexual Intercourse And Romantic Relations With *object of my dreams* So I Will Convert That Emotion Into 3 Minutes Of Synthesised Beats And Melodies"

The real horror is the underlying aspects of the X Factor. The judges themselves, caked in make-up and body-flattering suits and dresses are nothing more than a vapid, mutated-Fab Four gaggle of idiots. Gary Barlow has the cocksure talented  and experienced air and rightfully puts terrible people and Louis Walsh in his place but unfortunately, I cannot stress enough just what a horrific human being Gary Barlow is. He is quite simply Hitler multiplied by the Viet Cong multiplied by Harold Shipman in association with Margaret Thatcher. Louis Walsh is an older man that wears shirts with jeans, so is automatically a pedophile. In a decisive victory against 50+ years of struggle for  feminine equality and status the women serve the same purpose as oil paintings, attractive to look at and discarded when too old and too out of date.

Every sound, flash, whoosh and stir is over-produced to hell which sortof makes the entire process of watching these kinds of shows a bit like staring at a strobe light. Why is this a bad thing? Becuase it's subtley assuming and promoting the notion that we are an audience of ignorant and illiterate twits who need spoonfed what  and when to feel and think. We like simple, cheap, stupid entertainment with no subversity, subtext or anything remotely thought-provoking or complicated to trouble our calm minds. X Factor and its ilk are sickeningly safe and unoffensive to appeal to the moral guardians and reactionary Luddite generation and the highest and lowest degrees of human ignorance.

And yes, I've been giving X Factor the stick when other "talent" competition shows promote the same values. Strictly Come Dancing and Dancing On Ice assume that we are desperate to watch celebrities attempt to dance, and their glossy, eye-straining bright sets and flashing lights reduce the entire art of watching television to simply pointing and looking at pretty colours and sounds.

Then again, X factor's viewership bafflingly rises every year, and the drama and sorrow is played with an army of violins to the highest degree. Of course as people we cannot perceive understand emotion and context itself, it has to be spelled out, vamped up and thrust in our faces until we understand it.

These kind of TV shows stifle and demonise intelligence and free thought and the ability to question the world. Shining example - Red Vs. Black. The crux of the gameshow format is to test the intelligence, atheltic prowess and general hard-work and talent of contestants and its pathos per se is those qualities paying off in a victory for the sometimes deserving winner.

Red Vs. Black reduces even this to the convoluted flip of a coin, promising people riches and wonder and all these fucking imbeciles have to do is succeed a 50/50 choice a number of times. And if that's not enough - the audience is treated to blurbs about the participants' wishes with the money they'll never have and their spiel involving why they deserve it - "My Boyfriend Was Murdered By A Rowdy Gang Of Asian Youths, Chopped Up And Served Up In Kebabs Across The Merseyside Area But £1,000,000 And A Career In Television Should Settle My Grief Pretty Fast Cheers Thanks."

TV aims to inform but sadly, we are slowly but surely being spoonfed the ideals of no thought, no action and no intelligence. Anyone that watches them and enjoys them might as well surgically remove their frontal lobes and cook them into a kebab from the Merseyside area.

Life Is Only Worth Living If You Have Self-Validation

So on this valentine's day, I am again revelling in having nothing (and no one) to do. 2 years ago it was skinning my knees falling down stairs at a singles disco, last year it was the unfortunate events that surrounded the move into this flat. It's almost a cliche for me to despise valentine's day as much as all the other single people do, it's more lumped in with all the other invented holidays that I give the cold shoulder to (Christmas and Halloween get a free pass for the delicious food and dressing up like an idiot).

In fact today marks the year anniversary that I moved into dennistoun towers, and what a year it's been! This also happens to be the longest time I've spent in a flat without either being evicted/having to move out/wanting to move out. So valentine's day = good so far. However, in a necessary change of scene I swapped rooms with stoo and jade over the weekend, living room to bedroom. Some may call it Flowers for Algernon, but the big room is cold and unflinching and I wanted said chnage of scene. Time will only tell if it works out or my stuff ends up in the middle of duke street in bin bags.

I am also somewhat sad to hear that Whitney Houston died. For all her faults (The Bodyguard being one of them) and transgressions (Crack being another) she did have quite a soul and a voice. and i'm guessing she was probably a good laugh too. Oh well.

Nonetheless, my valentine's day will be filled with attending Brand New at the o2 tonight. Interestingly, I came to see Brand New about 5 years ago (almost to the day) at the same place with my brother. This was just after Devil and God was released and I distinctly remember getting extremely pissed off with the fact that YFW/Deja/DAG songs were all played chrono-sequentially. Something obscure but valid to get pissed off at at age 15. if they do it tonight again I'll be equally as fucked off.

Uni is still dreary as ever. All classes at the john weir still cancelled/moved. and the siege guy turned out to be a nobody.

The Scottish Approach To Terrorism Is Outright Indifference

http://news.stv.tv/scotland/west-central/297144-armed-police-in-glasgow-city-centre-subway-incident/

Interestingly enough, most people's reactions seem more to be "whits gawn oan" and "how am i gettin fuckin home" rather than mindless apocalyptic panic.

To put this into perspective, Reporting Scotland ran the story second in the news bulletins, after some Rangers drama.

For all independence might fuck us up, we sure know how to keep calm and carry on.

UPDATE: I've only recently realised the weirdly prophetic comments I made about the fire at strathclyde and everyone over-reacting. Well, everyone under-reacted. That's me telt

Why Jeremy Kyle Should Be Compulsive Family Viewing Forever

There must be some sort of social or online gathering space for people who make endless plans and never see them through. Today, Friday being my de facto "day off" was to be filled with going to the council tax office, re-setting up a TV License, going food shopping and taking my rightful turn at cleaning the bathroom.

Predictably none of these have been accomplished. Last night I attended a work night out at my usual favourite establishments which ended in a hazy flash. No one really likes those people who bang on endlessly about the hysterical and "random" timens that they had, or just had when they were steaming drunk or fucked on various chemicals and minerals. So it was another night in another pub enough said.

My habit of make plans, make plans and ultimately break plans is getting worse.

Nonetheless, daytime TV provides a comfortable space to revel in your laziness. The Wright Stuff and Jeremy Kyle have a tranquilising effect on the guilt associated with not being arsed to do anything. There should be support centres for like-minded bored and bone idol people. Preferably quite close so I don't have to walk too far

The Difficult First Blog

The biggest irony in starting my own blog comes from a dismissive retort to anyone's critical or dismissive comments towards myself which I have (and still do!) employ, "Save it for your blog." (it rarely offends as much as I'd like it to). So starting my own blog, namely eating my own words and spitting them back out again is exactly what I'm doing.

Fortunately I possess virtually no talent at web design or layout so the agonising process of choosing a font, layout and background has taken me all of 10 seconds. Ohh blue! Ohhh Ethereal! I spent more time this morning deciding if I wanted either a tuna or a cajun chicken toastie. But then again decisions like the latter are tense and difficult, and rightfully so.

The inspiration/kick-up-the-arse to finally expunge my soul onto the internet came today after constant one-second powercuts had this building (and probably a good chunk of the street) becoming something  of an epileptic disco for housewives for a good few hours. Additionally, the fire alarm evacuated the Strathclyde library, right after krazy khemists nearly blew up the James Weir building on Tuesday (in a great twist of fate, my classes, subsequently cancelled happened to be held there). I'll be damned if the student newspaper on Monday doesn't read "TERROR HITS STRATHCLYDE!" and I'd look gorgeous in a gas mask if I'm being honest.

I shouldn't jest though. University education is important, probably vital in the days where you now need a 2:1 to stack shelves in Aldi, judging by how many jobs there seem to be, relative to the souls that apply for them. I happen to also possess one of those jobs, but there are dire consequences for berating or discussing your employers on the internet, especially when everything you say can be traced right back to yourself. So that aspect will not even get so much as a mention, ever.

Well that was a difficult first post. Some actual content may rear its ugly head next time, and I will make this all look very interesting and scenic with an awfully handled picture of Edinburgh