There’s a bastard great poster doing the rounds on the South West Trains network advertising the horse racing at Ascot, in a desperate attempt to get the punters in for a sport that's dying on its arse. One of the things they are trying is the racing meet/pop concert in the misguided opinion that the gig crowd has money to burn on the gee-gees. Last Saturday it was a bunch of nags and The Human League. But it’s August 9th that caught my attention: the Blue Square Shergar Cup with Melanie C. How will the punters tell them apart? And more to the point, can I put twenty quid on Sporty Spice each way?
Whatever next - Robbie Williams rides Geri Haliwell to victory in the thousand guineas while Elton John pays good money to watch? Ah, that's already happened.
Swearing on TV: It's a fucking disgrace. I'm very impressed with the Mediawatch report, which was put together by obviously dedicated people, who clearly sat up until God knows what time in the morning, counting all one hundred and ninety-seven "fucks" in Reservoir Dogs. I could have told them it was a pile of over-rated bollocks and saved them a lot of effort. For absolutely no reason, other to reproduce a load of gratuitous swearing the following is copied verbatim:
"In the 60 films the word SHIT and its derivatives occurred 827 times, the word FUCK and its derivatives occurred 1429 times and JESUS and/or CHRIST used as expletives occurred 221 times
Derivatives include: SHIT HEAD, SHITTY, BULL SHIT, HORSE SHIT, CHICKEN SHIT, HOLY SHIT. FUCKED, FUCKER, FUCKING, MOTHER FUCKER.
Other swear words used less frequently as terms of abuse or insult were: ARSE, ARSE HOLE, BASTARD, BUGGER, COCKSUCKER, PRICK, WANKER."
Sounds like your average evening down the pub; or the result of a small boy leafing through the family dictionary for the best bits, an activity I haven't indulged in for at least three or four weeks. Tops.
"Crap Movie Reviews - The final furlong"
Moulin Rouge - Reviewed by Jon Hill
A shrill, cunty, bewildering, pissed-up drama student of a film, like spending an hour with the world’s most annoying, deeley-boppered teenaged girl ‘ironically’ shrieking ABBA songs into your ear. The universally abominable cast smugly jockey for position and attempt to out-bellow and out-mug one another against an ugly, garish backdrop that makes Paris look like an enormous trifle.
Thoroughly post-modern in its utter wankery, Moulin Rouge is a film deeply in love with itself. “Oh Moulin Rouge, I love you – you are so very audacious and clever”, “No Moulin Rouge, it is YOU who is a hilarious, deliciously camp homage to all things fabulous!”
As with all kitsch, it is an affront to all that is GENUINELY fun, joyous, and uncomplicated. And at the core of this tasteless, humourless, brash, smug turd of a film lies the wizened, cynical heart of super-dilletante and all round cock Baz Luhrrman. If ever a man needed a slap… Worst of all, this film was so universally praised, that to say you hated it was to be branded a sour, joyless curmudgeon. The injustice…
Everyone in it is shit. The script is shit. The direction is shit. The whole thing, as a whole is wholly SHIT. And if you like it you are a twat. Is that unfair?
Scary says: "Come on John, say it like you mean it!"
Scary also says: "Vote in our bad movie poll. Just a few days left to rig the results!"