Alexis Petridis’ hilarious tweets about prospective tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg

How have I previously missed prospective Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg? “In 1997, he was parodied for canvassing in Central Fife with his nanny”

He later told the Mail On Sunday: “If I’ve got a nanny, I’ve got a nanny. And if anybody doesn’t like it – tough!”

He then added: “I do wish you wouldn’t keep going on about my nanny. If I had a valet you’d think it was perfectly normal.”

More Rees-Mogg. He apparently ended his speech at his recent wedding reception by shouting “LEFTIES – GET OUT!”

…which certainly makes a change from “charge your glasses to the bridesmaids”.

Fellow pupils at Downside public school debating society proposed the motion: “This House Would Like To Exterminate Jacob Rees-Mogg”

‘He’s a clever chap,’ a friend remarked. ‘Could have gone to the top. But he shoots himself in the foot with this stuff about his nanny.’

For Folk’s Sake

If anyone’s still reading this now dormant blog, please stop.

All my creative efforts now go towards www.forfolkssake.com.

Please check it out.

Thanks,

Lynn

Find Me the Face

Find me the face is a BBC3 program billed as a “documentary series in which two of the UK’s top model scouts, Becky Southwick and Jody Furlong, compete to find new talent.”

And I suppose it is, but the BBC’s description fails to convey what excruciating viewing it is thanks, primarily to Ms Southwick.

In the search for models (pronounced mod-duhs) who fit the show’s brief (lingerie, catwalk girl, beauty girl, etc) Becky and Jody take to the UK’s cities. Jody chuckles his way through encounters with pretty girls like a baby watching its mum making goo-goo noises and silly faces, while Becky grumpily proclaims that she’s just really pissed off because “This city is full of mingers” or “People here have been eating all the fucking pies.” Bless her.

Becky, who’s no size zero beauty herself, approaches her targets as if they were cattle at an auction. First she asks them if they’ve done any modeling before. If the answer is yes, cue a tantrum and the explanation – if the girl is lucky – “you don’t fit my brief.” Becky then talks to camera while the bemused girl wonders what just happened.

If the poor thing is lucky enough to get over that hurdle Becky will set about examining her. Sometimes their hips are a bit big, other times they have mild acne, but whatever is wrong with them, we can be sure that Becky will announce it to them, and to the audience, lovely chap that she is.

When the lovely Gok Wan – of How To Look Good Naked fame – calls a woman taking part in his show “my girl” it’s endearing. In fact, I have oft wished that one day I might be Gok’s girl (preferably without having to first experience the crippling insecurity and then the shame of stripping down to my m&s pants on TV that all his other girls endure.) But there’s something sinister about Becky calling the contestants she has picked her girls, you get the feeling she may have just taken ownership of their souls.

Anyway, the contestants are gradually whittled down to a final two. One each from the girls Becky and Jody have found. At this point Becky’s malignant attentions turn. She’s clever enough to realise there’s no point complaining about the one she’s left with. She now declares her girl the best and starts dissing Jody’s model to camera.

If the unthinkable should happen and Jody should win, Becky manfully takes it on the chin… along with cries of “they’re not looking for the right thing,” “I’ve been in this business for 12 years,” and “it’s just not FAIR.”

I’ll do my own morals, thanks.

Apparently, this year’s triumphant low-budget indie flick Juno is A Bad Thing For Society. In it 16-year-old Juno has sex, gets pregnant, has her baby adopted by a loving mother and goes back to her normal, happy life. Do you see that? See what they did there? She had underage, unprotected sex with little or no negative consequence! Where’s the mother-effing retribution?!

All manner of people are up in arms about poor old Juno. The pro-choicers think that she should have had an abortion. The pro-lifers think it’s great that she chooses to have her baby. But concerned lunatics everywhere think she sends out the message that kids getting pregnant is okay.

What Juno actually does is provide a brilliant 120 minutes of entertainment. The film is truly excellent. Juno, played by Ellen Page, is bright, independent and really really funny. She forgoes an abortion when she didn’t want a child and instead finds a couple looking to adopt a baby, carries her child to term then gives it away, quite happily. And no, there is no divine retribution (isn’t childbirth punishment enough?) but what we all have to understand here is that this is just a film.

It’s a made up story about one person. This film knows that it isn’t its job to make judgements on the character’s decisions, it just tells the story and well. The naysayers from different groups have one thing in common: they imply unquestioningly that films guide the morals of their viewers.

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Update 04/04

For the sort of intelligent, thoughtful commentary on this subject that I am unable to provide, take a look at Mike Monypenny’s blog here

Alcoholism: One for the golden oldies.

While supping on a Lidl’s gin and tonic at a party a while ago I was told by a friend that his gran drinks gin as a thirst-quencher, “she’s not an alcoholic,” he stressed.

Why not? I wonder. I fully intend to be an alcoholic when I’m old. I don’t really care about the addiction side of things, I’m going to be drinking so regularly that it’ll hardly matter. There’ll be no point looking after my body which is sure to have all but given up, and chances are my mind won’t be up to much either.

I’m also contemplating developing a drug habit. Probably when I’m about 80. I plan to collect my pension from the post office, nip round the back to meet my dealer then hobble home with a gram of smack in my cheek.

I will not be the only oldie drinking myself into a stupor. I’m following the lead of people like Patricia, a contestant on Come Dine With Me who started her evening with a glass of sherry and put it in every dish, and Jennifer Patterson of the Two Fat Ladies who ended each show with a stiff drink and whose food rivaled Nigella’s in fat content.

With the Two Fat Ladies in mind, I’m also going to gorge myself silly on whatever the hell I want to eat. And the brilliant part is, I won’t live long enough to get too fat. I’m going to reward myself for a youth of eating moderately, and eshewing substance abuse with an old age of decadence and hedonism.

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UPDATE – 3/02/08

My uncle Peter Rice is a psychiatrist specialising in alcohol and drug abuse. He has been calling for an increase in prices of alcohol to decrease its appeal. His arguments are extremly hard to disagree with, sadly.

He used the term “Saga Louts” to describe oldies who overindulge in the sauce last year. Here he gets laid into by a bunch of tories.

Brand, Walliams and Ross die on their feet at Morrissey gig

Russell Brand, David Walliams and Jonathan Ross took to London’s Roundhouse’s stage on Friday night after Morrissey abandoned the gig because he lost his voice.

According to ol’ Russ on his BBC Radio 2 show on Saturday the three comedians had gone to the show together and decided to get up partly to appease the baying crowd, and partly out of a shared passion for showing off.

Rather than being pleased that the announcement that Morrissey wasn’t able to come back on was given by arguably two of the country’s finest comedians (and Jonathan Ross) who were clearly willing to do some impromptu stand up, the crowd booed and pelted them with coins and bottles until they were ushered off the stage. After which, of course, there was no entertainment to be had and everyone had to go home.

Apparently Ross and Walliams got attacked outside the gig too.

Morrissey fans are mental.

YouTube footage

Continue reading

Westboro Baptist Church

Westboro Baptist Church’s propaganda is all over the internet. Not in a sinister way, but the news that they plan to picket Heath Ledger’s funeral has been posted on facebook and myspace walls everywhere and emailed to death.

They are all too easy to dismiss as a bunch of loons. Because they are a bunch of loons. The fact that they’re so interested in other adults’ sex lives is more than a little bit pervy, and I think all this gay-bashing is more of an excuse to hold signs with rude pictures on them (see madman below) and bond with their peers than anything else.

Mentalist

Really, if you were going to make a serious point would you use a wee picture of two people shagging? I think no.

But as fun as laughing at half-wit bigots is, it’s actually all a bit worrying. Quite aside from the horrible distress they cause by picketing funerals (at random as far as I can see: they picket the funerals of soldiers because they defended a country that allows gays… what the eff?) there are gay people who have to grow up in their malevolent shadow.

According to The Rough Guide to the USA:

“In the heartland [of America] life can look more like the Fifties – away from large cities, homosexuals are oppressed and commonly reviled. Gay travellers need to watch their step to avoid hassles and possible aggression.”

I know Rough Guides aren’t a piece of political literature, but a “sadly” wouldn’t have gone amiss. It just seems a bit flippant. “Oi gays. You’re reviled, okay? Watch your step.”

What’s more it shows the Westboro bigots are not a mental minority, in the deep south their views are the norm. And that’s making me lose my faith in democracy. Something needs to be done to protect the gay people in these areas. But as homophobia is so widely accepted, any state intervention would be suicide for whichever party put it in place.