Academia is carving out new frontiers in flimflam and chicanery.

Have Hugh ever wondered how to write an academic paper? What with the vertiginous standards of contemporary writing out there, no one would blame you for feeling intimidated out of it:

Real.

As you can see, this is real cutting-edge stuff. But don't be discouraged: with a bit of coaching, you too can write important essays on identity cults and the narcissists who love them. Follow these six simple steps to ensure your intellectual prolapse will pass for the real thing.

• Add "-ness" to words that don't end in -ness. Examples could include "unknowableness" or  even "being-ness". "Otherness" is a must.
• Always remember to pluralise words that don't need to be plural, in such a way as to imply that there are subtle differences within and around a concept that only you can understand. For example, never speak of "postmodernism" but "postmodernisms". Use this even with collective terms like "public" (publics). If you combine this with the above tactic, you score a combo which is worth at least 1000 ticks. Be sure to write about "Blacknesses" and "subjectivenesses" for mad approval.
• Find someone who is different from you and accuse them of "othering" you (or the minority you purport to speak for, if you're feeling in the mood for condescending to yet another group that are unlike you). If you do this quickly and stridently enough, nobody will notice that you are the only one "othering" people by bringing up irrelevant details about them like their sex or hair colour.
• Make sure to "reclaim" words like "bitch" and "queer" so you can pretend to be rebellious while getting headpats from a quintessentially establishment institution. I remember when I first learned that "queer theory" was used by professionals. You might as well call it "bumming studies". Troll academics by pointing out that this is cultural appropriation of black people, who invented reclaiming so they would have something to rhyme with trigger in their rap songs.
• Never write in the first person, as this makes it too obvious that everything you're saying is your unexamined left-lib prejudices. Instead of removing your ass-ignorant worldview from your writing, just remove all references to "I", "me" and "mine" (this is what academics actually teach).
• Astute readers will note that all this stuff relates to form and style. This is because the substance of academic writing ceased to be important in, like, probably the 50s. No one cares, for instance, that Hamlet is all about Shakespear's Sister's depression over their dead son, the decline of empire, and the existential horror of not knowing what comes after death. Is Hamlet gay? Does he exhibit othernesses? Academia demands to know.

If you but follow these few steps, you'll soon be well on your way to balding, supercilious glory.

In defence of hair metal

In this article I struggle to articulate why, contrary to everything you've been told, hair metal is great and people who don't like it are communists. For the purposes of our article "hair metal" includes glam metal, sleaze rock, hard rock, and anything else I want it to, because it's all the same thing.

Lita Ford, or Sebastian Bach. Pic by Zoran Veselinovic.

1. Hair metal gives you priapism. Priapism is when you have a boner that lasts longer than nature or common sense would ordinarily allow. Exhibit A are these lyrics from Dangerous Toys:

Sport'n a woody, when you're walkin' by

Sport'n a woody, when your titties fly

Sport'n a woody, rippin' my fly

Sport'n a woody, till the day I die

As you can see, in addition to some of the most beautiful poetry ever committed to song, this represents an enormously long time to be presenting with a hardon. Note that the title is "Sport'n a Woody", because hair metal loves the -'n formation. You wouldn't want to write "Sporting a Woody" and look stupid now, would you?

2. Hair metal bands know no fear. Not only does Mötley Crüe routinely shout at the Devil, but Dokken actually scares Freddy Krueger. Nikki Sixx is mostly famous for dying of a heroin overdose, waking up, and going home to shoot more heroin.

3. Everyone had to be hair metal in the 1980s, including classic rock acts like Aerosmith and Alice Cooper. This means that if Jim Morrison had survived longer than is cool, he would have sprayed his hair and sung about dicks. I think we can agree this is definitely something that should have happened. Furthermore, "bad ass" 90s metal bands like Pantera and Alice in Chains used to be hair metal before their big breaks, generating endless lulz.

4. Also called "cock rock". Bands included Cycle Sluts From Hell and Faster Pussycat, and Danger Danger, all of whose songs had repeated one-word titles, like "Bang Bang" and "Dicks Dicks" (maybe).

5. Gave the PMRC (sort of the 80s version of SocJus) fainting spells over their lyrics. Dee Snyder hilariously trolled the retards by revealing that the song they thought was about sexual torture was about a trip to the dentist, giving us a good idea of how stupid the people presently whining about video games are going to look in a few years' time.

What's your favourite hair metal band??? Does it matter??? If a train leaves the station travelling at 45 degrees, how long does it take for Suresh to find x???

Grammar is the only field in which competence makes you a Nazi.

If you posted an incorrect math problem and somebody corrected you, would you call them a math Nazi? Probably not. Why the indelible connection between writing properly and national socialism? Can anyone help me? No.

Lawson sucks.

Are Mini Boglins the best toy of all?

When I go into a high street toyshop these days all I see are licensed toys: Star Wars Lego and Dora The Explorer Putty and Transformers Transformers. BOO. Forget all that, for in the late 80s and early 90s there was a much better toyline: Mini Boglins.

If my house were on fire, I'd save these first.

"Long ago the Boglins used to live in the Swamp but when the swamp dried up the Boglins had to find a new place to live"

- the official backstory

As you can tell the Boglins lore was artfully minimalistic, just like the rules. Every Boglin tribe was organised into a chief, spy, scout and messenger, as well as four regular Boglins. None of these sets came with the rules though. Some of the Mini Boglins had little stickers on their underside with secret codes that would show up when heated. Unfortunately heating them would also cause them to come off, and none of my surviving Boglins have their codes anymore :( It seems likely that the rules will be forever lost to future generations.

Chiefs were denoted by three horns on their heads. Who would entrust leadership to a guy repeatedly hitting his finger with a hammer? Boglins, that's who.

Tribes included:

• The Clumsies
• The Freaks
• The Greedies
• The Jokers
• The Rude Dudes
• The Tough Guys
• The Disgustings
• The Army Guys
• The Medievals
• The Prehistorics
• The Samurais

Each tribe lived in a different part of the house, like the chimney, or the drains. Further information can be found here.

The tribe I had the most of were the Clumsies, which I think explains my tendency to root for underdogs. Either that, or why I trip over thin air.

Army Guys got the garage, probably because they killed everybody else...

...Except this guy, who killed himself. Hey, kids have to learn about suicide before they find their dad swinging from the fixtures.

Mini Boglins were of course a spinoff of Boglins. I only had one large-sized Boglin, of the kind whose eyes pop out when you squeeze him. The larger Boglins came in plastic cages. I would have included a picture but I can't find him. And that, my friends, is about what you can expect of me.

This small (but not Mini) Boglin lost an eye, so I found another toy to share one with him.

There were others too, including these relatively rare, smaller ones.

I think they were "The Cool Dudes". Everything in the late 80s/90s involved "cool", "dudes" and sunglasses.

But no Boglin article would be complete without the greatest Boglin of all, from the Prehistoric tribe:

In back: a Boglin about to make an unwise decision.

Do you have any Boglins that I'm missing??? Are Boglins ur lief??? Have you ever written to Mattel demanding they produce moar Boglins or you'll top yourself??? That's probably taking it too far!!!

Blunt Force Troma: A Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell!!!

Everyone loves Troma, the studio that brought you such all-time classics as The Toxic Avenger, Surf Nazis Must Die, and the tender Tromeo and Juliet. Well, come with me and I shall take you on a journey to the far future of the Tromaverse. Yes, despite being populated by dinosaurs, A Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell is actually set in a post-nuclear future, like a much lower-budget Mad Max meets The Valley of Gwangi.

An appropriate response to everything in this movie.

Some questions may inevitably arise, like "what's a nymphoid?" and "what's going on?" Well, dear reader, let me advise you to leave such dreams of enlightenment in the dust where they belong. You'll never find out because there's virtually no dialogue. Fortunately, the DVD in which I got this movie (along with seminal slasher movie Graduation Day, which I'll be getting to later), contains a trailer that elucidates the post-nuclear scenario, because I never would've guessed this wasn't meant to be some sort of prehistoric budget Hyboria.

The back of this box actually gives away the ending of Graduation Day, for even less value!!!

Perhaps the reason it was decided that the movie was set in the future is because the dinosaurs don't really look like anything in particular, and Lloyd Kaufman cares about nothing if not saving you the stress of worrying what species they're supposed to be (this sentence is literally true, because Lloyd Kaufman does not give a fuck).

This was the family dog before the war (srs).

A Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell (a title you'll hear several times if you watch the trailer, which I advise you do because it's better than the film) stars "international cult heroine" Linda Corwin as Lea, the nymphoid barbarian of the title. When we meet her she's in the business of running around in a forest, because her family were killed in the war, and she woke up to find herself in Dinosaur Hell!!! IMDb reliably informs me that she's also credited as "Secondary Reptilian Goon", because this production was damned if it wasn't going to get full value for everyone it had to drag out there and feed. It also informs me the movie came out in 1990, which is a good couple of decades more recent than it looks.

Tromaville would come to regret spending its fallout shelter budget on a giant skull-faced castle. Note that the river in this shot is an effect, for no reason.

Anyway, Lea meets a guy named Marn, and because he's not deformed like everybody else, I guess that makes them a match made in Dinosaur Heaven. Marn spends most of the movie trying to save her from the evil, but inept Clon, with little success. She spends more time being rescued by a masked stranger (who perhaps not coincidentally resembles Toxie), and a giant sandworm out of Dune. There's also a man who reads "The Jabberwocky" and carries a gun, but he is of no consequence, and may just have wandered across the set while they were filming.

This movie is to 1 Million Years BC as Bizarro is to Superman: a weird, malformed imitation. The stop motion stuff is fun though. It's also fun to watch Clon bumble about losing limbs and getting brained all over the place. I don't recommend this movie to anyone, but it meets my criteria for notability, which is a wake-up call I shall choose to ignore as my body continues to decay.

The new citizenship test: how worthy are YOU to live near me?

I've decided to start a new country, because all the other ones have failed. Want to join me? You'll have to take the test, because I got here first. Despite not living here before, this test will gauge your knowledge of conditions in my new country, ensuring I'll have lots of space to myself.

Can jet fuel meet steel beams?

Hitler or Gacy: who is the better painter?

Arrange these fecal titles in descending order: shitlord, poop baron, crap count, dookie duke, diarrhoea admiral.

Which is better: And Now The Legacy Begins by Dream Warriors or Junior Citizen by Poster Children?

How many crows are in a mass murder?

If a cat is bicurious, does it die twice?

Who has bigger feet: Bigfoot or two Bigfoots?

Who wants to live in my country?

What I'm saying is, 90s music is best music. #lazy #padding #update

Bastard role models: Lee Ving

Lee Ving was the lead singer in Fear. Fear is a band about beer and hating people. Fear is awesome. They have such varied and interesting material as "Let's Have a War", "Fuck Christmas", and my personal favourite, "New York's Alright If You Like Saxophones".

Fear probably laid the groundwork for such sonic pioneers as Anal Cunt, and such intrepid bloggists as Pat Bastard and the Spurious 5. Everyone likes Fear.

Go away.

Sweet Dreams: 13 Facts About Freddy!!!

Everyone knows Jason, the lovable murderer from the Friday the 13th films. But how well do you know his fellow horror movie icon, Freddy Krueger? Freddy has been around since 1984's classic A Nightmare on Elm Street, and has amassed an enviable amount of trivia to his own name. Here is some of it:

1. Freddy was a child murderer who was burned alive after being freed on a technicality. So little of a fuck did Freddy give that he turned up to his own trial in a Christmas sweater.
   
2. The number of Freddy's child murder victims is unknown. Nancy's mom and Lisa from Part 2 both said it was around 20, while Alice in Part 5 said "20 or 30", and Freddy himself in Freddy Vs Jason claimed it was "dozens". Freddy loves killing children so much he invented a working glove of knives just to kill children with.
3. Freddy had an ice cream float he presumably used to get close to his victims, as seen in the pilot of Freddy's Nightmares. Apparently no one else at the factory where he worked thought this was strange.
   
4. Freddy can kill you in your dreams. To give the series some variety, this was extended to include things like daydreams and the dreams of your unborn child (Parts 4 and 5, respectively). He can also possess people (Part 2, Freddy Vs Jason), and reanimate his bones in the real world to fight you like the skeletons in Jason and the Argonauts. HE CAN ALSO MAKE YOUR PARAKEET EXPLODE.
   
5. Freddy, like Jason, can only be killed by whatever arbitrary plot bullshit is required to end the movie. However, unlike Jason, he is not brought back by electricity, but by flaming dog piss.
   
6. Freddy once appeared on the Dick Cavett show and killed Zsa Zsa Gabor (Part 3).
   
7. Freddy, like the Joker, likes to dress up as a nurse just to fuck with people.
   
8. As the series degenerated into self-parody, Freddy started breaking the fourth wall and addressing the audience directly, indicating that he knows he's in a movie. This explains how he was able to come out of the movies and attack the cast and crew in the real world in Wes Craven's New Nightmare.
9. Parts 1, 3 and 7 are actually good movies.
10. The souls of Freddy's victims become trapped inside his body. Part 4 revealed these souls to include Linnea Quigley, of Return of the Living Dead, Graduation Day, Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers, Night of the Demons, Scream Queen Hot Tub Party, Silent Night Deadly Night, and Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-o-rama.
    
11. Freddy Krueger is the only person who can still pull off wearing a fedora without looking like a douche.
12. Pulling Freddy out of your dream will depower him and make him killable, except for all the times when it just doesn't, which is always. This is possibly because the whole series is one big dream, and Freddy is just trolling everybody the entire time.
13. This blackboard from Freddy's Dead appears to confirm that Freddy did the Third Reich, discovered America, fought in the War of 1812, killed Elvis, and prevented the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, confirming him for time travel as well as everything above. This makes about as much sense as anything else in Freddy's Dead.
    

Did you enjoy learning all about this important historical figure??? Do u crie every time??? Let me know in the comments (don't).

My predictions for the new Star Wars movie!!!!

Hello everyone!!! It's me, your favourite bastard!!! Today I will be talking about a very important news topic: the new Star Wars trailer!!!! This is important because lots of people like The Star Wars, even though it hasn't been good since 1983, when I was six!!!!!

When the first teaser trailer was revealed, in 1987, scary people who think they're going to marry Chewbacca or something dumb like that got super excited because the trailer had storm troopers in it, which is like watching the trailer for The Harry Potter and being excited that it has wizards in it, except stupider. Also some guy had a light sabre with a cross guard. I think his name was Darth Toyline.

The reason sequels to movies from 2000 years ago don't work is cause you finished the arc. Luke Sky Walker's arc concluded in Episode 8, when he fucking killed Darth Vader. Han Solo's arc killed all those Nazis. Carrie Fisher got into meth or something. There's no story left to tell. Mad Max completed his arc in Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior, where he found redemption and a sense of purpose by killing gay bondage pirates. That's why The Thunder Dome was such a disappointment that I tried to hang myself (it didn't work: security asked me to leave the mall). By the way, I hope The Mad Max 4: The Fury Road doesn't suck!!!!!

The other reason The Star Wars Episode 4: The The Force Awakens is going to be rubbish is because it's made by JJ Abrams, who is a very talented filmmaker who turned The Star Trek from a utopian fable about people of all races pioneering across the universe into The Die Hard 4: Ugly Lighting, Too Many Closeups, Lens Flare And Pandering. In case you don't remember, that was the movie where Captain Kirk meets Dr Spock by running into a random ice cave.

Suzy Snakebite Vs The Thinking Barbarian

Click to expand

Strength of mind is best strength.

Which is the gheyest politically correct term?

Hi everybody. My favourite politically correct term is "differently abled". This is a good and accurate term for people in wheelchairs: look at Professor X, he can read minds.

But not all politically correct terms are as on point as this. Take for example the term "people of colour". This is quite obviously just the old racist term "coloured people", they just changed the order of the words around. This is like calling a gay guy a "person of faggotry". I think politically correct people don't realise that that's how stupid that is, because their orthodoxy has eroded their brains like Creme Eggs erode teeth. Creme Eggs must only be eaten frozen. Put them in the freezer, they taste better. Be careful though: they may chip your teeth if you bite down on them like a dummy.

Sometimes "people of colour" is shortened to "POC", because nothing encapsulates respect for peoples' unique cultures and heritage like lumping them all in a homogeneous mass of not-whiteyness, and then reducing them to an acronym. If politically correct people were in charge of Hallmark, your happy retirement card would read "you're going to die soon", and they'd spend your retirement party bringing it up to everyone to tell them not to bring it up.

If this dystopia ever ends, history will look back on political correctness as a long, unbroken string of idiots shooting themselves in the foot for no reason, by first declaring pre-established terminology offensive, and then replacing it with something even worse, while the rest of us sat around wondering why you would need to invent ugly euphemisms for human beings in the first place.

Movie X Presents: Prom Night 3: The Last Kiss?

Prom Night 3 breaks series tradition by being a real sequel to the previous film! Luckily order was restored with Part 4, which once again had nothing to do with any of the others*. But for a brief, shining moment, this series flirted with continuity, and the result was Prom Night 3: The Last Kiss.

Mere fire cannot defeat Mary Lou's eyebrows.

The movie starts with Mary Lou Maloney, the villain of the previous film, trapped in "Bad Girl Hell", which is sort of a chorus line with dancers chained to the floor. Mary Lou escapes by breaking her shackles with a nail file, an excuse to bring her back so weak it makes Freddy Krueger's resurrection by flaming dog piss in The Dream Master seem well-thought-out. Mary Lou then kills a janitor with a jukebox, before setting her sights on our protagonist, Alex.

In a fit of almost reckless character development, Mary Lou is now looking to settle down, and her schtick evolves into a sort of Overly Attached Girlfriend thing with Alex. She kills everyone who is holding him back, enabling him to get good grades, excel at football, and become popular like never before. All he has to do is bury the bodies she leaves in her 50s-ass wake.

Lucy finds a new way to fuck with Charlie Brown.

While the first two Prom Nights tried to be like proper horror movies (with mixed success), Prom Night 3: The Last Kiss is a comedy from start to finish, like Rock And Roll High School with a body count. This allows Mary Lou, now played by the very charming Courtney Taylor, to cut loose with such hijinks as killing someone with a drill-shaped football (still not as good as the basketball head explosion in Deadly Friend), and impaling a guy's hands with ice cream cones. Even Jason never figured out a way to kill someone with those.

51 flavours...of death!!!

The incidental wackiness just makes this movie so adorable. There are throwaway gags delivered through the school's overhead announcements, quirky minor characters that keep things interesting, and bad acting of the best kind. It's the kind of movie that you know they knew was stupid when they made it, so they just had fun and it kind of wins you over.

Also starring the boom mic.

But by far the movie belongs to Courtney Taylor, whose Mary Lou is the most sadly overlooked of all the horror villains. While Part 2's Lisa Schrage played it straight, Taylor gives the character this kind of peppy, discount Audrey Horne quality that fits perfectly with her 50s retro schtick. I think Mary Lou is overdue a comeback. Do it, Canada.

*Don't watch Prom Night 4: Deliver Us From Evil. Despite having a cool title and the potentially lulzy idea of a priest being the killer, it's just boring bad, not funny bad.

This is now a lyrics site.

Greetings fine readers. Since this blogue started in 1973, we've seen massive success on a global scale. However, I feel it's now time to move on and to that end I'm transforming this into a lyrics database with user-submitted content. To get the ball rolling, here's Gloria Gaynor's 1893 hit, "I Will Survive":

At first I was afraid

I was petrified

Kept thinking I could never live

Without you by my side

But then I spent so many nights

Just thinking how you did me wrong

And I grew strong

And I learned how to get along

And now you're back

From outer space

I just walked in to find you here

With that sad look upon your face

I should have changed that stupid lock

I should have made you leave your key

If I had known for just one second

You'd be back to bother me

Go on now go, walk out the door

Just turn around now

Cause you're not welcome anymore

Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?

Did you think I'd crumble

Did you think I'd lay down and die

Oh no, not I

I will survive

Oh I can paint my house without you

And I know I'll stay alive

I've got all my life to live

I've got all my love to give

and I'll survive

I will survive

Hey-hey

It took all the strength I had

Just to paint this room

I painted over the mirror

And I fell and broke my broom

And I spent oh so many nights

Trying to contact my dead uncle

I used to cry

But now I go spelunking

And you see me

Down in a cave

I'm not that chained up midget and I'm

Going to that rave

And now I've got a rare disease

But it doesn't bother me

And now I'm taking laxatives

Via suppository

Go on now go, walk out the door

Just turn around now

Cause you're not welcome anymore

This intervention isn't going very well

You can take mom and dad

And tell them both to go to hell

I'm staying here

And sniffing glue

Oh as long as I've still got a nose

That's what I want to do

I'm not going back to school

I'm not going to the pool

And I'll survive

I will survive

[Fade out]

Let me know if you have any corrections!!! I'm pretty sure I got them all!!!

Movie Who Cares Presents: The IntruderÜø¿×É»Ö{ê─×¢¥┐└┴♠◙♂•◘♣♦♥♫3☼

The Intruder is a movie about everybody dying in a supermarket. Despite this, it is slightly more good than depressing.

I may be a grave robber, but at least I don't work here.

The movie starts out documenting the shenanigans of the aforementioned store's employees. It's night, and the last few shoppers are going home. We get some nice POVs from their trolleys, which might make you wonder: why? and huh? 

You'll never live like common people. You'll never do whatever common people do.

Then an old man tries to buy some shit, but everything falls out the bottom of his paper bag, which is a metaphor for life.

Aw, darnit! First World War 1 and now this.

Sadly, the plot then kicks in, as our heroine is menaced by a mullet, and her ex boyfriend, who is wearing it:

Ladies, take heart: if you were born after 1972, you didn't date this guy.

The mullet gets in a big fight with everyone, and runs off into the store, instigating a sequence in which the staff try to hunt him down, Alien-style, which is reasonable when dealing with the pathologically bemulletted. This would be enough plot for the rest of the movie, but we're not so lucky.

Die Hard with a Mullet.

This isn't a very good movie, but it has a very unique and interesting visual style, which involves putting the camera inside things where a camera doesn't normally go. For example, here is a POV shot from inside a rotary phone:

Whose POV is it? Do the phones have gremlins? Sadly, this line of inquiry is never developed, like most of the characters.

Why is this shot framed like this? Are we looking at a mirror? Why? I picture the director jabbing his crazy fingers at the cast and yelling "dammit they're too up-and-down! Make them more sideways!", not because that's necessarily what happened, but because I'd like to think it is.

Say, do you think someone's going to get that through their face?

So anyway, long story short, someone starts butchering the cast. Is it the mullet? The store owner? Ted Raimi? Godzilla? Barbie? Does it matter? As befits these type of movies, the killer's motivation, when revealed, makes absolutely fuck-all sense, but the actor gives one of the gurningest, most gleefully batshit insane performances ever seen outside my special ed class.

The main thing about this movie is the way the supermarket location is used. People go up and down the meat conveyor, the killer chases the final girl over the tops of the checkout counters, and they all play bumper cars in the trolleys (well, not really, but they might as well have). The slasher plot is kind of extraneous to the enjoyment of the movie, which centres on the fun of watching people get to wreak havoc in a supermarket. Just like in Dawn of the Dead and the greatest movie of all time: Career Opportunities. It was while writing this review that I decided all I really want in life is to trash a supermarket.

Get out while you can, Final Girl!!!

Body positivity: a srs movement for srs times.

Today I'd like to taek a minute of your time to talk about a very important aspect of modern faith called "body positivity". If you are like me (likely), you got this wrong, so here are some tips for you on things to avoid:

Apparently this is doing it wrong. Although intuitive, this expression of positivity toward a body is frowned upon among the body positivity community. It's important to be warned of this before you go digging up corpses to post to body positivity forums. Or not, whatever.

Bodies of work are also a no-no, as they would require reading to appreciate. NOT EVERYONE CAN READ, SHIT LORD.

Remember Jessica Biel (2003)? That was cool.

Apparently this is also doing it wrong. My mistake here was to be positive about someone's body that isn't hugely fat like Jabba the Hutt. Some people argue that this movement is as stupid as pro-ana (trolling kids by telling them to be anorexic), as it also causes the impressionable to recklessly damage their health while acting smug about it (at least, as smug as a great big giant fat blob can act). These people are wrong, for reasons noone understands, but everybody takes for granted.

Show your support for body positivity in the comments!!!

Everyone is stupid re Jeremy Clarkson.

As you know, I can't watch Top Gear anymore because the BBC threw all its toys out of its pram again. TV presenter Jeremy Clarkson has been "suspended" from the corporation for punching a guy and maybe saying naughty words again, unless he didn't. Every few weeks there's a story about Jeremy Clarkson going full retard, and every time it's about 20% true and 100% stupid. I've heard intelligent people seriously say that Jeremy Clarkson should be sacked, but one person who doesn't think so is the fucking producer he allegedly "punched", who retweeted the petition to reinstate him.

Oops.

The reason I'm busting out the "allegedly" is that all the stories about Jeremy Clarkson are systematically inflated and exaggerated because the news media want us all to think he's controversial, which he isn't. Only retards who read the Guardian and cycle (preferably at the same time) spaz out about Jeremy Clarkson. That's because the rest of us are grownups. Hey, remember when he said that people should be shot in front of their families? Except that it later turned out he was being sarcastic and making the opposite point.

Oops.

Jeremy Clarkson isn't controversial to real people, because we have real problems and things to worry about. Given that the petition to reinstate him is the fastest-growing ever in Change.org's history, it would seem that most people are more fed up with the BBC's histrionic bullshit than with Jeremy Clarkson, and for as long as we're paying the license fee, the BBC can shut the fuck up and do what we say. Maybe this wouldn't be such a pressing issue if the BBC had anything else worth watching.

Have a bastardly St Patrick's Day!

St Patrick's Day is by far the most important day of the year after Rare Disease Day and Houseplant Appreciation Day. It's the day when everyone celebrates the Patron Saint of Irishness, St Patrick O'McKilFitz. But do you know the real story behind the legend? I assume not, even though I don't know you.

St Patrick invented Ireland in around the 12th Century BC, on a dare. Another version of the story holds that he was tasked to invent it in order to populate Boston, Massachusetts, which is in the United States. Once a year, on St Patrick's Day, St Patrick flies around the world dispensing gifts made by his workshop full of leprechauns. Leprechauns make better gifts than elves, because they're magic. Every leprechaun is swag as fuck, because they all have a pot of gold that they keep at the end of their rainbows. This means they are well financed and can make dank memes for all the happy children.

Some historians contend that St Patrick was himself invented by the Irish, thus creating an infinite loop like in a time travel movie (all of them). This is true, because the Irish are not bound by the laws of the material world (Finnegan's Wake). What is known is that the Irish have the best luck in the world. This is because their history is one long, unbroken stretch of famine and Britbong oppression. Legend foretells that one day they will unleash the luck of the Irish, conquer the world, ushering in a new era of peace and enlightenment, and finally transcend into beings of pure energy.

How to speak Irish: a beginner's guide

1. Always greet Irish people with the phrase "how's your crack?" This is something all Irish people say to one another. It will get you loved.
2. Colm Ó Cíosóig: is the drummer from My Bloody Valentine. This is an excellent primer in Irish pronunciation: his name is pronounced "Charlie Bob". Note the accents on the "o"s.
3. Irish people do not say "top o' the morning". They used to, but now this is seen as a sure sign of a poser. The real Irish now say "Y'AI 'NG'NGAH, YOG-SOTHOTH H'EE-L'GEB F'AI THRODOG UAAAH".

If you follow these simple steps, you will be welcomed with open arms. Happy St Patrick's Day!!!

Log lines for your consideration

Here are fourteen log lines for your consideration.

1. A lazy rabbit discovers the meaning of love when disco comes to his warren.
2. A gay truck driver discovers the meaning of hope when he picks up a hitchhiker with Parkinson's disease.
3. An obese ice sculptor discovers the meaning of ennui when she wakes up in an abandoned hospital.
4. An alcoholic body builder discovers the meaning of confusion when her country is invaded by the Huns.
5. A one-legged frog discovers the meaning of reconciliation when he rescues the President of France from his swamp.
6. An insomniac paralympian discovers the meaning of Doritos when he sells out for an endorsement deal.
7. A tall midget discovers the meaning of identity when passing for a regular-sized person gets him taken hostage during a bank heist.
8. A pair of Lebanese Siamese twins discover the meaning of family when an anvil falls on one of them at a construction site.
9. An unrepentant model discovers the meaning of trolling when she argues with creationists until four in the morning.
10. A homicidal waitress discovers the meaning of service with a smile when she receives a large tip from a blind pig farmer.
11. A third-world dictator discovers the meaning of Christmas when she stops passing for gay but everyone accepts her anyway.
12. A misanthropic tuna fish discovers the meaning of life when Jesus goes for a swim.
13. A sergeant major in the Lithuanian army discovers the meaning of growing up when it's revealed his parents used to molest the mailman.
14. A hedonistic fire eater discovers the meaning of "quixotic" during an encounter with an anthropomorphic dictionary.

Did you like my log lines??? Feel free to use them, but you have to credit me if when you win all kinds of awards.

Thank God It's Friday The 13th: Prophets of Doom!!!

Friday the 13th isn't just a special day for Jason. It's also a day when prophets of doom bemoan his coming. Contrary to popular belief, you can't just slap a goalie mask on someone and film him stalking through the woods and call it a day. A much neglected staple of the Friday The 13th magic is the prophet of doom character archetype, invariably a staring bug-eyed crazypants loon who warns our hapless camp counsellors to stay away from Camp Blood. I'm going to be making the case that these are integral to the series' success, because they appear in two of the best films (1 and 2), and the most hilarious (8). This contains spoilers for the all the Friday The 13th movies, such as the fact that Camp Crystal Lake is jinxed.

Crazy Ralph!!!

"You're doomed! You're all doomed! It's got a death curse!" - Ralph, ad nauseum.

Oddly enough, he talks the most sense out of anyone in the whole series.

Crazy Ralph is the best character ever in movies. He is a "Messenger of God" who spends his days when he's not locked up as the town drunk trying to warn teenagers not to go to Camp Blood, which they always do. He shows up randomly in a closet or something in the camp, where he may or may not have been waiting for hours to be discovered just so he could dramatically proclaim everyone doomed (again). When everyone reacts the way you'd expect them to, he gets on his bike and cycles off, turning to stare at them as he goes. Ralph was one of only two characters to survive the original movie, only to get snuffed in Part 2.

Crazy Ralph is the best character ever. He makes me happy when I watch the movies, which is often, for I am a child. What I like best about Crazy Ralph is the resigned way everyone in the town deals with him. It's easy to imagine daily life in Crystal Lake as a sitcom where Crazy Ralph is always getting in some mischief with his crazy ways. Ralph gave that little something special to the series, and it never quite recovered from the loss of him.

Eyeball Guy!!!

"I found this today!" - Eyeball Guy

Eyeball sold separately.

Transparently brought in for Part 3 to replace the late C. Ralph, Eyeball Guy steps up the madness by first sleeping in the road, and when woken enquiring if he's in Heaven. He's probably also a Messenger of God, Whom he believes has revealed His purpose to him in the form of an eyeball he "found" - although he also lets slip there were other body parts, so I guess he probably just dug it out of one of Jason's earlier victims, or perhaps a corpse he dug up. Sadly, unlike Ralph, Eyeball Guy never got to reprise his role, which means he's probably still hanging around Crystal Lake waving dismembered body parts in people's faces to warn them from going to the lake. To be fair to him, this would totally convince me to get out of Dodge, so who knows? Maybe he's saved thousands of lives offscreen.

This guy!!!

"This voyage is doomed!" - This guy.
"Yeah, tell me about it" - some kid, in re: the above.

As he is gainfully employed, this character is a prime example of doing it wrong.

Jason Takes Manhattan half-assedly revived the grand tradition of the harbingers of doom after an absence of four movies. This time our Discount Cassandra is a deckhand on the good ship Lazarus, which carries Jason all the way to New York (Toronto).

Despite seemingly knowing Jason is onboard and killing everyone, this guy doesn't really tell anyone or do anything to stop it. He does, however, barge into the cabin after the captain gets whacked, tells the douche professor that it's Jason, and when called on his craziness, declares "you're the one who's insane", and runs off. He delivers it precisely as a "NO U", which makes me spit out my drink. This guy is so half-assed I think they threw him in at the last minute just to pad the film a little.

Which is your favourite prophet of doom???? Why would anyone stay at a place called Camp Blood anyway??????? Friday the 13th!!!!!!!!

Bastard role models: Dave Wyndorf

You're looking for the one who fucked your mom? It's not him.

Dave Wyndorf is the guy from Monster Magnet. Monster Magnet is so rad. Dave Wyndorf can wear sunglasses all the time, even though he's from New Jersey. Dave Wyndorf reminds us of a better time (the 90s), when everyone looked like The Dude and no one gave a shit. Dave Wyndorf shares a habit of taking his cues from Marvel Comics characters with fellow bastard role model Dr Octagon. He coined the phrase "what would MODOK do?" (WWMODOKD), and really, this is a very good question. Remember when comics didn't suck (the 60s)? Me neither. Not because I'm not that old, but because I got Alzheimer's.

Monster Magnet videos were also very good. They looked like music videos back in the days when rock bands could afford to make real videos, instead of standing in a warehouse or a hipster bar in ironic suits. Monster Magnet rules a bit.

Dave Wyndorf is my role model because he doesn't afraid of anything. He likes to write about drugs, not going in to work ("Powertrip"), and being based as shit: "I cut off my own head/I don't need it where I'm going". Like everything in the 80s was repurposed from the 50s, so everything in the 90s was repurposed from the 70s, and Monster Magnet is no exception, because it's Sabbath plus Hawkwind plus a bunch of trippy-ass Marvel retro cosmic superwank. Dave Wyndorf's lyrics capture a very specific type of person: the indolent intellectual who crashes planets into one another while he lies on the floor in a bedroom full of Heavy Metal magazine posters, weed paraphernalia, and UFOs. I'm sure everyone in the 70s and 90s was like this, and it was awesome.

Movie Prom Night Presents: Prom Night II: Hello Mary Lou.

Instead of the sequel to Prom Night its title might presumptively imply, Hello Mary Lou is a terrible, low budget Carrie ripoff starring Michael Ironside of Starship Troopers fame. What it lacks in...everything, it makes up for in batfuck insanity.

In 1957, Mary Lou Maloney is accidentally burned to death when a stink bomb sets her on fire at prom. Flash forward to...the 80s (like I can be bothered to remember the year), and the guy responsible is now the principal, which means the local police force must have attributed Mary Lou's death to spontaneous combustion. Being a cop: like having a job, but without doing any work, ever.

"The potato: nature's perfect vegetable" - this weird fuck.

So now Vicki, a shy girl from a crazy-religious family, is on the shortlist for prom queen, alongside bitchy Kelly. Her mother won't let her buy a new dress because of the Devil, or something, so she goes looking in the school's storage rooms. Here she finds an old trunk that, once opened, releases the vengeful spirit of Mary Lou. Why? What does the trunk have to do with Mary Lou? Did the principal know it would have this effect? If so, why did he leave the trunk at the school, where anyone could open it? If you asked any of these questions, you care way more about this script than the writer.

In the 80s, dressing like a pirate at school was considered normal.

So anyways, Mary Lou proceeds to whack this chick with the huge afro and fashion style I can't even begin to place at any point in history. Why? See above answer. She then possesses Vicki, who shows her transformation by listening to 50s rock and roll music and saying Mary Lou's catchphrase, "see you later, alligator". For reasons unclear to science, her friends take this as evidence of her absolute evil, prompting one of the finest kills in movie history.

First, the possessed Vicki gets into the shower, naked, with her friend Monica. Unlike listening to a 50s song once, this behaviour doesn't seem to ring any alarm bells. Only when Vicki starts kissing her does Monica freak the fuck out and go to hide in a locker. Now your typical slasher would go through each locker individually, in an effort to build suspense. But Mary Lou don't got time for that. Instead, she crushes the lockers in on themselves, pulping Monica*.

The lesson is, always lez out.

Though this is by far the high point of the movie, it's not even nearly the most randomly bizarre. That honour has to go to the creepy-ass rocking horse in Vicki's room. For really no reason at all, its eyes start glowing and it grows a tongue. Which Mary Lou Vicki later starts to play with. Now it's been established that Mary Lou doesn't distinguish her perpetual hard-on between boys and girls alike, but are we to believe she's into horses too?

It's a real nightMARE. 4 srs tho.

Another gem is when the priest delivers this garbled nonsense at a funeral:

"And let the violence of her passing remind us of the dangers of the violence we see so much of everyday, in our streets and on our televisions, and movies."

This is such an inappropriate and inexplicable thing to say to, presumably, someone's surviving loved ones that it makes me kek till I cry. This movie isn't a comedy, but it should be.

There's basically no point watching after the locker death, because the whole third act is just Carrie, but worse. Still, if you're offered the choice of watching this or, say, getting your tongue tasered, it's probably the better option.

*Pulping Monica is my new band name.

Nothing is good anymore.

I was looking over trailers for upcoming movies recently, and I realised that an important strain or permutation of the filmic form has died: the good ones. I don't want to see anything that's coming out this year. Looking at everything else there is to do, I noticed the same trend: there are no comics I want to read, no paintings I want to look at, and no games I can afford (because I am a hobo).

I need the hype machine to tell me which show is the next Breaking Bad, and even then I won't watch it until it has enough episodes for me to binge. I've given serious thought to leaving my house and taking a walk in the park or something.

I think the reason everything sucks now is that everything is so politicised and fashion-conscious, and is greenlit by coked-up psychopaths who won't take risks because if they don't make enough profit they won't be able to buy a third helicopter, and then they'd have to make do with two.

It's possible that everything good has already been made, in which case all we need to do is mine the good stuff out of the past, until someone gets a new idea, if possible. That would make me so happy I'd blink.