I’m Too Sexy For This Blog

Psychologist Linda Papadopoulos is on a mission. A mission to clean up the newagents one mag at a time. Dr Papadopoulos has appeared this week on TV and the press campaining for magazines such as Nuts and Zoo to be on the top shelf alongside other ‘pornographic’ material. She argues:

“It is a drip, drip effect. Look at porn stars, and look how an average girl now looks.”

She has point. We can’t move for the Jenna Jameson look-a-likes around our way.

Okay, straight off the bat I’m being cynical. I promised myself I wouldn’t be as I understand some of her arguements concerning the aforementioned magazines. Commonly known as ‘cowards porn’ by some of my friends.

Now, I’m not saying I haven’t ever  read one of these magazines nor do I want to put across the idea that I’m sort of prude. However, I do struggle with the concept that that these mags are more acceptable to read in public than Razzle or Reader’s Wives because it hides behind the blanket statement of ‘it’s just cheeky postcard humour’. Nuts is presently going with ‘The Big Boob issue’ boasting pages of… well, boobs. Boobs and horrendous football accidents. Interestingly enough Playboy this month is also going with big boobs. A theme it’s been going with some 50 years. I can read one safely on the bus with maybe the odd ‘tsk’ and the other will get me lynched in the street. It’s all a bit odd.

So, when someone else steps up to the plate and declares that she’s confused as to what the difference is than I think ‘fair enough! I’m a bloke and even I’m confused’. However, where she lets herself down is the some of the other comments she’s made to promote the tome that is her 130 page report to the Home Office. In a recent  telephone interview, she commented that ‘you can get [these kind of magazines] next to Spongebob Squarepants’. No, Linda, you can’t. I’ve never been in WH Smith or my local Spar and overheard:

‘Daddy, can I have a magazine?’

‘Okay, but only one’

‘Can I have this? Kitty Lea says she’ll teach me how to bed any woman I want!’

‘Okay then and on the way home we’ll get ice cream!’

‘Yay!’

It’s never happened Linda, and if you did see this in your local newsagent then that’s the fault of the newsagent rather than the magazines. Hopefully you pointed this out to the owner to ensure they didn’t make the mistake again. Just playing Devil’s advocate, Linda.

She is also outraged at the advertising of jobs such as pole dancers in the Job Centre, arguing that they might be seen as a ‘viable career choice’. Okay, Linda, I’m going to have to stop you there again. Making disparaging comments about someone’s career, regardless of what it maybe, is a bit low. The funny thing is that as well as bored housewives, a number of lap dancers, pole dancers and strippers are college students who are trying to make enough money to get themselves through their studies to allow them to become doctors, lawyers and, oh, psychologists. Take for example Dr Brooke Magnanti aka Belle Du Jour, who worked as an escort to fund her studies and is now a child health researcher at Bristol University. Yes, it’s an extreme example, Linda, but I just wanted to show that people sometimes choose non-viable career paths for reasons more than being bullied into it by an overly-sexualised society.

‘Taboos have been pushed back so far. They are taking their script directly from pornography.’

Really Linda? Are you sure? Because if that’s the case than we genuinely are screwed. I have a fear of dogs, but oh so greater is my fear that I wake up in a world populated by handle bar moustached men knocking on my door offering to service my girlfriend’s boiler.

Dr Papadopolous’s campaign is not a bad one, but if she wants to be taken seriously, she is going wind her neck and stop with the media friendly sound bites. It warps her goals and sets her up for mocking and knee jerk reactions. Oh much like this article.

The more I think it, the more I think that we don’t need to go to all this trouble of censoring magazines and looking down on people for their career choices. Let’s just kick Queen Oompa Loompa herself, Katie Price, out of the country. A woman who has made a career out of titillation but masks it around children’s books and magazine deals. Surely me and Linda can agree on that.

Fan Culture Will Hate Itself: Death to the Creator

Not as bad as everyone is making out...

Fan culture is a tiresome affair sometimes. I mean that genuinely. Reading the latest batch of rumours to come through the Doctor Who filter, the same thing comes up time and time again. Someone declares their misguided idea as fact and decries Russell T Davies et al for being nothing more than idiots for not following suit. More commonly, a writer will try something new and the same ‘fan’ will try to claim that they could have handled it better then anyone at the BBC ever could.

Whilst a well meaning maniac is part and parcel of the whole sordid sci-fi affair, its grating to read these ‘fans’ claim to know more about the show than the actual creators. As if somehow sitting in your bedroom watching endless box sets and eating turkey twizzlers gives you a green card to being a show runner.

Look at Matt Smith. The forgotten Beatle has yet to have an episode air and some members of the Doctor Who community are crying for him to lynched from his spot and replaced with someone ‘old and dark’.

The reason why I bring this bile up is that I’ve just recently finished ‘And Another Thing…’ by Eoin Colfer, the sixth part of the Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. A lot of fans have been very upset about the idea of someone other than Douglas Adams writing about the adventures of Arthur Dent. This, to me, seems  a bit unfair to Eoin and a bit generous to Douglas. Let’s be honest, So Long and Thanks for All the Fish was awful and Mostly Harmless wasn’t far off from being next to suicidal. Even Douglas Adams admitted that he could have written them better. When talking about the ending of Mostly Harmless, he’s quoted as saying:

People have said, quite rightly, that Mostly Harmless is a very bleak book. And it was a bleak book. I would love to finish Hitchhiker on a slightly more upbeat note.

But, no, there are those supposed fans who feel the need to talk for all of us. They hated the book and, in the case of one particular blogger, started a hate campaign before they had even read it.

For me, whilst some of the language was a tad cruder than expected, it was enlightening to see that Zaphod Beeblbrox had one head. This was something that happened in the movie too. Sam Rockwell played the Big Zee as mono-cranium. Oh, how the fans cried out! What was happening here! Why would someone do this! Where was this one you called God now!

The movie makers tried their best to deflect the blows and point out that most the script was taken from ideas by the big DA himself. And yet the ‘fans’ cried foul and took their ball home refusing to play.

Now, here, in this new book, Zaphod has one head and, once again, the ‘fans’ are upset and the publishers etc are telling them that the ideas are form Douglas’s notes.

To be honest, I like my Zaphod to have two heads but when two different types of media crop up both claiming to be based on the scribblings of the original author, I’m happy to put my hand up and say ‘fair enough’ and ‘why not?’. Is it that difficult for some ‘fans’ to think that the original creator of the show might have a better idea of what direction he wants his creations to go in than, say, the spotty goit forever furrowing his brow and banging his fists against a keyboard in sheer blind anger because the Doctor isn’t dark enough.

No doubt when David Tennant hangs up his converse at the beginning of next year, there will be a division of opinion and, in some cases, even a sigh of relief. However, amongst the chatter of like minded fans, there will be that lone beacon of pouting, sulking  and megalomania and when that voice rises, we must be to do the only grown up and sensible thing we can do. We must stick our fingers in our ears and go la la la. And if that’s not grown up, we could teach them how to put their anger to better use.

It’s Spelt Ianto not Janto Parte the Third: Idiot Box gets to number one… Sorta

When I’m incredibly bored or my eyes have melted from playing too much Blue Dragon, I tend to go onto My Dashboard via wordpress and see all the lovely stats and charts. At present, it’s a bit naff (SHAMELESS PLUG: Tell people about this site, get them to subscribe. There will be more articles soon. I just need to get back into the flow. Honestly, it’ll be like peer pressure for me). Anyway, in particular, I like to look at the search terms people have used on Google which, in turn, have brought up my site. Aside from a rather disturbing trend in searches for forceful and non-consensual sex between the Master and Ianto (!?), I noticed that a couple of people have begun to look for ‘rants against Janto/Ianto fans’, and guess what? I’m at number one on the search engine. Oh it makes my little heart swell with pride. Type it in, you’ll see.

To be honest, I’m wasn’t really ranting at Ianto fans. My concern/target were the small minority who speak on behalf of the larger less threatning fans. Still, the purpose of this post is to ask those of you who have stumbled here via a search for rants, please don’t run off. Have a read and let me know what you think. I’ve been led to believe that I may have been a bit nasty.

As for those looking for the weird stuff… This is about as slashy as I’m going… Go look elsewhere.

Taylor Momsen: Angel or Arse?

I’ve never watched Gossip Girl. I saw the ad campaigns for the second season whilst in New York last year and thought

Rebel, rebel...

‘nah’. So, it was a surprise to myself that I was drawn to this article about one of its stars, Taylor Momsen. A young ‘un who comes across as a 16 year old Courtney Love wannabe. Though quite why anyone would model themselves on that virus in lipstick is beyond me. But there she is, stinking of Ajax and promoting her new band, the Pretty Reckless. During an interview with Teen Vogue, Ms Momsen made several comments about having nothing in common with teenagers due to everything they say and think being ‘petty’. Apparently, she found high school ‘kind of boring’ and when it came to school mates the Peaches Geldof-lite waif said ‘I just can’t relate to what they talk about’.

I already felt sorry for her when I saw her face, but as I read her interview I began to understand her more and realised that she was a dove among the pigeons. She’s right; she has absolutely nothing in common with the average teenager. Let’s look at some of the examples:

I’ve always been like that. People misinterpret what I say all the time: They think I’m being offensive, when really, I’m only being opinionated.

Opinionated young woman who no one understands. Well, already I can see why she has nothing in common with her peers. It must be hard to watch them go about their lives safe in the knowledge that everyone thinks exactly the same as them.

I found (high school) kind of boring.

Oh these fools who enjoy high school to the point that they get something out of it like an education! If only they shared the same thoughts and ideas as Taylor Momsen. Then they too could throw down the shackles of academic oppression.

I’m an artist; I’m not going to use trigonometry.

See, this is the rock rebellion coming through now. How lonely Taylor must have felt sat in Trigonometry class looking at her classmates and having that one thought her friends would never had. She had no time for maths. Maths was for losers. Good for her for realising this sooner rather than later. God knows what could have happened.

Here’s who I am, either you like it or you don’t.

Individuality. As I type, teenagers up and down the country are probably reeling at this concept. The very idea that someone could like you whilst another couldn’t has probably altered a lot of people’s perspectives about Taylor. Probably to the point where some people like her whilst the rest, um, don’t.

My parents know that I’m not going to date someone who’s sixteen. Boys are so much less mature than girls as it is; there’s just no way— I would eat a boy my age alive.

Fucking A. Why should Taylor stoop so low as dating someone of her age group when there are loads of dreamy older men who appreciate the value of jail bait.

I have such trust complexes.

All these teenagers who are comfortable in their own skins weep now for TM who simply can’t allow anyone to get close to her. I am literally weeping so hard I can barely see the screen.

Ok, so I can’t keep this pretence up. I think my sarcasm couldn’t be more obvious even if it painted its bottom blue.

The saddest part about this whole interview is that Taylor is so far up her own inflated ego that she has literally has no idea that she has so much in common with the average teenager. For God’s sake, she’s even in a garage band! I bet she even watches The Wiggles, but, you know, ironically.

I think what makes me slightly angry is that by her spouting this utter bile and smearing across the pages of Teen Vogue, it’s going to be picked up by some vulnerable teenager who doesn’t have an acting career or a pop band to fall back onto. So, when little Sally jacks in school she’s going to pleasantly surprised that a distinct change in wardrobe and deliberately looking like an aged bleached handbag is not going to stop you from serving me burgers.

So, if there is anyone reading this who feel Taylor Momsen is grand role model, just keep repeating this one phrase over and over, ‘Do you want fries with that?’.

Big Brother House, this is Davina. Please do not say F*ck or B*gger.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It’s a regular occurrence really. I can’t stop it. Every summer it’s the same thing. I promise myself. Assure myself that this year will be different. This year will be the year I don’t watch Big Brother, but it never happens. And I’ll be honest with you, to paraphrase Chris Rock, I love Big Brother, tired of defending it.

Before I continue, I feel like I need to justify this rant. I mean, I made a private promise that I wouldn’t write about Big Brother, but after this Friday’s abysmal attempt to obtain ratings, the nerd rage flew through my veins like heroin and I couldn’t resist. I justify this blog further by saying one of my favourite writers, Charlie Brooker, is not avert to writing about Big Brother and if it’s okay for the great white Laurence Fishbourne, it’s right by me.

So, yeah, Big Brother. My love for it started round about the second series. In hindsight, it’s easy to say what appealed to me. It had baddies, it had goodies, it had laughs and it had blinking. You could talk to anyone on the street and they would happily give their opinions about Helen and Paul. Yes, there were the detractors but, if the channel had existed at the time, we would gladly have told them to fornicate off to BBC 4.

Something went wrong though. Channel 4 twigged that people liked this series and so tried, and is still trying, to emulate it. Look through any of the next 8 series and you’ll find a checklist of stereotypes:

• The busty blonde
• The dim one
• The black one
• The gay one
• The academic
• The jack the lad
• And so on.

It became obvious which each series that the increasingly media savvy housemates were falling to type. Sometimes even mimicking the catchphrases and attitudes of those before them. Witness Charlie in BB 8 who insisted on acting like Nikki from series 7, right down to the ‘WHO IS SHE?!!!’ speech that set ear drums bleeding across the country. Like the Narrator’s life in Fight Club, everything became a copy of a copy of a copy. Whilst the housemates emulated all the characteristics of Big Brother 2’s housemates, they were not the real thing. Like Tesco Value cola if you will. More recently in BB10, Sophie/Dogface has tried to emulate the success of Jade Goody’s stupidity by shitting out phrases like a machine gun aimed at putting her across as sweet but dumb.

Exhibit A: ‘New Zealand? That’s where Chinese people come from, right?’. No one is that dumb. No one will ever be that

dumb, but because of Helen’s comments about loving blinking and Jade with her East Angular monologue which helped them snuggle up against the nation’s collective bosom, Sophie/Dogface has felt she can get some mileage out of it too .

Aside from cloning housemates in a manner that would make Michel Bay’s The Island take a step back, the main reason why Big Brother is getting a bit wank is because somewhere along the line the producers decided that normal, nice people wasn’t good enough. Why have people interacting normally when you can you stir things up with poor side/rich side, fake housemates, housemates from African Big Brother, housemate’s partners and a different nominations format?

In the first two series of Big Brother it was hard to find someone who would nominate anyone for anything more than them not saying good morning, but then the producers entered a new rule into the book that said if Big Brother didn’t feel your nominations were good enough, you would instantly be up nomination yourself. The next thing you know, the housemates stopped interacting and began weighing each other up. Friendships were only formed if they were beneficial. Get enough people together in your group and you have your say over who goes up for nominations. Big Brother stopped being a social experiment and became a yearly Lord of the Flies.

Along with this new aggression came a new vocabulary from the housemates. If you’ve never seen an episode of BB or find that you get lost in conversations, let Uncle Noonan run you through some of the main phrases you need to know.

Backstabbing: A verb originating from the 1920s meaning to attempt to discredit (a person) by underhanded means, as innuendo, accusation, or the like. An idea that was used in WW2 by Hitler as the reason why the Germans lost WW1 because, as he saw, the Jews were backstabbed the German army. With this history in mind, it’s easy to see how backstabbing in Big Brother has now come to mean ‘he/she who dares to nominate me even though I gave them a fag last week and told them that their hair looks nice.’

Playing the game: Playing the game use to mean being honest and fair. Playing the game now means to enter the Big Brother house and then, um, well, that’s it really. My linguistic study of the housemates’ vernacular doesn’t really come up with a definitive answer to what they are harping on about. Going from the amount of times it’s been used the last two series; I’ve come to understand that playing the game means:

• Being nice
• Talking to others
• Being open and honest with those around you and sharing any opinions you may have about them to their face

Tell it like it is/Keeping it real: These two phrases are the opposite of playing the game and is an accolade held in high esteem by many a housemate including this year’s Lisa. Telling it like it is to:

• Talk behind someone’s back
• Be racist, homophobic etc
• Be friendly with someone and then mock them when everyone else does.
• Be vindictive
• Be loud
• Be aggresive

I’ve yet to find any evidence but I think in Big Brother black means white and white means black.

And before you say anything, no, I can’t discuss this with my fellow fans. That community of shared and learned discourse has long since died with the Jedis. Big Brother fans are slowly becoming more and more like the housemates they discuss. To not like the same housemate as your fellow fan is to say you like Gary Glitter. If a housemate shows an ounce of intelligence they are instantly branded as playing the game (see above) and calls for their eviction echoes through the valley. Should the housemate be mean spirited, manipulative and emulating one of the previous housemates of years past, they are immediately seen as keeping it real and providing ideal entertainment. When Rachel Rice won last year, there were cries of ‘Fix!’ as some fans just couldn’t handle the fact that someone relatively normal and nice had won. Fans wanted housemates like Bex to win. A troglodyte cow woman who spent the better part of her time in the Big Brother house smoking, fighting and setting up a showmance with Luke. The worse part of her time in the house was spent being naked. Most of that time I was trying to force my eyeballs out with a biro.

Maybe I’ve grown up a bit and there’s a deep-seated part of me that ‘s realised that it’s all a load of toss or maybe I’m just no longer the producer’s target audience now that they favour chavtastic WKD drinkers. Either way, I think I’m going to have start a new sin next summer. Kitten drowning maybe…. Oh who am I kidding? I’ll be here this time next year.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners.