Saturday, 5 January 2008

It's over, punk

Okay, I am (sort of) discontinuing this, as I am starting a new blog which is more firmly attacked to my journalism-y stuff, and which shall be devoid of emo whining.

Find my latest crime against nature at

Avid readers will notice that I will occasionally steal stuff what I already wrote off of here and post it in my new b log. Shhh, though. It'll be out little secret.

Oh, and i may return here occasionally to be whiny and emo, in contravention of my new year's resolution.

Monday, 3 December 2007

In which Jon criticises yet another work written by somebody evidently better than him

On this occasion, I have chosen to mock Yeats' seminal work 'The Second Coming'. I shall do so mainly by taking it litterally.

Seminal, like semen.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Then shout louder.

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Shoddy design.

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

Insufficient respect for anarchy

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

The worst are always full of passionate intensity. that is what makes them so very shit.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

Yes, surely. You, alone, of all of the billions of people who have always, throughout time, thought the world was about to end, are right. How very prescient of you. And now, a meagre century later, you have been proven so very right, haven't you? Twunt.

The Second Coming!
Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,


A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

Fucking livid they were.

The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Not confined by your own historical context are we, Yeats? 'Sleeping' is definitely what the world did for two millennia after Jesus . Buy a fucking history book.

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Look, what with it's body of a lizard and head of a man, and our knowledge of it's general direction of travel, this beast seems rather easy to identify and stop. Particularly as it's method of ambulation is 'slouching' one of the less graceful and efficient forms of movement. Quit whining and fucking sort it you pretentious twat.

That's it. sorry.

Sunday, 2 December 2007

It's that time of year again

No, nopt fucking Christmas. Thats weeks away. It is instead the time of year when all of my pissfucking essays get piled into a 3 day period. And I am sorely demotivated about them.

I can't be bothered to rant right now, so just slap yourselves sharply once in the face to create broadly the same effect.


Lots of love,

Saturday, 24 November 2007

Originally a facebook note

I know these days it is deeply untrendy to say anything positive about google but, hey, I am deeeply untrendy. I'm so untrendy I use the word 'trendy' to denote things which are cool, hip, with it or fashionable. Anyway, I have recently decided that, however shit they may be at being ethical, Google's search engine can answer almost any question or find anything you want. It recently found for me inspiration and the secret of true happiness (read previous note). Tody I asked it some questions...

First, I wanted to know if things are getting better or worse. So i typed in "things are getting better" and then "things are getting worse" into google. 'Better' won by 396,000 hits to 126,000 - an astonishing three to one.

Then I simply asked google 'Will everything be alright?' It's answer? First hit: everything will be alright (by the killers). So, yes, apparently it will.

Then I asked "what should I do now?" which brought up a link for a law training course and one for how to become a teacher - incidentally the two professions I am currently considering.
Finally I asked google 'Who am I?'. Sadly the answer is 'Will Young'.

I'll also put this on my shitty blog ( because I am a vain, pretensious man.

Sunday, 11 November 2007

She shuts the window. The whore.


Edit: I'd just like to thank David Quin for this wonderfully surreal schoolboying of my blog, which will remain as a testament to the man's absurd talent and talent for the absurd.

Saturday, 10 November 2007

Romeo and Juliet were a pair of whiney emo cunts


When Shakespeare was writing Romeo and Juliet, he was not writing a tragic love story that he intended to forevermore be the benchmark for all romance. No, no, in fact he was writing about a pair of whiney emo pricks with so little perspective about life that they end up topping themselves.


1.) Romeo and Juliet are teenagers. Juliet had not seen 'The Change of Fourteen Summers'. If they were alive today, she would have an Emily Strange backpack and he would have one long black flop of hair that covered half his face (how's my zeitgeist? ludicrously out of date? I'm 23, what's your excuse?)

2.) Romeo is 'in love' with a totally different woman, Rosaline, at the start of the play. He basically admits that he loves her because she is proper fit. One might argue Shakespeare uses Rosaline as a device to create a contrast between Romeo's 'infatuation' with Ros and his 'true love' for Juliet. Oh fucking really? Then why does it take Romeo all of six seconds to fall in love with Juliet? He is practically fwapping himself off within moments of seeing her, knowing sweet fuck all about her personality.

Romeo: O, she teaches the torches to burn brightly!

She hangs upon the face of night

like a rich jewel in an Ethiopian's ear--

her beauty is too rich to be touched, too heavenly for this earth!

Okay, we get it - she's a hottie. But it's quite a leap to go from getting a semi over a girl to saying:

Did I ever love anyone before now? My eyes will swear

that I never saw real beauty until tonight.

So you've forgotten about what you were saying less than five minutes ago then? You flippant, whimsical, fly-by-night, indecisive cunt! What Rosaline, who you've just spent the last month pining over? As soon as you see another girl you fancy a bit it's like she never bloody existed! Lets face it - if you'd not had the good sense to top yourself you'd have been onto some other bird within a few weeks, leaving poor Juliet completely heartbroken! This isn't love, it's love of drama, the principle curse of the emo. Which leads me onto:

3.) Romeo knows it's going to go badly. He deliberately goes to a party that not only has he not been invited to but is being hosted by his sworn, mortal enemies. And why does he take this fucking stupid risk? Because the girl he fancies might be there. Don't get me wrong, I've gone to the Union on nights I'm going to hate so i can chat up someone I'm into, but as far as I know Joff Manning has not sworn a blood oath to kill me on sight.

Not only has Romeo decided to recklessly go to a party hosted by his mortal enemies, on his way in he says:

Romeo: I am afraid we're too early, for I am afraid

that some unpleasant events, still only destined to happen

will bitterly begin to unfold

with this party tonight and bring to an end

this hateful life of mine

So, he knew it was going tits up form the outset. But, having a fetish for drama, Romeo blithely waltzes into catastrophe, no doubt thinking about how he can post all about it on his myspace later.

4.) Having fallen in love, do Romeo and Juliet realise how fabulously lucky they are and pursue their shared desire for each calmly and carefully, safe in the knowledge that, if they get things right, they will ahve the rest of their lives to enjoy each other? No, they immediately and secretly run off and bribe a corrupt priest to marry them, so they can slip it to each other without pissing God off, all the while keeping it from their respective parents but continuing to live under their rooves. Obvious recipe for disaster. Even if they aren't emo they are definitely a pair of muppets.

5.) Romeo and Juliet don't actually enjoy each other's company. They aren't in love with each other, they are in love with the idea of being in love. The only thing they talk about is how much they love each other. Seriously, the only topics they discuss are A.) How, like, totally in love with each other they are B.) How their parents just don't understand them C.) How they should just, like, rebel and run away from those fascist adults. At least modern Emos can discuss the latest fallout boy album.

It is obvious, at several points, that as much as Juliet loves being constantly flattered by Romeo, she does occasionally get a bit bored of talking about love with him. See how she hints for him to fuck off at the end of the balcony scene:

Juliet: It's almost morning. I wish you would go now--

Translation: I want you to fuck off now. However, I realise that's not really in the spirit of things so I'll add:

but no farther than a spoiled girl's pet bird

which is allowed to hop away from her hand just a little

like a poor prisoner in his twisted chains.

Then with a silk thread, the girl pulls the bird back again,

she is so loving, and yet so jealous of his freedom.
Translation: I've got you wrapped around my little finger. This is ace.
ROMEO I would I were thy bird.
Translation: Let me be your fuckpuppet

You can almost hear the glee in her voice that she has this besotten, if occasionally tiresome, admirer puttified in her hands. Right now I don't know which of them I hate more, 'Woe is me' Romeo or 'cult of my own personality' Juliet.

6.) On the same day as the two of them get secretly married, Romeo happens to bump into Mercutio and Tybalt, who are itching to stab each other up. To be fair to the lad, he does try and stop them, but fails miserably, and Tybalt kills Mercutio. Now, the main reason for this is that instead of simply saying 'I married your sister earlier, so lets, like, be mates' Romeo only subtly hints at what's gone on, infuriating both Mercutio and Tybalt. Nothing worse than an emo with a secret.... 'Oooh, you wouldn't believe what happened the other night... oh, no, i can't possibly tell.... it's just soooo secret'. Having failed totally to stop the fight, Romeo suddenly forgets that Tybalt is basically his brother now and stabs him right up. Getting married not enough drama for one day, eh, Romeo? You silly little man.

7.) If one takes a synoptic of the play, Romeo and Juliet spend much, much, much more time whingin, gossiping, plotting, sneaking and generally over dramatising their romance than, you know, actually being together. Indeed, They don't even spend any time with each other ON THEIR FUCKING WEDDING DAY, as undoubtedly they both wanted to go and write it up on postsecrets and craigslist (how's my zeitgeist? Phone 1-800-fuckoff).

8.) Having quasi-deliberately fucked up their own lives, R & J devise a frankly ridiculous plan to spend a bit of time with each other. None of this 'I'll come up and see you for a bit, maybe stay over?'. No, no, that would be far too simple for these twattish emo sods. Their plan has to encapsulate the worst elements of The O.C., Dawson's Creek and 24 to create a foolproof plan for total disaster.

9.) They kill themselves pointlessly. The End.

QED: Romeo and Juliet were a pair of whiney emo cunts. Touch my fact.

Edit: On reflection, I am open to a charge of hypocrisy here. I have a blog (so am automatically a bit emo), tend to whine a fair bit and have on more than once done things a partly for the drama/lulz. Hypocrisy is the compliment vice pays to virtue on this occasion, which I think you'll agree is a brilliant excuse.

Also, I don't hate the idea of love. I love love. But anyone who is modelling their ideas about love and romance on R&J is in for some serious headaches. So don't, Okay? Love is both much harder and much, much better than what is described by Bill Shaks.

Tuesday, 6 November 2007


I have Rubella. This horrific-sounding illness is actually nothing more than a mild annoyance - rash, tiredness, feeling under the weather. Sadly, however, I haven't been able to leave the house for fuking days because, as long as I am contagious, I could infect pregnant mothers/unborn babies, potentially killing the latter.

I am therefore a temporary social pariah. I would be less fucked off about this if Rubella was not the third of the 'MMR' diseases that I have caught since getting the MMR jab. I can only conclude that eitherA.) My immune system is fucking shit B.) The vaccine I was given was fucking shit or C.) At some point before I got the MMR, I was given a vaccine that made me immune to other vaccines.

I'd just like to point out I think the MMR and vaccines in general are good things, and I don't think my personal experience is indicative of the norm. I do, however, have a bizarre immune system. I never catch flu - or at least haven't yet. This is despite being repeatedly exposed to the flu virus through members of my family. That's right - diseases you can't become immune to, like flu, I'm fine with, but diseases I have been officially immunised against laugh in my face and infect me.

This all correlates closely with an observation I have made: nothing in my life makes any sense. I have sprogged, married and divorced at the age of 23. I am a politics student who believes politics is pointless. I regularly attend socials for societies that are not my own. I have six arms.

Oh, and I'd like to say hello to our newest reader, Eve Ka.

Much love to my homies, etc.