Showing posts with label Michael Jackson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Jackson. Show all posts

Friday, 7 August 2009

Feedback Friday :: Paint Me A Lake and I’ll Drown In It


hours on bike :: 12
hours of Wii Fit :: 7
pictures of Jackson :: 2
photographs taken :: 106
decent photographs taken :: maybe 10
festivals attended :: 0
days remaining till return to London :: 23


A little over a week ago I found myself at the very excellent Draw Serge, where illustrator Jonathan Edwards invites artists the internet over to send in their visual interpretations of ‘louche, turtle-eyed genius’ Serge Gainsbourg. I thought this was a wonderful idea, but I didn’t really understand why Serge Gainsbourg was the inspiration. Apart from his song about ladybirds fucking, the only thing I really know him for is his hilarious harassment of a pre-crack-ravaged Whitney Houston on French TV. So, spurred on by my gargantuan ignorance, I thought I’d like to do something similar but with a subject I could more readily relate to. Ideally it would be someone renowned for their many different looks. Hmmm. I thought for a while. Then it hit me. Ow!

And so Draw Jackson was born.

Not being an artist myself, I turned to my friend NotKeith to help me get started, and over the last week, we both knocked up a couple of efforts. Obviously, Keith's are somewhat better than mine...



Now I’m going to try and get the internet involved.

Being realistic, I know that like so many others, this project will probably fall flat on its bleached face at the first hurdle, but you know what? I do not care. It’s a bit of fun, innit? And a fitting tribute to a fascinating man.

So whether you have bags of artistic talent or you can barely draw breath; whether you adored Michael Jackson and agreed with Uri Geller that he was basically Jesus, but whiter, or you despised him and considered him the concentrated OJ of child abuse, do the internet a favour and make a pictorial tribute to the troubled king of moonwalking and Jesus Juice. Your work will be briefly critiqued and your blog, if you have one, linked.

In other visual news, the sun was out yesterday in the North for pretty much the first time this year, so I went to the sea and took some photos. I’d like if I may, to share them with you. And I know I may.

This says it all really…



This is the reason I cycled for four hours yesterday and the reason I’m having another crack at fasting over the next few days. I refuse to end up like one of these pregnant old men…



And this is a windmill…



And this has nothing whatsoever to do with Michael Jackson – just one letter out though…



There are lots more here, should you be of a mind to peruse them.

Now I must return to the saddle, before the clouds crack.

Have a good weekend.

Doing anything nice?



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Monday, 20 July 2009

Swine Flu Unmasked :: It’s War

This weekend Home Secretary Alan Johnson admitted that Swine Flu is now a more substantial threat to this country than terrorism. Ministers are discussing the emergency implementation of 24-hour crematoria and inflatable mortuaries. They’re even talking about stopping people going to see football matches. It’s official – the UK is now a matter of minutes away from a Swine Flu Panic Pandemic. Currently, 19 of every 1000 newspaper and internet articles are in some way flu-panic-related. When this figure reaches 20 – any second now – we will officially have a Pandemic Panic Epidemic on our hands. Phase 11. And are we prepared? Well, despite what Alan Johnson says, no we are not. But is this heightened state of panic really justified? Or do we have another Bird Flu on our hands? All screeching pundits and no mass graves.

Well, let’s look at the facts. OK. Face-masks on…

* What are the symptoms of Swine Flu?

The primary symptoms are as follows:

- sudden fever
- sudden cough
- sudden sneeze
- aches and pains
- sore throat
- fatigue
- nausea
- dismay
- vomiting
- diarrhoea
- bad credit
- watery eyes
- loss of appetite
- sense of moral unease and general foreboding
- prickling sensation in the coccyx (heralding appearance of short curly tail)

If you have, or develop, or suspect you might be about to develop any or all of the above, you probably already have Swine Flu.

* What can I do to avoid catching Swine Flu?

If it’s not already too late, nothing. But if futile gestures are your thing, stay home, wash your hands every fifteen minutes and rinse all fruit and vegetables thoroughly (soak for more impressive gesture).

* How is Swine Flu contracted?

Swine Flu is highly contagious and is spread through coughs, sneezes and any kind of physical contact with any infected surface. Infected surfaces may include door handles, toilet seats, computer keyboards and the very surface of the air.

* Can I catch it from kissing?

Yes.



* Are there any age groups particularly at risk?

Yes, high-risk groups are the under-5s, the over-65s and anyone in the 6-64 age bracket. Of those, 25-45-year-olds are actually most at risk. This last fact is especially worrying as it is reminiscent of the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918 which also favoured that demographic, and went on to kill up to a hundred million people. Did you hear that? A HUNDRED MILLION.

* I heard the other day that it’s dangerous to conceive at the moment. But then the government said that was just scaremongering. I’m confused. And scared. May I conceive? I am ovulating.

It would not be an exaggeration to say that conceiving at this point would be tantamount to infanticide. Pregnant women are easy prey to Swine Flu as they are too busy nurturing their unborn progeny to adequately defend against the virus. Do not get pregnant. Whatever you do.

* I’m pregnant! Should I be panicking?

Yes!!! Pregnancy is hard enough at the best of times. Pregnancy in the middle of a panic pandemic is positively pandemonium. If you are pregnant, under no circumstances use public transport. If at all possible, don’t leave the house at all. Any babies you must have, have them at home. And home-school them.

* If I go on holiday, what is the risk I will catch it on the flight?

The risk is panic-teasingly high. Thankfully, many airlines have already initiated moves to monitor passengers and if they exhibit symptoms, to turn them away with cattle prods and Tasers.

If a Flu Carrier does manage to make it aboard the same plane as you, that’s pretty much it. The viral equivalent of September 11th. Swine Eleven. You’ll be coughing up blood before the sandwiches arrive. Switch your phone back on and say your last goodbyes.

* But I’m going to Xinjiang on Wednesday. It’s all booked and everything.

Cancel it. Swine Flu is global. If you contract it abroad, you may very well be quarantined and later transported to a Swine Flu colony or ‘trough’, and gassed.

* What can I do if I suspect my neighbour has Swine Flu?

If you suspect it, report it. If you think you have seen a person acting suspiciously or displaying any of the symptoms of Swine Flu, immediately move away and call 999. The government Rat on a Swine Action Hotline should be up and running any month now. In the meantime, be firm. Ostracise anyone you suspect and paint a large red cross on their front door in the night.

* I have bad hay fever and my neighbour suspects I have Swine Flu. I woke up in the night to find him painting a red cross on my front door. What should I do?

Take the consequences. Every war has casualties. If we let you under the radar, where do we draw the line? Before we know it, we’ll be letting in bronchitis, tuberculosis, emphysema, pneumonia, AIDS.

* I have Swine Flu. What hope is there for me?

No hope. Put your affairs in order, make your peace with those you will leave behind, paint a large red cross on your front door and wait for the end. You should not leave the house under any circumstances, but if for some reason you choose to, wear a white pillowcase with a red cross on it and ring a bell at all times. Be aware, you will be shot dead.

* Have any famous people died from Swine Flu yet?

So far, just one.



But it’s early days.

* Is there anywhere I can go for unbiased expert help on the subject?

No, there is not. You’re probably talking about a kind of national flu hotline, something like the one the government swore blind, in November 2007, would be ‘ready for instant implementation’ as soon as the WHO declared Pandemic Alert Phase 5, which happened in April this year. Since then, despite repeated promises and a steadily rising body count, FluLine has yet to materialise. And the rest is just a vast spluttering cacoughony of cynical, manipulative hogwash.

* Wait, wait. Is there a vaccine?

Pffft.

Really, the absolute best you can do is die in style with one of these humorous Japanese animal masks.

Cough.



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Friday, 26 June 2009

Feedback Friday :: Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson.

Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson.

Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson.

Michael.


Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson.



Michael Jackson.

Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson.



Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson.

Deepak Chopra. Newsnight.

Oy.



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Tuesday, 25 March 2008

Everybody’s Free (To Wear A Paper Bag)

I’ve been practising thinking positive, because I’ve been told that it helps, that it makes life easier. So, to stop twitching with misery and shouting out, Tourette’s style, in embarrassment as I remember, amongst other things, the rather desperate, pathetic email I sent Patricia a couple of hours before I found Keith’s blog, I scribbled down a couple of lexical amulets to help me remain upbeat and optimistic. And then I got to thinking, hey, I could actually help others with this stuff. Because helping others is what I’m all about. So I started writing a kind of a manifesto for ugly people and other losers. Then I remembered The Sunscreen Song and thought I’d try and blatantly rip it off. I ended up staying up late and writing the following. It wasn’t till after I was done that I realised it was Easter Monday and like Christ, I had risen again and come back to save mankind. Praise me…

Everybody’s Free (To Wear A Paper Bag)

Ugly ladies and gentlemen of the internet… wear a paper bag over your head.

If I could offer you one tip for overcoming overwhelming feelings of ugliness, that might as well be it.

The long term benefits of wearing a paper bag are open to question, but in the short term they’re great at replacing the shame of a hideous face with the embarrassment of wearing a bag. It’s a trade-off. Still, this tip, along with the rest of my advice, should probably be taken with a hefty pinch of salt.

I will dispense the rest of this advice now.

Remember at all times that physical beauty really is only skin deep and that even though Enrique Iglesias has moist women queuing up to fellate him, he is famously, unconscionably dull. If this makes you feel better, hang onto it for all you’re worth, and don’t give a second thought to George Clooney, who not only is better looking than half a dozen Enriques, but is also a scintillating conversationalist.

Think beautiful thoughts. While you’re about it, buy beautiful things, listen to beautiful music and read beautiful words in the not necessarily entirely vain hope that some of this beauty will rub off on you.

Read. The more you’ve got going on inside you, the less you need to worry about the car crash that is your physical appearance.

Practise your comebacks for when the cruel barbs fly. Perfect them in front of a mirror. ‘Madam, I may be ugly, but I am also stupid and very bad in bed. Oh.’ That sort of thing. Be careful however, not to self-deprecate to the point of self-loathing.

When the barbs do come, try hard to laugh them off; let them bounce off you without causing damage. Don’t be overly sensitive, and don’t be too hard on yourself if you are.

Don’t be afraid of mirrors. While they may not exactly be your friend, they are a reminder that you’re bold enough to face who you are, and to love yourself.

Love yourself. Wear your ugliness like a badge of honour. Remind yourself that any old imbecile can be pretty but it takes real character to carry off a look like yours.

Rejoice in the fact that when people do like you, they really do like you. They’re not just trying to get into your pants because you look good, and they’re not with you for the cachet your company brings.

Avoid people who want to make themselves look good by surrounding themselves with freaks.

Surround yourself with freaks. (If this simply not possible, forget about it. It wasn’t the best piece of advice in the world in the first place.)

Accentuate the positive. If there’s really nothing in your appearance to be remotely positive about, accentuate the negative.

You’re only as ugly as you feel.

Don’t be intimidated by superficial fuckwits who cannot offer the world anything more than a camera-ready smile and a pig-ugly soul. You are better than they are. Just not as good-looking.

If you happen to be as ugly on the inside as you are on the outside, you probably need more help than I can give you here.

Floss. Good teeth mask a myriad of sins. If you don’t have good teeth, get some.

Work on your body. God may have given you a baboon’s behind for a face, but there really is no excuse for being fat. Besides which, your body is your temple. Worship.

If you do believe in God, remember that He loves you. If on the other hand you have sanity on your side, thank God you’re only ugly.

Dancercise. If you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room, well, that’s probably a good thing.

Remember that there are five senses and being ugly marks you down on just one. So make sure you concentrate on the others: smell good, sound good, practise sensitive tactility and sprinkle a little cinnamon on your genitalia every day, just in case you get lucky.

Wash. Good hygiene counts for so much in this world. If you really need to be told this at your time of life, there may already be no hope for you.

There is ALWAYS hope.

Embrace metrosexuality. Pamper yourself with oils, powders and unctions. Moisturise daily. If your skin is soft, supple and touchable, chances are someone somewhere will want to touch it.

Wear good clothes. The expression ‘You can’t polish a turd’ is a vicious, pernicious lie. You most certainly can polish a turd. Indeed, it is your duty as a human turd to polish yourself daily, and a fine wardrobe is some of the best turd-polish money can buy.


Smile. Even if you have a mouth like a block of blue cheese, smile like you really mean it. The whole world may not smile with you, but the best people will.

You are NOT as ugly as you imagine. Are you? Actually maybe you are. If you are, then really, the dancercising, flossing and good clothes will help. But if you’re genuinely not, you may actually have Body Dysmorphic Disorder. Look into it.

You are NOT as Body Dysmorphic as you imagine. You’re just fat. Eat less. Dancercise.

Wear a hat. Hats are the icing on the cake, the fairy on top of the Christmas tree, the fan of glorious feathers that turns the fat ugly peabird into a glorious cock. A good hat can be like sunshine above the clouds; a beautiful day atop the miserable blanket of smog that is your face. A hat can be the ultimate signifier of dignity. Remember, without that hat and those snazzy threads, Humphrey Bogart was just another ugly bugger in ill-fitting dentures, waving a gun about and grimacing like a gargoyle.

Avoid corrective surgery like the plague that it is. Don’t go under the knife unless you absolutely have to, or else part of you will always regret the other parts of you that you threw away.

Pleasure yourself intensely.

Use pornography if you feel the need, and use it shamelessly, but don’t let it get a hold on you.

If possible, sleep with people less attractive that you are. Both sides can only benefit from the union.

If possible, sleep with people more attractive that you are. Both sides can only benefit from the union.

When you mess up, when you embarrass yourself or just stutter or dry up because you’re too nervous, don’t beat yourself up over it. Other people forget quickly; they have their own stuff to think about. Also, the best way to help them forget your humiliations is to do something magnificent.

In the words of Ian Dury, be magnificent. Dury was crippled with polio but was so magnificently charismatic that many people tended not to notice.

Do not blame other people, even if you feel they might actually be to blame. You really are the master of your own destiny.

Do not hate yourself. I know that’s often much easier said that done, but keep it close to you at all times, and always believe it. It’s incredibly important.

Kindness lurks in the most unexpected of places. When kindness creeps up on you and takes you by surprise, allow it to reaffirm your faith in humanity.

Have faith in humanity, because faith in humanity is faith in yourself.

Be careful whose advice you buy, and be very suspicious of those who supply it. There are a lot of cynical heartless people out there whose sole aim in life is to exploit your insecurity.

Oh, and take that paper bag off your head.

You look ridiculous.



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