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Ahhhh, Autumn is coming in. Time to turn on the central heating, throw
conkers at old people, complain about the weather and chuck a firework
around 'cos it's cool.
I am truly sorry that last week's Whimsy did not arrive. I must confess
that I have been somewhat busy. No, it's true! I have been running
around a lot, like a dog wearing shoes, and the Whimsy has been low on
my list of priorities. Sorry!
But I am here now and I hope all is forgiven.Thanks to all of you who wrote in to bemoan the lack of Whimsy. It's lovely to know you care. I am really, really sorry it's late. OK?
Special Guests today are the delicious Julia and the delightful Tristan. Both act as a kind of Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee. Julia is the one who wears the trousers while Tristanstays at home to do the ironing. Now that they are living very near it could mean a return to those good old days of watching PetRescue, drinking tequila and going Beast-hunting.
EXCLUSIVE NEWSFLASH!!!!! A good friend of mine, known only as The Black
Rider, has written a special polemic about the state of the Welsh Music
Scene. Now while I can appreciate that most of you probably don't give
an Elephant's Toss about the Welsh Music industry, you may be interested
to see what The Black Rider has to say. A censored, less sweary version
is shortly to be available on the Land of Song website -
www.landofsong.net <http://www.landofsong.net> - but The Black Rider has granted us exclusive access
to his full, vitriolic and profane version. I do hope you can check it
out at the Whimsy Website:
www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~codmate/whimsy/index.html <http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~codmate/whimsy/index.html>
Also available at the Whimsy Website is a complete archive of Whimsies
since June. Shout it from the rooftops and address the press.
Oh, and winner of the "stupidest name in university competition" has to be Jimmy Jim Jim Jim Lowry with his stunning entry:
Stupidest boy's name I came across at Uni was Sholto.
Seeing as James went to the uber-posh uni that is Oxford, it's surprising he didn't meet someone called Bassenthwaite. Sholto is well and truly the winner. James, you win a special prize - The chance to go out for a date with my ex-girlfriend! Hurrah! Oh....you already have 'cos you're marrying her. Oh well, best of luck (she talks in her sleep by the way).
Pleeeeefargustopillshelp! Welcome
Season of the Day - Autumn. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.
Always puts me in mind of preparation for hibernation. Autumn is usually
quite an amusing time for me. It seems strange but following the inertia
of Summer, Autumn usually gets me in mind for Christmas. Lots of people
moan about Autumn but I have to disagree. So in order to give a fair
assessment of Autumn, let's have a list of pros and cons:
WHY AUTUMN RULES
Lovely smoky smells in the air
The trees go all psychedelic
On nice days there is a beautiful hazy sunlight
Conkers!!!!!
Clear skies at night, all starry and gorgeous
Nice apples in the Greengrocers
Everyone starts planning party stuff for Christmas without thinking of
horrible family get-togethers
Squirrels!!!!!
Fog - Brilliant weather phenomenon or potential deathtrap for drivers?
You decide!
Harvest Moon
All your mates are around, unlike Summer when everyone buggers off to
foreign parts for overpriced holidays
People start doing civilised things like having dinner parties
My Birthday in November (the 22nd, which is still technically Autumn)
Guy Fawkes Night - Ooooh! Aaaaaah!
WHY AUTUMN SUCKS
It's always raining
It gets dark earlier
Big shops put up their Christmas decorations at least 2 months before
they should
It's cold
Hedgehogs seem to get run over more often than they do at other times of
the year
...and a moon that's the colour of Bone
No prayers for November to linger longer
Of course, soon it will be Winter. While Christmas is always good for a
laugh, February brings the misery of an endless procession of bad
vibes. If I were you, sit back and enjoy Autumn while you can.
Pointless Sport of the Day - Surfing. Apart from inspiring The Beach
Boys, surfing is a pointless excercise and has no value. "I know,"
thinks a be-mulleted Aryan goon in Australia, "I'll get me a plank of
wood, put some fluorescent suncream on my nose, talk in a stupid jargon
of 'tubes', 'wipeouts' and 'large scaley cows with syphilis' (Look, do
you think I make this crap up??). It'll be rad and wicked! All the
chicks will love it!!!! And I can have an excuse for not going to
work!!!!"
Sadly, all of the above is true. Surfers do seem to dash off from work
at the drop of a hat because the "swell" is good, they do have mullets
(yes they do!), and (sigh!) the "chicks" do love it. How many times in
my life have gorgeous women of my acquaintance run off with a complete
twit in tight swimming trunks because - and I quote - "He's such a
surfer dude!!!". He's such a complete dickhead in my opinion. Remember
surfing is dangerous due to the inherent nature of sharks. Did you see
that news clip where a 14 foot Great White Shark lunged at a surfing
imbecile? I felt sorry for the shark when instead of biting down on
lovely scrummy human flesh, the poor thing endured a mouthful of
disgusting-tasting surfboard. Yes that surfer was suffering from some
kind of alien brain suppressant because that beach was regularly
patrolled by marauding sharks and if he was any more intelligent he
would have learned the lessons so graphically taught to us in Jaws.
Surfers piss me off. Sour grapes? Possibly....possibly.... But they are
still neanderthalic morons with low foreheads.
Band of the Day - Manic Street Preachers. A bunch of liars and
hypocrites who, when they brought their first record out, told the world
they were going to make one brilliant album and then split up. 10 years
on, we're still waiting for them to either a) make a halfway decent
album, or b) split up. Personally, b) can't come fast enough. Once upon
a time they were the only band to come out of Wales with any chance of
success and they flopped onto the music scene playing lousy rip-offs of
Clash songs. Now that they are fat and rich, they now make music that
sounds like a poor-quality Bon Jovi. They also claim to have a
left-leaning political angle, which mainly means ripping off old Labour
speeches and throwing them back in the faces of today's more moderate
youth. Frankly, they got it all off the back of their Politics textbooks
from school - any old idiot can string a few complaints together and
call it "political". What you then have to do is come up with practical
solutions and realistic social projects rather than whinging on about
the Tories - a worthwhile thing to do but why not go off and do
something about it rather than complain all the time? This is why the
bland mainstream of politics will always win. It's sad but true.
While doing this, they have encouraged a bunch of hormonal, depressed
and alienated teenagers to wear feather boas, put huge amounts of
eyeliner on and swan around town centres like the world is against them.
Oh, grow up for God's sake. Everybody else in the world suffers
adolescence so what makes you think you're the first to feel wretched
about your spotty visage?
On the way, the Manics have mystifyingly attained an aura of mythos
surrounding them. This has been helped along by the disappearence of
their lyricist and rhythm guitarist Richey James (real surname Edwards).
Why? Let's puncture some of the legends surrounding the Manics:
*Nicky Wire (real surname Jones) is in touch with his feminine side -
Bollocks. Just 'cos he wears a dress ("ooh no Dan, it's a sarong" - IT'S
A DRESS!!!) and does the hoovering. I do the
hoovering.....er.....occasionally......oh OK, very occasionally. Does
that keep me in touch with my feminine side? I hardly think so.
*Richey James was a doomed and tragic, yet romantic poetic figurehead
for a disillusioned generation - Bollocks part 2. Richey was a depressed
alcoholic who copied all his "best" lyrics from Sylvia Plath and Aneuran
Bevan. He famously carved 4REAL into his arm with a Stanley knife when
Steve Lamacq suggested he was a bit of a fake. Richey could not play the
guitar. At all. But then he disappeared, leaving his car near an outcrop
by the Severn Bridge. Is he dead? Who fucking cares? He was probably
savvy enough to know that if he disappeared, a whole legend would build
up around him. What about the very real possibility that he is probably
sunning himself on a beach in Barbados, or as rumour suggests, living
off royalties in Goa and encouraging "Richey Sightings" on an annual
basis.
*The Manics play great songs about alienation in a materialistic and
uncaring world - No they don't. Pink Floyd, The Smiths, Radiohead,
Leonard Cohen, The Cure, Scott Walker and many others write great tunes
about alienation. the Manics write songs that have the petulant
arrogance of a teenager slamming their bedroom door. I'm waiting for The
Manics to write a song called "I'm Grounded and I Don't Like It", a
ballad called "Homework on a Sunday Night" or a stirring anthem called
"It's Not Bloody FAIR!!!!"
*Nicky Wire's brother Patrick is a great playwrite - Nicky Wire's
brother Patrick is a talentless chancer who lords it at Clwb Ifor Bach
in Cardiff and bases his entire career on his brother's success. See
also Paul Gallagher, useless brother of Noel & Liam (ooh, like there's
talent there!)
*The Manics were quite right to insist on having their own toilets at
Glastonbury - Wrong again. You may not have heard of "crappergate" but I
will enlighten you. The Manics were playing Glasters a few years ago
and, in an attempt to avoid the squalid and potentially toxic hygiene
facilities, brought along their own portaloos. Upon arrival at
Glastonbury they erected the karzi's and hung a pompous note on the door
of the loo saying "These toilets are reserved exclusively for the Manic
Street Preachers. Please respect this". Oh well, excuse us. Not only did
they then bludgen the crowd with some awful tunes, but Billy Bragg
(hurrah for Billy!) pointed out that being elitist and aloof on the
matter of toilets only goes to prove how rich and out of touch with
their fans the Manics had become. Nicky Wire responded by calling Billy
Bragg a "big-nosed twat" (oh, well done). Billy, being a sensible chap
with long experience of brainless punk morons, ignored this highly
offensive, sexist and pointless remark by calmly inviting Mr. Wire for a
proper debate on Socialism. Wire, realising he is a Welshman with very
little brain, backed down.
*Manics fans are the epitome of a doomed generation - Manics fans are a
bunch of self-obsessed whingers.
OK, enough of my ranting. I'll let the fans speak for themselves. Here
is a list of Manics fans' websites (many thanks to Joe Goodden for
providing me with this amusing nonsense):
"Archives of Pain, Eyeliner and Featherboas, The Intense Humming Of
Evil,
Assassinated Beauty, Glittering Etiquette, Iconoclastic Glitter, Vodka
Tears, Psychotic Sanity, Perfect Insanity, Beautiful Destruction, We Her
Majesty's Prisoners, Aesthetic Debris, Imitation Of Dignity, Black
Garden,
Moral Suicide, Another Invented Disease"
Puh-leeeeeeeez!
Tourist Attraction of the Day - The Millenium Dome. The World's Biggest
Upside-Down Wok is now regarded as a laugh-a-minute farce. Apparently it
is cold and wind with not much going on inside other than a poncey show
with music by Peter Gabriel and some giant babies. Have you been yet?
Nope, didn't think so......
Reptile of the Day - Cobra. Fabbo but lethal snake. Famous for
"grooving" to the sound of an Arabic oboe-thing, also well known for
having the coolest scales a reptile could have, along with the Western
Diamond-Backed Rattlesnake. When threatened, the cobra raises its head
up and extends a "hood" around its head. The cobra then hisses loudly
before striking, using lethal fangs to get the message across. Cobras
are not the most poisonous of Snakes but they are the most alarming, but
it's not as if they don't give you enough warning.....
Member of the Royal Family of the Day - Princess Anne. Rides horses,
goes to horse events, organises Badminton - the big jumpy-fence horse
festival - and looks like a horse. Apparently, she is Prince Philip's
favourite child and was loved far more than the introspective Charles.
Anne used to get bad press because she swore at reporters but now she is
generally regarded as the most down-to-Earth member of the Royal Family.
Like the other Royals, she does her fair share of charity work - nodding
at cripples and looking serious in hospitals - she also does work very
hard for UNICEF and regularly goes off to Africa to do fundraising work.
I do actually have a great deal of respect for Anne. Not only is she
quite intelligent and outspoken, her daughter Zara is really lush.
Supermodel of the Day - Elle Macpherson. Decidedly leggy and surprisingly butch Aussie model who became best known for cavorting about in the nuddie in the 1995 film, Sirens (also starring the delightfully Arthur Ransome-ish Tara Fitzgerald and the hem-hawing nincompoop Hugh Grant).
TV Programme of the Day - Eurotrash. 'Allo My Breeteesh Churms!!!! The most unashamed programme on TV is now long in the tooth. But then, it always was. It is mired in a smutty seventies vibe, complete with Gallic Frog Supremo Antoines De Caunes, and features a range of fabulous perversions only topped by the internet.
I love Eurotrash. It used to be terrific post-pub TV fare, it now constitutes a major part of my weekly TV viewing (along with The Simpsons, Top of the Pops 2 and Robot Wars. Of course, the magnificent thing about Eurotrash is that it knows it's a cheap TV programme which is blatantly Xenophobic (or is it.....?) and a perfect excuse to show genitalia on TV without being part of a serious documentary on sex. Mr De Caunes is a God of crappy telly (remember Rapido?) and knows that by being cheeky and French and useless, he can get big laughs. Hurrah for the fact that it does not go out with a moronicly guffawing studio audience!
Of course, we sexually repressed Brits (sorry but we are, no matter what you may think) love watching programmes that ridicule our European neighbours and Eurotrash gleefully exploits the "fact" that:
*All French girls are fit, ice-maiden cool and take their clothes off at the drop of a hat
*All Dutch people indulge in kinky sex, drugs and are jolly nice and will take their clothes off at the drop of a hat
*All Italian people are hairy, passionate, love singing and take their clothes off at the drop of a hat
*All Eastern Bloc women are a bit on the rough side of fit but now thanks to the thawing of the cold war are keen to take their clothes off at the drop of a hat
*Spanish Girls are drop-dead stunning and feisty and take their clothes off at the drop of a hat
*The Germans are fat, disgusting, lecherous, ugly, smelly, humourless, vaguely imperialistic, old, buffoonish, reminiscent of Gert Frobe, horrible in bed, flatulent, fond of great big sausages, disgusting to look at when nude but still take their clothes off at the drop of a hat.
With the oncoming of the European Federal State (get used to it, it's going to happen) Britain is feeling increasingly marginalised and excluded from all this sexy fun. Does Britain have a Sex Museum? Do members of our armed forces conduct exercises in the nude? Are our politicians former Madams and Porn stars? Why are we missing out?????
Of course, Eurotrash has its serious side. In its heyday, it was co-hosted with Antoines and Jean Paul Gaultier. That didn't last long - one suspects a few EuroEgos! And poor Lola, the spectacular mutant woman with 100" (and 100% fake) tits who died of (ahem) "natural causes" last year, she was only 28!!!! It also makes subtle points that we Brits, laughing at German pensioners with rubber fetishes, haven't the guts to come out and admit that some of us actually like doing all these things (no, this is not an admission of guilt) and that we are watching this programme as a release for our repressed desires.
But why carp? Eurotrash is fabulous - from the hilariously cheap cardboard backgrounds (did anyone see the fabulous "smoking volcano" on last week's show?), to the wannabe pop stars who try and plug their vile singles, clearly without comprehension of what the show is all about. From the gorgeous Czech supermodels who swap pants with Antoines (such good sports!) to a ridiculous Bontempi backing ("Pourquoi? Mais Oui!"), to items about phallic vegetables and their uses for suburban housewives - Eurotrash rules. If this is compulsory viewing when we get a single currency, I'll convert my overdraft to Euros right now!!!
Cat of the Day - Lion (RAAAAAAAHHHH!!!). King of the Jungle? Hardly, when Lions live on the savannahs of Africa - roughly 2000 miles from the nearest dwindling patch of rainforest. Lions are wicked. Their big fluffy coats and lovely golden eyes should not distract you from the sharp pointy teeth in their mouths. Also, Lions are ridiculously sexist in their hierarchy. The males laze about all day looking all cool in their big fluffy manes, while the females do all the work, bring up the children, catch the antelope etc, etc. Disney's Lion King (utterly fucking terrific) paints a false picture of what it is to be a lion, but then Disney was never great on realism (teapots that sing and dance?) or, for that matter, teribly good with animals (a giant mouse speaking in a helium-squeak of a voice meddling about with enchanted broomsticks?). Ah, I have changed my mind (and I'll tell you why in a bit). Lions are actually not as fab as you may think. They smell, they are bad-tempered, they can eat you and their roar is not the fabbo, stereo RAAAHHH of the MGM lion, it is more like a ROWLF kind of noise. The reason why I've changed my mind? Tigers! Stripey, stylish, more endangered, handsome, unsmelly, a tendency to swim and a bigger roar: RAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! And think about it on Disney terms - if there was a fight between Shere Khan from the Jungle Book and Simba from the Lion King, who would win? Exactly!
Thought for the Day - What are you doing here?
Dan Greensmith
Special Feature
The Otter's Nose - Malaise in the Welsh Music Scene
Whimsy Archive
02-10-00 | 27-09-00
18-09-00 | 11-09-00 | 04-09-00 | 30-08-00 | 21-08-00 | 14-08-00
07-08-00 | 21-07-00 | 14-07-00 | 07-07-00 | 30-06-00 | 23-06-00
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