I’ve recently been blessed with the ability to do something I love while also making enough money to get by. It won’t, by any means, last forever and there will be times throughout this experience where I am so down on my own abilities that it will make me want to set myself on fire before pushing myself off on a barge. You see, I’m a writer and I write for a website that I love from the very bottom of my heart.
My work for hecklerspray is extensive and wide-ranging. People reading this will no doubt have seen me clamouring desperately for their approval and attention. A lot of what we talk about is based almost exclusively on potentially libellous fictions that we spin for the amusement and the ire of our readers.
No Michael, You’ll Never Be A Hard-Boiled Detective
I’ve become close to obsessed with the world of the noir detective of late. Ironically this coincided with watching the quite wonderful HBO series (you have to say HBO when you write as it makes you look intellectual and means people can’t question your taste- wee tip for you there) ‘Bored To Death’ which either starts or has started on Sky Atlantic around the time of writing. I don’t know. This isn’t a TV column as if it was, I’d have to publish it somewhere else. The joys of being a bloody writer, eh?
Anyway, the show centres around Jonathan Ames, a writer (ably portrayed by Jason Schwartzman) who has just broken up with his girlfriend and gets lost in a Raymond Chandler novel. It’s at this point in writing this that I’ve suddenly become extremely self aware and have now, in televisual terms, jumped the shark. I’m copying that show, pretty much down to the ground by thinking about this but the distinct difference is that I don’t know Ted Danson so I think we’re probably okay. For now.
- I Doubt It’s Like This At All… (Artwork by Pia Guerra)
Anyway, the problem with reading detective novels that are set in the 30s, 40s, 50s etc. is that everyone appears to be a wise-cracking, tough-talking smart-arse with more quips up their sleeves than a episode of Just A Minute. I suppose my dissonance between the fiction and the reality must be a bit of a burden in a way. It is something that’s always intrigued me. I wanted to be in the police when I was younger but I never went, I wanted to do criminology (if I didn’t do journalism, which I didn’t do either) at university but I never did. It’s one of those things that’s always eluded me. Still though, the differences between modern Private Investigation and the heady days of Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe are bound to be many and varied. Surely it can’t all be about questioning people? In fact, I very much doubt that any of it is about questioning people these days.
I think what I need is more information. I actually tracked down (read: Googled) the name of a Private Investigation firm in central Glasgow and I’ve been considering popping by to see if I could get to speak to someone about what it takes to get into a world like that and even get an insight into what they do. I’d imagine in a world so full of con artists and, for want of a better term, dickheads they wouldn’t be too happy about sharing an insight into their world with some scruffy kid walking in off the street. Then, I imagine they’d be even less pleased if I walked in wearing a trench coat, a fedora and a really large, angular suit. I’d imagine modern day Private Investigators must hate people like me. People who have read a book, seen a film or two and watched some TV and suddenly believe that they could do it. I know what I’d say and it would contain so many expletives that the person would probably be blown out of the building by the sheer force of ill-will.
What’s to do then? The internet is, ironically, quite a fruitless avenue of investigation with most of the websites either looking like a ‘buy your own degree’ racket or like the last time they were updated and maintained, the Gameboy Colour had just come out. I don’t imagine that careers services are likely to see private investigation as a useful thing to keep literature on so I suppose I need to get an ‘in’. Get the opportunity to ask someone.
Perhaps I should just drop the whole idea. That’s probably the most sensible thing to do. Still… I’ve had that door made up now.
Say Hello, Wave Goodbye, Get Shot In The Back By A Coward
Hello there. This is all very nice, isn’t it?
Or at least, I hope it is because otherwise the last hour of my life has been a complete waste of my time. As opposed to using this blog as a dumping ground for old articles that don’t have a home, I thought it might be a good idea to tell you a bit about me, what I do, who I am, what goes through my head on any given day and, perhaps more importantly, why you should care about that.
I’m not going to lie and say that I’m writing this without the hope that somebody with money will come along and pay me for my services (writing, not sexual… to start off with) but I do feel as though sometimes all I do is slag other people off with no inward focus on myself and all the things that make me fundamentally awful as a human being. If you follow me on Twitter, you might think I give too much away. I apologise for that.
However, it hardly matters. I’m here now with the intention of keeping this blog as up to date with things as I possibly can. I’m sure you’re all pissing your pants with excitement at reading my neurotic, meandering thoughts about the world of ‘freelance writing’, aren’t you? Of course you’re not.
That doesn’t matter now, of course. I’m going to go and look into getting a license to become a Private Investigator. I’m deadly serious. Which, coincidentally, will be my catchphrase. Everyone needs one, right?
I’ve even made a door and everything…
Mel Gibson: Mental In Disguise
The One That Fooled Nobody
He’s a clever man, Mel Gibson. Violent, but clever. So let’s take a look at Mel Gibson’s top 3 appearances in disguise, shall we? Yes. We shall. You can close the window if you want but you’ll be back!
Gillian Duffy
Racist? A BIGOT?! An OWL?!
Unless you look really closely, you may not notice that the ‘bigoted woman’ who is credited with further destroying the reputation of then-Prime Minister Gordon Brown was actually a well-orchestrated plan by Mel Gibson to fool the entire British public into believing that this woman is a bigot.
Unfortunately for Ms Duffy, she wronged Mr Gibson at a budget diner in Arizona while on a family holiday. She clumsily referred to the afore-mentioned Mr Gibson as “a horrible anti-semite”, a statement that international film-star and renowned anti-semite took issue with. After a heated debate about the history of Judaism during which Gibson used the phrase “responsible for all the world’s wars” a world record 584 times during a twenty minute period, he decided to ruin her reputation as a free-thinking, open-minded woman of the world by making her come across as a ‘bigoted woman’ in front of the world’s media. His finest hour? Not quite…
A.A. Gill
Arsey Arsington Gill
This is a breaking story in the sense that the reality of this situation may cause the universe as you know it to shatter. That is if you care at all about Rupert Murdoch’s foremost television reviewer. Of course, Gill’s ‘dyke on a bike’ comments can be interpreted however one likes but in fact, these were not his words at all.
Apparently Gibson took issue with one of Gill’s reviews about one of his favourite restaurants (where only white meat is served, presumably) and hacked his email account soon after. He was quick to throw in a couple of derogatory references to the Welsh but his real piece de resistance came last week when he referred to criminally inoffensive racing presenter Clare Balding who just happens to like other women. Something which Mel believes is AGAINST GOD.
However; if there’s one thing Mel hates more than people who go against his puritanical, conservative views it’s those with the audacity to to dislike the finest working actor on planet earth.
Wayne Rooney’s Prostitutes
Gratuitous T&A?
No gratuitous T&A here please.
The Wayne Rooney incidents are proof that Mel is not only fastidious but also knows how to hold a grudge. Fortunately for William Wallace’s Australian second cousin, the Manchester United star is world-renowned for his inability to resist the advances of a humanoid with a pulse.
To ascertain why Gibson chose to ruin the career and indeed the marriage of the burly footballer we need to go back to when Gibson was a guest at Everton FC’s Goodison Park and began pontificating about his ability as an actor and director before the 18 year-old Rooney informed him that he thought Braveheart was “fucking shit”. Gibson proceeded to spend the intervening period building up a dossier on the young footballer (because he was neither gay, black, a property investor or Jewish) before eventually finding his weakness. Whores.
Needless to say- he had Wayne exactly where he wanted him after that. Of course, this raises the question of how they managed to have intimate relations with Gibson believing that homosexuals are one of the harbingers of the apocalypse.
The End of the World?
Of course, you may be asking yourself ‘what drove him to take on these people’s identities?’. Well, of course it’s the demon drink that Gibson has battled with for years. Disguises are easier on the wallet when all you’re spending money on is vodka and prosthetic noses.
This is something of a public service announcement and a reminder that Mel pretty much hates everyone and if you make the heinous error of insulting the Australian Count of Controversy then it is essentially the equivalent of handing over your credit card to a kiosk marked ‘Information Thieves & Son – Information Thieves’.
It’s In The Game [FIFA 11 Demo]
Coming soon at Life on Games
It’s often hardly worth reviewing any kind of demo but the excitement which is generated year-upon-year by the release of the year’s football simulations is often too much to either bear or ignore. Therefore it was with great excitement that I sat down with a giant EA Sports placard filling my television screen expecting the best FIFA game since… err… the last one.
Starting off in the game is relatively innocuous although the demo does offer you some tantalising reasons to keep playing longer than the standard one or two games. Firstly you can unlock a load of Arsenal-related goodies for the demo and the chance to see Chamakh trying to pass the ball into the net is an opportunity that I- for one- am unwilling to miss.
Your stats from the last five games you’ve played are also displayed in the main menu and you can cycle between these with just a click of the shoulder buttons. It’s a small but very useful touch that I hope to see more of in the full game. As for the inevitable ‘explanation zones’, they let on a little more about the combined ‘Be A Pro’ & ‘Manager Mode’ which seems to suggest that you’re able to work your way up to being a manager from being a player. It was previously expected that the role would be split between a player and a manager but it seems that you’ll get a shot at being a player then a manager in years to come. That calls into question the regenerated players and how they will fit into the game. While it’s always been possible to build strong teams from those players the last few years’ games have been marked out by naming and numbering bugs in the regens which EA will have to address in order to keep people interested.
New kits: a must-have for the footballing pedant
Graphically, FIFA 11 looks much like its predecessor but with an added depth of atmosphere which really means turning up the volume on the existing set of chants from FIFA 10. That’s no bad thing as it does add an air of reality to proceedings and the graphical fixes like actually seeing a team emerge from the tunnel behind the referee (as opposed to FIFA 10 where they stood fully revealed against the backdrop of a silent crowd) are very welcome additions. Post match, you’ll also receive a readout of the performance of all the members of your squad and the ability to watch highlights of the match; all very nice.
Early indications seem to suggest that the new ‘Be A Goalkeeper’ mode might be quite a bit more fun than it sounds. The learning curve is relatively small and you’ll find yourself testing your keeper by placing him in awful positions before trying to match up to your opponents shot. In the demo, the mode is restricted to The Arena but it’s easy to get a feel for how the game will play and perfect your skills before you come up against the best players in the world. It’s fine only having to take on Kaka but I wonder how I’ll fare with the entire Real Madrid front line bearing down on my goal. It seems like it would be a fun sideshow which will no doubt move us even further away from playing real football as we throw controllers across the room shouting “you’re in!”.
All in all, FIFA 11 is shaping up to be a worthy successor to the previous incarnation but EA Sports have left enough to the imagination to stop me getting too excited just yet. Graphical tweaks and such are all well and good but it remains to be seen how the Career Mode will fair under frequent use and whether the inclusion of all these new features will mean that the game loses ground in the race against Pro Evolution as it loses its focus on the elements which have rebuilt the franchise into the market leader and the critics choice in recent years.
You can expect a full review of the game from me in the very near future.
This article is from the “WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAMME…” column in April’s issue of Re:Union magazine.
It’s a question that’s always tapped away at the back of my mind since I first realised that the Scottish didn’t like the English, the English didn’t care about the Scottish and the Welsh and Northern Irish hated everyone else for barely even noticing their presence. Of course, this is a TV-based analogy. The real question is, why are BBC 2 showing repeats of old shows instead of new comedy from North of the border?
A recent piece in the Guardian, suggested that BBC 2’s Burnistoun would stand up on its own in a nationwide broadcast and I have to say that I wholeheartedly agree with that notion. I find it incredible given the amount of funding that is given to comedy on BBC 3 to churn out comedies like Coming of Age, Scallywagga and the “cream” of the BBC 3 crop Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps that there is exceptional comedy being left on the BBC 2 Scotland schedule unseen by the majority of British people, meaning that people outside Scotland have to go south on their Sky remotes to find it. People shouldn’t have to go that way. That way madness, and blindness lie.
The advent of the iPlayer has meant that Scottish comedy is available to those outside Scotland but with these shows often being buried in “other” parts of the site as if they are the ramblings of some crazed old man who had swallowed some leather-bound almanac. The thought that our neighbours are missing out on brilliant BBC 2 comedy which could easily be broadcast instead of repeats which are played instead on nationwide BBC 2 fills me with rage. You know; that kind of rage where you shake so much that you end up involuntarily stamping your feet like a petulant child? That’s me, that is.
However, then comes the counter to the argument. Would people outside Scotland actually enjoy shows like Burnistoun and Limmy’s Show? Well Chewin’ The Fat made the jump successfully as did Rab C. Nesbitt so is there an agenda against Scottish comedy at Television Centre? Is this all some massive conspiracy to stop Scottish comedy becoming bigger than it is? Was it, in fact, a commissioning editor who was the man behind the grassy knoll in 1963? Probably not. As co-writer and co-star of Burnistoun, Robert Florence told me “If I’m commissioned to create a show for BBC Scotland, to be broadcast in Scotland, then I’m going to do everything I can to make sure a Scottish audience enjoys it. That’s who the show is for… If people outside Scotland like it too, then that’s a bonus.”
What an admirable notion. To make something for the people who have asked you to make it. They’re not trying to be something it’s not, they’re not trying to speak to people outside the commissioning demographic, but that’s not to say that both Limmy’s Show and Burnistoun could appeal to an audience South (or West) of the border. Brian Limond, writer and star of Limmy’s Show says: “I’d like to think that my show could be understood by everybody, despite the dialect.”
Ahh, yes. You were shouting “but Michael! The accent!” at the pages of this magazine, weren’t you (nutter)? Well I’ve thought of that. There are so many accents on television which are more difficult to understand than Glaswegian. Take Frankie Boyle; a man from Glasgow. A man with much the same accent as both the stars of Burnistoun and Limmy’s Show yet he is held up as some kind of comedy demi-god (rightly or wrongly).
In essence, BBC Scotland and the writers of these shows have produced truly universal comedy which is funny for what it is and not for where it’s from. Sure, these shows are proud of their roots but is that really a reason to only show these programmes in Scotland? I don’t think so and I think if the people at the BBC looked at these shows versus some of the suspect output that they subject the entire country to then they would find that Scottish shows are at least worthy of a chance. So come on, BBC. Let’s have Burnistoun and Limmy’s Show on BBC 2 proper!
Since the time of writing both Burnistoun & Limmy’s Show have been picked up for new series’. Congratulations to all involved!
“We Interrupt This Programme.” – How I Met Your Mother
This article is from the “WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAMME…” column in December’s issue of Re:Union magazine.
This isn’t an article designed to cross a popular game show of my childhood with an American sitcom. It is however about said sitcom. I have often played the game whereby I pretend I don’t like something that I’ve never even come close to seeing. I’ve done it with many a sitcom; “Gavin and Stacey”, “The King of Queens”, “Lunch Monkeys”, “Joey” and “After You’ve Gone” (although I think I was proved right with the latter three). I found myself doing the same with “How I Met Your Mother” until I was forced, almost at gunpoint, to watch a couple of episodes.
After running out of chairs the cast decided they needed a pay rise.
In all honesty, it’s fantastic. I’ve got my hands on the first three seasons and now I’m officially hooked. If you’ve not seen the show then the basic premise is that the main character is boring the soul out of his children with the tale of how he met their mother (hence the name). These tales are told frankly and to an extent, honestly although Ted does refer to “sandwiches” instead of a certain illicit substance.
However, it is not only Ted’s irritatingly self-minded, marriage-orientated approaches to his late twenties that make the show so endearing. His supporting cast are brilliantly deep and fleshed-out characters. Even Barney (played by the multi-award winning and frankly brilliant Neil Patrick Harris)- the womanising, suit-wearing catchphrase merchant would be the prime suspect for poor characterisation but refreshingly he is just as flawed, insecure as his best friend. His catchphrases are often picked on and made fun of which definitely tells me that this show knows its own potential flaws. Further to the exceptional characterisation ‘How I Met Your Mother’ manages to refresh your memory without needing to use the clumsy ‘Previously On…’ method. It casually drops in footage from previous episodes as if Ted is reminding his kids of an old story. This adds a different sense of narrative to the story and shows they’re not afraid to break a few ‘sitcom rules’.
With greatest respect to the show, it could easily be seen as a dirtier version of “Friends” (Coupling?) and to an extent the “five friends all dating between each other” is a tried, tested and ultimately dead sitcom format. However, it seems that “How I Met Your Mother” strikes a delicate balance between the pace of “Scrubs”, the catchphrase comedy of shows like “Happy Days” and the character development of “Nighty Night” with the tone and approachability of sitcoms such as “King of Queens” and “Two & A Half Men.”
‘Suit up’ and see Season 3 of “How I Met Your Mother” every Friday at 7.30pm on E4.
“We Interrupt This Programme” – CHUCK
This article is from the “WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAMME…” column in March’s issue of Re:Union magazine.
It was during a chat with the arts editor of this very magazine that I first realised I was an idiot. It had never dawned on me before. I’m university-educated, quite bright and I can usually get words right without the constant requirement of a spell-checker (I know, get in line ladies). However, during the course of this chat I asked, nay pleaded, for her to let me write a review for this International edition of Re:Union on the new season of ‘Chuck’ which is currently airing in the US.
It apparently never dawned on me that, being a show from America, it is international and therefore I can write about it ‘til my little [twisted husk of a] heart is content. First of all I should tell you a bit about the show in case you’re not familiar with it. Zachary Levi plays a bit of a loser who works in the American equivalent of PC World; that is until he has a government super-computer downloaded into his head.
He then becomes an grudging spy, getting involved in all sorts of capers (as spies are wont to do) but must continue working his mundane job and trying to keep up the appearance of crippling mediocrity. Accompanied by his secret service ‘handlers’, played adeptly by Yvonne Strahovski and the by now thoroughly typecast Adam Baldwin, Chuck saves the world using the information stored in the computer. Which is in his head. In case you’d forgotten. That bit’s quite important.
The show is the brainchild of OC creator Josh Schwartz and uses many of the same production team as was used on the teen drama and a lot of the touches feel very “OC-ish”, from sweeping shots of ultimately pointless scenery to drippy indie music, if it wasn’t for the gunplay and car crashes you’d think you were watching Seth Cohen bounding around the boulevards of Orange County.
I won’t say too much about the plot of the third series, I don’t want to ruin it for you, but Chuck’s undergone something of a change which was a much-needed development as the show came to the end of a difficult second season. The first few episodes house guest roles for Brandon Routh (he played Superman, honestly), Kristin Kreuk of Smallville fame and Stone Cold Steve Austin. Now don’t get me wrong here, you need to have seen the first two series in order to enjoy the new one, otherwise you’ll be left more bewildered than David Cameron in a council estate but I wholeheartedly recommend picking up the first two seasons on DVD before the new series explodes onto Virgin 1 in the Spring.
Britain’s Got Brainwashed
In print in December’s Re:Union Magazine.
I don’t like X Factor. There, I said it and I feel better for it. If you care about Dannii Minogue’s opinion on music then I’d recommend that you skip this page and move on to a feature (which I’m quite sure is in this issue) on how excellent the whole experience is. This article is not a rant on the fad of celebrity which grips our nation like a particularly nasty woodworking accident either. People enjoy what they enjoy. However, I feel a little railroaded by a number of people in my life who imply that by not having any interest in the X Factor, I’m somehow less of a person.
Simon Cowell goes to great effort to block out the sound of his own voice
X Factor is a show which has survived on the fact that about five talented people come through the doors every year, enjoy limited success and allow Simon Cowell to add another zero onto his bank balance. Others may argue that in an age where a significant amount of our music is illegally sourced and distributed, X Factor shows that people still care about the music industry and want a say in the kind of thing that is put out by major labels. That’s a noble argument, I wonder how many of these people have bought Leona Lewis’ album?
It could be that I’m being small-minded. “It’s original entertainment!” But is it? Every year X Factor has people who honestly believe, in their heart of hearts, that they can sing. They can sing other people’s songs. Look at the contentious issue of “The Twins”. Those spine-achingly annoying boys can neither sing, nor endear an audience to them but they’re still there. To an extent it’s not even about talent anymore, it’s about a cheap laugh. I’m all for a cheap laugh but not when it’s going to be number one in the charts come Christmas.
Worse still is the meteoric rise in other shows trying to do a similar thing. You may think there’s not that many and some have passed on and others have been around since before X Factor. Next Top Model, Masterchef, Project Runway, Britain’s Got Talent, Strictly Come Dancing, T-Mobile: Transmission, Popstars, Pop Idol, Dancing on Ice, Show Me The Funny and there was even a talent show for architects which is seemingly so poor that Channel 4 have consigned it to the archives, never to be heard from again all show that we are being over-run with ‘cheap thrill competitions’.
I’m sure you see the point by now. I’m not trying to incite a television based revolution but I would argue that not only is Simon Cowell’s ‘nice little money spinner’ diluting the music industry (I know that Pop Bot 5400 will be Xmas no. one already, and so do you), it is also diluting television. In a world where people complain about television being “dumbed down” almost weekly, it is therefore not the place of lazy television executives to jump on a bandwagon which began in the ‘70s so that they can sleep comfortably in beds made of £20 notes.
Mr. Cowell has it down to a fine art. The ability to keep people glued to their sofas every Saturday and Sunday night as the results that ultimately mean nothing pour into the voting totals and the premium rates pour into his wallet. It’s little wonder that he pulls his trousers up so high with the weight of your hard-earned money pulling them back down.
Open Complaint to ITV
If you haven’t seen this piece of Daily Mail-style over-reaction then I really must insist that you watch before you read.
I have chosen to publish the email of complaint which I sent to ITV in the hope that reading it might give you the inclination to complain also. The games industry needs a voice and I urge you all to write a short email registering your dismay at this broadcast. I have published this email to reinforce the (far more eloquent and informed) comments made by the editor of Sixth Axis, Peter Chapman which can be found here.
To whom it may concern,
I am not normally one for writing to a station to complain about any of its content as I firmly believe everything has its place. However, having seen the segment on the recent Alan Titchmarsh Show in which the video games industry is attacked as if it were some lawless frontier town in 19th Century America being discussed in Washington I feel compelled to make my voice heard.
I realise, of course, that The Alan Titchmarsh Show airs at 3pm and is aimed demographically at an entirely different audience to myself and many of my peers however, I would like to take a moment to run through my grievance with the segment individually.
Firstly, Alan’s introduction to the segment in which the tone of the rest of the “discussion” is set. Alan uses the rather hyperbolic set-up and then tops it off by, instead of suggesting a counter-argument, adding another (albeit completely similar) argument on top. This puts anyone on the panel who is trying to defend the video gaming industry on the back-foot immediately (something which you can tell from the audience’s rather pantomime reaction to many of Mr Ingham’s comments).
Secondly the panel was decidedly weighted against the “representative” of the industry with even Alan himself weighing in numerous times to undermine the message that he had come to put forward. Essentially I have to wonder what the thinking behind the other two panelists were aside from the fact that they just happened to be hanging around the studio like a pair of vultures looking for work. Julie Peasgood, who presented herself as some sort of anti-violence campaigner as opposed to her usual role as “sexpert” on the show and Kelvin McKenzie who is more than comfortable with the glorification of war. These “panelists” seem to have been possibly the two most reactionary Z-listers available to the producers at that time and I am very uncomfortable with their reaction to Ingham’s statements.
The way in which the discussion was carried out troubled me also. I would like to offer as an example the fact that when Mr Ingham attempted to quote any recognised statistics he was challenged by the show’s green-fingered host; however, when Ms Peasgood threw out the tried and tested “video games make children violent” line she was allowed to continue with no request for either clarification or justification of that statement. Furthermore Mr Ingham’s response to her ‘argument’ was met with jeering from the audience.
To begin with I almost went into a state of confused shock as it seemed that Mr McKenzie may be providing the ‘Devil’s Advocate’ approach to the debate but unfortunately as time went on it became clear that his research was, at best, superficial and he decided that he would be better playing to the audience who clearly thought that they were attending a mid-season performance of Jack & The Beanstalk as opposed to a chat show.
Now I’m afraid I must move on to the real kicker in this complaint which, it will come as no surprise, is the completely unfounded allegation that video games contributed to the vicious murder of a child which is completely unsubstantiated and marked the moment that the entire ‘debate’ was completely void. It became clear that there was little more to this than an excuse for some horrifically ill-informed ‘celebrities’ to insult the intelligence of a man who had gone on that show to defend, not only his industry, but also something that I would imagine he loves.
It is utterly indefensible that this segment went the way it did and I would call for an apology on both the ITV website and on the show itself as this treatment of a heavily-regulated industry borders on the defamation of said industry and, frankly, shows the producers and researchers of The Alan Titchmarsh Show up to be utterly incompetent.
Best regards,Michael Park
The Great Collapso 