keresaspa: (L7)
As I type an open air music festival by the name of Tennent's Vital rages away about a mile from me as the crow flies. As loathe as I am to sound like an old fogey, they couldn't make it much louder, could they? I would never get between the young people and their music and I lost count of the number of times I was at open air music festivals in my youth (well, I never was actually) but turn the bloody racket down.

I might complain a bit less if the line-up was a tad better but I fail to see the appeal of dull indie chancers like the Black Keys and the Cribs, much less the Minutes or Trucker Diablo (although admittedly I have no idea who the last two are). But top of the bill? The bloody Foo Fighters! How these gits have got away with the same old regurgitated bog-standard bore-rock for so long, with Dave Grohl still hailed as a genius and the voice of a generation, is beyond me. People who rightly pillory the likes of Foreigner and Journey for churning out bland, formulaic, "anthemic" stadium rock will lick the Foo Fighters rings clean despite the fact that they have been doing the same thing since time immemorial. I bear them no malice as individuals but the sort of lowest common denominator rock that they, along with their offspring in the Kings of Leon, spew out has little or no musical merit at all as far as I'm concerned. The sort of crap that exists only to be blared out at ice hockey games to avoid the possibility that any of the morons in attendance might dare to have a thought in their heads. I swear if I hear a garbled version of bloody "Monkey Wrench" floating over on the wind I might just have to perforate my own eardrums.

That and the fact that Tennents is a pile of pish and even when I boozed I couldn't stand the blasted stuff as you would be better off drinking an alky's wee-wee. Harumph.
keresaspa: (Mister Magoo)
The Premier League is still to finish so I will deal with it as and when but I made my predictions at the start of the season so now that it is over I should loo at how close I was. So read on (which you won't) or off you go (which you will). My predictions are the table on the left, the real ones are those to the right.

hit it, guys )

So that's that then. Still the Premier League to go with Albion in with a shout of claiming a highly creditable tenth place as a great way to sign off before next season's relegation and I'm sure all right-thinking individuals will join me in hoping that Mancini can finally knock Ferguson off his perch and deliver the title to Eastlands. So come on City (until we all get sick of your dominance and sudden influx of glory hunters and start hating you as well in a few years).
keresaspa: (Two Ronnies)
Already the town is in an uproar and it is only going to get worse as Belfast gears up for the flaming MTV Awards. Trying to pass the City Hall is proving virtually impossible now that some great idiot has dumped a bloody great stage in front of it, just so as those whiny barstewards Snow Patrol can drone out their turgid rubbish alongside the combined talents of swingbeat nobody Jason Derulo (if it doesn't have "woke up this morning" lyrics and a guitar-driven sound I'll never call it R&B) and Boyce Avenue (no, me neither). This being Belfast of course there isn't a venue big enough for the whole shebang to happen at so instead it is to be carved up between riverside eyesore the Odyssey Arena and tiny Masonic HQ and Ulster Resistance birthplace the Ulster Hall. So if you have paid all that money to attend in the hope of seeing Snow Patrol, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers and LMFAO then I'm afraid you're out of luck as crummy little Belfast can't accommodate all that world class "talent" under one roof. Of course it will be the sanitised, ultra modern "Titanic Quarter" Belfast that they all see but wouldn't it be great if they all got lost along the way and little poppets like Selena Gomez, Hayden Panettiere and Nicole Polizzi were forced to familiarise themselves with the delights of such beauty spots as the Springfield-Woodvale peace line, picturesque Glenbank or even the breathtaking majesty of Lanark Way. Either way do it as the world will never be able to go on until it can be conclusively determined how long Justin Bieber could survive in the Mount Vernon estate before finally suffocating under the combined weight of three hundred head of Lowwood Primary School heifers. Oh and if the organisers do decide to go with my suggestion and comically disperse them all to the four corners of the metropolis then kindly carry on up the Ormeau Road before dropping off Amy Lee as I'm sure I could find some room for her. Rather.

I mean really what will it be next, the Oscars come to Dungannon?! I ask you.
keresaspa: (Scrubber Daley)
Message to the wonderful Mr. Cameron - if you think that the peacelines should come down then I say why don't you come over and do it and whilst you're at it get yourself a little house at the reopened Northumberland Street. I'm sure the hoods from the Shankill and Falls would be happy to set their differences aside in order to unite to knock your pan in. Heck, even the Continuity IRA and the Red Hand Defenders might be friends for that day. There's no doubt about it, the peacelines are a bloody nuisance. Sometimes when I'm on the Falls I would love to take a stroll up Conway Street and stop in for half a shandy at the Berlin Arms and it would be wonderful to be able to saunter from Upper to Lower Ardoyne without having to endure the dubious delights of lower Ballysillan but the fact remains that interfaces like these are much too dangerous for the residents to be left open and it's not Dave's arse, nor those of Robin$on and McGuinne$$, that are on the line here. Having taken Lanark Way from the Woodvale to the Springfield and braved the dubious pleasures of leaving the Highfield estate to get to New Barnsley via Springmartin Road I can assure the Tory blow-in that these interfaces are about as hairy as they come and even they have gates for when things get too dodgy. Opening the small streets that are kept apart by the walls on the other hand would just be inviting nightly riots as the hoods would only need to leave their front door to find their targets. Still if he wants to go and present his arguments at some delightful interface hostelry like the Highfield Rangers Club or Caulfield's then I'm sure he would find the welcome warm. Or if not the welcome certainly the petrol bombs being hurled after him. Besides if they opened Cluan Place where would the Thornlie Boys be able to pose like a couple of bald simpletons? Pretend as the elite might that the Troubles are over and everybody is friends now the same problems are as ripe on the ground as they ever were so alas for now the walls are a necessary evil and Cameron coming over laying down the law does not help. And am I the only one wondering how the former Quartermaster of the Provisional IRA could stand beside a cuts-hungry bastard like Cameron and grin like a ninny when he should have been wasting the biatch? Oh that's right, the money, I forgot. The principles of republicanism are one thing but they don't pay the bills like all that lovely British wonga, do they Mart?
keresaspa: (L7)
Well, it begins again as the overload of Christmas songs strikes in every shop and on every TV and radio station. A week or two ago I sat down and listened to the Pogues best of and managed to convince myself that I once again actually liked "The Fairytale of New York" but alas that has now evaporated as I am sick of hearing the bloody thing. Same goes for Wham's "Last Christmas" which, although I have only heard once, I am pig sick off. I can't say I really grasp the point of the stock soundtrack to Christmas. I suppose it has something to do with the creation of a manufactured sense of joy that dominates this time of year but surely all right-thinking human beings must share my sense of being fed-up with the same old round of songs. On the other hand I suppose some people may enjoy one or two of them but if that is the case why can you only listen to them at a certain time of year? You wouldn't say to yourself "I love the Beach Boys but it's January so I can't listen to their songs as they often have the word summer in them", now would you?

And one final note on this point before I put my humbug hat away for another while - "Stay Another Day" by East 17 is not a Christmas song. Its connection to Christmas seems to be based on two things:
(1) it was number one at Christmas. Fine, but on that basis why don't we hear Conway Twitty's "It's Only Make Believe", Tom Jones' "Green Green Grass of Home" or Jackie Wilson's "Reet Petite" ad nauseam at this time of year?
(2) it has bells in it. Fine, I therefore call on Mayhem to re-record "Pure Fucking Armageddon" with a backing track of jingle bells and it too can be considered a Christmas song.

Please, make it end.
keresaspa: (Buster Keaton)
I'm going to talk about the England football team now, so if football is a mystery to you then there's no need to read on. Anyway, the modern notion of reconstruction has a lot to answer for. I refer to this poll about people from the rest of the British Isles supporting England. The Welsh bit doesn't surprise me as, outside of a handful of die-hards, they have always known their place. But the other two. There's always been a current of England backing amongst the middle class Unionists over here but 76%?! Those figures look decidedly untrustworthy to me. But 67% of Scots? Come on! Bring back the Rous Cup and give these people a bit of perspective. The boys that tore Wembley apart in 1977 will be turning in their graves/gaol cells/Argentine haciendas.

Talking of the England team I see that terminal bores Embrace, those of 'Come Back to What You Know', 'All You Good, Good People' and other equally soporific crap, are to record the official World Cup song. Talk about going out with a bang! Like those whiny has-beens could write a song to rival the all-time England classic "This Time". Hey, it had a kazoo solo. Anyone who remembers the depressing horror of Del Amitri's 'Don't Come Home Too Soon' that sent Scotland off to failure at the World Cup in France will see a familiar pattern here. Football songs, in themselves a bad idea, should always be up-beat and have a bit of kick to them. Whiny indie is not the way to go.

Anyroad, enough rhyming from me as I have stuff to be doing elsewhere. TTFN.

Fairuz

Mar. 16th, 2006 03:08 pm
keresaspa: (Shakuni (Gufi Paintal))
Those who lack an appreciation for the music of Araby will think my auld head's cut (to use the vernacular) but I really do enjoy the music of Fairuz. The finest thing to come out of Lebanon since Organisation de l'Action Communiste du Liban really deserves as big an audience in the West as in the Middle East. I find myself listening to more world music as of late. Must be a sign of something. God only knows what, mind you.

Caught some of that West Ham-Bolton match last night. Not a bad game although the outcome was unsatisfactory. I never had any feeling about Alan Pardew but his constant bleating about the soul of English football and related crap has turned me right off him. So Arsenal fielded a team with no English players. So shite! Liverpool did the same in the 80s and nobody cared. OK, so they were mostly British but that still didn't help the England team in any way and the English league doesn't exist for the Scotland, Wales and Irish teams. As Wenger quite rightly said it's not Arsenal's job to represent England, that's down to the England team. Any clubs job is to be as successful as possible and if they do that by signing non-English players then so be it. If you ask me (and nobody did, but everybody else has had a go at this) Pardew is just sour-graping it because he never won any England caps and his name has not been mentioned to succeed naughty Sven.

Speaking of blind nationalism, it's St Patrick's Day tomorrow. Big fizz! It's a day when all the biggest tosser fenians go out, get lashed and cause trouble. If the PC, lets copy South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission even though Northern Ireland is nowhere near being settled, get their way then soon you can add the biggest tosser Protestants to that list. I'll be doing my usual and staying well away from the lot of it. Parades of pillocks in the town or titheads in green-white and orange hats going to free gigs by the Bodyrockers (I ask you, the f*cking Bodyrockers??!!!!) then wrecking every pub in Belfast are not for me, thank you.

Well, that's today's dose of fun and frolics. I may do a bit of work later, although there's every chance that I won't.
keresaspa: (Mrs Mack)
Hallowe'en. Yuck. What a pointless time of year this really is. I have no desire to dress like a pillock, nor do I have any desire to throw money at people just because they have chosen to do so, and I sure as heck don't want to be jumping out of my skin because some spides are pleased by loud noises and flashes of light in the sky. Killjoy or what? Actually even when I was a nipper I took little pleasure in the annual farce. I can remember dressing up and going round begging only twice and even then I didn't feel right about it. Fireworks have never interested me either as there's something terribly lowest common denominator about them. I'm not a mung bean eating 'they scare dogs' type, I just find no pleasure in loudness for its own sake. Plus when people come to my door expecting money just because they are wearing a Scream mask under their hooded tops I feel I really should be reaching for my Turkish cavalry sabre and driving the little hoods away rather than firing them off a handful of change (which they wont be satisfied with anyway). If money is that important let these nippers sign on the dole and keep them out of my hair.

Speaking as I briefly did about the craze for hooded tracktops I was amazed (no scrub that it's Tony B. Liar and his Populism Carnivale we're talking about here) to see a bizarre little 'chavier than thou' senga by the name of Lady Sovereign turning up at 10 Downing Street and being allowed in to launch a 'Save the Hoodie' campaign. I can only hope that said 'lady' (and the term could not be used more loosely) is a bull-shitting stage-school brat seeking some cheap publicity for her woeful attempts at 'urban' music (which appears to suggests that all non-rap and swingbeat (for I refuse to use the term R and B for anyone who doesn't have a Muddy Waters dimension) comes from the wilds of Cromarty or something). If this is actually being taken seriously then I despair of this country. It is only an article of clothing, people! The witch hunt against them is a little OTT but reaction to it is similarly ridiculous. Think outside the box, youth and today, and stop tying yourselves to fashion-dictated uniforms. I have never worn a hooded tracktop in my life and I'm perfectly fine.

Apologies if that all came across as a bit Daily Mail but I sometimes despair of the youth of today. And relax.
keresaspa: (Demis Roussos)
Sinuses aching. Throat like sandpaper. Anxiety filled night. I thought I had avoided the flu this year but by the feels of the old joints it's landed in Keresaspatown and is ready to do it's dirty business. That bunged up sensation has gripped me and the usual first sign (being unable to taste my smokes) is here with a bang. Just what I pissing need. With any luck it'll be a quickie but given my past history with things like this it'll probably go on for ages. Bum!

Fair play to O'Sullivan, he wiped the floor with John Higgins in the Masters final. Still I had wanted old Higgy to win and with the Old Firm drubbing it just made things complete.

I'll end today's ramblings with Hunter S Thompson's finest pearl of wisdom: "No man is so foolish but he may sometimes give another good counsel, and no man so wise that he may not easily err if he takes no other counsel than his own. He that is taught only by himself has a fool for a master". RIP you old nutcase.

EDIT: Saw this over on [livejournal.com profile] fluffmitten and was compelled to steal.

"This is a list of the 50 Worst Songs of All Time, as put together by the hip magazine Blender. Your task, if you choose to accept it, is to bold the items that you actually like. This might be more embarrassing than you think. Remember, no one is reading this. Well, no one of importance... "

Alternatively, italicise those that would fuel your very own murderous rampage.


Dont know half of them )
keresaspa: (Cassidy says...)
So I didn't get to see the honcho on Tuesday thus I e-mailed him telling him specifically to be there on Thursday. Wouldn't you know it, when I went he wasn't there. I've now to wait on him answering a second e-mail and then boot round as soon as he does. Wanker!!

I swiped this meme from [livejournal.com profile] vulcanlolita. Essentially it is a list of the worst ever British hit singles. Bold the ones you don't mind, underline the ones you really hate and put in italics the ones you don't know. And so...

Here it is )

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