Spread the word

Fig. 1: Motley Crabb

Found this wiki on "How to persuade an atheist to become Christian", which details how to turn those vile, logical people into God-fearing puppets who don't question anything. My personal favourite, which is word for word:

• As strange as it may sound, Christian music is actually a very powerful weapon when dealing with atheists. Music moves people in ways that words often cannot- introduce your friend to Christian music of any kind, you may be surprised how much it will do.

Yes, a fine belt of glass-half-full advice when dealing with heathens: 4HIM, Christafari, NuWine, The Crabb Family, Jordan's Crossing and (YES!!! YOU WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG) Sixpence none the Richer will instill a Godly joy into even the most bitter of heretics.

So go on, give it a shot - next time you're on the 79 bus to Clondalkin and you see a scruffy young thing in a Kappa shiny, lend him your iPod and a Crabb Family tune. Believe me, you will be suprised at how much it will do...

Best. News. Ever

It's over. Not immediately unfortunately, but in 2009 the ginger overlord will finally stop making shit music. "I've kind of decided that the 25 years is going to be enough," he says. I couldn't agree more.

In honour of this momentous occasion, here's two of the rabbit-lover's greatest hits:

Bunny's too tight to mention

Holding back the ears

A well reported fact is that Mick Hucknall was one of thirty-odd people who saw the Sex Pistols play in the Lesser Free Trade Hall in Manchester in 1976 - widely regarded as the most influential British gig of all time. That group of onlookers were so inspired that Joy Division, The Fall, The Smiths and The Buzzcocks were formed. Oh yeah, and the little know record company Factory Records.

To think that fuckwit was there too and somehow thought "saxophones, old style R&B and crooning, that's the future". Why couldn't he have caught a cold or got food poisoning and not went, and not thought about music, and instead stayed in his shitty little house in Denton (part of Manchester) and kept his shitty little lyrics to himself?

Ironic for Hucknall to come from Denton, as it was originally a significant centre for hat manufacturing...

"Ordinary Christians"

Some bunch of nutters have barricaded themselves into a cave in Western Russia, apparently awaiting another end-of-the-world scenario. They've armed themselves with explosives and a gas tank, and will commit suicide if the cops try to intervene. Yeah that should scare off the authorities...they're Russian. Does Beslan ring a bell? What about that theater in Moscow?

The end of the world is going to happen sometime next May by the way. So for some reason the bossman decided that they should spend all winter in a cave in sub-zero temperatures. As with all religious leaders, their spiritual guide Pyotr Kuznetsov is leading by example and not living in the cave. This legend was diagnosed with schizophrenia and has been sleeping in a coffin for the last few months. Now that's a guy who's hands you want to put your life in.

The reports from Russian media are fantastic - it's hard to know whats true as they heavily censor media and they are a nation of crazies, but there are some classic quotes. "They are ordinary Christians, they just don't accept tax numbers and passports" said Father Georgy, the local priest. Well it's hardly worth killing yourself and a bunch of kids over it, is it? Apparently a lot of people in Russia have refused their new identification numbers as they contain "satanic combinations of numbers" - yeah it's called a taxable identity. Welcome to the west.

As usual with the Russian authorities, useful information is at a premium: "Their supplies include half a ton of honey and a lot of jam," says Alevtina Volchkova, chief prosecutor of Bekovsky district. And we all know what those sick bastards could do with honey and jam... feel free to pun away about sticky situations and the like, but I'm so above that.

My favourite though is this nugget: "Attempts to coax them out of the cave or at least to release the children have been unsuccessful as the sect members have taken a vow of silence". Brilliant. Creating your own Catch-22. Maybe that should read .22 ...

Well I guess they've tried the politically correct way of police negotiations, it's probably not too long before we see the more 'explosive' style of negotiation that the Russian army prides herself in.

Game Over.

Nothing is sacred

It's surely gone too far now. I was able to deal with following:

• The A&E waiting times
• The overcrowded hospitals
  
• The overcrowded prisons
• The third-rate communications infrastructure
• The third-rate transport infrastructure
• The gross overspending
• The wearing of yellow trousers at G8 summits
• The undelivered election promises
• The Millenium Spire not being built in time
• The Millenium clock being a criminal waste of money
• The LUAS not being connected
• The e-voting machines that are unused and still costing us money
• The pay rises
• The budget cuts
• The stamp duty that I paid last year as a first time buyer
• The Garda corruption
  
• The endless tribunals
• The cover ups at tribunals

But this, news that a government official 'advised' RTE to not let Professor James Crown (one of the more outspoken critics of the health service) appear on the Late Late on Saturday night amounts to state censorship. It is too far. The rest of the above can be explained away as results of what happens when you let a bunch of muppets take the reigns of a country. Add censorship to the mix and we are now no better than North Korea, Belarus or a whole hose of other poxy countries, run by despots running under the flag of communism and promise of lots of square buildings. Atleast we don't have any square buildings...

Now I'm all about bands that test you. Bands that push the envelope, be it lyrically or musically. Bands that grab inspiration from genres that have seen their day (are you listening emo?) and mash them about to create newer, rawer sounds. Case and point: Faith No More, Led Zeppelin, Leftfield, Go! Team etc etc.

What I'm not about is bands that sound like they don't know each other, and recorded each of their pieces secretly. Their "sound" reminds me of that kids game where four kids each draw part of someones body without seeing eachothers picture. It always looks shit. I'm not about bands that sound like they're trying real fucking hard to be the next big thing and are so far up their own arses that they can't hear that what they're recording is turgid shite. Case and point: Bloc Party.

The nicest word I can use to describe the feeling I get when i hear them is "bored". Honestly, what a bunch of self-appreciating postgraduate smugosapiens. They're no more dramatic, insightful, or intellectual than the writers from Dawson's Creek - just some bunch of knobs who own a thesaurus and got christmas presents of instruments from parents that were guilty for sending them to boarding school. Like look at the picture; you'd have more fun with that other mopey tit Morrisey.

So go see Of Montreal on December 8th in the music centre (now called Button Factory, but I won't call it that because it's a ridiculous name for a venue).

Rugby: A sport for hard men

I really like rugby. It's a winner sport - big hits, complex plays, passion and sheer physicality. Plus every now and then something like this happens...

Stade Francais are a quality team, and my favourites for the European Cup. Animal team, full of top French, Argentine and Italian internationals. The thing is is that their a Parisien team, and the south is the traditional bastion of French rugby. The southern French rugby player is basically a sweaty, toothless, half-peasant half-athlete French culchie. So they always view Paris as Irish culchies view Dublin: a dirty place full of homosexuals.

So some Parisien marketer thought what better way to make our team stand out than wrap them in hi-glow pink skintight jerseys. This interesting take on the rugby kit has more in common with the Tour de France than top tier rugby (ironically enough cycling is the darling sport of Paris). That's been the way for some time now, and they've just released the 2007/2008 version:







Pretty risqué, no? Now what I noticed immediately was this poor guy's expression. He doesn't look to happy, does he? I might hazard a guess that although a Stade Francais player he's not Parisien, and therefore not comfortable with the idea of lying at the bottom of a ruck in that getup.












Apparently it's not seen as cutting edge anymore, as they've been wairing pink kits for a while now and therefore feel like smacking kit design firmly into the noughties. Enter the homage to Magnum PI and Hunter S. Thompson's lovechild: THE BRAND SPANKING NEW HOME STRIP:







Now doesn't he look a lot happier? Same dude, different strip, happier footballer. Still though, it must be difficult sometimes having to wear any of those kits. It's bad losing a big game, but if you've to go back into the dressingroom after and sit there thinking "not only do I feel like shit for losing, I look like a Dutch sex tourist on holidays in the Phillipines"...

I can't stop laughing

Oooh spooky

Came across this apparent proof of the existence of ghosts. It's a very famous, widely-referenced, and utterly ridiculous photo which shows a "ghostly figure" rising from the ground, apparently wielding a knife. Or to my eyes some guy kneeling among the bushes taking a shit. What makes it even more hilarious is the testimony of the photographer:

"We had it developed at Thrifty Drug Store and I know no one tampered with it."

Good enough for me.

Dads: real men

I saw that story that 1/3 of Irish men own a hair straightener this week, and mentioned the story to my old man knowing full well I'd get some smartarse remark out of him about metrosexuals

"What's a hair straightener?" he says.

Classic. That's about the most manly thing I've ever heard, and easily funnier than any jibe he could have come up with. If he knew what a hair straightener was.

What next: sexiest man in Ireland?

Ireland's very own personal fund manager Brian Cowen (pictured left, hanging tight with his old homie Arafat) has turned up in the lastest MRBI poll as Ireland' most popular politician. Even more than Bertie.

Than Bertie.

Bertie!!

Now I know that Fianna Fail have it all planned out for the Bull to take the reigns (ironic, no?) post Bertie, but I bet he's going fucking mental up in Drumcondra. He escaped Bertiegate parts 1 and 2, and how many other controversies over the last 10 years, and finally is falling to a guy who lets be honest looks like someone's been hitting him in the face with a bar of soap inside a towel. Swollen, not bruised.