Live at Reading '92

Fuck. Yeah.

JB.

Tunes Currently Sizzling My Schnitzel

1) Poor Boy - Blind Pilot

2) Charlie Brown - Coldplay

3) Sex Prayer - White Denim

4) Guillotine (Swords) - Raekwon

5) Daughter - Pearl Jam

6) Tuesday Heartbreak - Stevie Wonder

7) Let It Loose - The Rolling Stones

8) Caroline, No - The Beach Boys

9) English House - Fleet Foxes

10) I Can't Make You Love Me - Bon Iver

Enjoy,

JB.

Great Reads: 'The Game' by Neil Strauss

Now, I will fully admit that when I first heard about the existence of this book my reaction was "you could not pay me to read that shite"...or words to that effect. Every single time I've seen one of these dating doctors claiming to be the worlds greatest "sultan of snatch" "prince of pussy" or whatever ridiculous moniker they come up with for themselves, I want to vomit until it was all a distant memory.

However, I then stumbled upon an interview with Neil Strauss - this book's author - and saw that he claimed to be none of these things. He was literally a nice, little, bald, average man who happened to be able to get any girl he wanted. I was intrigued enough to go out and make a purchase.

There is no way I can tell this story without mentioning the actual purchase of this book itself. I went in Barnes and Noble, looked it up in the computer, and followed directions. However, as I cringed through the "Self Help/Dating" section I found no sign of this book. I asked a girl who worked there. She led me to the "Self Help/Sex" section of the shop. More cringing ensued. However, still it wasn't there. Was this a mythical phantom book? Were they simply out of stock? No, the answer was that they were unable to stack it on shelves as too many people stole it or sat in the store reading it. I would have to ask at the counter.

So, I mumbled under my breath something like "Yes, apparently you have a book called 'The Game'? Or something, I dunno. It's for my non-existent brother". Despite my embarrassed grumblings, the bloke knew what I was talking about and brought back the gaudiest monstrosity I have seen. A black, leather-bound, bible, complete with gold-trim pages and a red page sach (see right).

I was mortified.

Now, all this led me to believe that as a single man I had reached a new low. Actually reading this thing, apparently stuffed full of expert advice of how to "pick-up chicks, brah" surely meant I had become everything I despise? However, I delved in and within two pages I was sold. Thus followed one of the more interesting reads I've had in a long time. Rather than some knobhead blathering on about how many women he's slept with and how genius his techniques are, Strauss opened with a cautionary flash-forward to the end of the story, where his mentor (the supposed greatest pickup artist in the world) had lost it after being dumped and Strauss had to do what all good friends do in these instances, get him to a hospital and sort him out.

The story then begins and what follows is a true underdog story about a man who went from never getting any girl he wanted (even after touring with Motley Crue....for a year!) to becoming Style - the world's #1 pickup artist. Beginning with a foray into a mysterious online world, then signing up for a 'seminar' with a mythical girl-pulling legend, to devouring information from every guru the world had to offer until he found himself so entrenched in this odd little existence that his entire life became consumed by it.

You might expect the whole thing to reek of misogyny and despair, and it does in part (largely due to the lingo they use - which is in equal part hilarious and deplorable), however what I liked about the whole thing was that rather than trying to be a "How to..." guide, it in fact told the story of a bunch of sweet, frustrated geeks trying to seek out the validation they so desperately lacked in their formative years. Strauss himself writes with such heart and compassion for all of these characters that it truly becomes less a story about shagging and more a story about friendship, loyalty and, ultimately, that existential void that all of us, on some level, are trying to fill.

It is hilarious (particularly the story involving the porcelain twinZ). It is an interesting peek into the human mind, and most of all it is surprisingly touching. Thus proving my theory that deep down, us men are all the same. And nothing will reveal that quicker than the right (or wrong) girl coming your way.

So if you fancy a delve into the stranger side of the human psyche, give this a whirl....just be prepared never to take it out in public.

"How do you kiss a girl? The distance between you and her is just three inches. It's not a long stretch, by any standard. You barely even have to move your body to bridge the gap. Yet it is the most difficult three inches a man had to move in his life. It is the moment when he must concede all the priveliges that are his birthright; put his pride, ego, esteem and hard work aside; and just hope - hope that the she doesn't deflect it with her cheek or, even worse, the let's-just-be-friends speech." (Page 75)

Peace and love,

JB.

Man vs. Greggs Bag

In the battle for human dignity, who will emerge victorious?

I think the faint, girlish yelp tells us all.

JB

The Twisted Logic of The Christian...

This video disgusts me on many levels. One, Rick Perry is one of the most ignorant, intolerant halfwits I've ever had the displeasure of laying eyes on. Two, since when are kids not allowed to celebrate Christmas? Three, what has all of this got to do with homosexuals taking bullets precisely so you can make videos like this?...you absolute cock. Four, if Christianity is indeed what they say it is and Jesus exists, and God exists etc. I'm pretty sure they both think you're a twat. May I suggest a long, comfortable acid bath to sit and reflect on your actions.

Rant over.

JB.

Absurd Rap Lyrics #3672

"Before I buck lead, cause a lot of bloodshed

Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke got enough bread

And mad hoes, ask Beavis I get nuthin' but head."

Big L - Freestyle '98

Given To Fly

If I could sing like this, I'd probably never talk.

JB

Great British Comedy: Father Ted

I would love to have been in the pitch meeting for this one. "Okay guys, it's a sitcom about three catholic priests and a tea-lady living on a near-deserted island in the Irish Sea"....cue baffled silence.

However, in my book, "Father Ted" is one of the greatest comedies to ever come out of my fair shores. Yes, it's about three catholic priests but not as you might think. Ted (of the title) is the over-ambitious underacheiver, constantly pitting his wits against the world and failing miserably; Dougal is the idiot-savant without the savant and Jack is a raging, festering alcoholic whose only dialogue is usually four-lettered filth. And then there's Mrs. Doyle, brilliantly played by Pauline McLynn, a woman whose sole mission in life is to serve tea and serve it well.

All of the main characters are obviously hilarious. However it is in the peripheral characters where real comedy delights lie. Most of them priests. All of them extremely dysfunctional. All of them hilarious. Including Father Dick Byrne - the bain of Ted's existence, Father Finton Stack - A rude, bigoted thug obsessed with Drum n' Bass music, Father Noel Furlong - A raging homosexual (in denial) played by Graham Norton, Father Austin Purcell - the "most boring priest in the world", Father Romeo Sensini - all-time leading scorer in the Craggy Island over 75's 5-a-side football tournament....the list goes on and on and on.

All of this adds up to one thing, an absolutely feckin' hilarious comedy that I don't think I'll ever tire of watching. The scene in which several priests get stuck in the lingerie section of a department store alone is one of the greatest things ever written. Plus you just can't go wrong with episode titles such as "Cigarettes, Alcohol and Rollerblading" and "Kicking Bishop Brennan up the Arse".

Sadly the whole thing is now semi-laced with sadness due to the untimely passing of Dermot Morgan. However, thankfully, his brilliant performances live on.

Peace,

John.

Hiding Tonight

Feeling this one today.

Peace,

John.

Truth Be Told

Well folks, here it is. My first official film. I take this as a lesson in what can be achieved with no money, some talented friends and a boatload of elbow grease. Enjoy:

JB.

Some Midweek Hilarity

Steve Coogan's "Richard Gere" is spot on. Enjoy...

JB.

Making Movies

Finally the dust settles, the dawn rises and I am back on a regular sleeping schedule. The end result of which is that I have my second (however, as I quickly found out, really my first) film "in the can"....well, for the most part at least. The entire process has been nothing short of the most knackering, stressful, exhilarating and ultimately rewarding times I've had on this planet and not without many, many lessons along the way.

It begins of course with pre-production. A nightmare from start to finish. Made especially more arduous when taking on the role of writer, director, actor, producer, casting director and, in this case, production designer (not my forte, friends, let me tell you). So after months of assembling a crew, then seeing almost every British actor in Los Angeles, and spending hours upon hours trawling through mega-malls wondering "what would a psychotic girlfriend's bedroom look like?" it was finally time to begin shooting.

Now, as previously mentioned, I had shot a film prior to this. However that effort, valiant as I believe it was, matters not one bit when all of a sudden you're at the helm of a 12-man crew working in an extremely tight borrowed location on a shoestring budget with the clock ticking ominously against you the entire time. Essentially this is the time to shit your pants, dive in and swim. Within hours, we were already hours behind schedule. Things were not going as planned. My stress levels were only heightened when we managed to fall even further behind schedule after lunch. I could almost feel the weight of the world sitting directly on my chest, like a playground bully, teasing, gloating at me "you're ballsing this up, big nose".

So of course after a day of keeping everyone behind for two hours more than they were paid to do, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Suffice to say that not a moment's rest was had. And I do mean literally....not one second of sleep occurred that night.

The saving grace of our first day of shooting was the absolute joy I felt watching our actors go to work. At the risk of gushing, it's moments like that which make it all worth while. Moments where not only does the drivel that you wrote come alive, but it actually has a beating heart right at the centre of it, for all to see. This may seem like the ramblings of a mad man to an outsider, but being part of it is something I'll cherish forever and, in the grand scheme of things that make me smile, is quite a feeling to behold.

So after fretting around my house all night it was on to Day 2. Something had to give...otherwise we were just simply not going to get all the footage I need and I'd be left with no film and rifle at the ready. So, we went to work, and went to work quick. I referred back to the old Robert Rodriguez style of shooting, which I'm pretty sure gave our lighting crew a semi-heart attack, and we began regaining our schedule back at some pace. I could barely breathe it was all moving so fast. However, at the end of it all, I had my film (save one scene which was just one step too far for that weekend). We wrapped our production at 10pm, by which time I had been awake for some fifty-odd hours. However the fun was not over yet. I now had the task of cleaning the apartment we were graciously lent. An act which took me through to 5am. The highlight of that time being, in a state of extreme exhaustion, locking my car keys in the boot and having to call someone out to break into my vehicle. Oh the hilarity.

All in all, things went well. Of course it didn't go to plan, these things never seem to, but what I learned in those two days is almost unquantifiable (if that's a word?) and the colossal wave of creative satisfaction one feels when reaching the end of the road is simply the greatest thing I've experienced. Now comes the task of shooting any pick-ups we need (mostly minor inserts, or 'show-off' shots) and getting our last scene in the bag. Then of course comes the editing, promoting, dealing with sound issues etc etc etc.

However, when all is said and done, the entire thing was beyond my wildest expectations and, for all the rambling I seem to be doing here, I honestly couldn't begin to find the appropriate words to express my gratitude to everyone involved.

Much love,

John.

Lyrics To Live By:

"But I learned fast how to keep my head up

'Cos I know I got this side of me

that wants to grab the yoke from the pilot

and just fly the whole mess into the sea"

"Young Pilgrims" by The Shins

A quick check-in...

When driving back from San Francisco, I almost got pulled over for singing this song a bit too aggressively out of my window. I suggest you all try it sometime:

Shooting a film this weekend. On Monday I will have a full and frank report (so sit tight Ad and Dan).

Peace,

Juan.

Dialogue of the Day

"Is it so terribly inconceivable to comprehend God with one's senses? Why does he hide in a cloud of half-promises and unseen miracles? How can we believe in the faithful when we lack faith? What will happen to us who want to believe, but cannot? What about those who neither want to nor can believe? Why can't I kill God in me? Why does he live on in me in a humiliating way - despite my wanting to evict Him from my heart? Why is He, despite all, a mocking reality I can't be rid of?"

From Ingmar Bergman's "The Seventh Seal" (1957)

Back

After weeks of national, and indeed global, unrest - culminating in rioting, occupying of neighbourhoods and general disarray (see below pic) - I have finally caved in and written a new blog post. This madness must end.

Right, so I've been awfully busy lately. Firstly, I managed to snag my first ever national TV commercial. As seems to be the case in this industry, I ended up reading for about four different parts before finally getting the call putting me "on avail". If there is more pointless exercise than being put on avail, then I've yet to find it. In essence, you have "passed" the audition phase of the process, but haven't booked the job. In fact, apparently, the chances are that you haven't booked the job. Now I'm no expert but I think I see a way around this problem...hows about you just call when I have booked the f**king job and we'll eradicate the three days I'll spend pacing around gnawing at my fingernails. Everyone's happy.

Anyway, as luck would have it, I did in this case get the job. Muchos celebratos. As for the shoot itself, it was fantastic. Got to shoot for two entire days with a colossal crew, the size of which I never thought I'd see. All lovely, lovely people too. Day one consisted solely of us knobbing around on a golf course, vaguely aware that somewhere a camera was rolling. Marvelous fun. Day two consisted of much the same, but in a swanky Century City hotel. All in all it was a fabulous experience. The only downside being that I was dressed like an absolute pillock throughout the shoot, including a truly shite pair of glasses which were far too small for my face. However, I care about that not one bit. All part of the job isn't it. Speaking of which, we're not home and dry yet as far as getting paid goes. There is of course the chance that this thing will air, and air lots, and air for a long time and become a career boosting cash-cow for moi. By the same token, it could never air and I'll be as destitute as before. Fingers crossed for the former my friends. Fingers crossed.

The other thing keeping me busier than a fly's gag reflex is my second short film. For this one I have decided to actually hire a crew, actors and locations etc. By which I mean, we're trying to make an actual film, as opposed to me running around with a camera in one hand, boom mic in the other. Early on in the process I decided not to hire a producer. What a mistake. Because friends, I have been doing the producing side of things, as well as location scouting, as well as art direction, as well as casting, and frankly, it's a bloody lot of work. Not that I mind...I'd rather work all hours of the day doing something I love than spend 10 minutes back in 'construction management'...it's just a wee bit stressful. Still, I have now managed to assemble a crack team of talented individuals and I'm convinced this should be a good little flick. Of course the problem with these things is you never know until you've actually done it. A thought that keeps me awake, terrified to my very core, almost every night. There's already been plenty of problems along the way, however we're now locked in to shoot on the weekend of the 19th-20th November so watch this space for further updates on my gradual, some might say inevitable, meltdown.

I'm sure I've been doing more stuff but I can't think what off the top of my head. I'll give you a quick rundown. I almost adopted a kitten. I saw the Exorcist for the first time and absolutely loved it. Held some truly memorable auditions for my project. Made a prize tit of myself more times than usual. Creeped out everyone I came across on Halloween. Got my feature-length script read by the BBC. Danced with death. Saved a species. Explored my own body in new, varied and interesting ways, oh and tried chocolate sushi for the first time...it was orgasmic.

That brings us just about up to date. I suppose all that's left to say is a big sorry to all three (at official last count) of my fans for being away so long. I promise this blog will now be of upmost importance once again. Sort of.

Oh, and now that it's got all cold and dark and winter's closing in. Make yourself a cup of tea and have a watch of this. 'Twill warm the cockles of your heart...

Godspeed,

Juan.

For Some Reason...

...This makes me extremely happy.

Oh to put an audience through this myself one day.

JB

Tunes Currently Pulling My Plonker:

1) Little River - The Tallest Man On Earth

2) Chop Suey - System of a Down

3) So You're Leaving - Al Green

4) I Want The One I Can't Have - The Smiths

5) England - The National

6) Janglin - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros

7) Let's Roll Like We Used To - Kasabian

8) Because - The Beatles

9) Warning - The Notorious B.I.G.

10) Ball and Biscuit - The White Stripes

$5 Book Sale

I'm having a book sale. They are all 5 dollars unless otherwise noted. Most of them are in mint condition. I will note if they're not. In reading this through, I can't help wondering where on earth I found some of this sh*t.

Anyway, here is a complete list. Let me know which one(s) you want and I'll put them aside (the ones in Grey have already been claimed):

Fiction:

"The Road" - Cormac McCarthy

"Lullaby" - Chuck Palahniuk

"Trainspotting" - Irvine Welsh

"Marabou Stork Nightmares" - Irvine Welsh (bit scuffed on the cover)

"Naked Lunch" - William S. Burroughs

"Crime & Punishment" - Fydor Dostoyevsky

"Notes From The Underground" - Fydor Dostoyevsky - $3.00

"Catcher In The Rye" - J.D. Salinger

"American Tabloid" - James Ellroy - $3.00 (well worn but a great read)

"1984" - George Orwell

"The Trial" - Franz Kafka

"A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" - James Joyce - $3.00

"The Darwin Conspiracy" - John Darton

"The Long Goodbye" - Raymond Chandler

"On The Road" - Jack Kerouac

Non-Fiction (Paperback):

"Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" - Hunter S. Thompson

"Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72" - Hunter S. Thompson

"Mr. Nice" - Howard Marks

"Manufacturing Consent" - Noam Chomsky

"A Moveable Feast" - Ernest Hemmingway

"The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test" - Tom Wolfe

"Imagine This: Growing up with John Lennon" - Julia Baird

Non-Fiction (Hard Cover):

"The Libertines: Bound Together" - Anthony Thornton - $7.00

"Banksy: Wall and Piece" - Banksy

"Gonzo" - Hunter S. Thompson

"Wild Ducks Flying Backwards" - Tom Robbins

"Poetry" - Oscar Wilde - $3.00

"Dead Children Playing" - Stanley Donwood (This book is basically Radiohead artwork spanning 20 years. It's great)

Film/TV:

"Screenplay" - Syd Field

"Screenwriter's Marketing and Resource Directory" - Deidre Berry-Fortner

"Making a Good Script Great" - Linda Seger - $8.00 (Unopened)

"Standard Script Formats" - Cole/Haag

"Woody Allen on Woody Allen" - Stig Bjorkman

"Rebel Without A Crew" - Robert Rodriguez

"Making Movies" - Sidney Lumet

"Heath Ledger" - John McShane

"Film Directing Shot by Shot" - Steven D. Katz

Comedy:

"Love All The People" - Bill Hicks

"How to Talk Dirty and Influence People" - Lenny Bruce

"I Drink For A Reason" - David Cross

"The World of Karl Pilkington" - Ricky Gervais

"Booky Wook 2" - Russell Brand

"Frank Skinner" - Frank Skinner

Graphic Novels:

"The Dark Knight Returns" - Frank Miller

"Watchmen" - Alan Moore

Scripts/Plays etc:

"Rosencrantz & Guildernstern are Dead" - Tom Stobbard

"Reservoir Dogs" - Quentin Tarantino

"Good Will Hunting" - Matt Damon (possibly Ben Affleck)

"Uncle Vanya" - Anton Chekov - $2.00

Self-Help Type Stuff:

"Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" - John Gray, Ph.D.

"The Art of Happiness" - The Dalai Lama

"Meditations from Conversations with God" - Neale Donald Walsh

"A New Earth: Awakening Your Life's Purpose" - Eckhart Tolle

"The Virtue of Selfishness" - Ayn Rand

"365 Ways to Be Your Own Life Coach" - David Lawrence Preston

"The Kundalini Yoga Experience" - Guru Dharam S. Khalsa

JB

The Hilarious Truth...

JB.

Dialogue of the Day

"To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy, one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness...I hope you're getting all this down."

-- from "Love and Death" (1975)

Today

Is my birthday. I think this video is an accurate description of how my day will be spent...

Bloomin' hilarious!

JB

The Curmudgeon

"A curmudgeon's reputation for malevolence is undeserved. They're neither warped nor evil at heart. They don't hate mankind, just mankind's absurdities. They're just as sensitive and soft-hearted as the next guy, but they hide their vulnerability beneath a crust of misanthropy. They ease the pain by turning hurt into humor. They attack maudlinism because it devalues genuine sentiment. Nature, having failed to equip them with a servicable denial mechanism, has endowed them with astute perception and sly wit.

Curmudgeons are mockers and debunkers whose bitterness is a symptom rather than a disease. They can't compromise their standards and can't manage the suspension of disbelief necessary for feigned cheerfulness. Their awareness is a curse.

Perhaps curmudgeons have gotten a bad rap in the same way that the messenger is blamed for the message: They have the temerity to comment on the human condition without apology. They not only refuse to applaud mediocrity, they howl it down with morose glee. Their versions of the truth unsettle us, and we hold it against them, even though they soften it with humor."

-- Jon Winokur

Quote of the Day

"I'm really sick of those left-wing, conspiracy theory people. Who are all like 'Hey, isn't it weird how every time there's bad news for the Bush administration, the terror alert goes up? There's over eleven examples of it...' Listen, let me tell you something, it's called COINCIDENCE, okay? Look it up in the dictionary. It's a coincidence that it went up right after that French report saying Bush knew about 9/11. And it just happened to go up after a report stating there was absolutely no link between Osama and Saddam Hussein, it happened to go up when mad cow disease broke and the government might have been implicit in it, it happened to go up whenever Bush's ratings plummeted....it's called coincidence you f**king hippie freak. These guys are out there on their 'computers' compiling cold, hard, irrefutable facts? F**k those guys! Yeah, I'll see you at Burning Man, hippie"

David Cross - "It's Not Funny" (2004)

Things I Love: Lost In Translation

The first time I saw this film was a particularly lonely night in Madrid. A leg of my european tour in the winter of 2004 wherein I got there a day earlier than the people I was supposed to meet. What is one to do in such circumstances? Well, find an English speaking cinema (that serves beer, obviously) and settle in for the night.

And there's not many better films to watch in a state of isolation, stuck in a foreign land, than Lost In Translation. From the opening shot of Scarlett Johansson's barely covered arse (really, is there a better way to start a film?) I was sold. Bill Murray expertly embodies a lonely old famous person as only he can, and the unlikely story of two complete strangers sharing a random moment in time among a distant, completely Alien world - Tokyo in this case - struck a chord with me that I've been unable to shake since.

It is hilarious. As are most things with the mighty Murray because his face alone is enough to make anyone laugh. It is also romantic, despite the potentially creepy age difference between the two stars, and extremely poignant. There isn't much dialogue, not really much action, it's just a perfect encapsulation of two people in a certain place, at a certain time.

Expertly directed by Sophia Copolla, beautifully shot and featuring a great cast all the way down to the Japanese prossie urging Bill to "lip" her tights. This film is a lesson in not spoon-feeding a story to your audience and just letting things be. Marvelous.

It also makes me really want to go traveling again....sigh.

JB

More Funk

This is funking my world at the moment. So put it on and find something to grind with immediately.

JB

Celebrity Lookalike of the Day:

Eminem...

Tom Hanks in "Philadelphia"...
God, I'm bored.

Funky, Funky Sh*t

If this doesn't make you want to put on your sunglasses and strut, I don't know what will.

JB

An Open Letter:

Dear Hollywood,

Please, from the very bottom of my soul, stop re-making films from my youth. You are a town literally teeming with talent from all walks of life, all of whom with original stories to tell and all of whom I would wager can write a better film than the sodding "Wicker Man". There is no need to make sub-par versions of already great films you bunch of narrow thinking muppets!

It started (for me anyway) with The Karate Kid. Now, any kid my age growing up in the 80's rightly holds the original up as the quintessential, teenage, underdog 80's film; filled to the brim with memorable characters, a great story and a plethora of outstanding cheesy lines...."mercy is for the weak", "wax on, wax off" to name but a couple. Then you go and produce this absolute pile of gash featuring Will Smith's obnoxious, charmless little son and aging legend, Jackie Chan and don't even attempt to better the original. Indeed you just take a steaming hot poo on it's very soul. For what? A minor profit? Shame on you.

You are literally taking my childhood memories and raping them to within an inch of their life. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Total Recall, Point Break and now (so I've heard) Scarface???!!! Is nothing sacred to you people? What next? The Godfather, starring the cast of American Pie? Taxi Driver, starring Ashton Kutcher? I wouldn't mind but they're all bloody GREAT films. Surely that fact alone negates the need for a re-make.

So, for the love of all things good and holy, please stop this disturbing trend with immediate effect.

Yours,

A Disgruntled Fan (with a shit-hot script)

P.S. - no more superhero films either (except Batman, obviously)

The Biggest Douche In The Universe...

I don't really know how I stumbled across this video but it made me weep with laughter. Trey Parker and Matt Stone discuss one of their episodes featuring John Edward and Rob Schneider.



Derp derp de derrrrp!

John.

Tunes, Footie and The Meaning of Life

So, it's been quite an eventful week on these here shores. We finished the first series of our comedy show, which is good but now the real work comes with the painstaking process of re-writes. Always fun though.

Had my first car crash, which was nice. Knocked the glasses clean off my face and gave a brother a bit of the old whiplash, but the old warhorse fights on. Hun shrapnel in my arse couldn't stop me, the Nazi's couldn't hold me back, a small Korean man rear-ending me (hello sailor!) won't keep this battleaxe from grinding on I tells ya!

Also, went to a couple of noteworthy concerts. The first being the rather lovely sounding Fleet Foxes.



I have to admit that under different circumstances I might not have enjoyed the show as much as I did. All of their songs somehow got slowed down to elevator music speed on stage, which took away from the whole thing a bit. However, two factors helped. One, The Greek Theater being one of the best venues I've been to - up in the hills of Griffith Park, enclosed among trees, shrouded in moonlight, it felt like we had wandered into some sort of hipster Ewok Village...which was better than it sounds. Two, the people directly in front of us were healthily puffing away on some super-strength jamaican sensimilla and, after about 30 clouds of smoke surrounded my face, I was soon high as a kite, grinning away like a prize idiot.

The second concert was the equally lovely sounding Bon Iver at The Spreckels Theatre in San Diego. Now, I've seen this band twice before and they absolutely blew my socks off. This time was a more electric sounding experience but it was no less amazing. The only (very minor) gripe I had was that Justin Vernon's lyrics are, for the most part, complete and utter nonsense. Especially the new album. In fact I defy you to make sense of one sentence on that album. It's actually pretty funny. However, that matters not when everything else sounds as luscious as it did that night. So all in all it was a cracking experience and wouldn't you know it, I found a video of the night already posted on youtube. Enjoy:

Also this week saw the start of the footie season...for Spurs at least. After getting royally spanked for our first two games, the yid army has turned it round and marches on. The only problem is that, after back to back wins, I now fully expect us to win the league, the champions league (despite not being in it) and the FA Cup with style and panache. Oh the joys of sporting delusion.

As for the meaning of life. Well, I was driving along earlier this week, in a foul mood, stuck in ungodly amounts of traffic, feeling generally pissed off about any and all. Then all of a sudden I thought of a Bill Hicks joke about Rick Astley not having a penis, and I laughed until I cried. Therein, friends, lies the meaning of life.

Peace and Love,

John.

Tunes Currently Filling My Satchel

1) Wedding Bell - Beach House

2) In My Bed - Amy Winehouse

3) The Ecstasy of Gold - Ennio Morricone

4) The Girl From Back Then - Kings of Convenience

5) Freestyle (Yo, That's That Sh*t) - Diamond D

6) Let's Get Really Honest - Just Jack

7) The Rip Tide - Beirut

8) Information Age - Wiley

9) First Watch - King Creosote

10) Sweet Virginia - The Rolling Stones

Dialogue of the Day

"I would rather have my testicles spread wafer thin and then...sort of pasted with honey and then have wasps released at my own genitals. Then I'd like the resulting stings to be covered in vinegar and worn as a swimming cap by a nazi"

Outtake from Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008)

Reasons Life Is Worth Living (Part II)

Coffee. Louis Armstrong. A good smile. American Tabloid by James Ellroy. Bill Murray. Slow Motion. Getting it right. Getting it wrong. The Open Road. My Bed. Kelly Brook. Commando. Conspiracy Theories. Stanley Kubrick. "You Shall Not Pass". Gymnopedie #1. Acoustic Guitars. Irvine Welsh. Grand Piano. Catcher In The Rye. Words. Marion Cotillard's Oscar Speech. Total Silence. "Asspen". San Francisco at 7am. Home made Tacos. Toad In The Hole. Girls in Yoga Gear. Paul Thomas Anderson. The Truth. A well fitting T-Shirt. A Warm Ocean. A Good Haircut. Toffee Ice Cream. Darren Lamb. Mexico. A Good Set of Speakers. Air New Zealand. Leslie Nielsen. Inner Calm. El Mariachi. Chomsky. Language. Bread and Butter. South Park. On The Road by Jack Kerouac. David Brent. The Cuban Revolution. Pacino. A Well-Oiled Machine. A Good Photograph. The Voice of Reason. Scorcese. Rupert Pupkin. Hot Showers. Pitch Blackness. Space. Jim Morrison. Scent Memories. Ice Cold Stella. Lee Mack. The Sound of a Swish. Jack Lemmon. Florence. Latin Women. "Romulus" by Sufjan Stevens. An Airplane Landing. The first 25 minutes of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Joe Pesci. Maradona. Messi. Mabbutt. 1920's Paris. Pub Lunch. Dogs. Fresh Fruit. Heavy, Heavy Rain.

The Transfiguration:

So, this is probably the funniest video I've seen in a while. It's also an important lesson for anyone pursuing a career in the arts, so to speak. If this bloke can successfully come back from the absolute monstrosity he was in his younger days, then surely anything is possible.



I'm off to mack in the Jacuzzi with six fly hunnies. POW!

JB

Words From The Master...

"Ever since I was a child I have had this instinctive urge for expansion and growth. To me, the function and duty of a quality human being is the sincere and honest development of one's potential. If you always put a limit on everything you do, physical or anything else, it will spread into your work and into your life. There are no limits. There are only plateaus, and you must not stay there, you must go beyond them.

Now, I will kick your arse."

-- Bruce Lee

PS - He might not have said the last part.

Things I Love: Taxi Driver

Now, it is already a wee bit paradoxical to declare a love for a film about man essentially losing his mind and going on a bloody rampage. However, love it I do...and for so many reasons.

Firstly, it stars the genius that is Robert DeNiro giving the sort of performance that most people only ever dream of. After reading Paul Schrader's script, which is vastly different from the film I might add, DeNiro literally is Travis Bickle. Exactly as he was there on the page. Quite an amazing feat to behold.

Secondly, Martin Scorcese. The greatest director of all time, in my humble opinion. Again, after reading the script and seeing what he did with it, how he didn't win every award under the sun for directing for this masterpiece I will never know. There are too many memorable shots to mention but the final overhead of a quite epic crime scene is one of the greatest you'll ever see.

What I love most about this film is that it is probably the only first-person narrative that is completely unrelenting in it's portrayal of the main character. It's almost like a novel. You actually see the world through the eyes of one man and one man only. There is only one scene in the entire film which is not seen through his eyes. Travis' world is a desperate one, one which sees no hope in humanity, filled only with loneliness, isolation and despair. It is literally hell on earth. You want it to lighten up, you want to look away, get invloved in some of the other characters, but Scorcese does not flinch. Not once. For example, in the scene where Travis is at a coffee shop with his cabbie "friends". The way it's shot, acted, directed etc. shows a man who is there physically but he's obviously not really there at all. Indeed, there is a moment where the others share stories and Travis pops an alka seltzer into his water. Rather than join in the hilarity, we suddenly begin to disappear into that glass, with him. The fizzing sound takes over all conversations. It doesn't matter what they're saying, he can't hear it so nor do we. Brilliant.

Of course you can't mention this film without mentioning the score. Tense, schizophrenic, moody, scary. One minute it is smooth jazz saxophones, the next, the noise swells to uncomfortable levels of rage. Again, the perfect accompaniment to this story. Big up Bernard Hermann.

The only question that has remained about this film over the years is the ending. Is it a dream? Did Travis survive? Did he merely not get caught and is now, yet again, a ticking time-bomb? Who knows? I for one don't really care. Leaving things ambiguous makes it all the more interesting I think.

Yes, it's extremely violent. Yes, it is extremely nihilistic. Yes, it's unpleasant. And no, there is no real moral lesson. However, as a piece of cinematic history, and a commentary about society's underbelly, this film is utterly essential. They just don't make them like this any more. Michael Bay hang your head in shame.

"The clock spring cannot be wound continually tighter. As the earth moves towards the sun, Travis Bickle moves toward violence"

(from page 1 of the screenplay)

Peace,

John.

Epitaph...

Riding through the streets of San Francisco all morning. Fog rolling over the hills. Sun glistening off the bay. This song on repeat. Not a bad way to spend a day.



Peace.

Quote of the Day:

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"

Jack Kerouac - "On The Road" (1951)

Life...and Ting.

It's been a rather busy few weeks. Since I recently got hired to write a comedy web-series, with a very good friend of mine, it's been all go on the old creativity front.

Firstly, writing a web-series (at least writing one of any wit, style and/or substance) is bloody hard work! The idea for our series is terrific and the collective brainbox has been producing lots of good things, however while I would usually celebrate such an instance, in this case it is almost a hindrance. You see, making something funny, furthering a plot and developing characters - both central and periphory - is quite a difficult thing to accomplish in 5-6 minutes of screen time. You literally have no time for back story, no time for elaborate "twas a warm summer's eve, and Jennifer wandered the forests with a pondering expression in her eye" -style descriptions. It has so far been an absolute lesson in writing succinctly.

That said, my writing partner and I have no illusions as to the work involved and so far we've got something which I think could be really quite good. Definitely the potential for a sitcom...but I probably just sound like a delusional fool for saying that out loud. Plus, sitting around with a mate coming up with funny stuff all day ain't my idea of a bad gig. Kna'mean!

Also, for some unknown reason, I've been getting lots of auditions lately. All for commercials. All weird and wonderful in their own way.

As I may have mentioned on this blog before, the commercial business is a funny old one. Most of the time you go in not knowing what to expect. In fact the only thing you can be sure of is that you will make a complete tit of yourself, in one way or another. One minute you're being asked to fall asleep in front of a room full of people (true story - I had to do it twice), the next you're given a wife, a child and asked to improvise your honeymoon slideshow for 20 minutes (again, true story). I prefer the latter, it must be said.

In all honesty it's gotten to the point where I don't know what they're actually looking for with these things. You've just got to go in, do your best, piss into the wind and hope you eventually snag something with a paycheck. Thank god I've got other interests or I'd probably go insane by now.

Finally, I have also been doing classes at the esteemed Upright Citizens Brigade theater. Now, these classes are technically Improv, but not as we know it. I went in thinking "I'm going to show all these f**kers just how funny and delightful I really am. They're in for a treat!" However, within an hour I was a cowering wreck. They stamp that "aren't I funny?" gene right out of you immediately. Instead they teach the importance of two things. One, listening to what's going on and creating a scene based off of that (quite a nerve-shredding experience). Two, committing 100% to whatever you're doing. The experience so far, has been revelatory.

You see, as far as commitment goes, nothing is more important if you want to be a good actor, or indeed a good comedian. Let's face it, acting, by it's very nature, is ridiculous. You are essentially doing 'make believe' as a grown adult. However, stories need to be served and the only way to serve such stories is to commit to your part with everything you've got. They say you're reporting on a Manatee headed, Tuna-fish bodied sumo wrestler who threatening to destroy human kind? Then you better report with all the terror and blind panic you can muster.

For example, think of Harrison Ford in Star Wars. It was his first big role. He's sitting on set, convinced he's making the biggest turkey of all time. He was, in his words, "set to fire my agent". However, when he's running through that set being told "Okay, you just came out of an asteroid field six parcecks too far" do you believe for a second that it's not real in the finished product? No chance. Or when he has to pretend that an 8ft hairy beast whose only dialogue is "Gggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" is his best friend, he's in it, 100%. And look at him today.

So when you're in an audition being told "when you bite into that burrito, it's like the happiest you've ever been" (again, true story), instead of thinking how absurd the last sentence that passed your ears was and how much you should be working with Martin Scorcese by now, you've just got to say f*ck it and believe everything as if it were actually happening.

Therefore my advice is to commit to whatever it is you're doing. Because yes it might feel unnatural, and yes you might feel stupid, but one day you might...um...shag Calista Flockhart? I don't know what I'm saying. You get my point.

Peace,

John.

Today Is...

...a Smiths sort of day. Sigh.

JB.

Acid Test:

If anyone else finds this as funny as I did, I will consider you a soulmate for life. Which is not that big of a prize I suppose, but still...

Classic Albums: Breaking Atoms

This is the one and only LP from the now defunct Main Source. "Who?" You might ask. Exactly.

So, Main Source were a hip hip group with two DJ's hailing from Toronto (not exactly the most gangsta of hoods) and the one and only Large Professor. "Who?" You might ask. Again, bear with me.

This album, released in the good old days of 1991, is just outstanding music from start to finish. It also covers a wide range of topics, something that sorely lacks from Hip Hop music in this day and age - Bitches, money and gun crime is okay for a few songs, a few albums even, but enough is enough. From the opening bizarre piano loop of "Snake Eyes", a song comparing life to a dice game, you know this is going to be different. From there we delve into Large Professor's failed love life ("Looking at the Front Door"), Police Brutality ("Just a Friendly Game of Baseball") and the misuse of a certain word ("Peace Is Not the Word To Play"). The final song, "Watch Roger Do His Thing" is a tale of a friend from the hood (whose name escapes me...) who goes out, gets a job, works hard at said job, and makes something for himself and his family. Gasp! That's right folks, a positive message from a rap record. Who'd have thought it possible.

All of the wild and varied subject matter aside, the only reason rap gets our attention in the first place is to answer the question "will drunk girls potentially grind with me if heard in a bar?". The answer is an resounding yes. This album boasts some of the funkiest beats the old school has to offer (again from Large Professor - in fact I'm not really sure what the DJ's really do in this group at all. Might explain why they are no longer a group, eh?) and from start to finish I find myself nodding along like the middle class whitey I truly am. Play this loud in your car, and birdies will come a-flocking. So I'm told anyway.

As far as great albums that absolutely no-one has heard of go, this one might take the gold medal. In short, listen to this album now. No-one else has.

Main Source - Snake Eyes

JB.

P.S - this album also features the first performance, ever, from a young fella called Nas (now a rap megastar). Who, despite being about 14 when this was recorded, managed some pretty high levels of offensiveness, declaring himself himself a "police murderer" and claiming "when I was 12 I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus". Haha. Marvelous isn't it? These young black chappies and their unruly ways. Hurrah!

Dialogue of the Day

Woman: "This painting, to me, restates the negativeness of the universe. The hideous lonely emptiness of existence. Nothingness. The predicament of Man forced to live in a barren, Godless eternity like a tiny flame flickering in an immense void with nothing but waste, horror and degradation, forming a useless bleak straightjacket in a black absurd cosmos"

Man: "What are you doing Saturday night?"

Woman: "Committing suicide"

Man: "What about Friday?"

From "Play It Again, Sam" (1972)

Heroes to Humanity #33 - Stephen Merchant

He stands at a ridiculous height. He is built like a girl's bicycle. He looks, for all intents and purposes, like a circus freak. However, his genius in the realms of comedy knows no bounds. He is Stephen Merchant.

For anyone who doesn't know, Steve is the co-creator of The Office (the original of course) and generally less revered half of the old Gervais/Merchant comedy brainbox. While Gervais lauds it around the globe enjoying the fruits of mega-stardom, he will be the first to tell you that he wouldn't be sh*t without his lanky, goggle-eyed friend.

Merchant's career began as a failed stand-up comedian. He was then hired as Ricky Gervais' assistant at indie radio channel XFM because, according to Gervais, "it was the first CV on my desk". From there the two went on to host the saturday afternoon show, which, as I can attest to, was bloody hilarious. Then came The Office - brought about because Stephen had to film something for his directing class and asked Gervais to do his "creepy boss guy". Thus began one of the greatest comedy creations in history.

Despite the odd cameo here and there, Merchant remained relatively unknown until 2005's "Extras" where he played hapless agent Darren Lamb. Finally people noticed how f**king funny the man is. I for one, think his performance in that programme was one of the funniest I've seen, as evidenced by this hilarious video:

Yes there's been a few misguided attempts at film-making since then (The Invention of Lying, Cemetary Junction - both shit) but there's also been the Podcasts, "An Idiot Abroad" and I await their latest sitcom "Life's Too Short" - about the trails and tribulations of a showbiz dwarf - with baited breath.

Maximum respect, sir. Keep up the good work.

John.

An Appropriate Response...

Amid all the media moral panic, it's nice to read someone with the proper perspective on the London Riots:

"Panic on the streets of London" - Laurie Penny

JB.

London's Burning!

So, as I sit here right now, foggy London town is being burned to the ground by rampaging gangs of masked youths. Or, more accurately, a bunch of chavvy little twerps are setting cars on fire and stealing cigarettes and snickers bars. It started in Tottenham and quickly spread to other shit-holes around town...Peckham, Brixton, Hackney, Croydon etc. (Coincidence? Mmmm.)

Now, me personally, I'm not adverse to a bit of a riot every now and then. Show the people in charge that the rules can be changed if need be, you know? However, as always, what starts as a genuine angry protest (in this case, the wrongful shooting of a man by the police) often gets corrupted by the criminal element and all relevant cause is immediately discredited in a haze of mindless chavvery. Now, if a family member of mine was wrongfully shot by the police, I would happily take to the streets (or least give it some serious thought). However, most people are just out looking to run around and cause some damage. This is where it goes wrong.

The problem with the nature of rioting is the way it invariably gets dealt with by the police. They have only one option...extreme force. They have no time to decipher who is friend and who is foe, therefore they have to just batter everyone who gets in the way. Of course some of these people are innocents who deserve this not one bit. Thus an innocent man trying to get home gets shoved to the ground and the dogs set on him, what's he going to do? Pick up a bottle and start throwing. Therein the situation becomes further inflamed and it goes on and on. So expect this to continue for at least another couple of days.

One thing I've never understood is the looting aspect of it. What is the benefit of breaking into your local newsagents and pilfering all the copies of Mens World? Exactly what statement are you trying to make? "I will speak out against police brutality by masturbating furiously for days on end! That'll show 'em!" That's merely being a moron. Also, by smashing up and setting fire to your own neighbourhoods, you're just doing exactly what the government wants you to do. Everyone already thinks you're all poor, uneducated, amoral thugs and all this sort of thing does is confirm that stereotype. And, as a result, when this all blows over, no-ones going to be in a hurry to clean it all up. No-one at all.

I do feel sorry for the regular folk of these areas though. Especially those getting their businesses ransacked by these rag-faced chancers. To them my heart goes out. The rest of you are just tw*ts. If only you took all this 'rage' and used it in a constructive manner, who knows what could be achieved.

Until then, enjoy your free TV's where you can watch 'The Only Way Is Essex' and Baa along like good little sheep. Mugs.

Peace and love

John.

Tunes Currently Chasing My Dragon:

1) Wash - Bon Iver

2) Library Pictures - Arctic Monkeys

3) Don't Think Twice, It's Alright - Bob Dylan

4) Sons & Daughters - The Decemberists

5) Ghetto Dreams - Common (feat. Nas)

6) Enter Sandman - Metallica

7) Let's Stay Together - Al Green

8) Chan Chan - Buena Vista Social Club

9) Youthful Expression - A Tribe Called Quest

10) Kettles - Arcade Fire

Lyrics To Live By:

"I decree today that life is simply taking and not giving

England is mine, it owes me a living"

"Still Ill" - The Smiths (1984)

A Word (or two) About Love:

Preach brother! Preach!

Actor Files: Matt Damon

Thanks in no small part to 'Team America', for a good ten years I have been unable to hear this man's name without repeating "Maaaaatt Daaaaamon" like a mongoloid. However, I feel it's time to offer my respects to what has been one of my favourite actors for some years now.

After a few memorable cameos (see: 'Courage Under Fire') Mr. Damon's first big break came when he wrote and starred in the brilliant, and one of my all-time favourites, 'Good Will Hunting' which garnered him and boyhood friend Ben Affleck an Academy Award for best original screenplay. From there, Hollywood mega stardom followed.

"Some people get into this business and they're so afraid to lose anything. They try to protect their position like clinging to a beachhead. These actors end up making really safe choices. I never wanted to go that route. If I go down, I'm going down swinging."

Damon next starred in Spielberg's 'Saving Private Ryan', the criminally underrated 'Rounders' and 'The Talented Mr. Ripley'. All great films and not your typical Hollywood-star fodder. Then came of course the 'Ocean's Eleven' and 'Bourne' series'. When I first saw 'The Bourne Identity' I was skeptical but ended up very pleasantly surprised. In fact I can't really put it better than Paul Rudd's character in the 40 year-old virgin: "I always thought of Matt Damon as a bit of a Streisand, but he's really rocking the shit in this one".

Along with the undoubted success of those films, he also offered stellar performances in films like 'Syriana', 'The Good Shepherd', 'The Informant', and 'True Grit' (which I absolutely loathed. His performance, however, was the one good thing about that film. Ten Oscar nominations? Ten?! F**k right off.) Then came a long overdue Academy Award nomination for his portrayal of Francois Pienaar in 'Invictus', which is a pretty much flawless performance. However, my favourite role from the boy Damon is in Martin Scorcese's 'The Departed'. When that film came out, everyone was talking about Jack Nicholson, or Leonardo DiCaprio, or Alec Baldwin, or Mark Wahlberg (who was good, I admit) but I urge you to go back and watch that film again. Then try telling me that Matt Damon doesn't act rings around everyone else in that film. He is brilliant and that film would be nothing without him.

"I don't hold myself to some higher standard of behaviour. You don't have to do a lot to be seen as 'nice'. I guess some of these people must be such rampant pricks that people are amazed when you say hello. I don't know why people like me, and I don't know if I want to know. That might be the kiss of death. I'd rather people not know a lot about me and go see the films."

But, you see, that's why Matt Damon is such an oddity in this day and age. He has the rare honor of always being good in absolutely everything he's done. He's never done anything shite. Thus everyone simply expects a solid performance from him and when he delivers said performance, it is simply par for the course. I almost want him to do a "Gigli" or "The Happening" or "Elizabethtown" just so we can all be reminded of just how great the man is. One day it'll happen I'm sure. Until that day however, our Matty will have to settle on being one of the richest, most successful humans alive.

Bravo sir.

JB.

P.S - For any actors out there looking for a career model, both on the screen and off it, look no further.

Codex

Right, everyone (all three of you), I want you to go to somewhere peaceful, somewhere quiet and preferably away from other humans. I want you to turn all the lights off and close your eyes. Ingest whatever substance makes you happy - although of course I am not advocating the use of drugs - sit back, relax and play this video:

JB

Things I Love: Man on Wire

This absolutely fascinating documentary is the story of one nutty Frenchman named Phillipe Petit. Back in the early 1970's, Petit was a young circus performer/wire walker/complete crackpot who had a dream, and that dream was to tightrope between the World Trade Center.

How he got to finally do it is a story in itself and listening to the man tell it is one of the more exciting things one can do. I could honestly hear him speak for hours on end and not be bored for a second. Yet we don't just get to hear him speak. Thankfully Phillipe and his team recorded hours of footage of their exploits back in the day, including him tightroping across Notre Dame and over (yes, over) the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

The big prize however was the tallest buildings on earth (still uncompleted at the time). So he assembled a crack team of people and they set to work. The rest is history and all I'll say is that, despite being comfortably rooted on terra firma and in the sanctity of my house, my stomach turned more times than I can remember.

However, what I love most about this film is how moving the whole thing is. Call me a sap, but listening to these people talk about their experiences on these adventures just reminds me of how romantic everything can be if you look at it the right way. Of course, it helps that they are all French (for the most part), but there are so many underlying themes to this story that it resonates on a deeper level than just some madman performing stunts. The end result is a quite beautiful experience.

"Life should be lived on the edge of life. You have to exercise rebellion: to refuse to tape yourself to rules, to not refuse your own success, to refuse to repeat yourself, to see every day, every year, every idea as a true challenge - and then you are going to live your life on a tightrope." (Phillipe Petit)

Peace,

JB