Select Banishments for the Orwellian
Hell that is…
Room 101
GO TO: Adverts GO TO: Denise Van
Outen GO TO: Isms
GO TO: Female MTV VJs GO TO: Taxidermy
GO TO: Jo Whiley GO TO: ‘Britpop’ GO TO: Disney
Prices
GO TO: Heavy Rotation GO TO: Mediocre
Shelf-life
GO TO: Wankers GO TO: Coats
in the Cold GO TO: Jordan
Adverts In
The Middle Of Films
Because they ruin continuity. Because if you channel-hop through
boredom you invariably miss coming back to the film just that little bit after the
point where people have finally stopped suggesting that you might want to drive
pick up a coffee pot with a piece of soggy towelling or skateboard when you’re
on your period. Because if you’re taping the film you feel compelled to watch
it to weed out the adverts... and then there’s always the chance that if you
press stop as you tape the thing you forget to press start again. Because so
few adverts are of any worth at all ( Pro Plus and most all beers being the
current exceptions ) that you return to the film feeling depressed &
patronised & numbed with boredom.
People (
STILL ) Using The Word ‘Britpop’
Because it never summarised the diversity of the music which was
emerging into the harsh light of chart success. Because it lumped together all
Britain’s musical output under one seemingly all-encompassing banner. Because
it’s now seen as a dirty word because people just associate it with
Camden-excesses, Menswear and Cast. Because it blatantly ignored the quality
that was pouring out from other countries at the time: The Cardigans, The
Wannadies, the Foo Fighters. And because it’s crap - it was only ever a quickly
thought-up ill-fitting description of a media created ‘scene’ - and we want rid
of it, thankyou.
Because, with the sole exception of the generally agreeable Sarah
Cox, none of them have more to them than the external; see Jenny McCarthy,
Donna Air, Cat Deeley. Because they were all hired on the strength of the
external. Because they seem incapable of interest in any subject but
themselves. Because they make for screamingly dull television. Because all the
males - Richard Blackwood, Zane Lowe, Toby Amies - are geniunely engaging &
amusing and wipe the floor with them in terms of entertainment value... which
then adds creedence to the idea that women’s place ( particularly on television
) is simply to look purty and attract the youth element... which is itself
denigrating to the youth element, who prefer their presenters to have something
of value between their ears as well as their legs.
Female Refusal
To Wear Coats In Cold Weather
It’s cold. You’re
cold. Everybody’s cold.
Just because it’s dark
doesn’t mean you can’t wear clothing.
This is why we have
evolved Cloakroom Attendants.
Heavy Rotation
Because
you can quite easily have too much of a good thing. And because you can
oh-so-very easily have far far far too much of a very very bad thing.
Because hitting someone because they worship / talk / dress /
dance / have sex differently to you and your perceptions of normality is
pointless, childish, asinine, ineffectual, senseless, bigoted, stupid,
unnecessary, ridiculous, uncalled-for,
and incredibly bad form. Because it doesn’t prove you to be a real man - or
woman. Because it just reveals you for the narrow-minded inadequate unhappy
fascist twat you truly are.
Jordan
As the epitome of
everything we should be struggling against. Common as muck and twice as stupid;
you might think that they’re breasts, but in fact they’re twin air-bags, in
place as pre-emptive cushioning should the weight of her trowelled-on make-up
cause her to over-balance. She might look like a cartoon computerised fantasy,
but at least Jessica Rabbit and Lara Croft can kick ass ( and have never
managed to tell a female audience member she must have a vagina ‘like a bucket’
while guesting on Graham Norton ).
Only The
Mediocre Having A
Lasting Shelf-Life
So things of true
beauty always burn out whilst the stolid plod steadily on. So nothing’s ever
really built to last. So most bands aren’t worth your love after three years or
so. I just hate to see so many people who make such good music simply give up
the business – for whatever reason – when I know there are still songs unheard
burning within them. And it seems like every year I lose more bands than I
gain. Sigh.
Because she is all shell. Because she reminds one of a helium
balloon. Because when acting, even if playing a role close to her actual self, the
characterisation still reeks of implausability - Geri suffered the same
boggling (-ly irritating ) inability in SpiceWorld. Because just the sight of
her tiny pouting self-satisfied whorish face makes me want to smack her with
the nearest woodland animal. Because all she is, and ever will be, is the small
sprig of parsley ( or dollop of salad cream ) beside someone else’s meat; see
The Big Breakfast / various celebrity boyfriends for more details.
Because, no matter which way you look at it, to pay £17.99 for the
‘Bug’s Life’ movie is a strategic fleecing of a gullible nation too much held
in the power of their children ( or their own shallow materialism ) to stand up
to megalomaniacal corporate price-fixing.
Because stuffed animals really really freak me out. Because you’re
left with dead things as ornaments. Because removing the innards of a creature
- whether beloved pet or unfortunate moose - and replacing them with sand, is
disgusting. Because it only encorages the people whom engage the services of
the taxidermist; if they’re hunters, it encourages them to keep trophy hunting,
and if they’re obsessively mourning pet owners, it encourages them to retreat
from normal life still further. Because you’re you’re making ( adult ) toys out
of something nature never intended you should possess even after its’ death.
Because we wouldn’t wish it upon ourselves or those we care about ( yeah yeah,
unless we’re Norman Bates ) and so we
don’t have the right to play God with pickled preservation.
An exclusively male
domain this one – often generated by excessive consumption of alcohol, although
the condition can also be genetic. Usually occurring in prop groups, such types
will inevitably come into direct contact with unlucky females, small
defenceless creatures, and/or those whom do not conform to their rigid ideas of
normalcy. If you’re fleet of foot and quick of wit, you can usually deflate and
escape them. But if they were trapped in Room 101, we would no longer have to
face them. Oh, the joy…
Because her voice upsets the bass on my stereo. Because she is
incapable of conducting a stimulating interview, or keeping her shoes off and resisting
the temptation to pick at her feet. Because she will interrupt her guests with
a new inane question just when the thread of conversation was becoming
interesting. Because she still desperately tries to be ‘with it’ ( clothes,
language, hair ). Because she has made the cross-over from radio to television
solely because she is female, and Channel 4 think that we would rather look at
the side of her ear on another preposterous camera angle than listen to an
intelligent & informed & engaging debate hosted by Mary-Anne Hobbes or
Steve Lamacq. Because she is the
possessor of a famous voice she gets paid ridiculous amounts of money to sound
smug & patronising on voice-overs for records she’s only heard of because
the Evening Session or John Peel have championed the band at least eight months
earlier and she relies on other people to tell her what’s cool anyway as she’s
incapable of an independent thought.
Last revised: 14/08/01