Auto-Tune killed the Hip Hop and or radio star.

I promise you next week I’ll dedicate an entire post to Sergeant Clifford Stone and touch on anti gravity propulsion and the fact that it already exists. But for the meantime you’re just going to have to settle for my rant about auto tune and it’s myriad of hacks, I mean users, I mean artists.

Sometimes if I’m lucky and to be honest I’ve been quite lucky these last few weeks, I’m given the duty of working in the gatehouse. What does that mean you ask? It means that I sit in a box ala Adam Sandler in Big Daddy and arrange what docks the trucks get to park in. It’s easier than the manual labour expected of us inside the factory and it affords me a great deal of time to read and or write. Well the other day I did a bit of the former finding a men’s magazine that had a four-page article detailing the death of Hip Hop. Now it would be easy to blame Auto-Tune for the entire crumbling of the genre but a lot of the blame has to go to the lack of creativity and the constant if not absurd amount of showboating that goes on in the videos and the lyrics.

But for me the beef can be most easily articulated in a tool that essentially pioneered one thing amongst artists and one thing only; laziness. I’ll start with basic pop and radio fare and by the end of the post I’ll segway into Hip Hop territory. Anyway like I said with the advent or at least the acceptance of this machine as a tool of engineering it has brought about a sameness in top forty pop that has rendered nearly every pop song f- ing useless.

I seriously have not listened to the radio in years, well at least since my car was installed with ipod connectivity. The only time I hear it is when I’m at the gym and even there you can hear the groans from the clientele and my mates when some asinine 3 minute pile of trash is sprayed over the airwaves at 110% so the station can fit in three more adds per break. Wait scrap that, I do listen to my car radio when I listen to the footy. SEN, Triple M, sometimes even ABC.

But really to have this shit passed as music these days is in actual fact a blatant f – ing insult to the public. I think what we’re seeing here is a focus on image and image alone. To be honest I don’t think record companies’ look for a talent so much as a face, a body and a personality. Now this is no surprise that Record companies are looking for a complete package but I think now in 2010 it’s gotten to the point where singing is no longer secondary or tertiary, it’s the final piece of the puzzle that can be fixed with the least amount of effort. The fact that they peddle this shit to the consumer really irks me, but what irks me more is the artists themselves acting like music’s second gift after Sinatra and Martin.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bpx9hRnv9AI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXsTVS7LQH4&feature=related

Dino is f- ing sitting down for f&%#’s sake and he’s still singing better than most modern day dipshits!

And like Ben says in Barry Levinsons “Liberty Heights” – “You never walk out on Sinatra.”

Well guess what I would walk out on most artists today because they are full of shit. I think a lot of this can go back to my generational argument. Back in the 40’s through to the 60’s a lot was expected of you and if you didn’t cut the mustard they didn’t have much that could help you. If you want another example look at this and tell me of another actor sans Fred Astaire who would ever be able to perform like this today.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aus1PA5-SyI

Yeah that’s right not a f – ing soul. Yeah that’s right I’m a little off topic but who cares.

We created this problem of creative mediocrity by lowering the bar and allowing technology to help people slide right under it. What’s more incredible is that we don’t see it, actually music purists and most music writers see it or they wouldn’t be writing about it but the people who make these artists who they are, the public, don’t. I find it almost impossible not to notice how every song sounds the same. They are almost hybrid children all stemming from Cher’s “Believe” which evidently and coincidently was really the beginning of all this shit. Auto – Tune may have been used before but never touched the listener like it did back then.

So how has this affected Hip Hop? Simple, it’s made it wussy. Back when I was ten and just after the death of Tupac I began listening to Hip Hop, or just Rap music, which I think it, should be called. Yes I am white but if I let my beard grow I can almost pass as a light skinned dude. It would explain why I always get looks from Black girls. But I digress. Back in the day when you listened to something by Tupac, Nas, Boys 504, Ice Cube, Ice – T, N.W.A, South Central Cartel, Dre and even Bone Thugz you heard something raw. Granted that most of it could be considered Gangsta Rap it still carried an emotion to it and a force that needed nothing bar the conviction of it’s delivery.

What stood out back then were the lyrics, the passion and even the music videos that in some cases showed it’s artists in a city tip next to crumpled up cars. No mugging for the camera, no club’s where the artists was given instant access, no women half naked and $200 000 dollar cars and definitely no Auto- Tune. Hell on one of my CD’s I could hear Tupac take a breath and then near the end of the track the sound of actual spittle being flung from his mouth. Yes I am aware that on California Love at the end a guy uses Auto Tune to do some be bopping and scatting but that itself had nothing to do with Tupac’s rhymes.

The problem is what we are left with now, I’ll tell you what we are left with.

Man I seem to ask a lot of rhetorical questions in my blog, but I guess that doesn’t matter because nobody reads it so nobody complains.

Anyway I was saying what we are left with is this guy.

And his song – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZoG5jJ3E8rg

Can you imagine if this over produced under rapped crap was peddled back in the early nineties! You could bet your life savings that Easy – E would probably take a bat to his head. There were times when all you had was your talent and your tude (short for attitude) now all that is needed is the tude. Even listen to the lyrics, he’s talking about an ipod stuck on replay, a f –ing ipod!

Yeah I can really feel the tension when he brings his ipod to the Mac store to get it fixed and one of the Mac dudes gives him a new one because he’s still under warranty. Wow the richness and the vividness of his tales really makes me feel like I’m there at the store with him, wait let’s by an ipad as well and put that in the video. A guy sounding like a robot, singing on a beach about a girl whose personality reminds him of a song on his ipod.

I’m sold!

The only thing good about that clip was the flag in the back sort of resembles an Australian flag. Now honestly I could get started on T – Pain who is essentially the godfather of Auto–Tune, or at least the young Coroleone in this saga but I won’t.

Yet it’s times like these that I’m glad I’m a ninties child because all I have to do is wack in my ipod and be transported to a time when talent was the only thing on offer. And yes I’m aware of the irony of using an ipod to go back in time.

So there you have it, essentially what we have been listening to for the past couple years are singers and artists no more talented than ourselves yelling over a microphone and then mugging around like they have a voice. I’m aware that there are artists out there who absolutely admonish the use of the machine including Jay – Z  and other Rap artists who are on the verge of exploding – Kid Cudi but to be fully fair on this subject I propose that we have a national year of no Auto–Tune.

Yeah that’s how much I hate music right now that I want to dedicate a year to it.

Until next time…whatever.

What’s unreal about reality TV.

Easy – all of it, and I’m not talking about the well known cuts and edits used by the networks to make incidents and accidents appear more heightened than what they really are. No everyone is more than aware of that, hell that’s half the reason why they watch it; actually it was the reason why they watched it. Now it’s something entirely different and completely more asinine. Kids, yes kids and teens and tweens and those aged in their mid twenties and late twenties and even those in the early years of Gen X who come home alone, eat dinner alone, go to bed alone and watch for one simple reason.

They want a better life without actually wanting to work for it.

Yes I’m generalizing, and yes I’m aware that there are many of many generations that work their f –ing asses off so please I implore you not to take any of this personally. You’re a worker and you acquired success in your chosen field because you deserve it.

“Survivor, The Hills, Laguna Beach, My Super Sweet Sixteen, The City, Big Brother, American, Indian, Australian, British, Afgani, Brazilian, Taiwan, South African Idol, X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent, Master Chef, Joe Millionaire, Who wants to be a Millionaire, Deal or no Deal, The Bachelor, The Bacholorette, Beauty and the Geek, Age of Love, Rock of Love, The Biggest Loser, The Simple life, The Kardashians, Nick and Jessica or as it was in Italy – Nick e Jessica, Hogan knows best, Housewives of Orange County, New York, Atlanta, Beverly Hills and New Jersey” Okay that’s all I can remember off the top of my head, actually wait “The Jersey Shore”

People and I generalize because I refuse to watch this shit, I refuse to contribute to the success of someone else’s life when that entails watching them get drunk every week, or fight with their boy/girlfriend, or lose weight, or win a million dollars by whoring themselves to somebody or spending half a million on a f – ing birthday party and still complain that they didn’t get the car they wanted. I honestly think we have been put back twenty years in spiritual and cultural development as a race because of this crap on TV. What’s happened after a decade of being saturated with this uninspired programming is that its messages have permeated the public psyche, especially the youngsters.

Essentially these shows promote one thing – being famous rocks, doesn’t matter how you did it, why you did it, who you did as long as you’re famous a career awaits. What that career is, almost always appears to be f*&# all. These people parade on stage with no apparent work ethic yet complaining of the most trivial of hurdles. I once watched an episode of  “The Hills” and what I saw scared me. Girls and Guys my age – 26 bitching about someone not texting them, not turning up to a party or worse yet turning up and ignoring them.

SEROIUSLY ARE YOU F_ING SERIOUS!!!!!!!!

THERE WERE MEN AND WOMEN GOING TO GERMANY, KOREA AND VIETNAM AT 18 FIGHTING IN AMONGST THE SHIT, MENDING BLOWN OFF LEGS AND BY 30 THEY WERE COMMANDING ENTIRE F – ING PLATOONS!!!!

Yet it’s this asinine drivel on our screens that kids aspire too. “She’s hot, she’s famous and just shops all day.” Well f*%@ you if that’s what you think life is about because you are one of the many who are bringing the global collectiveness and oneness of this earth to a screeching halt. Why? Because the people you aspire to don’t f – ing contribute.

Being hot is not a skill, being famous is not a skill, shopping is not a skill, being a slut is definitely not a skill and being on a reality show is not a skill period.

Wait just got another one – “The Apprentice.”

“You’re fired”

When did becoming famous actually become a job? Honestly tell me when…actually I’ve figured it out. The exact date escapes me but it was when precisely the real story became more interesting or more scandalous than the one created by the professional entertainers.  Some groundbreaking TV has been created in the last decade – The Wire, Deadwood, Breaking Bad, OZ, Arrested Development, Curb your Enthusiasm, Always Sunny, Hill Street Blues and many more. But this stuff and it’s bank of talented creators get ignored because it and they don’t contain storylines about one of the Kardashians. Remember when Kim was caught lying to her little sisters about taking them to the beach then them getting mad at her and buying her a pot plant only to drop it on the ground in front of her in anger. Remember that? Remember when that happened? No didn’t think so, so who gives f*&#.

See, it’s like liking the bottom of my shoe, pointless with the only result being a bad aftertaste. Now if you want to hear someone speak of fame who’s experienced it at it’s highest levels and realized it means nothing because it’s nothing tangible but only side product of hard work in his craft go on youtube and watch any interview with Kurt Cobain. Just from his body language you can see the whole ideal of it just rubs him the wrong way. There is a certain interview where the three of them from Nirvana are at a lake talking about those who chase fame, unfortunately I can’t find it. Below is a portion of that interview but it doesn’t allude to what I’m saying.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtfsPN38kag&feature=related at 1:07

Now after the last few paragraphs I’ve realized I’ve deviated from my intended point, that being that nobody wants to work for a better life. Why? Because what they see on TV are people achieving these dreams with minimal amount of it. Basically all I got to do is rock up to a cattle call, do something vulgar, asinine or just sing half well and I’ll be famous and the rest will take care of itself. What are even more disturbing are the contestants’ reactions when they are told they are shit. It’s doesn’t occur to them that just wanting something will get you nowhere. And just dabbling in it will get you nowhere, and just perusing it, as a light hobby will get you nowhere.  But nonetheless on most talent shows every time the inevitable question is asked so too is the inevitable answer given.

“Why do you want this?”

“Because it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do with my life.”

Yeah that’s why you’re in your mid forties, never sung or danced or even performed in your life but feel you are owed greatness because you’ve wanted it through the kaleidoscope that is reality television. You will probably roll your eyes, yes I’m referring to the nine people who read this blog last week but there is a quote from the biography of Vince Lombardi that states.

“When God reserves greatness for someone, he makes sure he/she is truly ready for it.”

Hence why very few people achieve those great things they desire or dream about because they are not ready for it. They are not ready for it because they don’t truly understand it, they don’t understand it because their primary goal is the wrong thing – the fame. It was never the love of the craft to begin with otherwise they would have done it for nothing for the formative years of their career and realized that it’s never going to be given to them by a dude with a bad box haircut and British accent that is actually unaware that nobody gives a shit.

Simply put you got to work for it, but unfortunately we are breeding a generation of lazy, self indulgent pratts who wouldn’t have the faintest idea of commitment to a cause if it smacked them in the face with it’s genitals, if it had any. So to sit and watch those shows, and watch someone live their life while you waste away yours on a couch well I’m going to go back to something I said in my first post – “I have no sympathy for you.”

Why would I say that? Because I can assure you your life is infinitely more exciting and purposeful than theirs. How you say? Because they need you to watch it to make them feel alive, if we didn’t pay attention those idiots would actually go away. And can you imagine what we’d be left with. Yeah it’s actually a pleasant thought.

If you like reality TV, please comment and abuse me, or just comment as you can see I’m still waiting for my first one.

Guys being girls being guys.

Honestly at times I think I’m a baby boomer inside a Gen Y body. Maybe it has to do with that very slight generational gap between the Gen Y’s in their mid to late twenties and the ones in their early twenties. Believe me there is one; I like my mates, coincidently all have at least one younger sibling in their early twenties.  And guess what? They aren’t a scratch on what we are in terms of work ethic, practicality and rationality. Now I’m not calling all kids in their early twenties useless but I can assure you there are many and for some reason I’ve been witness to a lot of them. But then again this is I ranting and not attacking the genesis of my contention, which is –

That a real men in this day and age and on this planet are almost non existent.

The numbers obviously decrease dramatically as we rise up the ranks of generations, with the Silent Generation coming in last. They were the ones born during the great depression and are my Nonno and Nonna – they are f- ing tough, and so are yours so make no bones about it. But as we slip through the cracks to those men occupying the ranks of Gen Y and Gen Z we see a scary pattern. They are not men, they are not tough, and honest to God or Buddha or whatever if they don’t pull their fingers out soon we are in deep shit as a planet and a species.

Simply put what is happening can be blamed on a few key things that have transformed men into something of a hybrid of a girl and a…..and a….. and a…. shit I have no idea, I just know one simple fact. MEN ARE NOT MEN ANYMORE!

I heard a great line from a dude who is producing the feature that I’m writing at the moment, he said this when we saw a young chap walking the street in super tight hamstring hugging jeans. “The women’s movement has moved so far forward that it has emasculated the modern male into an image that now represents a girl.” Looking around when I walk through the city, the suburbs or even a shopping centre I see this in all it’s manicured glory – wax chests, gelled hair, super tight jeans, lasered eyebrows and a general air of self absorption that just doesn’t sit right with me.

Is this the man that girls want? I find it amusing that around the world and in this city in particular that women scream day and night about a man shortage. I can’t find a man, the men available are too self involved etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Well guess what you forced us into this corner! It’s unfortunate because women now realize that the man they want is just that; a f – ing man! A man who can do physical work, a man that has a beard and a bit of hair, a man that represents the other side of the spectrum. I think women even realize now that they pushed the image for us too far and are now stuck with a planet full of wieners cubed. Do women want an accessory that looks good but has no real value or substance beyond that, or do that want a form that fits something a little more practical.

Personally I’m getting sick of seeing dudes who are almost prettier than girls, so pretty that you think to yourself “man that’s a pretty dude.” But I counteract it with this quote.

“If the unfortunate event of a true third world war reared it’s ugly head and all us gents were conscripted to fight for our nation. What f- ing hope have I got when the guy next to me in the trenches hasn’t worked a physical day in his life except on his tan, hair and chest.”

To me now women have the power, which doesn’t bother me a bit, they’re owed it after the centuries of second-class citizenship. Careers, sexual freedom without being called a slut, high-ranking positions in the corporate world and everything else they are achieving at this moment finally proves this planet has the hallmarks of true evolution. Yet unfortunately what has happened now is that we as men are left with no image, no space to fill, you’re either too manly or too girly. Both sides of this divide being created at one point or another by bullshit female publications trying to sum up the modern man.

Well here is a news flash for you – you f – ed up!!! And now you’re left with a planet full of chicks! Believe me we serve a purpose, and back in the day I used to remember what that was! Now if we kept that position but had simultaneously let women progress to the gender equality they deserve then we would truly be a force to be reckoned with. I mean that as a collective of people who represent this planet in the likely event we find out we’re not alone – my future post on Sergeant Clifford Stone will detail this.

The petty problems I see gent’s deal with on most reality shows, most of them on MTV and most of them turning a “Super Sweet 16.” Makes me want to regurgitate, not vomit but regurgitate because I’ve just eaten. Spoilt kids demanding hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of entertainment and thus continuing the cycle of useless kids especially boys who have nothing to contribute to this planet. The same ones who change their f –ing facebook status every thirty seconds, the same ones who have no ambition but to travel, the same ones who can’t hold a job down for more than 3 months because it’s getting too hard, the same one who spends more time getting ready than his girlfriend, the same one who is starting to weigh less and less and err on the side of 40 kilos, the same one who probably hasn’t read a book that isn’t a style magazine, the same one whose only ambition is to have a rocking weekend, the same one who would cry after a days worth of physical labour in a factory or on a farm, the same one who doesn’t know what it means to pay the price and the same one who carries an air of arrogance when the only thing he has achieved has been purchasing a pair of skinny jeans that he has previously not been able to fit into.

Shit I just lost my breath, sorry about the bad grammar but it’s all part of the intended impact.

Look I’ll admit I have some mates who wear skinny jeans but they also work in construction and put in 14-hour days so they’re justified. But recently I read a book about the late great Vince Lombardi, the man who after waiting almost twenty years to get his shot to coach a professional team finally did so by creating the dynasty that was the 60’s Green Bay Packers. He demanded full commitment from his men and a work ethic that was second to none. If you were on time you were late, if you were fifteen minutes early you were on time. I can talk about him ad nauseum and I will in a later post but it was this attitude that every man had it in him to achieve greatness or least fulfill his potential if he just stripped himself to the basics and got the work done. No gel, no wax, no lasers, no tan…just a man.

Wait a second…

Sorry just jetted out for a few hours to grab an arvo screening of “Get him to the Greek” It was quite good, I don’t usually see arvo screenings of films, but it’s my day off from the factory so I if I didn’t see it I would’ve never. Puff Daddy was funny.

Anyhoo, unfortunately Vince’s attitude slowly became archaic as the 70’s rolled in, and with any decade change is obviously necessary. Yet for some reason we seem to jettison those aspects and attributes, which made the past one great and invent new ones. We give them different names but really they are the same thing. I think what is really just getting me is that what I once remember being cool and the embodiment of man now just doesn’t exist, not a little bit, not a micro bit, just not at all. Now we have to look back, what is cool and masculine? For me Steve McQueen is a cool cat, probably one of the coolest there is, but he’s dead and has been for a while now. Think about it, we have to look back to see any vestige of masculinity, a man who can take care of himself, a man who doesn’t give a shit about what he looks like ala Robert Mitchum because what matters is the substance inside.

“Guts and Black Stuff… and about 50 slim jims”

– Nelson Muntz

If the ideal man in women’s eyes is being propagated to us through shiny magazines and forty foot poster advertisements then guess what – I’m glad I’m nothing like them because in reality they stand for nothing. And to be honest I don’t think women are given a choice to choose the man they want, they are fed the image of the man they want. Is it what they want? What do women want? Wai,t where is Mel Gibson a bathtub and a toaster? F&#$ it he’s busy.

Honestly I think it’s clear that for the past decade the man women supposedly want is in actual fact a woman.

Well then, it’s 2010 and I guess we’re all f – ed.

So cheers, peace, crackers and geese and if you want to leave a comment please do. I’m only getting spam and it sucks.

Why hooking up is easier when you’ve tranquilized the conscious.

Well I was seriously considering not writing this post tonight, right now Argentina is playing South Korea for what most likely will be top spot in Group B. Plus watching Maradona prowl the managers box like he’s a caged cat is almost as entertaining as the match itself. But we have only two TV’s in the house and right now my Dad is watching The Footy Show on one and my Mum is watching TNT on the other.

Anyway last week I promised my topic would cover that of the opposite of sex and how getting laid and picking up seems to happen more frequently when you are not trying or at least not in the mind space. Now bare in mind that this post will not pose as any authority on the matter, plenty of men have had plenty more sex and success with women than myself, I know because I’ve been present, I know because I’ve seen it happen. I know because what has helped me get to where I want to get in my career and hopefully then some in the coming months has been my propensity to sit or stand and watch the mechanics of it go down.  Add to that my own experiences, stuff I’ve read in magazines and even the book “The Game” which was actually more entertaining than informative and what you get is a pattern. One single brain wave that I’ve seen in action when the sparks fly. Yet what’s even more fascinating is that you yourself use this system of thought for everything you do not pertaining to woemen, and I mean f –ing everything.

Now before I begin I implore you not to take this as any sort of dating/getting laid advice, because it’s not. It’s simply an observation and if you take it as gospel you’re going to suffer desert dick pretty damn quickly. But if I’m right and it works for you at least feel free to comment, seriously someone put something down because my blog right now appears to be nothing but a disjointed individual spouting random thoughts without filtering into the universe.

Alllllrighty then, many of you, and I’m talking to the gents here, have had that occasion on a particular evening when you picked up. Simply put you got a number, hooked up with the girl or even got laid on the first night. Now in my own experiences I’ve noticed this has happened when I wasn’t trying, or in a more basic term, wasn’t looking desperate. It’s those nights when you can’t be f – ed, you’re really tired, you’re only out because of the whiny voice of your mate on the other line saying something as primal and simple as “c’monnnn”. So back in my early days, when university was still a new experience and Thursday nights were spent getting maggoted with every other student in the city I got a chance to witness my theory in action.

It’s 11pm Thursday night 2002 and for some reason I’m actually in bed instead of out and about with the rest of the guys getting the job done on the dance floor. So literally with one foot in the bed and one on the floor I receive a call from my mate telling me that I should come down to a bar/club right now. Now being half asleep but not wanting to waste a good old fashioned uni night I decide to go. Long story short I arrive and like usual the place is full, but unlike most times I’m half asleep, I’m there in body but the spirit is in dreamstate. Actually I can put my state of mind in a song and video for you to illustrate my point a little clearer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7rYLYBSHBc&feature=related Yeah one of my favourites from Seasame Street too, oh and if you are really nostalgic check out this one http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_SGKnw611k&feature=related

For some reason it’s the song I remember most from my days watching the show.

So in the comatose state that I’m in I grab myself a beer to pep myself up and shuffle onto the dance floor. Minding my own business I basically lean from side to side hoping the beat of the music will be enough in itself to keep me from crashing, I kid you not my eyes were closed. Longer story even shorter I end up hooking up with some bird that night. No intention, she came up to me and I didn’t even know she was there until we did hook up.

Now let us look at the variables in this instance, I didn’t really want to be there, when I was there my mind was not on the job, which at that time of your life and on that night is basically the same as any other guys – get a girl, get laid. Essentially what was happening was that my subconscious was taking over, my conscious mind had been tranquilized because it was so tired so what was being emitted by the subconscious were exactly those traits that attract women. Let me break it down to a more frequent occurrence, which has been talked about before. Have you ever noticed that as a dude you have an easier time attracting the girls you are not interested in than the ones that you are? Well I won’t use this as a blanket statement because most of my mates well at least back in the day when they were single did okay for themselves but in general it is phenomena I’ve seen many a time.

The basic mechanics behind this is actually quite simple yet unsurprisingly it’s the same mechanic that leads to you performing well on the sporting field or doing a good job at any other endeavor. What happens is the girl you’re trying to attract on most occasions wherever that may be sends your conscious mind into a certain space – do what needs to be done to attract that girl. So you, being you start acting cool, talking cool or doing whatever you think it is to attract that person. Now those times when you are not in the mind space what actually happens is the complete opposite yet actually is the same thing but without your conscious consent. You’re subconscious is sending out those vibes to whoever in the room whilst your conscious mind is busy with the task at hand, in my case keep myself standing and awake. Your natural abilities and attractiveness become prevalent without you even knowing.

It’s the same when you go out and play a game of footy, you’re late to the match, you just strapped on your boots, you cop a spray from the coach for not being there half an hour before game time but then what happens? You end up having a blinder; you kick ten goals, why? Because you’re conscious was so worried about being late that your subconscious took control of the task at hand – the game, and it said; “I know what to do, I’ve been doing this for years, so shut the f%$@ up and let me take the reins for once.”

So like I stated a paragraph back, you attract the girls you are not interested in because you don’t work your conscious mind into that state of attraction. You don’t tell it to act cool or whatever to get the job done because you have no interest. I guess the same can be said of guys who are naturals. I know a few and their conscious mind is in a constant state of tranquilization. They’re there to have a good time and they know their subconscious mind will take care of the rest. Unlike this poor Mexican kid who declared his unrequited love for Megan Fox, to be honest I don’t think it was the rose, which was the deal breaker but the Tony Danza style hair cut. Yet one can only imagine the dialogue that went on that night between the young man and Megan’s security guards.

Okay give me a minute I’m going to check on the score…

Okay I’m back Argentina are up 2 -1, can’t believe I’ve already missed three goals and it’s only been 49 minutes!

This is just one of the myriad of examples that have and are currently used to illustrate the power of the subconscious and it’s abilities to solve problems. What’s incredible is that it already has the answers; it’s just waiting for you to ask the questions. Ask it, forget it and let it come later. We’ve seen it and experienced it all before.

So there you have it, for me I think this train of thought, which to be perfectly clear is nothing new really can be harnessed for some really phenomenal achievements. For me in terms of my endeavors in writing and directing, this thought process works 100 percent every time! I guess that’s like that Anchor Man quote – “They’ve done studies, you know. 60% of the time it works, every time.”

So peace until next time, don’t know what that next time will entail but it will exist. Send me an email, leave me a message or just read the damn thing, if not well I guess I got some work to do.

Why Glenn Beck wouldn’t fly down under.

For some reason it feels like an eternity since I posted on here last, maybe because so much has happened in between it feels that way. Anyway the World Cup starts tomorrow, and if Australia can get through the group stages I’ll be mightily impressed, it’s a great squad but it was even greater and younger four years ago – sleepless nights and early mornings are imminent. That aside I really want to broach a topic or a person who has been plaguing me for a while now. Oh before that make sure you see Animal Kingdom, a great Aussie film that took a couple of awards or at least the important one at Sundance this year. You will not see a more menacing character than that of “Pope” played by Ben Mendelson.

So back to the topic at hand.

At lunch time if I’m home I usually give myself a lunch break at around 1 -1:30. Now usually the program of choice is anything on Discovery Travel that has Anthony Bourdain, Andrew Zimmern or David Rocco. The later I like the most because all he does is cook for ten minutes then get tanked for the remaining forty with his buddies. Yet the one down side to all this is the dreaded repeats, on a timeline long enough all things come to an end and so with that I would find myself in those lunch time hours watching Fox News. Why? Because I don’t have the sports channels, free to air is shit at 1:30 in the arvo and the movie channels only show the good stuff at night.

Now I’ve always been aware of the immense right leaning bias of Fox News, being neither left or right myself because I’m not an American I watch the channel purely for the entertainment factor and it’s awesome ratio of news to hot female newsreaders.

You could say that in the beginning it was one man running the show, O’Reilly. In terms of content, popularity and down right blatant right wing yelling at people who weren’t leaning right, you couldn’t beat him. But soon enough O’Reilly’s schtick became too mainstream and not right enough. Actually Jon Stewart put it best in his interview with Bill a few months back, “You’ve become the voice of sanity, which is like being the thinnest kid at fat camp.” If you want to watch the interview click the link below, it’s in eight or seven or five parts, I forget but it’s well worth it. Jon even gets O’Reilly’s floor crew laughing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Icp0tAsl95s

So as with everything in life an upgrade was needed on the Fox Channel, someone who was more right, more outrageous, and even more nonsensical. Cue Glenn Beck, a former radio host turned TV host whose show is basically an hour and a half of him walking around with a chalkboard making far flung acronyms on things that annoy him. It’s funny because he considers himself a conservative libertarian who wants to get back to the roots of the constitution. Sorry to say but it but if that were truly the case he would be on his own network not on Fox News peddling the narrative that’s it’s been known for. The reason you have both parties is because both believe they uphold the constitution better than the other. In actual fact America’s constitution has long been dead, it’s nobodies fault it’s just with a country that big and sprawling how on earth can one constitution fit everyman – another time another crime.

For the best example of how Glenn connects his dots watch this south park clip below, as per usual Cartman does a brilliant impression of the “crying one.”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1g0–VvUUA&feature=related sorry it’s not better quality.

I guess the question is, “Damascus what the f&%$ does Glenn have to do with Australia?” Well to be honest nothing, I can assure you nobody watches this guy because most if not the entire population is at work when his program is shown. I’ve even tried spreading the word amongst my mates but to be honest they really couldn’t give a shit. I even tell them “You gotta see this dude he like cries at the end of every show like a giant baby.”

And that is exactly my point, even if his show was telecast on free to air at 7:30 on Channel Seven, he still wouldn’t rate for the sole reason that nobody in our country would buy him. Would it be the crying, the fake pauses or his misuse of the everyday acronym? Even if he was an Aussie talking about Aussie issues we still wouldn’t buy it, and I can tell you why.

We are a bred from convict stock, well I’m not and actually a lot of the country isn’t either but that heritage and it’s cynical outlook is imprinted on most who are born of this country whether today or two hundred years ago. We can’t have the wool pulled over our eyes because our country was founded by those whose livelihood was to pull the wool over the eyes. It’s the reason our country suffers from tall poppy syndrome, it’s the reason you can have a beer with your boss at the end of the week, it’s the reason why someone like Glenn Beck wouldn’t stand a chance – you’re not legit mate. We hate bullshit and everything that comes with it, we have a bit of Texas in all of us – “Get it done, don’t whinge about it, don’t make a scene, don’t be a dickhead mate, just get it done.” Ask an apprentice tradie, he’ll tell you unequivically that the above line is like a mantra for them.

I’m not using this as an example to illustrate the naivety of Americans I’m just saying someone like Glenn Beck thrives in a country where theatrics can be used to broad stroke a point to those select few who are so inclined. If you seriously had a dude crying at the end of his shows in this country he would be laughed back to New Zealand where they intern would laugh him to Antarctica.  I kid you not the comment in the TV room would go like this “Why is that dickhead crying?” Look I’m aware he has the shit canned out of him by American comedy outlets and most people stateside every other day but the fact that he is given time and roughly 32 million a year well you bring it on yourself.Man this sounds like a personal attack, to be honest I wouldn’t mind having a character like him down here, why? Well because our politics sucks, we have a habit of electing prime ministers that are the real life equivalents of Mr Sheen.

If anything I’m not attacking Glenn personally just his theatrics and performance, but then if he’s using them to propagate what he truly believes in, so much so that it makes him cry well then maybe I am. Well f&@ me.

Now to be honest and even a little bit arrogant I think I’m one of the few people in this country who actually watch Fox News. If I’m wrong send me an email or comment, actually just comment I need the comments, actually one would suffice no matter what the content. But back to the Beck, I have a theory. The guy speaks like a WWE wrestler. If you watch how a wrestler speaks before he’s about to get into a smack down he paces around the ring carefully figuring out what word to say next. Why? Because he has no f –ing clue what he’s suppose to say next! There but for the grace of God goes Glenn Beck.

In this clip http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4DS6tTX8Wws he spends the entire clip breaking for a breath every few seconds hoping that the next word will come to him. Now watch this clip of Randy Orton and Johnny Nitro on WWE Smackdown http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBtytfWSM2I&feature=related

Yeah that’s right it’s exactly the f –ing same, in the words of Lisa Simpson when she’s in Australia “I know those words but that doesn’t make sense.” Essentially every word is weighted with a pause because the dude has no idea what his point is, it makes him appear that his words are affecting him in thought but really there is no thought going on.

When you break it down both incarnations of speech come from the world of entertainment, except for some reason if I had a WWE wrestler walking around the offices of Fox News wearing the Intercontinental Belt and spouting basic facts about Benjamin Franklin I’d probably be more inclined to believe him over the Beckster.

So that’s it for another week, if you want to comment please do. As my opener stated the World Cup is on so you better watch it as it’s truly the world’s only global sporting event. Next week I’ll talk about how getting laid and picking up have to do with meditative consciousness.

Why am I astral projecting?

Well last week I promised you a ten paragraph diatribe on the new Sex & the City film and what it meant for all of us. Well after the shit canning it’s received during the past week I’m afraid everything I wanted to say has already been said by every film critic wandering this earth. I guess that makes my job easier as those in the know are infinitely more eloquent than I am and have expressed their opinions in ways that are far more entertaining than I’m offering up on this page. Simply find a review, any review on the net that is, and you’ll get a basic idea of the type of backlash this film is receiving.

Having said that I’m going to get straight into the topic at hand before I start getting into the details of the crush I had on Kim Cattrall when the show started. Seriously she would have sex with anything on that show and you honestly thought you had a shot if you met her in the street. I’m sure in person she’s nothing like her screen counterpart Samantha but I was fifteen when the show premiered and at fifteen most guys can get turned on by something as asexual as a ham sandwich.

So for the last three years I’ve been experiencing an incredible sensation when I go to bed; and no it’s not my alone time or anything sexual. For the past three years on and off, a month here, a month there I’ve been experiencing one unbelievable thing – “THE VIBRATION” What it is essentially is an incredible vibrating feeling that encompasses my entire body. I actually remember the first time I felt it because it was on a night I couldn’t get to sleep. I kept flitting between the moment of being awake and the moment of falling asleep. It felt like the hallway between the two states and that hallway was vibrating. It never hurt it was just intense in it’s all encompassing nature. Sometimes a sound would accompany the sensation, something of the ilk of almost a digital noise. Matrix like if you will.

So this came and went and I thought nothing of it, I actually was aware that I was at the cusp of sleep and if you pose that question to most people your answer would never change. Who really knows the exact moment when they fall asleep? I guess technically it just happens. But what scared me was that because I was aware of the transition period now maybe I’ll never get back to sleep again. Well that never became a problem. What did become a problem was that in those early days or early years this sensation would sneak itself into my subconscious and I would have to endure the vibration, sometimes for a week at a time. It wasn’t scary like I said, but just a type of moment I had to endure before I could actually get some decent shut eye.

Well it’s been three years and over the course of that time what’s happened is that I’ve let the vibration take over somewhat. Why? Because of this awesome guy on the left. His name is Robert Monroe and he is considered one of the forefathers of OBE research. Actually I should of used that term as the title of this post because Astral Projection is apparently incorrect and actually refers to the interpretation of a body leaving and traveling along the astral plane. I have not done that yet but have come close…sort of. Anyway as the years passed and vibrations came and went I remember one thing from them more than anything, it was the pulling sensation as if I was being pulled out of my body, and up until right now I’ve been fighting it. Not for any other reason but I just want to go to sleep.

Yet as the weeks and months go by I find myself letting the vibrations linger a little longer and the other night I had my first vibration session for a while, needless to say I let the feeling go for it’s longest period ever but pulled back because I chickened out. Why did I chicken out? Maybe because I am scared, not of the sensation but what’s on the other side. I almost think of this practically in terms of sleep and adequate rest. “How can I charge my batteries for the next day if I’m spending all my nights traveling the planes of existence? I need my damn sleep!” The thing is I don’t really sleep huge amounts and I have a weird amount of energy, it’s not hyper activity just a slow burn that seems to just keep going, it does allow me to get a lot of things done. Anyway whatever, I’m talking shit again.

So back to Robert Monroe. On you tube about a year ago I find a few videos on him talking about his first OBE experiences. And surprise surprise they were like mine. Here is a link – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5OgyF2dyok he starts talking about it at around the five minute mark but watch the whole thing to get a run on. Basically he tells of his vibration experiences and his urge to fight it, until one day the old dude just says F*&# it and lets it consume him. “If it’s going to kill me let it kill me.”

Well guess what, it didn’t do shit. It came like usual, did it’s thing and left within about five minutes. So as time progresses he would feel this sensation whilst lying down and dosing off, he would let it happen, let it pass then get on with the rest of his day. But one time in 1958 something incredible happened. Well I’m not going to spoil it or even insult your intelligence but I’m sure my readership of one person is smart enough to figure it out.

Right now I’m at the point of holding back the pull, it’s urging me upward, outward and forward but the fact still remains I have no idea what to expect, it’s the unknown and the human condition has always been taught to be afraid of that; unfortunately. What is interesting though is when Robert did experience his first OBE he was thinking of something quite pleasant at the time and I think that is a key. You have to be in a state that is conducive to getting you to the next; it has to be a hurdle free oscillation between the two. Personally I know it’s just a matter of time before I let go but I do think this is one of the few things that us as a race need to explore because it just seems so damn obvious it’s an extension of our evolution. If we are spiritual beings having a human experience then of course our spiritual self is going to want to wander at some time or another.

Now let’s delve a little deeper, not too much or we’ll be here for ages and I’ve got a book on Vince Lombardi I want to finish reading, plus Footy Classified is on right now and I want to at least catch a little of it. So here we are vibrations and all and immediately one must think, where does it come from? Well a lot of the theories point to the pineal gland. An endocrine gland that produces serotonin, which surprise surprise modulates wake/sleep patterns. So after all of this it turns out it’s just my pineal gland is on the fritz! Of course why didn’t I think of that earlier? Although if you do your research you’ll see that the gland is held in great reverence by many cultures and even by scholars who see it as the seat of the soul. Maybe that’s why it’s the only thing in the brain that’s not doubled. Maybe because it receives everything we ingest and then processes it and spits it out. Maybe that’s the reason why it’s given the Captain Kirk style commander chair in our brain. Personally I think it has a lot to do with everything and our lack of exploration of the said gland is to our own detriment.

So that may be the origin of the vibration but who’s to say these are not just lucid dreams. Well I can say for sure because about a month ago I had an experience that proves to me this is real and that it’s a stage in our spiritual development that could teach us so much. Actually I had two experiences, one was super beneficial, the other weird. I’ll start with the weird. Like I said about a month ago I went to bed and did my thing that is sleep. What was bizarre was that I didn’t have my vibration but experienced something that you may call the result of it.

I had an OBE, literally one night I found myself floating above my body yet something was a little off. It was like I hadn’t fully awoken myself to the possibility and my body mind or spirit was only giving me a taste. I was floating but my head was still attached. Not like the picture at the top that depicts a massively boobed woman who seems to have a bedroom in the middle of a Boris Vallejo painting but instead the diagram on the left. It was like my spiritual self was doing a hand stand over my physical self still lying in the bed. Although I wasn’t using my hands I was just floating, to quote spook from Top Cat “Hey look TC, huh no hands.” I love that cartoon.

The second time something of an alternate strata occurred it actually served a purpose. A while back I received an email from the assistant of a massive Hollywood producer. Long story short they had received my query letter in the mail, watched my teaser online and requested my script to read. Now when I say massive I mean huge like big A list stuff. And me being desperate after all this time trying to get this bastard of a project off the ground almost then and there send the script sight unseen. Yet the wording of the email stopped me almost immediately, it didn’t sit right and it made me feel something inside. I don’t get gut feelings often but when I do and ignore them, I regret it. They are always right! So this time I decide to listen and that night I decide to sleep. What happened next was a dream that went no longer than a few minutes from 10: 45 – 10 : 47. I mean people were still downstairs watching TV so it wasn’t anything epic. What I dreamt though was an incredibly clear image of this female assistant and her boss reading my scrip together and taking stealing bits and pieces from it. Almost like it was a mail order catalogue.

I woke up almost instantly and knew the best thing to do was to never contact her again. No matter how desperate I get, and how long it takes I’m not going to contact her because I believe in this sign so adamantly.

So that’s it I guess, my teeth are killing me because my wisdoms are coming through, lucky I’ve only got my bottom ones. Yet the question that is always asked when I tell people this and yes I do get a lot of pointing and laughing but I’m used to it. The question is, is it a lucid dream or are you really, and I mean really experiencing the precursor signs to your standard OBE?

So if you know please comment. If you’ve had the same or are experiencing the same, again please comment. Would be great to get some writings on the board. And better yet if you’ve actually visited or know someone who’s visited the Monroe institute please write in.

Super Metroid, Santa and me.

Well like I said it was either going to be a diatribe about Sex and the City and its decade long poisoning of the contemporary woman or Super Metroid. I chose the Metroid because I’ll have to wait and see how asinine the Sex and the City sequel is before I really start slamming the tomahawk.

I don’t play video games anymore, I might play the occasional one when I rock over to a mates place but usually I loose my interest within the half hour. But to say I liked video games would be an understatement of the grandest proportions. I used to own an Atari, my uncles gave it to me when I was in Italy, and little did I know the Nintendo already superseded it at the time. From then on I got myself a SNES, and by my own lofty standards this was and still is the best system to date. I even bring it out for my 13-year-old cousin to play around with sometimes, who like me, loves his video games. Needless to say those brought up on PS 3’s and Xbox’s just don’t have the minerals to clock a SNES game. It’s the same argument where a street skater can vert skate better than a vert skater can street skate – just watch the documentary “Stoked” the rise and fall of Gator.

Anyway to me it all ended after the arrival of the PS and 64, although ironically though the PS only came into existence because of a feud between Sony and Nintendo to create a Nintendo CD style console. Needless to say I really don’t care much for video games anymore on a hands on level. I’ll read Giantbomb sometimes, keep up to date, and occasionally on a Saturday night in the city after a session on the gas and no luck with the ladies you’ll find me in an Asian video arcade on Russell st playing Street Fighter III. I’m easy to spot, I’m the only Caucasian in there, 6 foot 3, bleary eyed swaying side to side trying to wear off the alcohol round by round.

Now in terms of Super Metroid my story is actually pretty weird or special or just plain ridiculous, depends on your imbedded cynicism. Back in 1994 I was 9 going on 10, Italy had lost the World Cup in a nail biting penalty shootout against Brazil and I was at the peak of my Super Nes prowess. That year word came out about Super Metroid, it was reviewed in Magazines, TV shows (The Zone), and advertised during the early afternoons. We didn’t have the Internet and the plethora of information that inundates us today so with what limited exposure we had to the industry this was one of those very few games that was more than just it’s hype.

My story goes like this, Christmas Eve in Melbourne my Mum and I went to Myer, basically a big department store in the City. Now therein lay the holy grail of departments when you were a kid. “THE MYER TOY DEPARTMENT” before they knocked it down, before idiot dipshits ripped the start keys out of the console controllers and before they opened up the lame electronics department two levels below. Wall to wall of consoles from Megadrives to Super Nintendos,  I kid you not there would of at least been close to twenty of them, all playable, all the time. All you had to do was line up in front of the game you wanted to play and wait your turn. (That kid sort of looks like me on the right, but unlike him I didn’t have the privilege of having a Ferrari merchandise store spew all over me) Nonetheless it was an easy way for parents to leave their children, as they knew no kid in his right mind would leave their post at one of those consoles to go for a wander.  Now on this Chritmas Eve I decided to check out the games to see what had arrived, without hesitation I picked up Super Metroid, even from the box art and the pictures on the back you could tell it was going to be awesome, simply put I needed this game.  Now fast forward the next morning and I find myself opening up my presents under the tree, to my surprise and elation I tear open the wrapping to find the very game that I had coveted the day before, but how? Mum was never with me in the toy department, I never said anything about the game as I assumed she would never buy it anyway and by the time she had come to collect me I was back at the consoles. The only explanation – it was Santa.

Now it’s 2010, I’ve played the game on both Super Nes and in later years an emulator because I felt a little nostalgic, but I’ll never forget the first time I played it, finished it, watched it’s intro, read it’s instruction book, got lost in it and sometimes just sat back and listened to it’s score. Well now the time has come that someone champion this game beyond what it is now and what is out there at the moment. Call me a purist but this game is still better than any of the shit out there, including it’s latest incarnations and any other sort of shooter/adventure game. Close seconds go to the KOF series and Zelda 64. Personally the games greatness can be summed up in its key aspects below.

Mood: This game had mood to burn, you felt it, you lived it and sometimes it would go that touch further and make you drop the control and just watch, case and point the intro http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nV8y4pt5R40&feature=related It was just so engrossing, you were alone, you were on a foreign planet that once belonged to your people, you had no idea where you were and every terrain offered a new insight into your past. It was Aliens crossed with Cast Away, you felt the isolation because it was a one player game that essentially encouraged only one thing – exploration.

Graphics: At the time I can say without equivocation that no other game was close in this department, sans Street Fighter, but in terms of adventure games it stood alone. It really took that 16 bit chip to its furthest reaches, well at least until Donkey Kong came around. A lot of this had to do with the bosses, they were just so damn big and detailed. Which brings me to point three.

Bosses: They were big, they weren’t necessarily hard but they were incredible to look at and even possessed their own personalities. In today’s games I look at the 3D renders of these incredible beasts from games such as God of War and Halo and whatever the f&%@ and there is still something vacant about them. They don’t contain a personality just a lot of fireworks and a lot of sound. Even the bosses in Zelda 64 are guilty of this. One thing I always stand by is that 2D games always seemed to posses more innate character to them. Just look at the KOF ‘98 and you’ll see what I’m talking about.

Gameplay: Like it’s Nintendo predecessor where in the world would you get a game cartridge, a vague as anything instruction booklet and basically the word go when you began playing. The game was meant for exploration, it maneuvered perfectly, and only ever revealed what it had to until you had earned the rite to explore further by gaining a weapon or item. Really all you knew was that there was a Metroid, you had to find it and that you had a gun for an arm to protect you.

Secrets: The game was loaded with secrets, the crystal healing ball, the flying charge, the multiple ways you could kill a boss, the permutations once you collected every gun upgrade – do I freeze or do I zap? The planet and it’s hidden nooks and crannies that concealed further missile supplies, health tanks, super bombs and super missiles. All this added to the games depth, you could finish it but really when you look back, did you really finish it?

Music: Probably the most significant thing about this game was probably it’s most understated attribute, it’s score. I’ll leave you with four words; You Tube – red soil.

Add to this the intro, the back story and the fact that Samus was a girl and what you have here is a game that just transcended everything at the time. It was just that good. So good in fact that it became the base plate to Castlevania SOTN on the PS. An incredible game in it’s own right that also adopted the side scrolling mechanic. In fact it’s so similar people tend to call it Metroidvania. Funnily enough games like this don’t exist anymore, even though the newest installment of Super Metroid for the Wii claims that it will have side scrolling elements, having seen the preview video it doesn’t really have the same effect when rendered in 3D. The closest we can hope for at the moment is a game called Shadow Complex, which has come out on the Xbox and actually looks quite fantastic. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNcIIgeoctc&feature=fvst

If you watch the intro you’ll see the developers talking about their influences – no surprises there as both games really just used Metroid as a base template.

The biggest thing for me about this game now is it’s cinematic value. From what I’ve read the games rights are still owned by John Woo. Now I’m not saying John Woo is a hack but I can assure you this game is too deep for his level of gunplay. At the genesis of this game and its story are the themes of isolation and belonging. Samus has no family, her adopted people the Chozo are now extinct and yet she has to return home to find a metroid that displays distinct child behvior towards her. These are the core elements, so much so that I’ve actually written a Super Metroid script and like I said I’ve tried to make it a cross between Aliens and Cast Away. There isn’t much dialogue and what is, is her relaying her findings back to her ship console as she explores her once home planet.  Wow four her’s in that last sentence.

I really want to see this game turned into a movie because it really has all the elements to be truly great. I’ve written at least four drafts and if my career goes according to plan it would be the fourth movie I make. Put it this way, I’m such a Super Metroid fan that my email alert sound is the brass orchestral interlude when Samus finds a power up item. When I wrote the first draft and subsequent ones thereafter I listened to the Red Soil theme and it’s later remixes on loop, actually I’m listening to it right now. Seriously I want to make this film and sometimes and this may sound crazy but I think I was given this game when I was ten for more than just the sheer thrill of playing it. Yeah that sounds crazy but I guess that’s better than being stupid.

That being said I still rant on about the game to anyone who wants to listen when the topic of video games comes up. Which to be honest is almost never, now in the wake of my friends and their engagements, sporting commitments, mortgage repayments and them trying to climb the corporate ladder this topic is just relegated to a once a year thing if I’m lucky.

Hopefully someday I will make this film, but for the mean time I’m going to pretend I didn’t just dedicate a whole  f –ing post to Super Metroid. The nerd in me won out today, now he’s going to cop the beating of a lifetime.

If you have a Metroid story, or have anything to say go for it. Next post is Crap in the City or astral projection.

Superstars in brown paper bags.

A few weeks back when I was watching the telecast of Geelong versus Port, I think it was Port…yeah it was definitely Port, wait it could’ve of been… whatever it doesn’t matter who we played because we flogged them what was important was that my favourite current player was having a stellar game before he got injured – Joel Corey. He is the one on the left. If you have to know who my favourite player of all time is, well that would be Daryl White and I can assure you I’m more than willing to waste a post on that guy but maybe when I start running out of topics. But what was so defining about that game was not the performance or the win, it was a comment made by one of the commentators. If you’re reading this from anywhere but Australia I’ll give you a quick rundown of this one commentator in particular

His name is Dennis Cometti and in terms of commentating he is like Australia’s version of Bob Costas, well Bob Costas is more of an amalgamation of Cometti and Macavaney but I won’t split hairs. Cometti down here is legend, and his comments are even more so. Apparently a few weeks ago he even slipped a HBO “Entourage” comment something to the tune of former Essendon great Matthew Lloyd and then following it with the name Ari Gold. Anyway on this given day when the Cats were playing the game as it should be played he commented on Joel Corey. After Joel had done his usual job of selfless sacrifice for the team Cometti as per usual threw out one of his gold nuggets and coined the phrase “Joel Corey, a superstar in a brown paper bag.”

If you want to hear some more “Commettisms” just follow this link, but if you don’t follow Aussie Rules is may be a little difficult to understand. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9RwolX1IFo&feature=related

So back to Joel Corey and to a wider extent those who achieve and succeed without the fanfare that may accompany their contemporaries. Oh and on a quick note and don’t roll your eyes but Corey has an awesome beard, yes I raise one fist in the air to my bearded brethren, we will fight back! So the question here is, why does the public overlook these people? I know for a fact that Joel is immensely respected around the club and in an article I read a year ago it outlined his no nonsense bullshit attitude towards the game. He may not get the accolades of a Gazza or a Bartel but I assure you those two men would rather nobody else beside them in the heat of Septmeber.

Now this can be attributed to any sport, vocation, profession or calling because we all know one brown bagged superstar and are more than in awe of them when they achieve and even more bamboozled when they walk away and don’t make a f – ing big deal about it. I’m slowly starting to get it, and I think it’s that truism where “The only thing that should speak is the result.” The success lies in the result because it’s really the only true indicator of talent. Not the words that precede it or the celebration that follows. Wait a second I think I just came up with that on my own, let me Google that saying to see if someone else has coined it…………………………

Nope, f@$% it, it’s mine now – “The only thing that should speak is the result.”

Now if we delve a little deeper, are these people avoiding the accolades on purpose? Do they only live for the competition, like Ryu from Street Fighter II? Well you have to finish the game to find out that one. Honestly there are two sides to people and I honestly think as time progresses one of the two wins out. One side competes for the glory the other for the greater good, almost like a Chariots of Fire scenario. I personally am leaning into the later, going back to my last post about Oprah you start to realize that good deeds are still good deeds regardless of whether people see them or not. There result is always the same, it’s the intention that changes. “Are they watching me do this? Are they cheering me when I do this? Because if they don’t cheer then what’s the point?” You really do start to respect the guy/girl who gets it done without the fanfare because you realize their true intentions from the get go and that’s wherein lies the respect.

So let’s track back in history now and look at some of the best “Superstar Bagers” the world has offered up or least I can remember at this very moment. But wait, if I can remember that means somewhere down the line they received some sort of notoriety, which completely contradicts my posts contention! Wait, that then means I’m talking shit which has been the point of all my posts all along, okay that was a close one. I may also include those who are underrated as I think you could encompass that hemisphere of un heralded brilliance within this giant Brown Paper Bag.

Well I already talked about Joel Corey, one of the main pistons that operates in the Geelong midfield. He also was one of the first ones around when their absolute dominance started to become apparent to the rest of the competition back in early 2007 – thankyou Richmond,   but lets look at some others.

Fred Hollows – now this guy was a f – ing champ.  An ophthalmologist whose work and research in eye restoration has helped more than one million people to this date see again. He died in 1993, which would’ve made me ten at the time, and to be honest I wasn’t really aware of his good work until his death. I guess a lot of people weren’t until they uncovered the legacy that he left behind. Why I chose Fred is because the foundation that bears his name still advertises today and in one snippet of footage from the commercial we get Fred Hollows in a nutshell. “Every eye is an eye and is just as important as if you were doing eye surgery on the Prime Minister or the King.” This is played over footage of Fred himself operating on a poor villager from Nepal or Cambodia or some impoverished South East Asian nation. I mean not only did he operate, but he taught others how to operate in those still developing nations so that his work could live on . Add to this his work with indigenous Australians in his early years and it’s easy to see why it’s almost an insult for me to try and some up this mans contribution in a quarter of a post.

Nicola Tesla – Now when everyone was rubbing one out over Thomas Edison this guy was actually going over the schematics of Edison’s work and making electrical current useable in the form of alternating current. Although in the end Tesla did win out in the “Battle of Currents” he was seen as a little crazy and eccentric and thus dismissed regularly in comparison to Edison. Nothing against Edison but when you read about Tesla you realize whom the real genius of the two were. Tesla was Croatian, one of my very best mates is Croatian – I think they are all wired in a certain way where they are naturally gifted for math or numbers in some sort of capacity. But with Tesla he was someone who went above and beyond and didn’t give a shit what people thought. I guess that’s another attribute of those with the coverage of the paper bag the result and the excitement that goes with its discovery outweighs any kudos a man can offer. Of the many things that Tesla would invent or hypothesize about were, the transmission of electrical energy without wires using the Earths electrical conductivity, the everyday automotive spark plug, a cosmic death ray which was termed a “directed energy weapon” which evidently was the early blue print of a particle beam. Add to this his aptitude for languages – Czech, English, French, German, Hungarian, Italian and Latin and it’s obvious this guy was nothing short of remarkable. It’s also noted that he was theorizing about a ion propelled aircraft which would fly without the need of propellers, an onboard engine or petroleum based fuel source. What he envisioned was an anti gravity differential, think about it, he’s proposing the sort of theories that we as a species are only starting to look into now! Actually to be fair we already have this technology acquired from species far more advanced than ours but cannot make it public until we finish all our oil. But once again I say, another post, another time, another crime.

Yet like always our man here is not really appreciated until people take the time to revel in his true genius. Seriously take the time read a little about this cat, he’s a fascinating mother f – ker. Better yet if you’re in Serbia visit his museum, I guess you only a get a museum once the brown paper bag has been lifted.

So there are two people but I could go on and name thousands more, remember you can include underrated here. The band Dragonette, what you have here is a band, specifically it’s lead singer who were and still are out gagaing lady gaga before she knew what she was doing or why she was doing it. OR maybe it’s because I have a massive thing for lead singer Martina Sorbara. http://www.claireo.co.uk/_wp_generated/wp25080974.jpg

Nonetheless their brand of Tampon Pop as termed by Martina herself was and still is infectious and relatively smarter than the crap you hear on the radio today.

Sam Rockwell is another one but I feel this guy is now getting the kudos he deserves, I could also mention the late Pat Tillman, the safety for the Arizona Cardinals but once again they have now made a doco on the guy mainly because he was one of the few very  multi dimensional players in the NFL. This guy from what I heard would scale ten story buildings on a whim whilst reading books about the theory of consciousness and religion and finish it all up with a meditation session on the top of the light towers that adorned Sun Devil stadium. Robert Smigel, a man some consider one of the best sketch comedy writers ever well at least in my opinion and the opinion of a lot of the SNL staff.

I guess that’s all I can think of off the top of my head. Wait I’ll throw in one more….ah maybe not, actually I propose a family member, mostly your parents. Especially during those teenage years where they would have had every right to take a bat to your head in the midst of your complaining.

There are other names that come to mind such as Laird Hamilton, Phillip Glass, Ferran Adria and Jose Mourinho – I’m a Chelsea supporter and I’m aware that he has been long gone, but still. These people are really masters of their craft and are known for being so during their tenure. The people I talk of now are the ones who don’t seem to get recognized until later or maybe even never. I guess I missed the whole point of the post, why? I guess I can’t answer that because I’m not them and maybe they themselves can’t answer it because it’s just not that important.

So like usual feel free to comment, it would be nice to have somebody’s voice on here that isn’t my own. And if you know of any other Superstar Bagers, let us know and by us I mean me and the other six people who apparently read this blog. Until next week keep up the good work as it will either be Super Metroid or Sex in the City.

Oh wait here’s another one Takeshi Kitano, yes I’m aware he’s been the most popular guy in Japan for the last twenty years but outside of that he’s relatively unknown. I urge you to watch one of his films, the guy is coolness cubed.

Oprah, does she care? I don’t know.

For some reason over  the past couple of  weeks since starting  this blog I’ve had an  urge to dedicate a post  to this woman and the  effect she has had on  this planet. Now first  up I don’t want to add  my name to the long  and  undistinguished      list of Oprah bashers that have come out of the woodwork  this past month.

But I do want to address a few things about her that I think  she needs to change in order to maker herself loved again, a deconstruction  of the highest order if you will is really her only solution. But I’ll get to that  later.

First of all why am I finding it so difficult to write a post about Oprah? Well  for one I’m a white male, not a black male, a female, a celebrity or best yet, a black female. That is the order of importance in terms of ratings and her own affinity. Now believe me I just got finished reading this book by Itzhak Bentov – “A brief tour of higher consciousness.”

Needless to say this 100 page piece of literature blew my f –ing mind and I so desperately want to talk about it but feel I’m not ready, but I do implore you to give it a shot because it has pictures and everything! Add to that, that I just heard of this dude called Herschel Walker – http://www.frumpzilla.com/image_gallery/Herschel-Walker-MMA-Weigh-In.jpg who is 47, eats only one meal a day, sleeps only four hours a night, does 1000 sit ups and push ups a day, is a vegetarian and a former Heisman trophy winner and now fully fledged MMA competitor. Now this is a guy I want to dedicate a post to, and I will. But for the moment I must press on or I will never get this one down on paper or the internet or whatever.

Anyway the real reason why the big O is getting my attention this week is because this post will actually for once and maybe the only time correlate directly to the next post which will be about superstars in brown paper bags. But once again I must digress the topic is Oprah and Oprah it shall be.

Well it seems to be that for the past month the main bone of contention in all this Oprah bashing comes from her alleged poor lifestyle which in fact became her alleged privileged lifestyle. It’s not a crime to have a privileged upbringing, it’s no crime to even hide it, but for some reason it is seen as a crime to lie about it, and when you use that image of a poor rural southern girl to attract viewers and create the ideal of an everywoman I guess you’re going to tick a few people off. Personally I couldn’t give a shit, the same goes for the Tiger Woods scandal. It’s not the act of cheating on his wife that has people in uproar, it’s the fact he cheated the public with his duplicitous lifestyle. As if we owned him, so I assume with Oprah we feel cheated or at least the middle aged women who sit at home watching her wishing they had a married a nicer husband. You said you were poor bitch! You said you said you had nothing! You said you were one of us! Well I hate to break it to you but when you host a TV show, and one that rates as phenomenally as hers and rakes in the fiscal deficit of Guatemala, well then you have no chance of remaining the every person.

Where my gripe and hopefully solution comes in, is at the basic physical level and her relation to those beyond her demographic. I’ll start with the most primary of stuff, her on camera behavior. Now bear with me here because we’re going to traverse a little bit, but it will be worth it.

A while back, well f – ing years ago I was in Italy visiting my family, long story short all of my Mums side and some of my Dad’s side live there. Now I don’t go as often as I should because most if not all my funds go into me trying to launch a damn film career. But when I am there I do take great pleasure in watching Italian TV. Why? Because the female presenters on there are so unbelievably hot and their co presenters are so unbelievably old that it makes for some awesome watching. I mean these guys are so f – ing old that my Mum remembers them when she was a kid. Anyway some of the games played on these shows were ludicrous and would never fly anywhere else in the world. For example: Feel up the host and guess her measurements or she keeps hitting you with eggs in the face, get put in a bath tub with a near naked host as she stops you trying to empty the bath tub of all the soaps. Can you imagine watching this stuff as a 14 year old! It was downright f – ing awesome but at the time I just wished I was alone.

If you want further info order the RAI channel and just watch Buona Domenica, there you’ll see Sara Varone and you’ll understand what I’m on about or better yet just watch this compilation – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfd_FwA-voU

Now let me bring this back to Oprah. Essentially the one failing of all these show hosts in Italy is this one very simple fact; they look at themselves too much in the monitor. Now I don’t know if this is a bad performance tick bred into them at presenting school but next time you watch Oprah watch her closely, especially on an episode where Celine Dion is singing. What you’ll witness is her clapping away whilst constantly looking left of the main camera, why?  Because that’s where the monitor is and what she is telling us is this; do I look good? do I look good? do I look good? do I look good? do I look good? It’s a major problem and now she seems to be suffering from it even when doing a basic interview. Simply put she’s not interested in the subject anymore, 10 – 15 years ago yeah, she was, but she was overweight back then and surely not too keen to on keeping tabs on herself. It’s a sort of self-absorption that is distancing herself from her viewers. She has to cut this out whether on her current show or any other one she decides to undertake. Do I look good? do I look good? do I look good? do I look good? do I look good?

Secondly there is no doubt that Oprah is a very well meaning person, she  likes to give things away and I’m sure a lot of it has to do with the deep  seeded psychosis of guilt. Hell if I had the money I would do the same thing,  that thought of, why am I here whilst some poor bastard in Africa is  drinking out of a dirty puddle? If we look back at her trade mark give aways  you do see that she gives out a lot of crap. Whether it be a free ipod, or a new  house, or a new car or just making somebody’s day better. We all agree she  is a giver and in the early days once again I’m sure the intent was to make a  difference, it probably still is but is it the focus? Well not anymore.

Never before have I seen a show where the act of giving was more about the  giver than the receiver, once again watch it next time and take note of how  many times the camera focuses on Oprah, yes it will focus on the screaming lady jumping up and down but the clear message in the piece is anything but. I Oprah am giving this thing to you, now let’s watch your reaction to me as I give you this thing and you scream up and down like a lunatic in my honour. This point relates exactly to my superstars in brown paper bags. Oprah wants you to know she is doing this stuff, she wants you to see it and she wants you to talk about it. It’s good stuff she’s doing no doubt but I really don’t need to hear about it, like they say in Texas – “Just get it done”

Lastly, and this has to do with the next phase of her career, is the network thing. Now I read somewhere that she is in the midst of creating or putting the completing touches on her very own network she’s calling low and behold OWN, no prizes for guessing what it stands for. Now this runs completely juxtapose to the image she has cultivated over the past 25 years. To own a network is to take that next step into media mogulship – is that a word? Whatever,  you are a Kerry Packer, a Ted Turner or to it’s fullest extent, a Rupert Murdoch. When we think of these guys the term “Common Man” is not bandied around too often. They’re rich, we know that, they know that and they make no bones that their objective is to make more no matter what. I’m not poo pooing money it’s just these men have an image and it’s one I think Oprah should definitely consider not adopting as there is every chance she will be tarred with the same brush as she knocks on the door of the club house.  I don’t know if the network will do anything but bring her more money, is that her purpose or does she really want to permeate the minds of those who need guidance. I guess it can be both.

Overall I think the dip in popularity comes at a time when people want someone who may be rich but doesn’t talk about it, famous but doesn’t name drop and sadly but in some way does there best to conceal everything they have achieved. It’s that argument – “Just because your rich doesn’t mean we want your help.” Actually I think I made that up then.

But look at Ellen for instance, apparently she now out rates Oprah in the boring who  gives a shit, day time lunch spot, you know why? Because she just wants to have a good  time, she doesn’t mention friends, she doesn’t mention her past life or even her present  life. She may earn millions but we sure don’t hear about it, and unless the message is  coming in through her interpretive dance we really don’t know that much about her.  Oprah on the other hand may be a victim of the come back 90’s, being modest about your  craft it becoming cool again in the wake of the gaudy gold onslaught of  rappers with  spinning wheel necklaces and thirty people in their entourage  – Loyd Banks I’m looking  in  your direction. Wow he does look like Craig David, although Craig never won a  lyricist  title.

So what is my solution and why should anyone give a shit? Well they shouldn’t as it’s 11:30 at night and I’m sure we’ve all got better things to do and my opinion is worth next to nothing when in regards to the woman who has nearly accomplished everything this planet has to offer.

But I do suggest this. Oprah has to go away, and not like for a month but for like a year or two. Erase herself from our minds and just break the components of what made her successful down to their simplest forms. She’s too rich to be one of us, and too famous to be someone else. So what can she be? I say someone who used to host a talk show and now just helps people without having to televise it. But then again maybe she has to lead by example, then again I just spent a whole f – ing blog post talking about Oprah. I want my hour and a half back.

Well I’m done again for another week, like usual comment if you feel the need to abuse me, or have an Oprah story or simply got caught rubbing one out whilst watching Italian variety hour TV. Or just comment because I don’t have any yet.

People who feed their children roll ups are bad parents.

You’re going to have to bear with  me on this post because I’m  feeling pretty wired tonight and  the synapses upstairs are working  thick and fast. Having said that I  whole-heartedly stand by my  statement for two reasons. 1) I  never got the privilege of eating  the coveted “roll up” when I was a  child at school. 2) It was an  Italian thing, my parents didn’t  trust something that had a colour  and shape that didn’t represent  anything of this earth.

Let me back track a few steps and provide an origin story of the roll up, this will segway into enzyme rich foods, food additives, why I have a stupid amount of energy and why constipation is the number one cause of general crankiness in people. To be honest our evolution depends on it, and will only manifest when we learn the benefits of a diet that can clarify the mind.

But back to the aforementioned roll up. Back in the early 90’s when Jeremy Jordan and his hit song “The right kind of love” was dominating the airwaves something of an event happened to most of the kids and their school recesses. It was called the “Roll Up.” Now I know in the US this hit lunch boxes at around 1980 but in Australia we are ten years behind on the important stuff so it came to us in the 90’s along with the answer to who shot JR. Simply put this new found flat shaped, pectin-based fruit-flavored candy was an instant hit and when I mean instant I mean I spent my recess time begging the Aussie kids for a bite. How could you not, I mean did you see the colours! Did you see its shape! It was flat! No food on earth at that time was flat! Except for mountain bread, and to be rocking around with that in grade 2 would of just been powerfully uncool or very Lebanese of me or both and I was neither.

So as time passed I got my hands on a few, they tasted nice, they tasted sweet, it was as close to an orgasm an eight year old was ever going to get, but by no means did it ever taste like fruit. Manufactured by Uncle Toby’s down under, in the US they were made by General Mills. A consortium that owns other consortiums and then makes them do things – like make fruit flat. I wonder if Illinois Congressman Robert Smith back in 1856 had any idea that he would change the recess food landscape almost 150 years later – you know my eight year old self would have saluted him and the makers of fruit loops – I haven’t touched a fruit loop for almost 7 years now, partly because they shoot through me like a shopping centre food court Indian curry, yet I still keep going back!

Now here in lies the fun part, let us brake down a roll up into it’s components.

1)    It’s flat.

2)    It’s comes in an variety of colours that are consistent with the fruit’s flavour it’s trying to mimic.

3)    It comes rolled up and given it’s use by date the thing can last over a year and cover up rough holes and stuff.  Rumor has it NASA patched up the Endeavour STS-49 space shuttle back in 92 using the raspberry ones.

None of these things scream natural to me, even when they claim to put 40 percent more fruit juice the fact of the matter is the thing still contains ingredients that have to be described by numbers because they are synthesized in a lab and haven’t come up with a name for them yet. I don’t remember going out to the back yard to my (368) tree and picking a couple of ripe (368’s) to make a delicious (368) cake, yes I make cakes, they’re delicious, but that’s not the point. The point is these things still litter the supermarkets and still sell in large quantities to lazy parents who have no dramas killing their kids. It’s not an if or a but, it’s a fact. You are feeding your child a synthesized sheet of electric blue plastic.

Now compare that to what my uncle made almost 15 years ago, smashed fruit, pureed in a blender then spread over flat inside a home fruit dryer. You know what came out? A brown turd looking roll up cigar that tasted like what it was made of – fruit. I kid you not he basically fished this thing out of a public toilet but the thing that surprised me the most was it’s shelf life. It had none, I mean it was edible but you had to eat it right away or the damn thing went rock hard. That’s what fruit does, it goes bad because that’s its job, it replenishes that from which it once came from – the earth.

Now what I notice as a person desperately trying to go vegetarian is this. The more raw foods I eat, the more food of this earth that I ingest the more energy I have. It’s a simple matter that when I’m on set or at work the people who hit the wall at 4pm are the ones who have half a kilo of lasagna in their lower intestine that has to be digested. That takes work, it takes enzymes, it takes energy. Now I love lasagna but I’m smart enough to know that eating that shit while I still have eight hours of work left is going to put me to sleep. Simple fact your body has no idea what it’s doing, it’s only objective is to negotiate the lasagna and get it digested. If that takes three quarters of your energy and half of your allocated enzymes for the day then so be it. You’ll be looking 85 in no time and be asleep by 4:30 pm, and that’s a fact.

Yet what astounds me is that people are actually aware of this yet continue down the path. They see it in their eyes, they smell it in their breath and they witness it attacking their complexion. Our surface, especially our face is a reflection of what’s going on inside, and I can tell you most of us are putrefying from the inside out. Your body is giving you a visual warning that all is not right beneath the surface.

Wow I’m getting preachy, well f*#@ it, it’s a matter of getting everyone to a basic functioning standard. I can already see my mates holding their left temple knowing somewhere, somehow I’m spouting this crap, I think they just block it out after all these years. But time will tell as it always does and the number usually rounds out at about 50. I’ve heard stories about mates mates who only eat potato and drink coke, don’t eat fruit or only have juice as their source of natural roughage – don’t get me started on supermarket juice, it’s sugar and water in a f—ing bottle.

“Then I’ll tell you a story that will shrink your balls to the size of raisins.”

– Notting Hill

I once heard about a friend of a friend I used to work with at a factory. Long  story short this mate of a mate of his had a food intake that consisted  entirely of potato, meat, coke and chocolate bars. Years later he found  himself with his bare ass in the air on a medical gurney with a hoard of  doctors slamming a five-foot, steel rock chisel up his anus. Why? Oh, I’ll  tell you why. What happened is simple, his body shut down, just like that,  and soon enough your body is telling you f*&% it! I’ve had enough, how am  I supposed to function with the limited resources you feed me, in fact it’s a  harder job trying to synthesize any energy from this dead shit inside then if  you fed me nothing at all. So the body manifests this in a variety of ways,  arthritis, cancer, infection or in old mates case a rock solid ball of what can  only be described as petrified shit that blocked his lower bowel. I kid you not  when the doctors pulled the damn thing out it crumbled like a fallen  asteroid!

Now that is what I heard and I have no trouble believing it because it makes sense, it’s a basic blockage and the dude the next week was apparently drinking water and eating veggies like his life depended on it, because guess what, it does. His lower half was black and blue and I’m sure he still wakes up in the middle of the night with the image of himself jolting back and forth with every slam of that rock chisel.

When you think about it a lot of people are cranky due to just the simple things, flu, headache, lack of energy and like I said at the start, constipation. The rule I go by is that if you don’t go at least once a day you should do something about it. It has nothing to do with how your specific body works, “oh that’s how it works for me.” Nah not buying it, you eat everyday so you should crap every day. It’s not a 3:1 ratio of days eating to days crapping. It should be a 1:1 ratio. You see it in people now; they even made a joke of it in the film Knocked Up;

Pete: So what do you think? Should we have sex tonight?

Debbie: Ugh… sounds awful… I’m just really constipated. Do you really want to?

Pete: Well, now!

So there it is, from the basic roll up to an intestinal blockage, it’s pretty simple that this planet is providing the food already, we’re just getting bamboozled by the packaging and the prices. Technically this food is free or was at least hundreds of years ago if it weren’t for genetically modified seeds, which only germinate once.

We just got to look back to go forwards, grow our own foods and rebuild ourselves in the form of what we were intended. Our food is of this planet and nothing on this earth ever grew as a star, a loop, hoop, spiral or in alphabet letters. It came in odd shapes that didn’t always taste awesome but always did its job, it kept us alive.

Once again feel free to comment, God knows I need at least one, it can be anything from abuse, to your own constipation story or your very first roll up experience.