As I was at home today I happened to speak with a relative in Australia. OK, it was early evening his time and early morning my time, but he happened to mention that – apart from having had a couple of G&Ts – he was listening to some cheesy Christmas tracks.

This, spookily, got me thinking. I do like some Chrismas songs – carols are good for example – but… and here’s where I think a Shitopedia entry is deserved, WTF is/are ‘Do they know it’s Christmas?’ or ‘Fairytale of New York’ about?! I find it highly unlikely that a muslim child in Somalia is going to understand the relevance of Christmas, and what has a random Irish song about a boat (at its most obvious) got to do with the festive season?

Then there’s Wham.

Oh, and Elton John.

’nuff said I think.

Christmas songs (but not carols!) – shite.

Happy Christmas and/or relevant festive occasion to one and all.

{edit – slapping myself for a superfluous apostrophe}

How very seasonal! How very wonderful! The day when we all get to lie to each other and call it a joke.

April fools gags can be funny – wearing a sling to work, saying you won £5,000 on a scratchcard, or something equally harmless and witty, but when newspapers and tv stations feel the need to invent stories to ‘catch us out’ I draw the line. That’s not funny. That’s business as usual.

Its hardly a great prank to come up with a plausible story which just isn’t true. Despite using clever word play, or some oh so hilariously named sources.

Surely the most annoying character that the BBC has ever come up with. Not cute. Not funny. Just really, really annoying.

You’d have thought that the licence fee would at least cover some decent script writers.

Last night we watched Derren Brown, sois-disant Mentalist (mental might be the word) or illusionist, who had trailed his Channel 4 show, The System, as a foolproof way of beating the bookmakers.

He purported to show a single mother, whom he had e-mailed anonymously with five horse racing winners in a row, then was to invite her to Sandown where she was to back a certain horse, the “sixth winner”, with all the money she could muster. She had about £1,000 left from her earlier winnings, borrowed £1,000 from her father and, if maths are right, must have borrowed £2,000 (which she could ill afford) from a loan company.

Brown had her hand him this £4,000 for him to stake for her on Moon Over Miami. Which lost.

The untold hurt she must have felt must have been appalling. I have never in my life seen a show with such a rank, vile, bullying element – not even the dreaded Big Brother.

The denouement was that, of course, the ticket he had handed her had the winner’s name on it, and she collected.

But what he did was unforgiveable, utterly.

The System actually involved contacting some 7,500 or more ordinary people, sending one-sixth of them the name of one horse each in a six-runner race. All losers were then deleted and the “winning” group then divided again into six groups, again given one name each of a further six: so of course, eventually, there were a handful of six people with Five Winners In a Row.

All the “winners” were filmed betting in their fifth race, without yet meeting Brown. Only the winning ticket, the lady featured in the show, was asked back to the appalling torture-fest which was the final game.

The credits said that “all losers were offered their stakes back”, but does not make it clear whether they accepted or not.

This was television at its lowest point. For shame, Derren Brown; for shame, Channel 4.

Every now and then, a fashion or style comes along that leaves sensible people the world over shaking their heads in disbelief. One of the worst, and most frustratingly here-to-stay, is the Metrosexual Male.

There are several examples of metrosexual styling, not least in the mish-mash world of sporting celebrity, just think of the following:

• David Beckham (sarongs, long hair, short hair, permatan, etcetera)
• Christiano Ronaldo (greasy ever-changing hairstyles, purse carrying, permatan)
• Dennis Rodman (an early adopter of metrosexual style: coloured hair, hout cuture (i.e. ridiculous) fashion, etc)
• Most soccer players (permatan, straightened hair, pink shirts)

For reasons only known to the world of fashion, some time around the year 2001, men everywhere suddenly decided that hair-straighteners were for them; that moisturiser was a must-have product; and that anyone who didn’t use a sunbed at least once a week was clearly not as special as them. They were wrong.

At the time, I was relatively unconcerned: this must surely disappear as all other fads and fashions are apt, however, it seems, I was wrong.

One can only imagine the bathroom hours that are now entirely wasted by men who, in years gone by, would simply have sprayed a bit of deoderant on and brushed some water through their day old hair-gel.

Now everywhere I look in the city streets, all I can see is baby-faced boys, with highlighted hair, wearing pink, sipping moccha lattes.

Unfortunately, it would seem that metrosexuals are here to stay – there is now a cornucopia of mens health and other such magazines on the market. Even FHM, once the domain of men’s men, now features “products” – by products, I of course mean useless overpriced creams, and shaving products designed to give “that day old stubble look” which are in fact just ordinary soap which costs 20 times the normal price.

The worst aspect of all of this (and this is another aspect which is creeping into society as a whole) is that the metrosexual male has fostered the belief that he is somehow a celebrity. He wants VIP access to nightclubs; to drink the finest champagne; to have the latest and greatest hair care products; and a new hair-do each week. And all of this on a builder’s wages.

Metrosexual males: over-preened, over-tanned and over-drawn.

Fuel boycotts are utterly useless.

Here’s the premise: fuel (petrol, gasoline) is too expensive, what can we do? Boycott fuel for a day (or a week, or, as the French enjoy so much, block all the fuel trucks in with tractors/wagons)! Then they’ll surely reduce the price. Cash back for all!

Except the issue just isn’t that simple, now, is it?

1. Not buying your fuel for one day, or one week, or even a month, does not reduce the reliance we, as a society, and as individuals, have on petrol and other oil based fuel;
2. Oil is a dwindling resource, basic economics would dictate that an ever increasing demand (more and more people requiring more and more fuel) will lead to an increase in price whether you wait until Tuesday to buy your gas or not;
3. The burning of fossil fuels is a leading contributory factor in climate change (global warming) – this is scientifically proven FACT, despite what some people still try to argue – making fuel cheaper would not help the situation improve (and, no, simply pointing the finger at China, or America, does not absolve YOU from responsibility).

If all the people who get so indignant every time the fuel price increases by a marginal, affordable, amount actually put their heads together to lobby, in some way, for a viable alternative to fossil fuels, perhaps human society could develop in a more sustainable fashion.

Instead, we make knee-jerk reactions and attempt to fight an impossible battle: against time, and market forces.

Am I the only one who sees this as crazy behaviour?

It is precisely the same people who moan and groan the loudest about the price of fuel who will say things like “well the Chinese are the worst greenhouse gas emitters, and they’ll never stop, so I don’t see why I should have to pay £1 per litre.”

A hideous argument, that smacks of the type of selfishness which has seen the world hold back development in the name of profit and the bottom line. Think about it.

Do these people really think we could not have developed a carbon neutral car if we’d put any real effort or thought into it? We have split the atom. We have developed nuclear weapons that have the capability of destroying the Earth, and probably the rest of the solar system too. We have the technology and skill to clone human beings. Do you really believe that we could not have developed a simple electric car?

So this is an open message to anyone who is still suggesting a fuel boycott in order to reduce the price of petrol (gasoline / any other type of fossil fuel):

Shut your mouths. Get some perspective.

“Networking” involves standing in a room with (ostensibly) like-minded individuals who share a common desire to shaft one another given the first opportunity but must first bandwaggon in order to get into the position of being a “shafter” as opposed to a “shaftee”.

Networking is the activity through which this may be achieved. It normally involves liberal scattering of business cards, excessive “brown-nosing”, feigning interest, management speak and finger food.

This last element invokes the “free rider problem” whereby those looking for a free lunch can join the munal bullshitting in return for a selection of salmon hors d’oeuvres and crappy wine.

See also: handing out business cards (to everyone)

What has happened to Pluto?

And I don’t mean the lovable dog belonging to Mickey Mouse.

How many people does it take to demolish a planet?

Only 424.

Turned to a dwarf

Pluto has been downgraded to the status of a dwarf planet and no longer counts as our ninth planet of the solar system.

This was decided on the last day of the International Astronomical Union in August 2006, late and after most of the delegates had left.

Alan Stern, leader of the NASA New Horizons Mission to Pluto, said: “Less than five per cent of the world’s astronomers voted. I’m embarrassed for astronomy.”

I am obliged to the Observer Book of Space, published with the Observer newspaper on 11 November 2007, for all this information, as well as for a piece on the 1974 Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence message sent from Arecibo, Puerto Rico.

This was, in brief, a numerical message which would form a picture explaining who we, human beings, are. It included a representation of our solar system.

With nine planets.

As it should be.

Let’s Get Together

Surely we can find more than 424 people who wish to BRING BACK PLUTO and reinstate it as a planet, returning it to the fold.

Join me in the quest by joining the Facebook Group, Bring Back Pluto.

My father, an American born in 1901, insisted that we four children learn the names of the planets from the sun outwards and he was only 29 when Pluto was discovered. He would tell us how exciting that discovery was. In his memory, I hope to re-instate our ninth planet to its full glory.

After all, in his lifetime he learned of the first flight at Kittyhawk and of the first discoverey Pluto and watched the first men walk on the Moon and even worked in the space industry himself. From horse and buggy, to space travel in one man’s lifetime. BRING BACK PLUTO to honour him and all those who have lived in that amazing 20th century.

• For those wishing to know, Pluto the Disney character was named after the planet on its discovery.

Owing to a number of comments and posts on the subject, the time has come for poor grammar to be given a special mention here on The Shitopedia. I do not pretend to be a literary giant or a guardian of my mother tongue. I, too, make mistakes and typos. However, poor grammar in its worst form is infuriating. Nothing gives me less pride in my nation than to hear a Brit abroad say something along the lines of, “Oh yeah we been everywhere. We done Melbourne, we done Sydney”.
continue reading "Poor Grammar"

The artistry and pure ingenuity of these animations is admirable -but why are they so strange?

Nothing has ever quite disturbed me as watching these cartoons. Maybe it was just poor translation or maybe they really were as bizarre as the script suggested.

Since Pokemon became so popular, people started to watch other Japanese manga and anime cartoons. I watched Akira, I film that left me feeling bewildered and unresolved in some way. Perhaps it was because I didn’t understand what the characters were doing, why they were doing it and what the end result was.

I managed to enjoy Akira and several episodes of Pokemon, only because my younger brother and I descended into fits of giggles every time we watched them.

I realise that there are some decent Japanese animations out there. What I am ranting against in this shitopedia post is the utterly incomprehensible, acid-induced, transcendental manga-style cartoons that make more sense through the lens of opiates than through the normal concentration of an open-minded film lover.