Am I missing something here?

I honestly do try to be open-minded. But if there is one thing that I just cannot abhor, it is the genre of music known as Hip-Hop, or more specifically, "Gansta Rap". Even though I'm told whenever I turn down another Hollywood blockbuster or animated Disney/Pixar film with a smirk, that I'm stuck-up, and too closed-minded to just enjoy films as they are meant to be enjoyed, I protest! This is not the case! I have watched plenty of Hollywood blockbusters and animated Disney/Pixar films. I even paid to see 2012 at the cinema. Granted, I have regretted that ever since, but I do still enjoy these type of films occasionally. Okay, very rarely. But the point of the matter is, that they really don't have much variation. There's some invasion, there's some adventure, there's a big battle of some kind, the good guys (almost always America) save the day, hooray! The end. And I refer to the wise old saying: "If you've seen one, you've seen em all".

Likewise, I have heard enough Hip-Hop to make a generalised and frank decision that it is fucking awful. I'm not particularly aware of the intricacies of different sub-genres here. It's all just Hip-Hop to me, one way or the other. Just like Death Metal, Symphonic Metal, Gothic Metal, Industrial and a bunch of others would all just be Metal to someone who dislikes Metal. So wherever my real hatred may lie in this instance; Hip-Hop, Gangsta Rap, R&B, whatever, I'm just going to refer to it as Hip-Hop to simplify things. To be honest, I have reservations about using the term Gangsta-Rap as it sounds ridiculous. Kind of like Chef-Rock or Librarian-Pop.

I usually try to come up with a logical conclusion as to why people like the things that they do, but when it comes to Hip-Hop, I am at a loss. The reason that this subject has come to my mind is that the fashion designer whom I work for, is quite a fan of the said genre. So much so, that today was dedicated almost entirely to it. At one point he apologised (albeit somewhat jokingly) for the profuse swearing that was to follow in the song that was playing. Now, I don't have any problem with swearing. I swear a lot myself. But when its included in music or writing, it should have a place. And it just didn't. Fuck, cunt, and the word I hate the most, Nigger; all repeated, on a loop, verse after verse, with no discernible narrative behind the swearing. When you feel the need to apologise to two people in their 20s for swearing in a song, however jestingly, there's probably something lacking in the song besides basic literacy.

As far as I can grasp, the back-story of a Hip-Hop song seems to be something like this:

There is a pimp, or some sort of gang member, who is usually the male vocalist (aka rapper), whose monologue includes one or all of the following: Driving a Hummer or other such pimped-out tractor; Rollin' up to the club (which seems to be more important than actually being at the club, so much so that certain Hip-Hop songs focus entirely on reliving this wonderful experience of arriving at the club, in a Hummer, through every chorus); Having some sort of bitch, or otherwise incredibly attractively named hooker, who often has sex with the lead vocalist; which leads on to Sex, which happens frequently, and graphically (my favourite line in this field today was "sliding down my pole like a certified stripper" - everyone can relax, romance is clearly still going strong); Tits, pussy, and other such references to naked women; Drugs, and if they can somehow be snorted from a stripper's back as the rapper fucks her, bonus points for artistic license and ticking all the boxes on the Hip-Hop check list.

If a woman is involved in the song, she seems to either perpetuate the sexist egocentricity of the male vocalist by wailing along in the background and occasionally saying something along the lines of "yeah baby", which must be applauded for sheer ingenuity. When female Hip-Hop vocalists aren't living up to their assigned gender-roles, they are completely reversing them, as in the case of Nicki Minaj, who sings about shitting on people. It seems that there is no end to the aesthetic achievements of this wonderful genre.

The really disheartening part of Hip-Hop, is that the artists seem to put so much time, and so much energy into channeling their talent, that all of it is spent on the vocals. The music seems to be rather irrelevant. At least, I'm assuming that it's irrelevant, because it appears to me that Hip-Hop artists complete the vocals, and then just press whichever button on the keyboard will play a simplistic, monotonous "bum-tsh, bum-tsh, bum-tsh", with a fitting bpm. After the first verse of any given track is over, I already feel as though the track has been repeated far too many times than should be allowed and have the urge to either switch it off violently, or begin stabbing myself in the ears with a pen in time with the never-ending "bum-tsh"!

I think I have justified my opinion enough to pose my initial question once more: why on earth do people actually like this drivel? Why would anyone want to listen to song after song detailing the lives of a pimp and his hookers? It is repetitive, offensive, mindless diarrhoea that almost everyone seems to take a liking to except me. It's even played in gay bars, which is about as confusing as a gay Christian. I was under the impression that the gay scene was supposed to be about expressing equality and individuality. And yet look; everyone is dancing to the song about that poor hooker who is objectified and abused by her pimp. It almost creates a black hole of sheer paradoxical confusion in my mind, which is further intensified by the fact that Hip-Hop fans are under the impression that these people possess actual talent.

I don't usually have any real desire to discuss musical taste. I like what I like, you like what you like, it really doesn't need questioning. Unless we work in the same office where music is played all day at your discretion. And when forced to listen to Hip-Hop for 6 hours a day, it's funny how all of a sudden I do find myself questioning why people listen to fucking Hip-Hop! I can go so far as to admit that there is some level of skill involved in rapping, sometimes, on rare occasions (like when the songs actually have a subject matter beyond fucking or rollin' up to a club). But the majority of the time, it's a string of words put together at random, a few made-up words thrown in to make sure it rhymes, a female solo to make sure the picture of sexist idiocy is well and truly reinforced, a load of imagery to really project the perfectly avaricious pimp lifestyle, certain words or phrases repeated over and over again to give it some length, along with a bunch of swearing to make it suitably intimidating, or rebellious, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. Have I just about got the gist of it?

P.S. I'm pretty sure Hip-Hop was invented in America, so thanks once again America. You are a country that just keeps on giving.

Fuck Fashion

As I mentioned in my previous post, it has been a while since I have taken this blogging thing as seriously as I perhaps should. I will continue to slap myself and say stop being so lazy and write something! But I will forget about it again the next day, and only bring myself back to being productive after much self-persuasion. Once again, I find myself vowing to keep up with writing, and once again, I can only wait and see.

I also mentioned in my post yesterday (as another flimsy excuse for my writerly laziness), that I started interning at a fashion design studio, and I have been venting my feelings about this to my boyfriend for the past couple of weeks now, but generally receive no response. As with most venting, you may as well do it to a wall, because the most I seem to get in response is an "mhmm" to show that the other person can hear the noises coming from my mouth. Now I am aware that I am not the most articulate person verbally. I get nervous when I have something to say, and when I have something to say that is actually important I stutter and stumble over my tongue so much that I usually avoid saying anything at all. Which is why I channel my feelings into written words rather than spoken ones. So I feel that I should take any opportunity to express my feelings, however tedious.

So fashion, huh? What's that all about? When I got a call informing me that I had in interview to begin interning at a fashion label in London my first thought was "ugh". I'm not sure I can describe that much better. Just, "ugh". All the negative stereotypes of the fashion industry quickly popped into my head, and I was given no time to prepare for the interview, which made me dread it even more. I never look forward to interviews. I think anyone who does is a complete freak of nature. But this was worse than most because I hadn't prepared for it, so I arrived with a somewhat careless attitude. When asked to describe myself, I blanked, laughed nervously, and said that I wasn't aware this was going to be a formal interview. Luckily, it wasn't. We eventually got talking more freely, and I started work right then, which is the only successful interview I have ever had. And it wasn't even a success because its an unpaid 2 month voluntary job.

It turns out that it is a very small design studio, with just me and the designer working there, which dispelled images of arrogant fashionistas prancing around like tossers (they came later). The first week was great. I worked on the project briefs, wrote emails, things for the website, and some outlines of the company. I was in my comfort zone at least. But in the second week, the fashion side began to creep up on me, and make me feel clueless. Then last week, I joined the designer at a couple of fashion expos in Earl's Court and Chelsea, and the reason I dreaded the interview in the first place came flooding back.

It was safe to say last week that I hated fashion. I spent 6 hours wandering around huge makeshift shopping centres, where every stall we passed had someone trying to drag us in and sell their stuff. I was in Hell. There is no other word for it. Shopping itself is one of the most tedious, draining experiences that people put themselves through. Walking along Oxford Street is a fun day out for most women. Personally, I'd rather jump into the Thames. And to have to shop, but not even shop: just look at clothes, and repeat "I'm just looking thank you" on a loop, all day, almost drove me to commit suicide in the toilets with the plastic cup that I had just drained of vodka. This sparked my dislike of fashion, and since then, I have been reminded of the numerous other reasons that I loathe it.

Arrogance: The designer that I work for has said this himself on a few occasions: people in the fashion industry are arseholes. They walk around with their noses turned up at everyone else around them, like they live in some sort of caste system, and would spit at you for not recognising a Gucci bag or a Chanel suit. Ugly Betty put this cliche to good use as humour, but in reality it is just irritating. And it makes me question why anyone would want to work around people that are constantly picking fault with everyone over appearances. It would be like going to primary school all over again, where the poor kid gets laughed at for wearing cheap knock-off trainers. Arrogance is unattractive, even when it's wearing a Chanel suit.

Fashionspeak: As much as this doesn't particularly piss me off, it does bore the hell out of me. I'm pretty sure that I have ADHD, or something that makes my attention span very short, so when people start talking to me about hemlines, or chiffon, or freaking cashmere, my mind is almost definitely going to switch off. I can write about them to an extent, but when people start asking me questions which include fashionspeak and expect a response, I wonder when I ever gave the impression that these terms would stick in my mind. Kind of like throwing cushions at the ceiling and looking surprised when they don't stay there, It's just not going to happen.

Frivolity: I suppose this is somewhat arrogant, but I just don't get it. I can appreciate certain Haute Couture fashion shows, when the clothes are more like an art form than anything a person would wear in reality. I can appreciate this because I appreciate art. But unfortunately, the vast majority of fashion is not art. It's just a strip of material stitched together, and no amount of jargon is going to make me see a maxi dress as anything other than a sheet with a hole in it. I like books, I like art, I like art-house cinema. I like discussing philosophy and politics, because they actually matter. Discussing high street fashion, to me, is like watching reality TV: frivolous, mind-numbing, and ultimately meaningless. Now I know many fashionistas would beg to differ: I recall the scene in the Devil Wears Prada involving the two blue belts all too well. But those belts did look exactly the same, and a pretentious spiel about the history of that certain shade of blue didn't really change anything.

Ethics: Moving on to a more serious reason; there is everything that fashion stands for. It has become obvious over the past three weeks that my work associates and I have completely opposing views when it comes to production. I used to take an interest in fashion, when I was at university. But it occurred to me that there are certain aspects of the industry that don't look as though they are set to die any time soon: one of these, is fur. I won't begin to describe just how much I utterly despise fur. And since it is included in almost every single fashion show, thanks to a certain nazi fuck named Anna Wintour, who brought it back from the grave, I cut my interest in fashion shortly after it started. There is just no possible way that I could be involved and interested in an industry that is driving in the opposite direction to myself by way of ideologies. Just hearing the people I work with talk about how beautiful fur coats are turned my stomach last week. I'll do my best to look past it for the time being, along with the people working in sweatshops in India and China, to produce this overpriced crap for next to nothing. But I'd never last in a world where fur is seen as anything other than sickening.

Personality: Perhaps my biggest problem, in the forefront of it all, is that fashion doesn't seem to allow for personal style. All this talk of fads, trends, and the latest colours and prints from the latest lines, gives me the impression that there is a rulebook somewhere. And that if you deviate from it, it results in complete disgrace at the hands of the vampiric fashionistas who feed on the shame of other people's bad clothing choices (Very much like a gossip magazine, another thing I absolutely loathe). But why should people follow the path designated by the fashion elite exactly? What does it matter? I just can't be arsed to think about what I'm wearing every single day. Usually I just wear running shoes, shorts and a teeshirt. Why? Because they are comfortable! I don't care that they look kind of stupid. Those dogs that look like bath mats look stupid, but they deal with it and move on. I have nothing against people with the motto "fashion over comfort", but don't expect every person on the planet to give a fuck about it. Even when I do wear expensive clothes and make an effort when I go to clubs, I'm sure that I'm still breaking about a dozen fashion faux pas', but it is far too much effort to consult the rulebook whenever I buy a pair of tousers, and more importantly, I think personal style should be just that; personal. We haven't started genetically modifying everyone to have the same personality yet, so why is there still such disdain towards people who dress alternatively? I have seen plenty of examples in fashion shows, and at the fashion expos last week, of clothes that I thought were absolutely disgusting. The only difference is, that my point of view doesn't have its own magazines telling the world that they should agree with my taste.

Aftermath

It has been quite a long time since I last wrote anything here. This is primarily down to laziness, but a lot has changed in this time as well, and I will continue to use this as an excuse for the laziness: My computer died, and then our other computer died (meaning that the hard-drives on both of them ceased to exist, within a few weeks of one another, which was just perfect); I moved house (and had no computer or internet for a few weeks); and I started interning at a small fashion studio in Kennington (later blog entry on this to come). Losing my computer after 5 years was quite sad. Having to sell it because I'm so poor was sadder. Only getting £30 for it was the saddest thing of all. Moving house in London was far more stressful than I first anticipated, and I cannot possibly endure it every July, without fail, anymore. I only started interning about 3 weeks ago, but having spent my days prior to this doing very little of anything, having a job has tired me sufficiently to make me not want to do much of anything when I get home. Thus, blogging has been off my mind for quite a while.

However, I can safely say the transitional stage is over now. I have settled into my new place, settled into my job (even though it may only be until the end of September with no room for a full-time position after that), and bought myself a new computer. The latter is somewhat entangled in another matter which has been going on for the past two weeks and caused me further stress (and again I am using this as an excuse for being too lazy to write anything). This matter would be the deposit from my previous apartment. I bought this computer on finance (6 months interest free, 10% paid up-front), hoping that when I get my deposit back, I will be able to pay it off fully. I have since learnt the lesson that landlords in London (or maybe I was just extremely unlucky) are greedy, extortionist arse-holes, and I am currently taking legal action against my previous gem of a landlord who is trying to pry £915 from us. Now I am just hoping that this is settled within 6 months, so that I can pay for my laptop, otherwise I will once again be considering prostitution to pay the remaining £900. I would like to take this opportunity to further express my opinion that you cannot trust anyone, because everyone is in fact, a cunt.

There have been other, more widely recognised and important occurrences than my deposit that have happened since I last wrote anything though. Amy Winehouse met an untimely death, and good music was dealt a double blow when this was followed by Cher Lloyd's single reaching number 1 in the singles chart. And the event that I feel I should spend the rest of this entry addressing; watching my city burn last week.

The riots that broke out last weekend in London, and which quickly spread across the country, were no surprise, even though I was woken in the middle of the night by my boyfriend showing me a live feed of the fires in Tottenham. At the time I couldn't have cared less. I just wanted to sleep, and wouldn't appreciate being woken from my slumber even if a bomb had just been dropped on the city. But in the light of the next day, and the front page of every newspaper showing images of Tottenham, completely destroyed, I realised that something quite serious was taking place.

Far from being surprised, I accepted that this was going to happen at some point. With the Conservatives raping the country the way they are, fucking the economy; pushing the poor, underprivileged class of society further towards breaking point through brutal and archaic austerity measures, it was only a matter of time (as one youth in Tottenham said himself 2 weeks before the riots actually did break out). Over the next 2 days, I watched as numerous locations of my city were attacked, looted, and burnt to the ground. On Monday I saw all the shops on my street shut up early, and their owners stand around the street looking as though they expected trouble. One or two broken windows and a boarded up Tesco is the only thing I experienced first hand, but elsewhere there were far more serious events and consequences.

Perhaps the most surprising factor that I noticed during these riots, were not the riots themselves, but the responses from almost everyone I know: That these riots are completely meaningless, opportunist violence, from underclass scum who want nothing but to wreak havoc. It wasn't the fires, it wasn't the charred and blackened streets that shocked me the most. It was this over-generalised and frankly ignorant outlook of events. The fact that people refused, point blank, to accept the idea that maybe, just maybe, there could be a larger picture, that maybe there was a reason behind the anger.

The shooting of Mark Duggan aside, it couldn't be perhaps because of the means by which these people have to survive? It couldn't be because they are oppressed and ghettoised by the government, into areas with the highest unemployment rates in the country? Because they have no money for education (now that the EMA has been scrapped and university fees have tripled)? Because their benefits; their only means of survival in a world of no education and no job prospects, have been slashed (and I know first hand just what it is like to live on £20 a week)? Because three quarters of their youth centres were just closed? Because they are completely ostracised by a government formed entirely of people who were born into privilege, and have never had to worry about finding a job, or paying for their education, or just paying the bills? It couldn't possibly be because their lives were pretty shit to begin with, and are even worse now that the Conservatives are in power? No. It must all be down to the way their parents raised them.

Now I am not condoning the riots (cliche of the week), or saying that the above reasons are a good enough motive to destroy local shops and burn down people's homes. All I am saying is, that perhaps there is a larger picture, and to deny that there are a multitude of reasons and catalysts for rioting, is extremely naive. Either that or just plain ignorant. It is exactly what David Cameron wants: for society to agree with him, to deny any reasons behind the riots, to denounce then as pure criminality without any motive other than just violent impulses and bad parenting. Of course he couldn't possibly have his own agenda.

I guess it's easy for people in comfortable £20,000+ jobs to do so. And it's easy to jump on the bandwagon of Facebook pages that popped up such as "Not rioting, because you have a job to go to in the morning". And it's easy to ignore the real reasons, because "pure criminality" is a much simpler one. And it's what Theresa May, that pinnacle of good values said, after all. Unfortunately, not everyone is lucky enough to have such luxuries as an education and a well paid job.

I don't possibly see how we will ever reach an age where riots are a thing of the past, until we accept and analyse the reasons behind them. But as the vast majority of people proved last week, we are very far from that point. It wasn't the anger at the rioters that I fundamentally opposed; obviously, when people start trashing your city; your home, you get pissed off. That's totally understandable. What really bothered me was that it seemed like an extremely small minority of people who actually accepted that there must be some causality between the riots, and the events which preceded them. What really bothered me was that people could be so utterly detached, and ignorant of the class that these people come from; of the way that they are forced to live; of the frustration and anger that they must feel from just trying to get by. This was what really upset me, and frankly, I was more disgusted at some of the labels that the rioters were given than at their actions.

I believe that the last week has been a very sad one. Not only because we saw our society collapsing in on itself, but because the vast majority of people agreed with David Cameron, the man whose actions and decisions led to rioting in the first place. It's never good when your country erupts in mass social unrest, but when the country seems to unanimously agree with a Tory, it is an extremely sad day indeed.

Where the Wild Things Are

I feel that I am definitely part of a majority in saying that as a teenager, one of my favourite film genres was the horror slasher. And it's probably no surprise to anyone to say that I grew out of it. I don't know exactly when it was that my opinion changed. But as it stands, horror films are now only surpassed on my hate-list by the nauseating and ever-worsening RomCom. So why the change?

I have mentioned before my vehement dislike of all things sequel and franchise related for the most part (there are exceptions). This crutch of the mainstream film industry flourishes in the horror genre, perhaps more than any other (Halloween 1 to 7,860 for example), even more so now with the discovery of Hollywood's latest obsession: 3D. What is on offer now seems to be countless 70s/80s/90s horror film franchises rising from the dead (pun intended), and bringing out a new installment or a remake, in "ground-breaking" Hollywood 3D. Halloween I've mentioned, along with Scream and the other classic slashers, coming back with worthwhile to add to franchises long dead. Even in a genre famous for bringing dead things back to life, "sometimes dead is better".

To focus on specifics for a second, the use of the word "horror" is a pet peeve of mine, since modern horror films rarely fit the definition of this word in being frightening in the slightest. In all honesty, they don't even try. I'm pretty sure the scariest part of Scream 4 will be watching Courtney Cox try to move her face. The term slasher is generally much more applicable.

When the genre itself is little different to the satire which spawns from it, there is clearly something off point. Scary Movie from example, is a "piss-take" as it were, of these films, but the dumb American girls in skimpy outfits being killed in showers or swimming pools, the telephone calls by faux-threatening voices, the chases and the comic screaming, the blatant stupidity, are present in both; the originals, and the satires. So what constitutes a horror film any more? They seem to be, for the most part, comedies with fake blood and a spooky soundtrack.

Despite my general avoidance of this genre nowadays, occasionally I do stumble across films which remind me what it was that I liked about them in the first place. The opinion of horror mocumentaries seems to be greatly polarised, but I have always been quite a fan of them. Granted, I was only about 12 years old when I saw The Blair Witch Project for the first time, but I loved it then, and I still appreciate it now. It was the first film that I genuinely considered frightening: So far removed from the over production and absurdity of Hollywood blockbusters. And any film that can actually fool Americans into believing it really did happen deserves some level of respect.

As happens with practically everything, this gimmick spawned many more films of the same mould, and it's hard to deny that it has been a little overdone in recent years. Paranormal Activity has got to be the apex of atrocious horror mocumentaries (and yet predictably, they are making sequel after sequel). They are growing in popularity, but at the same time, the originality is declining (Paranormal Activity just felt like a rehashed version of The St. Francisville Experiment), and they are becoming increasingly indistinguishable.

Troljegeren (Troll Hunter) is Norway's take on this growing obsession with horror film mocumentaries, and it avoids the trap of banality that so many American takes fell into. It employs Nordic folklore to intense advantages, perhaps most importantly because it doesn't take itself, or the legends, too seriously. And above all else, it injects a burst of originality into a sub-genre very much in need of it.

The film follows a group of young documentary makers who take it upon themselves to get to the bottom of a number of mysterious bear-killings by following one "Troll Hunter", Hans. Despite his insistence that they leave him alone, they follow him into a forest in the middle of the night and stand around chatting and laughing, until some distant rumbling, flashes of light, and shaking of the earth, followed by Hans reappearing and screaming "TROLL!" quickly transports us into a chase through the woods, thus beginning the film's intensity in earnest.

Despite at first being opposed to their filming, Hans gives in to their pursuit, and eventually explains what he is doing (but not before a full sized Troll is introduced to us). Now I am completely unaware of such matters, but according to numerous film websites Troll Hunter is very concordant with traditional Norwegian Troll myths, and a whole display of weird and abstract theories are presented to us, such as the Trolls being able to smell the blood of a Christian, which I found extremely amusing. Hans also informs the film makers of the various "breeds" of Troll, and the film certainly doesn't hold anything back in displaying them all.

Troll Hunter is unceasing in its silliness and bizarre humour, and thus avoids the pretension that is the downfall of so many mocumentaries. It doesn't try too hard, or take itself seriously, and has major what-the-fuck factor. All this things combined mean that it is incredibly entertaining. But behind this guise, the film still manages to be relevant and important: Hans eventually informs the film-makers that he is employed by the government to kill, and cover up, the existence of the Trolls, and various other government employees enter the narrative with much less friendly attitudes. The theory of governmental cover-ups is one that I find particularly applicable given the rising popularity in conspiracy theories and governmental deceit.

As with all these films based around the idea of found-footage, Troll Hunter ends ambiguously, with the film-makers being chased by the government employees and the camera falling to the ground. And it leaves you agreeably entertained, as well as raising some questions about modern society. Simply, it is what a horror film should be.

It seems then, that Norway is quickly replacing America as the leader in modern horror. On par with Let The Right One In, this is the second case in the argument that Norwegian horror outstrips American slashers by a long way, not only in terms of plot, but in production, cinematography, and the characters themselves. In essence, Norway puts America to shame for a second time, and now I decisively endeavour to watch Rare Exports and make it three.

Rotten Apples

Writer's Block, depression, laziness, whatever it may be, I just haven't felt the urge or need to write, about anything, for weeks now. Probably because, in these past weeks, I have done very little, and am becoming increasingly submissive to the lifetime role of a home-maker circa 1950.

March has taught me a couple of things. Firstly, that being optimistic is pointless, specifically regarding job interviews. And secondly, that taking acquaintances as housemates for an undetermined amount of time is a very bad idea, as acquaintances, as opposed to actual friends, are much more inclined to disregard everything you say to them, and turn your home into a pigsty/crack-den, forcing you to kick them out and hope to never see them again. Lesson learnt.

Also, my iMac, which is about 6 years old, has finally snuffed it, which could not come at a more inappropriate time. The "genius" who took a look at it at the Apple store in Covent Garden informed me that it would be about £200 to get it fixed, and when I told him I couldn't afford it, gave me a rather peculiar look, as if £200 was an extremely small amount of money indeed. And went on to say that a new computer of the same spec would be about £1000. More on that in a second.

So I am torn. On the one hand, I really, really hate PCs, and have no intention of ever owning one. On the other hand, a number of recent situations have led me to change my opinion of said company. Firstly, the iPhone 4 is kind of crap, but this is well-known fact so I feel no need to go into detail, other than to just say it seriously falls short of the competency I have come to expect of Apple products. Secondly, Apple isn't the company it was when I bought my iMac 6 years ago. For starters, my iMac cost about £500, not the £1000 that the guy in the shop stated to me. And the cheapest laptop they do, the tiny little MacBooks, are now pushing £1000 as well. I'm pretty sure they used to be less than half that not so long ago... So I am left with the question, what the fuck?

I became a die-hard Apple fan on the basis that I had a kick-ass computer that was really quite cheap, worked perfectly for 5+ years, and needed no extra crap such as virus protection; to use the cliché phrase, "it just worked". But now, the prices have rocketed, and after the iPhone 4 fiasco, I am sceptical whether apple products are worth the money any more. I certainly don't have, or will have, £1000 to spare any time soon. So I informed the "genius" who declared my computer fucked, that I could just go to Computer Exchange and get one of the same spec for about £400, and certainly wouldn't be buying a brand new one since the prices have bloated in fantastic American fashion since I last checked. I guess, just like many of my friends have stated, Apple has proved itself to be just another heartless capitalist company which is clearly putting profits over substance in recent years. It seems that many of my favourite companies, great when they have a small but devout customer base, are "selling out" for want of a better phrase, and selling to the masses causes them to lose their edge, their value, and ultimately, their appeal. Thus is the world. I can't really see myself using a different type of computer, being so accustomed to Macs at this point, but just under £1000 is money I don't have at this moment in time.

All this said, I still hold that grand Apple user stereotype: smugness. I will probably always look down my nose at Microsoft, because they are just, plain and simple, bottom-line, no arguments, shit. Completely and utterly. Only time will tell, but one thing is certain. Having to use a Microsoft PC at the moment is probably going to force me to take out a loan or something to buy a new Mac before long.

Got Blood?

I am aware that I am extremely late in commenting on the following trend, and don't so much want to critique it as just... comment. The trend, or what could be better known as craze, of which I speak, is vampires. What is it about vampires that has teenage girls screaming and fainting in fits of orgasmic fantasies? What is it about vampires that has pretty much all of us, watching or reading something about vampires? What is it about them that is so goddamned sexy?

First of all, I kind of hate the vampire thing (what a surprise). Because as soon as Twilight hit cinemas it suddenly became a cult. The kind of cult formed entirely of the teenage girls I mentioned above. It's not because I hated the very idea. Quite the contrary, I have 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King in illustrated hardback, and I have read a fair few of Anne Rice's books. I have the film adaption of Interview With the Vampire on DVD (Queen of the Damned was fucking shit but let's not go there), I like the older vampire films like The Lost Boys and Fright Night etcetera, etcetera. At university my affinity for horror waned. But nevertheless, I still remember what I really liked about the vampire genre that I had experienced: they were traditional. There was no freaky vampire sex. Just blood and gore. Because isn't that what being a vampire is all about?

Evidently not, because then it all changed. Twilight came along. And gave us vampires in the format of love and chastity, which is not exactly surprising when the author in question is a mormon. And what we have is a fairly ridiculous tale about a girl who falls in love with someone she can't have (a vampire), and it's all very allegorical and metaphorical blah blah blah. It's shit. The idea is unbelievably dull, and I imagine the producers of the film recognised this fact, since the film seems to rely almost entirely on the appearance of the characters. I don't know why anyone would find Robert Pattinson attractive, but clearly it was a master stroke, because young girls screech at the pasty sight of him (vomit). And it appears that with each new film, all that the Twilight saga does is add another few half naked guys to the cast, to keep the interest of it's fanbase (what more do you need when your fanbase is a teenage female cult?). What you have is a boring love affair between a girl and a vampire, and throw in a werewolf or two for good measure, and they manage to drag this out for film after film (and book after book I suppose) by showing the characters with their shirt off (and glittering: what the fuck is that about exactly?). Perhaps the intent of Stephanie Meyer was simply to promote her dogmatic religious agenda. It clearly wasn't because she's a passionate writer. To quote Stephen King, "[she] can't write worth a darn". What she succeeded in was creating a cult of teenage girls who want to fuck vampires and werewolves. Well done.

So is that all there is to it? Vampires are now sexy, and lovely, and tragic? No longer murderous and terrifying, they are things of beauty, and thus have gained a wider acceptance in popular culture? This would be a perfectly mundane and believable reason I suppose, but apparently it is not the case...

I'm not exactly sure whether it is precisely because of Twilight that Vampires have become the "in thing" recently, but it's certainly not unconnected. It's not all bad however, because at around the same time in 2008 that Twilight was released in cinemas, True Blood hit TV screens. Now, I admit that when I watched the first episode of True Blood, I hated the cliche storyline (which is almost exactly the same as Twilight) until I realised that is was all very satirical, and was actually very original. And with each new episode I grew to like it more. In many ways it is the exact opposite of Twilight. Whereas Twilight seems to be about chasitity, and preserving your virginity and a lot of sappy bollocks, True Blood gives in to urges, natural instincts, passions. Whereas Twilight is a love story and frankly nothing more, True Blood comments on various cultural and social issues, not least gay rights ("God hates fangs; Coming out of the coffin" - pure genius). Whereas Twilight is all very feminine, and gentile, and quaint (boooring), True Blood is gritty, and violent, and edgy. Two franchises based around exactly the same narrative, and where one fails so miserably, the other succeeds in being absolutely brilliant.

True Blood is most certainly not just another vampire show. I have been very much an avid fan of Allan Ball since watching Six Feet Under and American Beauty, and he certainly doesn't fail to deliver. It is both one of the darkest, and most hilarious shows I have ever seen; one of the most violent, and one of the soppiest; one of the most cliche, and one of the most original. And although it doesn't need to rely on the cast getting naked to win over its audience, it certainly doesn't hurt every now and again either (Hello Jason, Eric and Alcide). I have already mentioned what I like most about it, and that is the social issues involved (alongside the setting). Its harsh critique of humanity is TV at its best.

So the original stereotype of vampires being cold, and terrible and dangerous isn't completely done away with then. They are not integrated into modern society, at least not fully. What they are is trying, and raising a lot of questions about humanity's tendency to ostracise groups of people as demonstrated throughout history. I think the reason that vampires have become such a large part of modern entertainment is because of this questioning. They are the perfect critique of how human beings behave toward and treat each other. The big question that both Twilight and True Blood raise, is should vampires be treated the same as everyone else? Just as the same question has been raised about so many groups of people throughout history. And they are the perfect metaphor. They question humanity, and their anachronistic existence questions modern culture. The following quote from True Blood is a great example:

"Now the American Vampire League wishes to perpetrate the notion that we are just like you and I suppose in a few small ways we are. We're narcissists. We care only about getting what we want, no matter what the cost, just like you. Global warming, perpetual war, toxic waste, child labour, torture, genocide, that's a small price to pay for your SUVs and your flat-screen TVs, your diamonds, your designer jeans, your absurd garish McMansions. Futile symbols of permenance to quell your quivering spineless souls. But no, in the end, we are nothing like you. We are immortal. Because we drink the true blood. Blood that is living, organic and human. And that is the truth the AVL wishes to conceal from you because let's face it, eating people is a tough sale these days so they put on their friendly face to pass their beloved VRA but make no mistake, mine is the true face of vampires. Why would we seek equal rights? You are not our equals." Russell Edgington

Vampires are metaphors for groups of people worldwide who are demonised and treated with prejudice. Both now, and throughout history, blacks, Jews, homosexuals, women, Muslims, the list goes on, have faced prejudice and genoicide at he hands of humanity. I think there are a number of reasons for the surge in popularity of the vampire genre in the last year or two. Presenting them as shirtless hotties for teenage girls to drool over is one reason. Presenting them not so differently from people, and raising the question of whether it is okay to fall in love with them is another, and this is when it begins to break into modern society; race relations, sexuality etc. The most obvious one that True Blood focuses on is homosexuality, with all its stereotypes. The quote above gives the opinion of just one vampire, not an entire race, which is extremely applicable in a society dominated by generalised prejudice. But this is getting a bit deep...

Basically, I think vampires are popular because yes, I guess they are quite sexy, I'd like a vampire to drink my blood as much as the next person. But more importantly, I think the status of the vampire genre has risen in popularity because of this change or attempt to change perceptions from monsters or objects of fear/hate, to members of society. This is exactly what minorities have done throughout history, and continue to do now. Personally, I am all too familiar with this concept. Gay people are still branded as sick and immoral by religions the world over (exactly as vampires are branded in True Blood), and although we can be open about sexuality in the UK, other countries have a long way to go. It is the sense of struggle, or overcoming obstacles that people love to see so much in films. Harry Potter is another example of this. Honestly, I've dropped Twilight as an example because it's just not that meaningful:

"Harry Potter is about confronting fears, finding inner strength and doing what is right in the face of adversity [...] Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend" Andy Futral

So altogether, vampires have changed their image. They have a had a makeover. Now they can walk down the street and oh... they are hot. Sure, some people still hate them. The Westboro Baptist church have added another website to their list (www.godhatesfangs.com), but on the whole they are more accepted. You can even have a relationship with one now and (most) people won't judge you for it. My, what a progressive world we live in.

December Traditions

Ah December, you're an odd one. I feel good about you one year, and despise you the next. Birthday, Christmas, and (though not as much) New Year's. Two years ago I had my 20th birthday, and then spent Christmas in Berlin. Probably the best December I can recall. Last year was bad. This year was worse, because it was simply nothing special, and left me feeling more disillusioned than ever. A month that I used to love, it has gradually become one that I expect the worst from.

Birthdays become less appealing, and more depressing the older you get. Celebrate the big ones. Throw an awesome 18th birthday party and an even bigger 21st. Because that's the last one with all those good birthday-type feelings. Turning 22 makes you realise that every year you are just getting older, and that there's not much left to celebrate. Hell, I'll celebrate anyway, if only to detract from the nostalgia of how birthdays are when you're young. But feeling older just ain't what it used to be.

Christmas is much the same. But for quite different reasons. Christmas is something to be cherished when you are a kid, but has become something I have very few good feelings about. I don't hate Christmas per se. I like drinking from the moment I wake up, and I like the nice food, but that's about as far as my praise stretches. And the former doesn't come without criticism. What I do hate about Christmas is the way that we, Brits, celebrate it. I don't know exactly what the original meaning and traditions of Christmas are, but I'm pretty sure it isn't spending all the money you have on wrapping paper, a dead tree, an obscene amount of food and alcohol, and then spending all day in front of a TV screen. For two months or more every year we see tacky decorations cover buildings, the streets become crowded by masses of frustrated and hectic shoppers, and almost every store window becomes home to some gaudy festive display. And for what?

I sat on Christmas morning watching my younger sisters open hundreds of pounds worth of gifts, complain about most of them, and move on to the next, just like so many other children were doing across this country, and numerous others. And I couldn't help thinking about the greed. While we all opened our boxes and bags of colourful excess, and gorged ourselves on Christmas feasts, people elsewhere in the world continued to starve, and die, and live in poverty, whilst we remain oblivious. Christmas doesn't provide a relief for everyone. And all the months of preparation, and money spent, all the stress is, as my stepmother pointed out, for just a couple of hours, on one day out of 365.

I think it is safe to say now that the real reason for my distaste and dislike of Christmas stems almost entirely from my dislike of Capitalism. Like Valentine's Day, I think it's a way to pressure people into spending money, that many can barely afford in the current economic climate (I can barely afford to eat let alone buy gifts), all so the big corporations can boost their profits. And the fact that the Christmas decorations creep into the stores before Halloween in some instances just emphasises this season of consumerist excess.

Now I have had plenty of good Christmas's spent with my family. I am familiar with the arguments about getting time off work and spending time and money on the people you love and rarely get to see, and I can understand these reasons for liking Christmas as much as anyone else. But on a lower and more mundane level, it is all so on the nose. I enjoy walking around London without being barged about by angry Christmas shoppers, and without the addition of tacky lights and decorations. I enjoy hearing normal music in stores in December and not nauseating modern Christmas tunes on a loop (thanks Starbucks). And all the faux-Christmas cheer frankly just irritates me (Stop being so happy you freaks!) More than anything, I just don't see what all the fuss is about.

The Christmas season as it has come to be known, stretches on for around 8 weeks, and city life completely changes to accommodate it. But once all the wrapping paper is thrown out and all the food eaten, it's over, just like that. I have become bored with the routine of it. Spending Christmas in Berlin was good because it was a different country, with different traditions, and it was exciting. On Christmas day the public transport was running, the city centre was vibrant. People weren't sat at home watching bad TV and stuffing their faces. They were out at the markets with friends and family, ice skating, drinking, having fun with the rest of the city. Christmas in Britain is a victim of it's own traditions, traditions which don't appeal to me in the slightest.

And the month-long piss up continues on New Year's Eve, which is simply, the last chance to get shit-faced before making all those resolutions to change your habits. Now I'm not going to complain about parties. For New Year's Eve I went to Glow Ball/Squelcher at the Renaissance Rooms in Vauxhall, and had one of the best nights out of the year. I just don't really get it. It's a load of fuss and excitement over a clock hitting midnight; something that happens every night. It's a little strange to me, but when taken solely as an excuse to have a party or go to some amazing club it can't be a bad thing (unless the party is hugely disappointing, as has been the case for many NYEs of the past).

So 2010 is over. Let's be honest, it was a pretty shit year overall. I finished my degree and moved to London, only to be greeted by a Tory government, budget cuts, rising unemployment, rising VAT to name a few reasons. Cynical as always, I doubt that 2011 will be any better with the current political and economic circumstances, but we can hope. Can't we? My only resolution this year is to be more active. To keep up to date on the news by reading the paper, to take more approaches to actually finding a job because frankly, I am fucking sick of being broke, and to spend more time writing. Generally, I need to get out of this apartment more and enjoy living in London.

Goodbye 2010.