Flying Skateboard?

Where is my flying skateboard? A question we have all asked at one point or another. Come to think of it where is my holiday home on the moon and the giant invading bugs from outer space? Ok so maybe not the last one, but the other stuff is differently missing. Anyone who knows me will know I'm a geek, anything to do with the future and what people think it will bring has me dribbling like a rabid dog. Everything from the computer game Fallout, which is set in a very grim post-apocalyptic world. Playing it is like being repeatedly smacked in the face with a 1950's idea of the future that has been printed on the side of a charred leg of pork. To Threads which has to be the most depressing TV program ever made. Half way through you will be hoping for a real nuclear attack, just to lighten the mood. But its not all war, radiation, famine, disease and burning northerners, there are also more tech advanced visions. Back to the future 2 promised us self drying clothes, flying cars and hover boards. There was a long running rumour that the film makers had in fact designed a real working hover board, but these were later dismissed due to it being a load of bollocks. Even TV lied to us about how good the future was going to be, remember Tomorrows world, well I do and I'm not happy TV used to be a friend, but it lied. My point is with all these visions from Deathrace 2000 to Space 1999 why is it that I'm living in said future and our biggest day to day technological masterpiece is an iphone with a spirit level app. By now I should be woken up by my robot butler, before I spray on a suit. Then I would take my breakfast pill (2 eggs over easy, crispy bacon, toast and coffee white 2 sugars) before I get into my flying car and travel to my job at the institute of Martian immigration. Is this the case, no I'm waking to a alarm clock putting on a Primark T-shirt and catching the 61 bus in the rain. In 1969 we landed on the moon, a massive achievement for mankind and what have we done since, sod all and why I here you cry from your moon base shattered dreams. It's because of health and safety. The bubble rap and germ spray brigade won't let you do anything that might cause the fracturing of a finger nail. We are being stunted by the fear that a few boffins might get a little bit blown up, boffins are ten a penny but a moon holiday home is priceless. So stop it with all the pansy arsing about and at least invent a hover board for me to fall off a few times, get bored with and throw under the bed. The future is here now pass me the death ray you deserve to be deleted.

Reclaim the night

Do you watch anything on terrestrial TV after 10.30 that isn't a repeat or a crappy movie, No, me neither. You want to know why? Its because that time of night and onwards is seen as a Televisual dumping ground. Take the case of BBC one's Sci/Fi drama bulls up Outcasts. Which was originally broadcast in prime time slots on a Monday & Tuesday, but when the dreaded ratings came in and it seemed only my family and a weirdo in Kent was watching they decided to move it to a 10.25 slot on a Sunday. But why is this the case? In this day and age surely there shouldn’t be a TV crap bin. In the book Cronenberg on Cronenberg the great film director talks about growing up in Canada and how after their official TV channel shut down for the night, you would get odd bursts of foreign broadcasting signal showing strange shows. This was one of the main influences for his brilliant and often over looked film Videodrome. Would this have been the case if he had seen our late night TV, what do we have, phone in game shows hosted by Jeff Brazier. So I purpose we take back the night, give the public the late night slots. There are a lot of talented people out there, but they don't get a look in because they are not part of the TV self masturbating boys club or don't have a insider to brown nose. With all the TV harddrive recorders on the market these days, Sky+, Sky+HD, Virgin+, Virgin+HD, Freeview+, Easyvirgin+HDin4D. Late night broadcasts are no longer the exclusive domain of the insomniac, dope head or the kebab carrying drunk returning home. Lets make a stand, lets start a TV revolution, not on the scale of that whole Egypt movement. For one I'm not getting the blame when someone throws Derek through the window of PC World and two I don't really do big crowds. But lets do something, maybe send some harsh emails, shout out the window, print a T-shirt I haven't any plans yet. We want decent films shown, we want good programs, we want to reclaim the night.

My youth in Garbage.

I remember a lot of things from my childhood with soft fluffy fondness. The cartoon He-man, making strange things from Lego, Saturday morning kids shows including Ghost train which no one else recalls. Around the twist which was the Australian kids version of The Twilight zone. ITV's Interceptor an ill advised game show along the same lines as Treasure hunt. But with a really annoying guy (Sean O'Kane) dressed like a punk undertaker chasing the contestants around some scenic UK locations with a cheap crappy 80s laser thing on his arm. But one thing stands head and shoulders over all of these, one item still to this day has me hunting through the interweb for bargains, Garbage Pail Kids. Garbage Pail Kids trading cards where made by Topps company in 1985 and where a parody of the very popular Cabbage patch kids. Each card would feature a Garbage kid who would have a abnormality or ill fate using their name as word play. To a imaginative young boy who loved the strange and horrible these where my bread and butter. I wasn't alone, Garbage Pail Kids cards where so popular that there was a ban put in place by a number of schools because they were becoming a distraction from the lessons. There was even a movie made, surprisingly called The Garbage Pail Kids Movie which was and I think a lot of collectors would agree a pile of yak crap. And even TV wasn't safe there was a cartoon made which was met with parental uproar before it was broadcast so much that it was postponed. Its funny because the cartoon was so mind numbingly terrible with little to no resemblance to the cards. I still have my collection of cards and last year payed a pretty penny for a whole set at a memorabilia show. To a lot of people they are just cards with pictures/art on (which they are). They don't form a number game like the rule heavy Japanese games or interact with plastic balls they are just cards but to me they are an example of the days that where a little less politically correct. Each set has its own differences some decided some accident. I have the set which features the only picture name plate card, there are cards that were cut wrong or printed wrong. All these were sent out into the shops and are now collectors items. Topps has printer new collections  and even a reissue collection (2010) but all of these are sold in the US. Even now as I write this I have a smile on my face like a gurning idiot remembering how I would go over the road to the shop to buy a packet of cards. The smell of the horrid crewing gum which looked like a small piece of wood and tasted like a very shitty small piece of wood and the excitement of new cards, oh happy days.

check out the link below to see how collectable these little cards from the 80s can be:
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/GARBAGE-PAIL-KIDS-RARE-1ST-SERIES-NASTY-NICK-ARTWORK-/150486809324?pt=LH_DefaultDomain_0&hash=item2309b67aec

for more info visit:

http://www.wgpkr.com/

Book off and read

I like to read, to some people this is the equivalent of laughing at a burning kitten, strange and unnecessary. Because why should they read. Most books are made into movies quicker then the author can cash the first royalty check. Why should they sit there and try to work out what all those long words mean. But I love a good book as much as I love a good movie, which there hasn't been a great deal of as of late. Social Network was ok but did I really need to sit through a two hour flick about a intolerable little shit that comes up with an idea that makes him the richest intolerable little shit on the planet. Then there was Catfish, labelled the real Facebook movie which was to be frank, boring, it works on the same ideas as The Last Broadcast but without a fraction of the imagination. So is it any wonder I find solace in a book. Now don't get me wrong I'm not a book snob, you won't find me sat discussing the works of Chekhov, I'll give any book a go within reason. Now most of the books I have read have or are going to be made into movies, with different results but always never as good as the book. There is one movie that manages to insight anger everytime I compare the movie to the book. 'Let the right one in' (original title: Låt den rätte komma in) by John Ajvide Lindqvist is a Swedish novel set in the 80's about a friendship between a vampire and a young boy. The book is a masterful read which is entertaining as it is disturbing and there is some very disturbing subject matter that some people might find hard. The book has a great narrative with a twisting back story, I would recommend this to anyone who likes vampire novels and horror in general. Then we have the movie, made in Sweden four years after the book was released and yes it looks very arty, but they missed so many of the plot points it has in fact changed the story. It doesn’t sit on the shelve as an adaptation more of a simple inbreed bastard son who is so simple it sits there looking at the sun with a confused expression. And now the Hollywood shit pump has decided to make there version, which without doubt will miss even more of the story out. This isn't the first time this has happened and won't be the last 'The Ring' has had the same mistreatment, a cult book, followed by a cult movie and then the Americans spat out their version. My problem is with all the movie dicking about the books get over looked everytime and the books are always much better. Here is a print off pointer for some cult books you should read.

'I am Legend' by Richard Matheson (3 movies based on the same short novel), 'The Ring' by Koji Suzuki (3 Japanese movie, 2 American), 'Choke' by Chuck Palahniuk (1 movie), 'Fightclub' by Chuck Palahniuk (1 movie), 'Perfume: The story of a Murderer' by Patrick Suskind (1 movie which to be fair was alright), 'Johnny got his gun' by Dalton Trumbo (1 movie). There are many more so go now and read and if you don't like the book I'm sure the author won't hesitate to give you your money back, because you won't get a penny out of me. As of writing this I have heard that they are planning to make a movie of the Chuck Palahniuk novel 'Snuff' so I suggest you go and read the book first....go now!

Your place or Myspace?

 Set your grey knowledge sponges back to a simpler time. The country was run by one man and not two buffoons, petrol didn't cost the price of a small semi in Essex and a band from the Warrel, England called 'The Seal Cub Clubbing Club' launched them selves into the public eye. For those of you still in the dark like a trainee chef locked in the walk in freezer or, and I wince at this, are to young to remember it was in fact 2003. I was working in a completely dull and somewhat pointless job in a magazine and news paper sorting depo. Sending out misplaced mag's and papers to shops that would eventually send them to a returns department when they didn't sell (I had also worked there). Across the pond a new website was about to be set free into the mysterious and wonderful world of the inter-web. Myspace, and it was all about being yourself. Design your page, add a photo and get all your mates to sign up and message and laugh and post witty comments and oh the fun we had like crazy internet fools. It was like a big bloody phone chat that you didn't need to stay in for but with pic's of drunks and glitter writing. You could even have a Myspace for your band, and we did. You could upload your dodge rehearsal room recordings to inflict on anyone who had the misfortune to venture on to your space. For awhile this was great, I would spend hours and hours looking for new and exciting backgrounds or layouts. I used to write blogs almost daily and in the hight of our time I had over a hundred readers a week. Which is no mean feat in this day and age when you can't take a breath without having to read someone's theory on how bad it is for you. But all this was about to fall apart like a shoddy built house of cards. A new social network site had arrived and it was building a reputation fast. Facebook was marketed on its simplicity, gone where the eye bleeding, badly made layouts and backgrounds that any spotty gimp could build. With Facebook everyone's page looked the same, a simple blue and white interface. It was all about status's and comments and Facebook was poaching Myspace users by the bucket load everyday. Myspace tried to stop this by changing its homepage layout over and over again to the point where every time you signed in you would have to learn how to use it all again. I still have my Myspace but rarely use it, it has changed beyond all recognition. Its now like being hit in the face by a load of misplaced fonts. The whole thing feels like the good people at Myspace have let the new guy have a go at designing while they go out for a fag. I look back at my Myspace years like a hazy summer flash back from an over mushy TV movie. They where great times and we were the true kings of the social network.

TV if that is its real name.

 

January, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing. Well no, it's good for feeling fat after Christmas, being cold and hating that all those birthdays will be coming around again, with the cards and presents and banners and bloody balloons, damn it, January is crap. It sits there all optimistic about how this year could be a fresh start. So what has this year got going for it to lord over 2010 like a snotty big brother who won a tenner on the lottery. Lets have a look at the forth coming TV like the spirit of Nostradamus. TV is the reason I started The Radiation Tube and have carried it through the different forms it has taken over the years. So to 2011 well first up and this has already started is CSI: Vegas, the best of the CSI's in my view. Miami has Horatio, who has two talents, taking off his sun glasses and suddenly appearing from nowhere like he is the only person to own a teleporter. New York just seems dull, but I can't say to much because I've never really sat down and watched a lot of it, due to the fact that if I was to watch all the CSI's I wouldn't have time to watch anything else. I'm personally waiting for CSI: London which would feature a group of cockneys trying to stop the rain washing away the evidence from a murder in a beer garden in Peckham. The one program that never fails to attract a fever pitch level of anticipation is Doctor Who. Of course a lot of viewers left with David Tennant but I like Matt Smith he brings the foolish fun aspect back to the Doctor something that Tennant managed to drain towards the end of his shift. It seems River Song is back like curry trapped wind. Don't get me wrong I don't mind the character but if I hear her 'spoilers' catchphrase again I might just have to write a harsh E-mail using the words 'knob', 'bum hole' and 'arse face'. One thing they need to do is to do a good Cyberman story after the complete balls up of that Christmas special with the f**king Cyber king. The Daleks might pop up again but lets hope not they need a rest, the poor pepper pot bastards. There is a new series starting on ITV called 'Marchland', the ads tempt with an almost Twin Peaks style drama but I won't hold my breath. I fear we have all been spoilt by the likes of Lost and 24 and not in the good way but with the over used and tiresome shocking twist, that is as shocking as the sun rise. Also the new series of Sherlock which on paper sounds like a complete nightmare, a modern take on the classic Sherlock Holmes character with that guy from The Office as the good doctor. But in fact it was quite good and I hope Professor Moriarty returns, a great evil mastermind with a camp and crazy side, yeah even as I write this its sounds crap but you will have to trust me and tune in

The Celuloide gag.

Movies, aren’t they the best. Little moving picture packages of escapism. Anyone who says they don't like Movies are filthy liars and should be taken to the town hall, dipped in offal and thrown to a pack of hungry jack russell's, because Movies are great. They can make us laugh, they make us cry, some make us angry and some are just there to entertain, unless it has Sandra Bullock in it. No matter what genre you prefer there is a movie waiting, smuggley knowing you will love it. But jump in your time machine and travel back to the mid to late 1970's and you'll find a band of rag-tag rascal directors that had only one aim, to induce vomit fuelled disgust. These movies where made with the intention, to shock the viewer by showing everything in graphic detail. No stone was left unturned or indeed unused to bludgeon. From a power drill to the head, right through to the savage lopping off of a man member. The more brutal the better and a new format was approaching on the horizon more then willing to bring all this into the so called safe haven of your front room The home video player, a foot high by about 4 foot wide with button’s that took the force of a jack hammer to press, a wired remote that stretched 20 centimetres from the unit and the whole thing soaked up about the same amount of power used by Italy in a year. Everyone wanted one. Lower budget movie makers saw the untapped potential of this new media, this was their escape from kissing the fat money grabbing ass of the people that controlled the cinema’s. So a tide of extreme movies flooded onto your local video store shelves. We all ventured out and hired 'Blood for the cannibal virgins snatch 3' with its over coloured and very graphic cover art, hopping to get a delightful romp for a Saturday night in with the family and most of the time what we got was a poorly made romp full of a 1000 gallons of blood, an always naked (most of the time ugly) lead actress with huge boobs and a plot as thin as budget bog paper. But we didn't care, or did we? A small group of middle class do gooders where banding together to voice their absolute disgust and outrage, claiming that these movies would 'corrupt and deprave'. No longer would it be OK for little Johnny shit face to watch 'Nazi alien whore girls on crack 4' while eating his sugar puffs. Because this would without doubt turn him into a vicious cross dressing, stappler wielding maniac before he could grow his curly ones. And so in 1984 a Act was born 'The Video Recording Act 1984'. which meant by law a group of hard assed upper class suit wearing toffs could cut, edit and ban anything they deemed extreme. The British media being what it is, lovingly named these movie 'Video Nasties' telling of true life horror story's about how Mark Volvo from Norfolk had sat down to watch his hired copy of 'Death Boob island 12' only for the video tape to leap from the player and repeatedly smash him in the fizzog. With the help of the media pooh storm the public lived in fear and raids on video shops where undertaken. But as with everything, if your told you can't have it, you want it more and so the underground black market video tape business was born. This is how I managed to watch 'A clockwork orange' (never a real 'video nastie' but still banned) which was well made and quite a good movie. I also saw 'Cannibal holocaust' which is the type of movie that robs you of an hour and half of you life and then sits there grinning about it like a adolescent knob. I also got a very suspect copy of 'I spit on your grave' which turned out to be, as I had suspected just a bunch of killing strung together by a rape. There where about 35 films that stayed on the list for any period of time. Most of these have now been released uncut and you can go down to your local DVD retailer buy one and mock at how once a whole country had feared that this would bring chaos to the streets and eventually destroy everything we hold dear to us including fluffy teddy bears. Even now, although the restrictions have been reduced to the minimal the ramifications of the era still show. This was the golden age of video where people talked in hushed corners and handed over brown paper bags with over viewed video tapes in, I miss the blood soaked old days.