Two Hours of My Life: Divergent (A.K.A. Revenge of the Nerds V)

Sigh. Another day, another misguided teen movie saga. Let's go.

1:33 - Jesus Christ does this have to be two and a half hours long? When you're heading into Kurasawa film length territory with your teen oppression fantasy I think it may be time to make use of the editor. Your target audience's brains haven't fully developed and you're expecting them to sit for 140 minutes NOT browsing Facebook. 

4:32 - No sooner am I delivered a soulless voice over describing to me the trite way in which this world works, do I remember that Ashley Judd is in this film; which makes me think that the narrator wasn't the only person on set that they had to pump full of thorazine.

If we can get through this movie without evoking the messy part of her womanhood I will call that a win.

12:13 - So our main character, Beatrice ('Tris'), lives in a futuristic world where people are split up into different personality factions. This is apparently meant to create peace in the aftermath of some great war. Beatrice is part of the "Abnegation" faction who are basically Amish people who live in grey boxes and help the poor (or "Factionless"). The others are "Erudite" who are the Nerds, "Candor" who are the School Snitches, "Amity" who are those weird kids who sit at the back of the class and draw pictures of their class mates being murdered to get out the aggression, and "Dauntless" who are the Jocks who spend most of their time sprinting down streets and shouting incoherently. 

Whoever thought operating a society like an American High School would keep the peace has clearly never seen "Heathers", but I digress.

Point is in order to split everyone into the appropriate factions they force teenagers to trip their nuts off on Blue WKD which, to be honest, is probably what they would have done anyway. At which point the hallucinations would tell you what faction you're supposed to be in. It's a bit like the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter as written by Irvine Welsh. 

Choose Candor. Choose Dauntless. Choose a fucking big TV....

As is customary in these types of stories, it turns out this blank slate of a girl is somehow one in a million, because she belongs in all of them, and none of them. So far the only traits this girl displays is that of a freshly taxidermied rabbit so, hey, maybe the test is on to something.  

16:38 - Take a drink as another trope of these films rears it's dopey head. Dull, melancholic modern synth music, designed solely to try and inject more gravitas into this film than it deserves. In the mean time I have to ask; if the kids, after having chased the state sanctioned dragon, are then allowed to go and choose which faction they go into, what the hell is the point of the test? I know, it's meant to tell you which one to choose but it clearly doesn't stop you from choosing another faction, and nor does anyone in the authorities. Which will result in....

21:19 - This sheepish, woodland fairy of a girl choosing the warrior clan. Tell me how does this system account for Dunning-Kruger? Am I overthinking this? I probably am aren't I?

And I think we all know why Ashley Judd has that ashen look on her face.

32:14 - So we're now at the Jock HQ and we've been introduced to our clear love interest and male lead, "Four", a man who must get very confused whenever he walks past a golf course (sorry). And following in the footsteps of "Twilight", he is a stony-faced, unlikable wanker. So naturally our girl is drawn to him like Bill Clinton to a fat intern.

49:08 - It seems to me that with Jai Courtenay (top of the pile in Hollywood's evil, neanderthilic "badass" collection), his character's sole purpose is to repeat that scene from "Starship Troopers" where Clancy Brown throws a knife into a recruit's hand, over and over again until the fact that he is an abusive, insecure prick with something to prove is seared into each and every audience member's brain like a tumour scar. There should be a certain amount of fear and suspense whenever the guy shows up but after a while you realize it's pretty much par for the course.

Please fear.

1:01:57 - Okay, firstly this is the second time we've had a close up shot of Four basically molesting the teenaged girl in his care. I know it's meant to be romantic but then so was Edward Cullen sitting and watching Bella sleep outside her bedroom window. In real life both get you headlines in the Daily Mail. 

Secondly; they're now engaging in "War Games" where they use non-lethal projectile weapons with darts that simulate the pain of a gunshot wound. As a paintball player it offends me that they are not wearing appropriate eye protection. These darts are clearly travelling faster than 200ft p/s and therefore could easily take out an eye or teeth. Do you want to end up like Ant in Byker Grove? DO YOU?

1:05:22 - Who made this zipline? Why is the break cord located approximately 800 miles behind her making it dangerously difficult to reach? Why does the zipline end at a brick fucking wall? How many people have died needlessly doing this? Who chose this soundtrack? What's happening? Where am I? 

1:09:48 - Young people everywhere, heed my warning: If ever you find yourself pulled into a hidden corner of a dark building by Ashley Judd, run and do not look back. Do not worry about her. Her orderlies will come and take her away as they will be equipped with the appropriate nets, sedatives and restraints. Even if she says she's trying to help you. Even if she says that you are "Divergent", that your mind works in a million different ways and that you are the bestest girl everest and all the other girls want to be you. Do not trust her. If the government is after her, it's for a reason.

1:13:49 - So after Four gently caresses his student's hair and drugs her into unconsciousness like a good and respectable teacher, Beatrice dives headlong into the ocean of her nightmares. This is where she will face her worst fears, test her mettle and prove herself worthy of wearing a leather jacket and running around yelling like a dick. And what might her worst fear be?

Crows. Her worst fear is Crows.

Luckily Tris is a Mary Sue... I mean... "Divergent", which means she's able to get out of the nightmare by realizing it's just a nightmare, leading me to my second "Trainspotting" reference.

Tris wakes up, presumably to find Four quickly zipping up his trousers (deleted shot).

1:25:39 - So from our journeys into Tris' mind we gather that her main fears are being attacked by feral creatures, being separated from her friends and drowning. From this I gather that she is a relatively normal human being with average depths of personality, and not the all important messiah the movie is trying to convince me she is. After almost getting killed by some of her peers and being saved by Four, the film gets back to its gag inducing romantic subplot.

Is it me or are movie romances getting weirder? We've got teacher/student, stalker/stalkee, necrophilia, bestiality. And it's all being marketed to barely adolescent girls. There are porn companies who wouldn't delve into some of this shit and here it is, rated '12A' and entertaining your daughters. Wake up people! This is the degeneracy the Alt-Right keeps harping on about! 

1:50:21 - Okay, I've been holding out. I know, how could I?

Basically there's a subplot about how the Nerds want to take over the governing of their society from the Amish. To do this they start off by spreading rumours that the Amish leader, Marcus, likes to beat his son. As it happens, Four is his son, and it's true, because the Nerds are smart and they know that if you're going to smear someone then make sure what you're saying is actually true Wall Street Journal.

But now that Tris is fully Jock, and is also now Four's official squeeze (vomits), the Nerds inject all of the Jocks with some sort of mind control serum, claiming it's a tracker. Of course Tris is super awesome and so it doesn't work on her or Four and they find themselves in the middle of a full blown Kristallnacht against the Amish, which I'm guessing must have really triggered Ashley Judd because she isn't here at the moment.

What strikes me is that I quite simply don't care about any of this.

1:52:34 - Holy shit, Ashley Judd's back and some madman gave her a gun. Country on lockdown, full terror alert. It's no use. We're going to have to nuke her. It's for the greater good, damn it!

2:08:35 - So it turns out Ashley Judd is a Jock turned Amish. Not that any of this matters because some saint disguised as a villain gives her the Old Yeller treatment soon after this revelation. On the way back to the Jock emporium we now have our Dream Team: Two old Amish men and a Nerd. Kate Winslet beware; you will be subject to mathematics and home-made butter based justice. Of course her father bites it because the only thing he knows how to shoot is a cow's udder.

But enough about this film's other romantic subplot. Eventually she comes across Four, who is now fully under mind control, and who takes their already questionable relationship to all new dysfunctional heights by beating her until she pulls a Bud Dwyer and turns the gun on herself. This prompts an emotional response, making the list of things that can be saved by love so far "Marriages", "Zombie Apocalypses" and now, totalitarian dictatorships. Suck on that, German Resistance.

Shit love stories! Mein only weakness!

Ultimately the villain's main mistake was; despite the fact that she has numerous controlled warriors to choose from, she decided that her last line of defense was going to be a few angry looking Nerds. After defeating the barrage of pocket protectors and D10s hurled at them Tris and Four manage to shut down the program, thereby saving the Amish from the zombie Jocks. And all in time for Prom too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is actually the second time I've watched this, and even without pausing it every now and then to write bullshit in the blog it was still plodding, po-faced and pretentious. Not quite as dull and self-important as "Twilight", but not even as interesting as "The Hunger Games" - which it seems to steal its ideas from. Society split up into factions with different skills and industries, pitting teens against one another for societal worth, trains being the main mode of transport in the future. Not that those were all original in The Hunger Games either, but there's clear derivation here.

Ultimately it's another movie where the main character is essentially a blank slate for teenage girls to project themselves on to, like a glorified Mills & Boon character. If that's what you enjoy then have fun but it's not really great cinema.

Let's just be happy Ashley Judd can no longer hurt anyone.

Altered States: Cartels and Cave Mongs

Well it's been a while since I sat down and enjoyed a good, old fashioned, 80s, B-grade horror flick. From Ken Russell; the man who brought you Oliver Reed fighting naked in front of a roaring fire, I give you "Altered States".

It follows the story of Edward Jessop, a professor in "Abnormal Psychology" who frequently experiments with sensory deprivation and mind altering drugs in order to reach some other form of consciousness. Instead of chugging a bottle of gin at a friend's party and locking himself in the bathroom like most normal people, Eddie makes his way to Mexico to trip balls with the natives in a suitably dramatic fashion.

When I say dramatic I understate somewhat because this film was directed by a man who once filmed a scene depicting a nun masturbating with a charred human femur. So what can we possibly expect from such a film?

WHERE IS YOUR GOD NOW?!

Nothing. Nothing that's what. You watch and you get what you get. And what you get is a demonic, seven eyed ram. Why? Fuck off. How dare you. You come here from the world of gun-metal grey first person shooters, endless sequels and homogenous, de-bollocked everything and you have the gall to question the need for this? Stare into his eyes and beg forgiveness you congealed placental stain on the bedsheet of life.

But enough hoof-licking. This film was written by legendary screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky based on his own novel; who clearly wasn't happy with the result because he's credited as "Sidney Aaron". Why he wasn't happy with this is beyond me. It's about a man who devolves into proto-human form through a combination of Mexican drugs and mad scientist level zeal. Between this premise and the hiring of Ken Russell (whose final film was simply titled "Whore") there was very little space to fuck up.

To be fair it does have its faults. Aside from some unintentionally funny hallucinations which border the line between unsettling and genuinely giggle-worthy, it lacks a satisfying ending. Not only does the film seem to simply stop instead of properly resolving itself, it's unconvincingly happy considering the somewhat Lovecraftian tone of the rest of the film.

Pictured: What happens when there's a fire at the Sex Doll Factory.

You can certainly tell this was written by Chayefsky though. Just check out the highly acclaimed classic film "Network" and you'll notice how he favours melodramatic tones and highly analytical dialogue. This isn't bad by any stretch but few actors can pull it off convincingly. Luckily this film has some; particularly in Charles Haid of "Hill Street Blues" fame, who portrays my favourite character in the film "Mason". Mostly because he swears and yells a lot, is an angry bastard but genuinely seems to care underneath it all. My sort of character really. 

What you really want to watch this film for however is how pigeon-eatingly demented it is. Aside from the hallucination sequences you have a scene where the main character regresses back into a feral caveman state (those Mexican Cartels cook up some strong shit) escapes into the city and picks fights with animals at the zoo. And yet somehow it doesn't force me to take it less seriously.

Between the psychedelic visuals and themes surrounding man's monkey origins you could almost say this is the "2001: A Space Odyssey" of horror films. Despite it's crap ending it ends up being memorable and even somewhat creepy at times. Especially when you consider that there could be a Mexican drug fuelled, cave mong lurking deep within us all.

And in the long run it's the everyday horrors like that that resonate with us. Am I right?

If anyone needs me I'll be at Church.

   

  

Media, You're Being Creepy

This is actually terrifying.

Come now Mainstream Media; it's clear you heavily dislike the guy for ideological reasons. You hate him because, despite all the smearing and nonchalant assassination tips, he defeated the Crypt Keeper in a blonde wig and managed to prove just about every Democrat media shill wrong with nothing but self-aggrandizement, a dead cat toupee and millions of frog memes. It was like watching the disabled kid accidentally trip the school bully into a trough of nails with the words "PRAISE KEK" written on the side.

I understand this was probably stressful for you. But no one expected you to turn into the villain of a 90s proto-slasher flick.

A round of applause for my MS Paint skills.

No one wanted this. We're all worried. You even hired an expert to study the woman's every fidget, flinch and presumably fart ("There! You hear that slightly higher pitch at the end? It means 'Help! He's posting another Tweet!'"). Did you happen to find this expert perched atop a ladder near a catholic girl's school dormitory?

I mean I'm sure there's wars going on in other countries and everything but here you are analyzing grainy footage for any sign that she might need your help. It's like Gary Busey in "Hider in the House."

I can only call this film "Hilarifying."

I honestly don't mean to bring up all these stalker movies but I can't help it. It's happening naturally. I'm genuinely afraid that Donald's going to go to the White House front lawn one morning and find the bloodied head a German Shepherd hanging from the flag pole, like what Mark Wahlberg did in the movie "Fear".

See? I did it again! And now I'm imagining some sort of tense climax where Chris Cuomo, sneaks into the Oval Office with an axe, yelling, wild eyed about how he "loves" Melania and that he wants to "save her from the meany frog man". Eventually him and Donald have a fist fight on the roof and Chris gets knocked off and impaled on the wrought iron fence. And as he dies slowly, his body sliding down the metal spikes of the most powerful office in the world; Donald looks down on him, raises his finger and says....

"YOU are Fake News."

Credits.

I forgot what I was talking about. I'm on the phone to 20th Century Fox. It'll be huge!

Gods of Egypt vs. Jupiter Ascending

Some critics are idiots, and here's why:

This is how a friend of mine suggested that I begin this post. The other one was "10 Reasons the Critics Got it Wrong!!! - #7 May Shock You!", but I would rather die of dysentery in a Calcutta latrine than sully my already laughable blog with such a title/opening. So it was either the former or this wouldn't have had an introduction, which would have troubled me deeply for some reason.

Anyways, I watched these two films. Let me tell you what I thought in unnecessary detail.

"Gods of Egypt" is a 2016 film directed by Alex Proyas; the man who brought us "The Crow", "Dark City" and, unfortunately, "Knowing" starring Nicolas Cage; a film with an intriguing premise which eventually amounted to nothing more than a two hour Shaggy God Story (a story which ends with the twist "Holy Cow! It's Adam and Eve!" before the editor of the 1950s sci-fi magazine the story was sent to crumples it up and hurls it into the wastebasket to be fed to hogs later).  

As you can probably tell by the hilariously overproduced advertising art the film sports, my friend and I picked this one up expecting it to be the Turkey of 2016. We expected a film awash with over-the-top CGI effects, hammy performances, shit green screen and hilarious representations of Egyptian Gods. We were, of course, not disappointed. However what we didn't expect was to actually enjoy the film.

For all the moments of video game environments that shift from a desert to a swamp in a matter of mere seconds; for all the scenery chewing hamminess that would give Brian Blessed an embarrassed chubby the size of the average Mars volcano; for all the Shakespeare wannabe dialogue and a plot that becomes so blurry towards the end that you might as well watch an episode of Spartacus while jacked to hell on street grade heroin.... I actually really fucking enjoyed it.

The friend I was watching it with at the time is big into his ancient mythologies so picking up a movie that actually sort of faithfully makes use of Egyptian myths by way of typical Hollywood "subtle as a shovel to the face from an un-medicated Randy Quaid" style of film making was actually the highlight of our weekend.

Picture of Randy Quaid just because

The film opens with an almost showdown style CGI brawl between Set (GeRAAAAARRRd Butler) and Horus (The Kingslayer). Now normally I would say that the film blew its load early, however whilst it DID blow it's load pretty damn early, it continues to blow its load over the next two hours until the TV is bulging at the seams with sticky white entertainment.

Picture of Nick Manning just because

Now beyond all that I think that the actors and - to at least some extent - the writing do a good job of creating some decent chemistry between the characters. Each Egyptian God has their own unique personality (with Chadwick Boseman as Thoth, the God of Wisdom being a stand out favourite of mine) and there are some genuinely funny moments to enjoy as you wait for the next scene in which Horus fights two women riding on the backs of giant cobras and that may be the most awesome sentence I have ever typed.

Now look, it's not going to win any awards any time soon and nor should it. However in a time of mediocre reimaginings of old franchises, bland stories filled with stock characters and so little personality they feel as though they've been ripped right off a conveyor belt in a Gilliam-esque bureaucratic dystopia; seeing something that actually seems to be having fun with itself and its own ideas, something that gives off an almost old school fantasy vibe... well it's refreshing. I don't know about you but I'm not exactly on the edge of my fucking seat for "Back to the Future: The Recycling" or what-the-fuck-ever. I'd personally rather watch Geoffrey Rush as the God Ra shooting fire at a giant lamprey while dressed as the Space Pope.

Ye best start believin' in GOD stories!

What's not to like? Well the mainstream film press have their waterslide fucking noses to look down don't they? They can't be giving good reviews to things that are actually entertaining or anything. So what kind of excuse can we make up to take a big steamy dump on this piece of harmless fun so we can all huff away at it and enjoy the stink of our own needless bile?

Well we could channel the left wing version of Archie Bunker and proclaim loudly that there are too many white people here! Of course! Pretty mental though eh? I didn't know Sadiq Khan was writing film reviews.

I mean it's one thing complaining about the "whitewashing" of the yet-to-be-made "Akira" live action film. "Akira" is an authentically Japanese story, even without the tentacles. So it shouldn't exactly be a surprise to Hollywood that people would expect the film to actually contain Japanese people. However when we're talking about an original film that makes use of mythology from a nation of people who, scientists pretty much admit, we don't know the fucking race of.... well I'm sorry Mr Virtuous, you've been forcefully conscripted into the learning support division of the Fun Police. You are now Police Constable Buzzkill of the Social Justice Branch and fuck you for making me bring up race politics in a goddamn film review.

To cap that part off, I do recommend getting a bunch of friends round and checking out "Gods of Egypt". It's like if "Exodus: Gods and Kings" were written by a hyperactive, autistic 12 year old boy. Or to be more specific - it's like if "Exodus: God's and Kings" wasn't a long, dreary, boring waste of my fucking time. Oh look; even that film got a higher RT rating than "Gods of Egypt". What a surprise.  

(Slurping sounds from under the table)

Speaking of films that undeservedly got a higher RT rating than "Gods of Egypt" (though admittedly, not by much either); let's move on to The Wachowski's most recent effort "Jupiter Ascending". This was another viewing suggestion from my friend over the weekend in question and clearly he used up all his luck on "Gods of Egypt" because this film was like taking all the shittest ideas from Space Opera's past and stitching them all together like Josef Mengele at a Twins Festival.

It stars Mila Kunis as Jupiter Jones - whose name I'm not even going to bother to make fun of - a Russian immigrant who spends her time scrubbing toilets to help her family make ends meet. In the process of trying to sell her egg cells at a clinic Jupiter is saved from an attack by Cain Wise (Channing Tatum) who is part dog and also later part bird somehow. Caine takes her to see Stinger (Sean Bean) who is apparently part Bee. I didn't know this until I read the synopsis on Wikipedia. I'm guessing they were too ashamed to mention it. Anyways, something, something, Jupiter owns the planet Earth.

I'm not even sure where the fuck to begin with this because the whole movie is "Flash Gordon" as written by Stephanie Meyer. It's quite uncanny actually; the dull female lead character who's built up to be this all important, fantastic individual but... isn't - check. A bulky, stoic and emotionally distant love interest whose relationship with the lead character teeters obliviously on the brink of bestiality - check. Following that, absolutely no chemistry between the romantic leads - check. World mythology that reads like the foggy, hormone laden scrawling in a teenage girl's diary for future uploading to Fanfiction.net - check. An ineffectual lead villain played by a British actor whose performance is so perplexing it almost barrels cock first into the realm of utter genius....

Check and Mate my fuckin' beauties! Hell, maybe Lana and Lily Wachowski should've kept their balls in a small container near their word processor reading "Break Glass in Case of Emergency". Maybe next time whatever they write wont resemble a barely pubescent girl's wet dream. 

Only seen the first episode; my review so far is a bored shrug

  

Speaking of Eddie Redmayne's performance; I honestly can't understand how the Wachowskis even got that out of him. What possible combination of words and phrases could they have used that would have possibly driven him to deliver such a puzzling act?

"Okay Eddie, this'll be our first rehearsal. What we'd like from you is to deliver your lines whilst channeling a combination of Roman Emperor, tired cancer patient and elderly ostrich. Occasionally we'd like you to shriek out your lines, seemingly at random, and when you do really force it out like you're trying to shit a 90s desktop PC monitor. I wanna see some forehead veins Eddie, come on!"

Narratively and stylistically this film is all over the place. The aliens are varied but there's no real coherence. Some aliens resemble the standard "Greys" with almost bird like legs, others are generally human and many are simply weird animal human hybrids. This wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing (the elephant pilot is a highlight) but the film doesn't really explain its universe very well. Everything just rushes past and you're forced to just accept the fact that Sean Bean is part honeybee and that said bees swarm towards Jupiter because they're "programmed to sense royalty" (which, despite being part bee himself, Sean Bean wasn't able to figure out within seconds of meeting her).

Special Guest Star - John Merrick

As for the style; about half way through the film we're treated to a sequence where Jupiter is led through a ridiculous amount of bureaucratic red tape in order to ascend to her rightful place in some royal family or other (I pay attention I do!), accompanied by an odd looking robotic being and an almost Danny Elfman  style musical score. And just as you realize they're doing a really blatant and poorly placed homage to Terry Gilliam, who should show up but....

Terry Gilliam, seen here measuring your power level

The word "why" is probably buzzing through your grey matter like a swarm of bees with Sean Bean's face horrifically planted on to each and every one of them. It was with me too. I assume the Wachowskis just found him pottering around near the set with a rusted out tin mug, begging for coins to finally pay for that "Don Quixote" film that God seems dead set on not ever letting us see, so they just decided to put him in the film. And despite how out of place it is, it's probably the best scene in the movie. Proving that a little Terry Gilliam always makes things better WARNER BROTHERS!

One thing particularly puzzling about the reception to this film (other than the inexplicable 10% higher approval rating over "Gods of Egypt") is the more positive response among "a niche of female science fiction fans who appreciated the film's campiness and the film's deviation from typical gender stereotypes in a genre that is traditionally male-centered."

Now you all know how I feel about gender politics in fiction in general, but I don't really care that much. At least SOMEONE'S having fun with this. I just find it funny considering throughout the film Jupiter Jones as a character does the precise square route of FUCK ALL except get herself into situations that force the main male lead to swoop in and save her at regular intervals. Having said that:

"Donna Dickens of HitFix.com noted that many viewers found the film attractive for providing "the wish-fulfillment of prepubescent girls". Dickens explained that where Hollywood typically portrays strong women in action films as "Arnold Schwarzenegger with boobs", Jupiter Ascending presents Kunis' character differently. "Women don't always want superhuman robots to look up to. We want to be the same klutzy nobody who is cosseted and petted and told we're special – despite all evidence to the contrary," she wrote."

That's.... actually quite accurate really. Guys and girls have very different ideas of "wish fulfillment." Guys want to save and girls want to be saved. Doesn't make one weaker or more dominant than the other. It's just how we're built.

Like how I was built for the couch and you were built for the kitchen!

However when all your female character does is stand around like a dolt while her man rushes over to rescue her for the 100th time in the flick and not much else.... well I start to care less because I realize that this character, whose importance you've been bigging up this entire film so far, isn't as important or interesting as you've let on. It's one of the many problems with both "Twilight" (all of the bastards) and "Snow White and the Huntsman", and at least those films had the excuse of having cast Kristen Stewart - whose best performance was in "Panic Room" because she spent most of her time in a diabetic trance and it lent itself very well to her acting ability.

"Are you okay Kristen?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that!?"

And with that I conclude this post. Basically, go watch "Gods of Egypt". It's silly, over the top and it's a tremendous amount of fun. It's one of those films that straightforward without being paper thin, and stupid without insulting your intelligence. If you're looking for some old school fantasy with an over-the-top contemporary CGI flavor then this is the film for you. Fun police be damned!

"Jupiter Ascending" however is just incoherent, loud and generally unfunny. It doesn't quite know what the hell it wants to be and it explains so little about itself that you just end up giving up about halfway through. The ultimate travesty of this film being that Eddie Redmayne wasn't in it enough for me to stare at like a sideshow freak.

Picture of Eddie Redmayne just because

Diary of a Well Balanced Human - 30/01/2017: Bubbles and Binoculars

I try to do something that many people may find utterly futile. I try to sympathize with people.

I grew up a weird fucking kid. In primary school I used to hide under desks and scream at my teachers. I used to collect "spy equipment" and run around my neighborhood "spying" on people. Of course "spying on people" meant standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac and staring at houses through a shitty plastic folding set of binoculars. And I don't think James Bond ever carried his equipment in a "Toy Story" lunch box.

I would sit in my room for hours practicing magic tricks to show to people at school when they cared enough to look. I had trouble socializing with people so it felt a lot easier to go "Hey, watch this," than try to come up with anything to say that would in any way be relatable to the fucking normies that infested my school like boring, grey termites. 

I would plant myself in the school library most days when everyone else was outside - presumably inhaling crack smoke through their anuses or whatever kids did back then - and read books about unsolved mysteries and true crime. I found serial killers to be particularly fascinating. I remember reading "The Silence of the Lambs" for one of my English class Personal Studies, as well as "Misery" by Stephen King. Something my English teacher at the time - a no-nonsense woman who used to work at a borstal and seemed to like me for some reason - was very supportive of. 

I remember being asked by my Art teacher what I would like to paint one year. I told him I wanted to paint weapons. He led me to a cupboard where he proceeded to hand me a baseball bat, an axe, and various other blunt/sharp implements for me to paint. If I was in America he probably would've just called the cops, but this is Scotland; potential signs of sociopathy are par for the course. I remember feeling particularly joyful as I walked through that classroom, axe hanging down at my side, bat resting on my shoulder, and one could've heard a pin drop. Yes my sense of humour was warped and mostly based around making people uncomfortable even back then. 

It did not come to my parent's surprise - or anyone's for that matter - that I turned out to be autistic. 

The problem with autistic people is that they tend to have trouble looking at things from other people's perspectives. Which was why some people were a little skeptical when they found out I wanted to be a writer. I mean one has to be able to relate with other people's perspectives to be a writer, correct? 

What I'm saying is that, unlike a lot of people, I had to teach myself a little to see the world through other people's eyes. I'm still teaching myself. It's a difficult thing to do. Which is why it isn't really that surprising when other people forego it. Some people like to keep looking at the world through their own eyes, just because it's simpler, and you can understand things better that way. When you're in your own little bubble reality is what you make it. It's a very appealing thought. You don't really have to think, you can just react. And you're always the hero. No matter what.

Sometimes it means sympathizing with one group of people but not another. Especially if they are two separate sides of an argument. I mean listening to both sides and weeding out the valid arguments from them is hard. Better to take one side and defend it no matter what. It's easier to perceive the black and the white than it is to wade through a grey fog and find the other side.

I've been thinking about politics way too much lately. It didn't use to be so difficult back when I was much more left-leaning than I am now. Things were a lot more black and white. The Right were full of mental, gay-hating, war-mongering, hysterical religious fundamentalists. The Left were full of peace loving hippies who loved freedom and secularism. Black and white. I knew who I was. I knew where I stood.

Things aren't like that anymore. Hell I'm not even totally sure if it ever WAS like that. I think I've made it quite clear on this blog as to why that is. Right now as I type President Trump has gone through with his so called "Muslim Ban", which doesn't even seem to be a ban as much as it is an extreme vetting process for people from terror compromised countries. And to be perfectly honest with you; I don't know what the fuck to think.

We know people who are part of a death cult that oppresses women, that sees non-believers as nothing but obstacles in their goal for a theocratic paradise, will disguise themselves as innocent people to enter other countries. We also know that the people that surround them have been through hell mostly because of those very people.

On the other side of things you have us.

People died in Nice. People died in Paris. People died in Orlando. People died in Berlin. And it seems to me as though every measure we take to try and prevent that from happening is denounced as some kind of racist/Nazi idea that assumes every single Muslim is a frothing extremist, decked with bombs from his balls upwards.

I want to be clear about this; we live in a time where the last couple of generations have never had to deal with the reality of Nazism. Whenever I hear people my age or younger call something they don't like Nazi, or anyone they disagree with a Nazi (un-ironically) I just want to slap them and yell "BOY, YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT A NAZI IS!"

We have such trouble seeing things through the eyes of others that we would rather attribute them to some of the worst people in history than actually sit down and try to understand what they're going through.

I try to do something utterly futile. I try to sympathize with people.

I wish I could go back to gathering spy equipment in my "Toy Story" lunch box and pretending to gather intelligence on my neighbours. I wish I could go back to immersing myself in silly mystery books. I wish I could go back to freaking people out by walking through classrooms carrying axes.

I wish I could go back to my own little bubble, where everything is simple, and there is only black and white. There is only me. I am always the hero. It's a nice thought. It's a tempting thought.

It's the easy way.

I can't. And I wont. I think part of being a thinking, rational human being is taking a point of view that you could never imagine yourself holding or experiencing and trying to do just that. Imagine what it's like to think that way and try to understand it. You don't have to agree with it in the end. You just have to try and understand it. I'm not saying we should start sympathizing with Nazis or other racial separatists/supremacists; I think we're beyond all that. Or at least we should be.

We can't just retreat into our own little bubbles where we're always the hero no matter what. When we do we become tribal. Our bubble is the Justice League and theirs is the Legion of Doom. It rarely fucking works that way and well we know it. When we try to make it work that way all we do is hurt each other for the things that we believe in. 

It's half two in the morning and I have to work tomorrow. Or today rather. 

Break free of your bubbles everyone.   

    

  

Go a Little Mad

This is a little piece that I wrote for the Penumbra mental health support group.

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Let's see.... How does one describe the process of going from being mental to not quite so mental?

Oh yes, I don't deny being a bit mental before all of this. I own a copy of Anton Lavey's "Satanic Bible" because I find it hilarious. I once attempted to shut a co-worker in an alley with two ceramic clown dolls. I own around six copies of George Romero's "Night of the Living Dead", and I don't know why. They just seem to keep appearing. It's starting to scare me, and it should scare you too for some strange reason that I can't articulate.

Yeah, I am that kind of "mental". I am the kind of mental that people enjoy. I'm the guy you tag in posts on Facebook with memes that state "We all know that one guy who likes to chew on weasels and spit them at passing cars, am I right!?". Followed by floods of comments agreeing that "that is so u lol", despite the fact that I've long since moved on to chewing otters. I'm the kind of mental that's great for visiting friends who turn to their friends and say "Oh, you'll love (insert person here; no not an actual person you lunatic), he's a total nutter!" before you show up on a unicycle wearing foam antlers.

I'm the kind of mental that people like.

But there's another kind. A kind of mental that's altogether darker and lonelier. A kind of mental that people don't like to talk about or deal with because it's not particularly entertaining. The kind of mental that some people don't like to refer to as "mental" because they think changing words and terms will somehow act as a magic wand to make it all better.

Now don't get me wrong; this part is not here to make you feel guilty, or anyone for that matter. I completely understand it. I personally would rather watch a worryingly angry person yelling at a terrible videogame on YouTube than check to see if the woman who shouts at the walls next door has access to sharp objects. I'd rather sit and watch a film where annoying teenagers are torn to bits by tank-like human beings in masks than go see my brother and find out why he's crying into his pillow. It's not a happy world. It's not an entertaining world. So it's perfectly understandable as to why most people wouldn't want to enter it, let alone talk about it.

The stuff that I spoke about in the opening paragraphs are true. In my group I'm kind of considered the loveable nutter. I'm generally considered cheerful, with a warped sense of humour and some misanthropic tendencies. I'm mostly liked by the people I know; loved by some.

I've also been depressed since around late 2013. It crippled me for a long time. It was exacerbated by the fact that I am on the Autism Spectrum, so my ability to interact with others on a relatable level was already somewhat impaired. It was not a case of "pulling myself together" as some might say. Some nights I wish I were a robot that could magnetically repair itself by pulling the broken parts together and tightening the loose screws (And also have flamethrowers. Flamethrowers would be nice). Unfortunately human beings are a little more complicated than that. They don't come off assembly lines, all wired in the exact same way. We all have different problems, different life situations and different brains, and sometimes a combination of those things can send you on the clichéd "downward spiral".

So what do you do? Maybe you suffer from anxiety; maybe you're obsessive compulsive; maybe you have a monumental git of a friend who locked you in an alley with two ceramic clown dolls and you haven't been the same since. Well, you get help of course. But some people are afraid to get help. They don't want to be seen as a burden, or a pathetic scrounger sponging off the state. People with mental health problems tend to think that others would be better off if they weren't even around. Others think that people just don't care so they don't bother to say anything for fear of being laughed at or ignored. "PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER" they'd say as little devil children sprout from their stomachs and blow raspberries at you. Nobody wants that.

But the little voices in your head are wrong. Always wrong. Never listen to the voices in your head. They make you go internet shopping and then you make all kinds of mistakes. NEVER listen to them. Because there are people who are there to help.

A good while after I began on anti-depressants and started having meetings with a community therapist I was turned on to Penumbra, and since then every fortnight I've been forced to brave the outside world and go for a drink and a chat with the amiable dude that they assigned to me. I used the term "assigned" for lack of a better term since it makes it sound less social and more bureaucratic. Trust me, these are not Job Centre meetings. You're not directed to an ominous old building where you sit down in front of a frowning corpse of a person in a tweed suit who attempts to beat the sane back into you with a bamboo cane he got when Britain was still in control of India. That's not what this is about. These people will do anything they can to make you feel comfortable.

But they will ALWAYS get you to leave the house. It's about getting OUT of your comfort zone as much as being in it.

The feeling of being isolated and ignored is something that will never fully leave you. It's always there lingering at the back of your mind. But the idea is to keep it there. People like those at Penumbra are there to help keep it at bay (I suggested their employees carry a whip and a chair to every meeting but they weren't quite up for it). You don't have to feel like a burden, and you don't have to be that kind of mental for people to care.

As everyone's favourite role model Norman Bates once said: "We all go a little mad sometimes." So don't feel you have to keep silent. There are people who will listen.

Just try not to stab anyone in the shower. It's rude and extremely messy.

A Whole Lotta Punchin' Goin' On

I was supposed to be taking a break from this stuff. I've gone out of my way to try and temporarily purge anything political from my life right now. I've stopped going on Twitter, I only go on Facebook to message people, and I've made sure that the only YouTube notifications I get are from Let's Play and Horror channels. Alas, this is not to be. I try to throw it all away but it keeps coming back, like a boomerang covered in shit. Which realistically should make it less aerodynamic but here we are.

Someone punched Richard Spencer in the face.

Who is Richard Spencer? Why, he's a White Nationalist. And the creator of the term "Alt-Right". He's a bit of an edge-lord fuckwit who looks like someone stole most of his hair (probably a Jew no doubt). Quick version: He's not someone who anyone should ever feel compelled to defend, ever.

Now if people watched this and laughed at the Nazi-in-Denial getting lamped on a street corner and then moved on with their lives then I probably wouldn't have any problem because, let's be honest, how many of us could stop ourselves? You're having a conversation with someone, and they happen to let slip that their sympathies lie entirely with the National Socialist party of Germany in the 30s and 40s and that the Holocaust was completely justified; well let's just say it would probably require an ocean's worth of restraint to not pounce on the guy and dig his eyes out with your thumbs.

It's understandable. Here's a guy just standing out in the open casually justifying one of the worst crimes to ever blight our history. Or at the very least touting the merits of race-based identity politics. Maybe this guy didn't get his arse kicked enough as a child. Perhaps we should remedy that. Right now. In front of a camera.

And maybe I would have far more sympathy for the puncher in this scenario if he were just some random working stiff whose grandfather died on the outskirts of Berlin, slowly making their way towards that bunker where the toothbrush faced coward himself put a bullet in his head instead of facing trial for his crimes against humanity. All those people dying in utter squalor and agony, and the person responsible for it all gets a quick, merciful, self-inflicted bullet through the head. And here's this guy, just brazenly and openly touting the merits of that guy's ideology. Right there. The fucking balls on this guy. Someone needs to teach him a lesson.

I can understand this on an emotional level. The pure gut instinct that any decent person would have. The trouble is; where does it stop?

You see, the guy who committed the assault in the video was very likely to be a member of "Antifa". Which means he's also very likely to be a communist. And to him, everyone to the Right of him is probably a fascist. Now I'm not saying that most people are so dumb that they can't tell the difference between a common garden conservative and a far-right fascist. Most people can. But when you're a communist, the muscle that's usually relegated to logic and reason is probably already somewhat atrophied.

What I'm saying is that you're a fucking idiot because Communism, over this past century onwards, has killed more people than, not only the Nazis, but Genghis fucking Kahn. Let that sink in; because Genghis Kahn is theorized to have killed so many people that he actually helped the environment.

Thanks buddy! You can stop now.... I said you can stop....GENGHIS! STOP!

So yeah; applaud and encourage this guy and his ilk all you want. Just remember that the next time you start praising private property, individual freedom and freedom of speech - as well as various other advantages to living in a free society that both the libertarian Left and Right agree on - then you'll probably get a very similar reaction.

Look, what I'm saying is that if we're going to condone the assault of a white nationalist simply for speaking his filthy mind in a public space, then I reserve the full right to track down that commie and mash his balls into slush with a ball peen hammer. I mean it's only fair. If Nazis are going to be punched out then commies should be violently vasectomized with standard joinery equipment.

Which is it gonna be, pinko? The hacksaw or the pliers?

See, if I'm a fanatic for anything then it's free speech. I believe that the best way to combat bad ideas is with good ideas. But the thing is, for a lot of people that isn't enough. Words don't leave marks you can see. Words don't have an impact you can feel immediately. Words can also be misused. I pointed out in my previous post that the word "Nazi", in some circles, has been broadened from being someone who suppports the policies of the National Socialist Party of Germany in the 1930s and 40s, to being "pretty much anyone I disagree with, or anyone who is to the Right of me on almost any issue. And also probably voted for Trump."

Now I've taken the test. Turns out I'm a bit of a lefty. But I'm also very centrist and VERY anti-ideology and anti-identity politics. I'm probably to the right of almost every single person involved in that riot on the inauguration day. I've been called a fascist enabler simply for stating my not-even-remotely-fascist views. So when you say it's perfectly okay to go around punching Nazis - as self-serving as it is - that doesn't really make me feel safe.

Now actual Nazis; hell they might even NEED an arse-kicking. I'm not denying that's it's an extremely appealing thought. But if we're going to do that then we need to be VERY specific about what a Nazi is. Because if we aren't then let's face it; you've got a whole lotta punching to do.