I Still Hate New Rave

This appeared on my blog Rock Saves Lives about three months ago, but nobody read it and it's good.

What great news. The Klaxons just won the Mercury Music Prize. Let's all jump around until 4am waving glowsticks and pretending we are gay and high on E.

Teenagers are cunts. I say with almost without exception. Every generation of teenagers finds a new way to be complete cunts in the eyes of that which went before. From the Generation Xers and their guitar-solo killing grunge who were actually okay, through self-harming Slipknot freaks, through emo pussies, and to the current dayglo paint smeared poofters, teenagers are almost ubiquitously absolute pricks.

These new-fangled idiots have gone the other way, though. Whereas before people would get more violent, depraved and bedroom-bound, this generation found it impossible to go further that way, so they became complete dicks, put on pink and yellow t-shirts, and went to Creamfields as boyfriend and boyfriend, being sure not to hurt any Ladybirds on the way.

It makes me not angry, but sad, that these kids can sit there and think that their culture is somehow important, somehow valid and somehow of relevance in 2007. But you know what makes me even sadder?

That, to them, the music they claim to love is just an accessory to an image they claim to identify with.

If you think this rant applies somehow to you, then stop being a sheep, grow a spine and die in a fire.

The Only Celebrity I Care About is Lindsay Lohan

I think almost all celebrities should die in a fire. They are reprehensible pieces of shit with no soul. They do anything for a little bit of attention. They cry in public and have breakdowns and everyone cares. They go to jail and complain that they cannot use moisturiser on their skin. They also cause dumbass lifeless teenagers to turn into this abonination;



There are, naturally, some exceptions to this rule. By some, I of course mean one. And that one exception is Lindsay Lohan. Yes, thats right. She's the trashy ginner who's always fucked and driving at the same time and who used to be hot but went really skinny and now eats drugs like skittles. But you know what they say about your first love. You always view them through rose tinted glasses, and my love for Lindsay is no different.

Believe it or not, there's rationale for this too. I'm not just following my penis. I view her as a female version of myself, except with money and fame. This is, as with all my comparisons, entirely accurate. First, she has a huge self destructive streak running right through her from her messed up head to her cute little pinky toe. Girl see booze, girl consume booze, girl get fucked and do stupid stuff. So far, so Statcat. Secondly, she thinks she's fucking mint and should get whatever she wants. Of course, being rich and famous, she does, whereas I have to settle for getting what I want only about none of the time because almost nobody knows who the Statcat is. Lastly, she is a nymphomaniac with a love of English accents. I would be most becoming of this.

Secondly, because I'm so sensible, mature and inspirational, I believe that I am the guy who can save her from her current demons. She is addicted to cocaine, booze and sex with strangers, but I know that if she'd just give me a chance, I could get her off the cocaine and nurture her other two addictions to acceptable levels (e.g. all-consuming levels). Eternally grateful, she would then indulge in sex and booze with me on a daily basis, improving both our lives immeasurably. I have always been attracted to women who need protecting; I can't explain it other than to suggest that it is my hormones and pheromones telling me that I'm a massive badass caveman who must protect my mate and cubs from the werewolf like in the stone ages.

Lastly, she's different to all the rest because she simply doesn't care about anyone else. The other celebrities care far too much about what people think. For example, Angelina Jolie has had around 16 different images in her career, Christina Aguilera about 45, and Madonna is the missing evolutionary link between Man and Chameleon. Linday Lohan is happy to be the ginner cokewhore, and I am really attracted to that honesty of spirit.


So, as I'm sure you'll agree, we're the perfect match. I just hope she doesn't die soon, but she probably will.

Benx

A Cheeseburger in a Can is Worse Than Terrorism

Mankind has created a number of monumental things, like beer, sex and chicken jalfrezi. It has also created a number of terrible things, like Mo Mowlams moustache, Channel Five and dieting. However, two of the worst things it has invented are terrorism and the Cheeseburger in a Can.

I'm not shitting you. It exists. Look at it.

Would you eat that? Do you honestly think it looks like that when it comes out the suspiciously small can? All fresh onions and juicy beef?! Do you cook it in the can or out the can? Is it Aberdeen Angus? Does it come with or without relish?

The cheeseburger in a can is symptomatic of the lazy world we live in today. I am all for being extremely lazy at every viable opportunity, but even my fat white ass isn't lazy enough to cook a cheeseburger in a can. I am reluctant to microwave a meal, preferring instead of chow down on mashed up spicy lamb thats been spinning on a stick in front of a radiator for three days, a.k.a. the kebab. To purchase a kebab you are required to walk to a takeaway, thus negating the laziness of this option. Low is the man who dials up a takeaway to have a kebab delivered to their house. Low indeed. But lower still is the man who consumes a canned cheeseburger, and lowest of all is the man who does not warm his canned cheeseburger prior to consumption.

Indizzle, those people are more damaging to the world than terrorists. A terrorist, also known as a freedom fighter, is someone who fights passionately for a cause they believe in. Although we may, nay should, disagree with their methods, they are activists who go out and do things, who try, in their minds, to improve the world around us. They tend to be fit and healthy, although mentally unstable.

The person who eats a canned Cheeseburger has already admitted defeat in life, and does not intend to improve the world. They are happy to do nothing. To respire until they expire. To take up space and insult my eyes. I want to punch them in the face with my size ten army boots.

But what of the cheeseburger itself? What does it symbolize? I'll tell you what. The death of western fucking civilization. Destroyed by apathy, laziness and the totally outrageous priorities of the average person. Hey, my government are killing thousands of innocents in a far away sandy county, my state pension is now worth nothing and I'm going to die of MRSA next time I go into hospital but, never mind, Pop Idol is on in a minute and my canned cheeseburger is almost ready.

One terrorist might kill fifty people, but one canned cheeseburger symbolizes the pathetic death of an entire fucking culture, and I'm not happy.

Benx

Guitar Fucking Hero

The government thinks that it has a role to protect it's citizens. It's wrong, of course. The world would be a far better place if we were allowed to just get on with using electrical appliances with wet hands and letting babies stick forks into toasters. We should be allowed to consume drugs with reckless abandon and have fights in the street. We should be allowed to shoot terrorists, anyone we deem to possibly be a terrorist, and people we just don't like in the face with no warning.

Unfortunately under this modus operandi we have to listen to bullshit. We aren't allowed to eat drugs because they harm us. We aren't allowed to smoke indoors because little Billy will catch AIDS and explode. We aren't allowed to drive fast because we might hit some old dear, who should probably already be dead, as she crosses the road.

Despite the pussification of our country, most of these laws actually improve us. If we do not eat drugs we can run faster and jump higher. If we do not smoke we remain free from AIDS. If we drive slowly passers-by die less often and in less spectacular ways. These are all positive outcomes, and the government, despite being really wussy, should be commended for its foresight.

I must then ask why Guitar Hero isn't banned. Guitar Hero is more addictive than porn, more pointless than making daisy chains and more psychologically damaging than a rusty ice pick through the skull, yet its influence is allowed to spread unabated. The game has a street value of around £70, but unlike other drugs, only one purchase is necessary, as it then attaches itself to your hands, leech-like, and sucks away your free-time, social life and fingernails. In around three short months, the user is gradually reduced to a tearful, gibbering wreck, shaking in the corner, only a shadow of their former selves. The effect is not unlike that of a very, very bad acid trip, only without the possibility of having a good trip. Ever.

Even the best of us are not immune to it's awesome destructive power. There was a time, around a month ago, when I was a dashing young graduate with good teeth and prospects. I was world renowned as the most immortal person on the planet bar none. Today, I am a shell of a man, my soul splayed away by round after round of Guitar Hero. I wear the same tracksuit bottoms for weeks on end and eat only what I find up my nose or stuck to my bumfluff. And this is after only a months exposure to Guitar Hero. Unlike other radioactive substances, Guitar Hero does not become less harmful over time. In fact, it becomes more potent with each passing day. You complete it on easy, medium, and once you've had your pinkie finger surgically repaired, hard more. You spend the next month blabbering incoherently and hallucinating orange buttons on walls before you beat expert. Another two months pass before you finally, whilst smeared in your own faeces, get five star ratings on all the songs on expert.

It is between that milestone and the next that most players finally kick the bucket. Unlike other illnesses, there is no known cure for Guitar Hero other than suicide. I know of between zero and seven instances of players beating themselves to death with their plastic guitar as they fail for the six thousandth time on the intro to Through the Fire and the Flames by Dragonforce on expert mode. One player was discovered hanging from the ceiling with an apple in his mouth and his plastic guitar deep in his arse, with the words "Through the Fire and the Flames; Completed 1%" displayed on his TV, his face an unnerving mixture of agony and ecstasy.

Even completing this song does not signal the end of the illness. There is no escaping, for the victim now enters the score zombie phase of Guitar Hero. Unlike other genetic defects, score zombies are neither understood, nor studied, nor allowed out in public under any circumstances. The victim simply stands, naked and unblinking, surrounded by a den of pizza boxes and beer bottles, tapping away at the plastic guitar improving their top scores by 10 or 20 points a time until their life is claimed by scurvy, rickets, or some other horrible form of malnutrition.

Yet, despite this shocking prognosis, the government will not step in to outlaw Guitar Hero. How long will they stand by whilst English men in their early 20s slowly turn into demented shit-throwing vegetables? How long will they allow the brains of their country to wither and die in a maelstrom of coloured dots and 80s hair metal? How long will they continue to let lives be destroyed?

Thus, I pledge my vote for the next election to whichever party promises to outlaw Guitar Hero. Just not until I've completed it.

Benx