so what about the Libyans?

Dead, you'll have seen that though

Colonel Gaddafi is dead, shot by persons unknown after being dragged from a sewer. His life ended in a manner that befitted a brutal dictator. The press reveled in the pictures of the last moments of his life, captured on videophone. It was all over the front pages of Friday’s papers.

Quite frankly, I found it all pretty disgusting. I’ll link through here to some of the front pages – I won’t host them here as they were vile. Take for example the Sun’s headline: THAT’S FOR LOCKERBIE. AND FOR YVONNE FLETCHER. AND IRA SEMTEX VICTIMS. Er, what about the countless Libyans persecuted, tortured, murdered in his 42 years of power?

This war wasn’t supposed to be about the West. This was part of the Arab Spring, an uprising brought about by the disaffection of a people subjected to cruelty and yearning for a fairer, free society. Yet you wouldn’t have thought it, to look upon the gloating, hypocritical press.

Yes, Gaddafi was responsible, however indirectly, for many Western deaths. But this wasn’t our victory, it was the Libyan nation’s. And what about all the children who would have seen the pictures of Gaddafi’s dying moments or his corpse? Our press bangs on about the loss of childhood and how films, computer games and the internet are warping children’s fragile little minds. Smacking a great big picture of a dead man on the front of your rag helps that how?

It’s important to acknowledge moments of history like this, but when we celebrate a death like Gaddafi’s in the manner we have, we lower ourselves to that level. Gaddafi might have been a murderous despot, but there is no place for the glorification of any death. It’s unjustifiable, and wrong, and despicable. Gaddafi would’ve been proud.

Man Wolfs

This is the greatest shoe ad ever:

Ministry of Sound

This is pretty boss:

Fanny Chmelar

This is pretty funny:

In other news

-Off drink.

-Robot Chicken is brilliant.


This is pretty beautiful:

Tremble with a sigh…


Mitch needs catharsis…

It’s not about the fame. Honest.

Loving father?

It seems like yesterday that I woke up, hungover to fuck, and found out that Amy Winehouse hadn’t woken up, hungover to fuck. I don’t care for her music whatsoever. Her story was tragic, but none more so than any other addict who died too young.

Maybe it was too much to expect her to be able to lay to rest in peace. But, just like in life, Winehouse is making headlines. Or rather, her father Mitch is.

Mitch is going to write a memoir of the singer, to be published next year. He says he needs to write “to tell the true story of Amy and to help with my personal recovery”. The spokesman from Harper Non-Fiction proclaimed the book “will be a must-read for Amy’s legions of fans, and also a heartbreaking account of a father’s love for his lost daughter that will speak to any parent”.

Call me a cynic, but is this really about telling the story of a fallen star? I’m not so sure. While all the proceeds from the book will go to The Amy Winehouse Foundation, a wise man once said (or I just did) “not all profits can be measured in pounds”. Mitch was a taxi driver – now he’s a media personality, releasing his own albums. If he hadn’t sired a pop singer, where would he be now? Probably wherever his next fare told him to be.

Plus, all these “heartbreaking accounts”, to paraphrase American Beauty, make me want to puke my fucking guts up, Sir. The ‘tragic life’ section of Waterstones is possibly the lowest ebb of humanity. The very fact that people act so barbarically towards others is disgusting. But then for people to write and profit from those acts, and for others to voyeuristically lap them up with a cup of cocoa makes me want to give all this up and go feral.

I also find it fucking distasteful that the publishers are talking about the book like a blockbuster film – to be released in summer 2012. It’s not Batman. It’s a book about a girl who got fed drugs by some fucked up people, destroyed her body, and never woke up. So, just let her rest, yeah?

Bullseye Contestants

FAVE new tumblr:

"He's my dinner, Jim"


Steve Jobs

Sorry I slagged you off the other night, I was drunk. Steve Jobs was a marketing genius. He hasn’t changed the world, the guys who invented the gadgets did. Maybe. But whatevs, I’m being a pedant. Good on you Steve. Sorry for being a dick.

In other news

-Don’t go Dave :(.

This is mental.

-I don’t like it when you fuck up my strawberries. Stop fucking up my strawberries.

If you don’t swagger listening to this, you must have NO game:

I love pretending to be hip. Please don’t take it away from me.