Monday 18 May 2009

Patchin' It All Up...

Saw another ad today for the mysterious Pink Patch and it made me sigh and shake my head in world-weary despair, like Clint Eastwood might if he wasn't so busy taking down the 'hood and feasting on the inspirational carcass of Mandela's oft-regaled story (Actually, Mandela's a bad-ass, so he can get as many bio-pics as Hollywood sees fit). Googling "pink patch" gives you a link to their website, and a long list of questioning "what the hell is this thing?" posts on various forums and blogs.

Consensus amongst those who haven't tried it is that it's a messy marketing ploy designed to prey on insecurities by parading an advert of a hawt bikini bod adorned with her trusty pink patch (totally necessary for those svelte curves, of course). It's been called sinister by the BBC, and with fair cause; targeting the youth as they so shamelessly do (endless MSN, Facebook and Myspace ads all bear the mark of a teen target audience) just compounds the fact that they are offering a product said to give reliable, healthy results in no time at all, without actually going out of their way to tell us how it all works.

The information is there, however; and the ingredients list, once found, does show promising signs of an actual product under all the gloss and spectacle. The underlying concept is eat less, lose weight (makes sense), and the patch will help you by curbing your raging appetite with its magical chemicals. So for the obese ones in the crowd, it could probably help shed a few pounds here and there (being a metric enthusiast, I don't really know how much a pound is, but I hear it's enough to warrant losing), but if you're looking to get a beach body, this is probably not the ticket. Pink Patch won't tell you as much, but it makes sense; fruit n' veg always win out in the end.

So yeah, not really sure where this post came from, but it's here nonetheless. This is why I don't have any readers. If you're there, stick with that fat 'til something a little more clear cut comes along. Besides, you probably look great; maybe even better than me.

Damn The Music Business...

As are basically half of the entire student population, I'm an aspiring artist trying to break my way into the real world of actual audiences and recognition. Making some money along the way would be nice, but I'm keeping my hopes to reasonable levels for the moment. Unfortunately, my bassist has defected to Sweden, so I have no band whatsoever, and my solo stuff isn't exactly blistering, heart-stopping rock.

London is where I should be, of course, but Cardiff will have to do. It's a bit of a huge village, everyone seems to stick out for each other here, which is nice, but at the same time you can't beat an international melting pot like London town. There's an ad on Gumtree that I've spotted for acts wanted in Cardiff. Think I'll sign myself up, can't hurt and it might actually go somewhere. Here's hoping they don't mind me using a variety of backing tracks and improvised ghetto-equipment.

Sunday 17 May 2009

Bankers and Politicians

I like the news these days; good news is always a nice, heartwarming thing to have but bad news will guarantee a healthy audience and stir some motion in the social ocean. And boy have we had some bad news of late.

First off, I have no income, no job, no real raison d'etre at the moment; I'm in between university courses without anything to do until September. I have no mortgage woes, no pension worries, no political allegiances. I find the news to be quite riveting entertainment. It's actually a whole lot of fun to watch these tales of bitterness and money woes; I feel I shouldn't be enjoying it so much, but I do regardless. Like the Enron scandal, but for the entire world.

Every MP, banker, or general rich person in the world right now is feeling a weird, underlying guilt, even if they've "done nothing wrong"; or at least they ought to be. The environment for this crazy state of affairs has allowed them to flourish, but even within the rules so carefully guarded and upheld, everyone's now seeing that it wasn't so foolproof after all. I mean, hardly anyone's actually broken the law; it's just that everyone with the power to screw up the economy in a little way has done so, and these things accumulate. Resulting in a massive shitstorm of outcries and uproar. Everyone on the news is resigning, all the banks are saving each other from collapse, all the investors are gazing dumbfounded as the stock market does it's thing.

MPs started getting greedy, at a time when they really, really shouldn't have. Feeding the hard-to-come-by money of the taxpayer into the whole allowances model doesn't seem right to begin with, but it's understandable; after all, they do need a place to stay in London while their families chill out at the house in *enter-constituency-here*. Just, y'know, should have given them a little bit less, that's all. Maybe they don't exactly need multitudes of bedrooms in the finest neighbourhoods in the city; if we (a loose we; not really a taxpayer at the moment) are paying for their houses, surely we should be able to see what extravagances they are allowing themselves.

Greed is contagious, and greed is inevitable; but this kind of thing could have been stopped. I honestly don't think that MPs are in much money problems anyway, even if you don't count the allowances. But I'm no authority, I'm just the freeloader in Cardiff, watching the entertaining news and wondering where it's all heading.

Eurovision

OK, no-one's a fan of Eurovision, at least not in this country. And I'm talking about real fans; average British Joe might enjoy watching the spectacle of watching the crazy Europeans and their weird songs (which are 50% techno, 30% power ballads, and 20% actually weird, but strangely awesome). Most everyone quietly revels in the constant stream of disappointing votes tallied up by smiling, ecstatic people speaking flawed English in various accents. There's a community about it, watching the British effort go sinking into the mire of political voting, and Wogan's calm contempt tickling our ears. At least that's how it should be, in any case.

Now however, we've got this mysterious jury subtly tweaking the results behind the scenes, and all of a sudden the UK finds itself on the left hand side of the panel. Furthermore, we're in the top-5. That's pretty badass (if Eurovision can ever be called badass, that is). However, it also robbed me of my annual dose of malaise. It became an actual competition for the Brits again, but also made us hope again. Balls that it wasn't political this time round; of course it was. And the UK will never win, unless we really rock the boat, and we all know that's never gonna happen. We'll field some safe bets from now on, I think. No more Scooch for us, for better or worse. (Personally, I thought Scooch actually brought us closer to our mad songwriting brethren on the continent, rather than further apart. Also, remember that Andy Abraham came second in a certain UK talent show, but Europe decided it only deserved 14 points last year.) Didn't care for Jade all that much, some dodgy lyrics, but a solid song. We can do better. Ronan Keating being Danish all along was a shock, too.

Norway's entry was the usual Euro fare: catchy chorus, an off-centre instrument choice (this time the violin, and prominently), dancers, all that jazz. Some kid singing an English song he wrote about long lost love, whilst whipping out his violin for some mad licks now and then. An overwhelming win for Norway, even beating Lordi to the topspot in the Eurovision record books. Not bad. A certain Norwegian is getting laid tonight, I'll tell you that.

Also, Graham Norton wasn't half bad, thankfully. Taking more from Wogan's past efforts than from his sickly talk show, he got a thumbs-up from me.
A surprising Eurovision.

Nash's favourite ever Eurovision song: Bosnia & Herzegovina - Laka - PokuĊĦaj

A Word For Now: Presumptuous

It's just occured to me that making a blog entirely about myself, with my name in the title, without any plans of maintaining and advertising it actively, or any real direction in my thoughts, writings or opinions, is a bit bold. I think I might not be as instantly successful as I hoped to be (worrying after about a half hour of active blogging). Damn, now I'm downright miserable, in a hoody trapped in my sister's old bedroom with temperamental broadband.

Also, weirdly, Google doesn't have a decent way to blog from an iGoogle homepage. Don't know about you, but to me that seems a bit...daft, really.

Well, Here I Go...

I won't pretend to have limitless opinions, timeless advice or even the good sense to advertise this thing properly, but I felt like making a blog, so here it is. Topics barely exist, labels won't match up properly, and it will probably be a bit of a mess, but it's here regardless, and if you've happened across this message, follow me for more. They won't make much sense, but boy will they be hee-larious. But really, keep reading.