Yo ho ho!

And fashionably late, merry Christmas! FYI the festive season for me has been poor films (with the exception of Black Narcissus) and poor TV (with the exception of Doctor Who - particularly the trailer for next year's season). With the advent of cable and the DVD revolution - a reliable friend assures me that DVD sales are rapidly exceeding VHS - there seems to be no need for British network programming. Well there bloomin' well is. Communal experience. It's what web 2.0 is all about, and television needs to appreciate it's place - not at the periphery but at the centre. If people are going to discuss things there needs to be something to discuss. A proper discussion revolves around one central topic, not a melange of entirely disparate experiences. This was not provided by the sort of five-channel showing this year round. If I wanted to talk to my friends about meaningful topics I'd drink less lager. Now come on TV, pull your finger out and give us things to compare and contrast, whether in person or online, 'cos for one I;m sick of saying how great Doctor Who was.

Life imitating art

Rather depressing news to wake up to on a Saturday, Jon Spencer dead at the age of 58. Spookily cause of death was a heart attack which lends an inappropriate element of absurd humour to the whole thing. It remains to be seen whether Lisa Faulkner suffers a deep-fat-fryer/gunshot to the head related fate.

Ben Folds, Brixton Academy 13th December

Last gig before Christmas and a rather special affair, though once again down in the dank depths of Brixton. I'm not the world's expert on Ben Folds so as soon as he'd rattled through Songs For Silverman I was a little bit lost. Sound stuff though - a personal favourite moment being the cover of Dr Dre's Bitches Ain't Shit.

On a pretty much unrelated note have just discovered the joys of Radio 3's Bach season. Just as they did with Beethoven, the BBC are brodacasting all of Bach's work over a ten day period from the 16th to the 25th. Little bit of culture for you there.

Pop Music

Signs you're officially getting a bit old - when its more important to get the last tube home from a gig than stay for an incredible performance by Kaiser Chiefs. I should point out that Xfm is talking the purest bollocks when it speaks of the "ecstatic crowd" for Chas 'n' Dave. They received quite the shower of bottles. Anyway. Editors good, Maximo Park amazing but very annoyed to miss the Kaisers. Boo.

"We will not be part of your machiavellian plans!"

For the last few weeks my time-sink of choice has been Star Wars Battlefront II, an evil leech of a game, but mere methadone compared to the 100% pure gaming smack of Civilization II, a game which - foolishly - I've chosen to reaquaint myself. Whether building Bach's Cathedral in Newcastle, sending sweeping dragoon raids through central Europe or establishing the city of Leeds at the head of the Nile, it's a game that keeps on giving, though, admittedly, mainly to people who attach a nostalgic joy to sitting in their room with curtains closed orchestrating the defeat of the Roman Empire.

Well, it was nice to have a life and friends but I've got more important things to get on with now.

Evil Nostalgia

Arcade games streamed over the web. Yes, it's a bug-prone Java player, the system crashes frequently and it's loaded with pop-ups but hey, no such thing as a free lunch.

Doom-ed

A hectic workload and neurotic fear of the outside world has kept me away from external gatherings more threatening than a few pints of lager over the last couple of weeks but I was finally tempted out today to experience (enjoy is definiteyl not the right word) the delights of Doom set to join the ranks of Super Mario Bros, Tomb Raider, Mortal Kombat and Streetfighter in the hall of waste of time cinema adaptations of video games. (Resident Evil and Resident Evil Apocalypse are naturally excluded for being brillliant).



Of course in no way was I motivated by the presence of the lovely, lovely Rosamund Pike. Which is just as well cos she was rubbish. Also rubbish was Karl "man of many accents" Urban and, disappointingly, The Rock. The presence of former Gamesmaster host Dexter Fletcher was, sadly, too little too late.

The film itself failed to live down to expectations but in a sense this added insult to injury; it wasn't even enjoyably bad (cf Alien vs. Predator) and lumbered with a middle-section consisting of the cast running from point A to point B, then to Point C then back to Point A again was actually boring. Similarly pedestrian was the script and the bog-standard Aliens style sets and shots save a 1st person point of view sequence towards the end, which was more fun than it really should have been..

Disappointing tosh. Wake me up for Command & Conquer The Movie.