Tuesday, 24 February 2009

Underground Dentistry

For a short while there, I thought I'd glimpsed a tiny wobbly crack in the universe.

Watching Being Human, BBC3's supernatural dramcom about a werewolf and a vampire and a ghost sharing a house in Bristol*, I am almost convinced from my standard dislike of the vampire in fiction as an aristocrat rockstar bullshit.

My personal sympathies tend to lie more with the dirty, punkrock spittle of the werewolf or the democratic dead-eyed slump of the zombie. Vampires are poseur fucks. They literally suck.

However, my interest in things toothy was piqued by one Annabel Scholey, who plays a genuinely sexy vampirixen. Dark bob, chewable cheeks, heaving cleave. This however is not the story. 'Specially since she been finished by a table leg through the bosom anyway. The story is that she had seemingly not been recognised by the interweb.

I could find little or no trace of the little lady. Tiny pieces of the corner of my mind began to drift toward the ceiling like dark grey smudges rising from a bonfire. How could this be? Something had become loose at the hinges in the universe. Some graven law was rubbing away before my keyboard-clacking fingers.

Then I realised that her name was spelt wrong. History was denied, but there was a press shot to be admired.

Peace out.

Your pal, Coc x
* Not even a squat, which seems terribly law-abiding.

Saturday, 14 February 2009

Well, that's Two Hours of My Life I'll Never See Again

Part of my advancement into senility and cultural irrelevance involves the acceptance that pop culture will not be as it was. I almost accept this. But every now and then, something happens which churns my guts up a little too much.

This time it's MTV2's decision to drop 120 Minutes from the schedule and replace with some weak-arsed Vintage show or somesuch. The flickering light of the truly alternative is that little bit close to cold extinction. Truly thrilling videos were on that channel; now the early hours can be condemned to the same shit heap that the crayon-scented NME regularly reports on. Music seems to be on the way to serving as nothing but a soundtrack to visiting fucking Top Shop. Maybe that's all it ever was.

As I type, MTV2 is showing The Stone Roses' I Wanna Be Adored as part of their Top Ten of 1991. An admirable tune, which caused a considerable stir on its release in 1989. Foetus-sucking cretins.

Fuck the lot of them.

Your pal, Coc x