Record numbers of people in Britain have applied to leave the country forever to seek a meaningful existence on Mars.
Over 60 million Britons have applied to become Mars colonists with non-profit organisation Get Me the Shit Out of Here since submissions for a place aboard the first manned flight to the Red Planet opened on the 1st of May. Get Me the Shit Out of Here hopes to start transporting Britons to Mars by 2023, with more astronauts arriving thereafter.
“We knew we’d see a large number of British applications, but this is ridiculous,” Get Me the Shit Out of Here’s Chief Executive Officer David Parker said in a statement. “While we’re thrilled to see so many applications, transporting the entire population of Great Britain sort of defies the point.”
According to Parker, the company is eschewing scientific credentials in favour of “quirky, zany and easy-going people. What we’re looking for is not restricted to people with an academic background.”
Anyone can apply by submitting a 3-minute video stating his or her motivations for wanting to leave the UK and never return; with “It’s full”, “It’s dull”, “I fancy a change of scenery” and “It’s just crap” cited as the most popular reasons for leaving.
Get Me the Shit Out of Here received applications from all over the UK, officials said. Applications from High Wycombe lead the way, with Middlesbrough, Swindon, Derby and Luton making up the top 5. Shortly after applications opened, the Get Me the Shit Out of Here site crashed under the weight of submissions.
Adam Merry, a 38-year-old Mars hopeful from Maidenhead said: “I’ve been a bit depressed recently. After a divorce and the day I’ve just had, I think it’s time for a change. My video tagline states that I put the ‘nought’ in astronaut’. I’ve not had many votes.
“I’m not really a people person, so I think eight months in space and being one of the first to colonise Mars would do me good. I can probably deal with the toxic dust, arctic temperatures and inability to return to Earth. Internet access and the calibre of the women on Mars might be the clincher, though.”
There’s a sinister, yet alluringly dressed menace stalking the streets and playgrounds of British suburbia. A menace who’s surreptitiously been at the forefront of a halfhearted new look known as ‘Paedo Chic’. It’s a dour, pedestrian style that draws influence from charity shop and chav street fashions. Paedo chic is the dowdy, jumbled and musty old trend that’s taking UK cul-de-sacs by storm.
It’s a style that’s been gathering momentum away from traditional fashion for some time. Only recently has it been galvanised via a number of high-profile paedo pioneers making their way into the mainstream. Today, paedophile chic devotees are popping up everywhere; appearing in the Daily Mail; shopping at Asda and Millets; and making up a large proportion of the audience on the Jeremy Kyle Show.
Despite its unfriendly overtones, paedo chic is a look that anyone can work. Here, we’ve compiled a handy rub-down of many paedo staples so you can try out the look behind the safety of you net curtains.
This is Iain, 29. Iain’s working a dark, techie and functional look. The jacket says, ‘let’s tussle!’, but the glasses and backpack say, ‘only after I’ve downloaded and encrypted these files!’ Iain has that sci-fi, Matrix nonce style perfected. The joyless matching of black leather to a characterless turquoise TK Maxx shirt accentuates his washed out and worn facial features. He certainly knows how to work the mob gauntlet. His furrowed brow gives him that evasive demeanour. We’re sure he just wants to get home, stick a Fray Bentos in the oven, and get down to some quality Chatroulette time.
Well hello! Who’s this cheeky chappy? Remember guys, if you’re gonna accessorise, more is more. Just ask Greg, 46. This foxy old cad’s got all the delicious ingredients for a huge nonce pie, but has zhuzhed up the recipe by adding a set of rad wheels for dessert. Nothing screams limp, ominous sex offender like an unnecessary wheelchair. There’s room for you +1 with this handy and fun little add-on. We’re giving extra credit for those gorgeous leather gloves, reverse midriff display, and velcro shoes. Go get ‘em, Greg!
Here’s Neil, 22. Muted, unassuming pastel colours are a great look for the urban paedophile, and here they’ve been matched perfectly. The blue really draws attention to Neil’s pallid complexion, with his acne and harrowing eyes creating striking, haunting contrasts. Neil’s natural features are a huge benefit here, marking him out as a simply stunning nonce. Simple, dangerous and ready for a trip to Legoland. His crooked smile, unremarkable hairdo and cold white ears give his face an asymmetry that’s crucial for pulling off this number. To achieve a complexion like Neil’s, a strict diet of microwave dinners and fizzy Ribena should be adhered to. Neil’s got the look that’ll have nervous school office workers dialling the local police station for. Brillo!
Step back gentlemen, and make way for the Karl Lagerfeld of kiddie-fiddling fashion: Ray Hewlett, 63. Unnecessary raincoat, layering up, jogging bottoms, long hair and the use of a wheelchair despite having the ability to walk mark Ray out as a paed truly at the top of his game. Hewlett’s credited with kick-starting the paedophile fashion movement during the 70s, and, having cultivated his look for a number of years, he’s a well respected face on the ring. His rumpus of wearisome Scope threads embolden the ephemeral and effortless look of a paedophile, all topped off with Ray’s signature wiry locks. We also love the handy multi tool lanyard. His look says unassuming sexual predator on the prowl. Grrr.
For paedophiles, an infinitely more harrowing variation on the wheelchair is the electric scooter. Add a basket full of torches to the mix and you have yourself a genuinely terrifying ensemble. Just imagine being stalked by David, 61, with the whir of his electric motor doing little to drown out his frenzied panting as he draws nearer down the darkened alley. David’s sporting that casual day-at-court look that says, ‘How can I be a paedo? I can’t even take a dump without running out of breath, let along chase children!’. Whatever you say, Dave. We love the tracksuit bottom/suit trouser combo, and that sallow shirt really compliments David’s bleak features. His mouth agape is a lovely touch, lest we mention the white socks. Absolutely perfect.
On the set of the next X-Men movie, Stan Lee comes face to face with the realities of studio cutbacks.
If someone told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it? Singing sensation Bruno Mars probably would. He sure is keen.Ladies, if you ever happen upon a similar man you’d better snap him up real quick, because a man like Mars will actually jump in front of a train for you if only you’d ask. He’d shoot himself in the brain at your request. That’s dedication! Imagine Bruno, working himself into a Deerhunter style frenzy, picking up a handgun, pressing the barrel against his temple before pulling the trigger and blowing his brains out…for ya. Of course you’d be left to deal with the bloody mess, probable mental scarring and hours of subsequent police questioning, but who cares? Get this man some life insurance!
Would you do the same? No, probably not, because you’re a selfish bitch. Here are some other things our man Mars is probably willing to do for ya:
- Move to Spain for ya.
- Give up his seat on a train for ya.
- Unblock a drain for ya.
- Hijack a plane for ya.
- Name his child Dwayne for ya.
- Resit sixth grade for ya.
- Nuke the Ukraine for ya.
- Douse his balls in acid rain for ya.
- Sever his jugular vein for ya.
- Launch into a drug fueled, anti-Semitic tirade for ya.
- Sodomise Alex Zane for ya.
Do you know any other man that would do that? No. Because every other man is a dick for not wanting to kill himself for ya. I wish Bruno Mars would jump in front of a train for me. *Sigh.
It’s the docile crime wave that’s rocking Manchester to its very core. In a series of compliant attacks, young professionals based in the Northern Quarter are having their digital toys ruthlessly snatched like candy-laden babies. They’ve fallen victim to a benign hug.
For a number of months a gang known as ‘The Hug Life Posse’ have been terrorising Manchester’s digital sector, targeting prosperous but unkempt digital types who boast high-end Apple gadgetry such as iPhones, iPads and iPods.
The Hug Life Posse wait patiently while their target gets smashed up on specialty ales such as Hobbit’s Brown Finger and Curly Wurly Edale. Stalking like tech-hungry cheetahs in the Serengeti, it’s only when their quarry has vacated the safety of its watering hole that the huggers begin their fatal attack with astute precision.
Working in pairs, one of the two huggers will distract their victim with light banter. The jovial prey is too jolly on grog to comprehend what’s happening. It’s then that the attackers deliver the fatal maneuver. Gradually, the assailant makes the, ‘give me a hug’, arms outstretched gesture. By now the victim believes he has built sufficient rapport with his attackers, and in a split second of misinterpreted camaraderie, he obliges the deadly hug.
It’s at this moment that a second assailant carefully rifles through the victim’s pockets, pilfering whatever he can find, drunk with lust like an Apple fanboy on launch day. If the prey becomes suspicious, the hugger will dazzle his victim with verses of a boozy sing-along favourites such as ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ by Queen.
Only smaller items are taken, however, a number of Hug Life victims describe the horror having woken up without keys, shoes and even limbs. One victim relives the terror having been targeted by two ferocious huggers one starless night: “It was terrifying. They took all my gizmos. One minute we’re hugging, singing ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’, the next, they’re gone. They even took my Kindle. I’m not too bothered about that, though. It’s completely shit.”
Phil Henson of Greater Manchester Police said: “This Northern Quarter iPhone robbing spate reminds me of the great Chorlton-cum-Hardy pager thievery of the early 90s. It’s a vile and heinous crime spree that affects everyone in our fair city. What kind of world are we living in where you can’t even embrace a man without having your overpriced Apple products pinched? A shit one. That’s what kind.”
The police have several leads, and are appealing for witnesses or anyone who’s been a victim of a hugging to come forward. “We recommend that any close contact with strangers be avoided. No kissing, no hugging, no love making. We’ll crack this one, even if it’s the last thing we ever do in the history of policing. Ever.”
Homeless Matt, the weird guy who does open mic at The Swan, tops the list of additions to the NeilFest line-up this summer.
The outspoken musician who attends every open mic night in the Berkshire area will make his headlining debut at NeilFest in July.
Known for adding his own brand of desperate dour balladry to hits such as ‘Cheeky Song (Touch My Bum)’ by The Cheeky Girls and ‘My Humps’ by The Black Eyed Peas, this will be the singers only festival appearance, after some recent remarks regarding children landed his name in both the local newspaper and on the sex offenders register.
Also confirmed on Friday for the three-day
drink and drug binge extravaganza are Datchet rockers Neville the Cancerous Mole, Bracknell country-math band %%%, and Ascot-based Mumstep trio Smashing Shirley, who’ll appear on the Saturday night to help raise funds for more beer and nitrous oxide.
Speaking about the festival, promoter Neil Sullivan said, “Once again we’ve set a benchmark for the DIY festival. NeilFest had its humble beginnings in our back garden at uni, and now moves to the heady climbs of Leigh’s dad’s allotment.
“It’s not massive or anything. It’s just well chilled out. There’s no advertising like all the big festivals. We like to keep the everything local.”
This year’s DazFest is being supplied by Mike Chaff’s homebrew cider, with
drugs food provided by local dealer Ammo.
NeilFest takes place on Leigh’s dad’s allotment from Friday, July 8 to Sunday, July 10. Tickets are available by ringing Neil.
(Disclaimer: This post is not about a new music show called CTRL from Topman)
Smashinglad are gonna pull down your pants and dry hump you from behind with their new tepid music smell, Smashinglad Alt Ctrl Del! Hosted by Radio 1 button presser and serial rapist Vermin Kaye, the series will bore music fans to mental breakdown, as it features a veritable ‘oh crap, not them!’ of new and vapid music acts. Each show will have an exclusive ‘controller’, who’ll choose the acts Smashinglad have endorsed, in true Smashinglad Alt Ctrl Del! style. Lined up in the Alt Ctrl Del! hot seat for shows 1 to 3 is that arsehole one from the Inbetweeners, James Buckley, misfit Heather Small and high-lord of all that’s abhorent and lifeless in music, Mark Ronson.
With six insipid instalments taking place each Thursday, Smashinglad Alt Ctrl Del! kicks off on February 10th on Channel 49, and will air mediocre, but well lit performances from the blandest acts around, including Fuck Topman and Topshop, Topman Clothes are Probably Manufactured by Blind Seals, Brother, TOPMAN CLOTHES ARE SLIPSHOD SHIT and How Much!? For a fucking cardigan?, to name but a few. Smashinglad Alt Ctrl Del! paid the likes of Rod Hull, Leo Sayer and Sting to curate undersubscribed gigs in cities up and down the country. Now Smashinglad bring Alt Ctrl Del! to the small screen, giving viewers the option of moaning about modern music from the comfort of their own home. Miss out!
Vermin Kay says, “Yeah, I can’t really be arsed. Hopefully it’ll be a chance for people to see that I’m not just a rapist, but also an okay TV presenter. It’s annoying that this ‘ere telly show is a showcase for shit. There’s not a lot of live music on TV at the moment, only that slippery lizard-man Jools Holland and his awful, awful world music, so I guess it’s better than that. There’s so much great music being made; maybe one day we’ll get to hear it!”
Danielle Volkswagon, Senior Marketing Manager, Smashinglad says, ” Smashinglad Alt Ctrl Del! is about revenue. Alt Ctrl Del! means we get to feature the most commercially viable bands, dress them in our clothes, and put them out to the Channel 49 audience. It excites me thinking about how much money we’ll make – we’ll end up with huge piles of cash as these gawping, picture weary retards pile into our stores to try an emulate these marvelously named. We’ll be stinking filthy rich, all the while portraying the idea that we actually give a hoot about new music!”
Cool and wicked etc.
Deerhoof bring out the fanatical in me. After one ‘hoof gig I asked Greg Saunier if I could have the set list. Way cool as it listed what I assumed was a new song, but what was in fact an awesome cover by Swiss post-punk band, LiLiPUT. “Hitch Hike” has now been recorded for a soundtrack for the forthcoming book, Rules to Rock By. The book follows the life of young girl whose parents move from Brooklyn to Rhode Island, causing her to leave her band. I dunno if I’m gonna buy it, but you can buy it here if you want to.
Were my class assemblies like this then I may have enjoyed school slightly more. But no, to this day I can recite all the words to ‘Were You There?‘ and ‘Light Up The Fire‘ which, lets be honest, could quite easily be some sort of pro-pyromaniac ode. Anywho, PS22 nail the chill-wave harmonies of Beach House’s ‘Zebra’ with gusto. So they do look slightly like a cult, but I’ll take this over ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’ any day.
This song is overflowing with so much effortless and cool groove. Sadly I’ve missed the boat by a long-shot with Tune Yards. Depressing as it means I’ve missed the UK tour and now I’m gonna have to wait to see them. Also means that the CD is out of stock at my local record shop. Sigh.
Palladium have been featuring a series of short films covering topics centred on Urbex and the forgotten spaces of yore. They’ve got an excellent mini-doc that looks back at the birth of – and subsequent current state of – pirate radio stations in London. My personal highlight is the old age ex-pirate who regales the host with stories of arming himself with hand-grenades and shotguns, and tales of looking after semi-clad groupies who’d wash up at the base of their ocean based station.
I’m crap at remembering band names. I recoil to think how many bands have slipped into the ether owing to my inability in remembering their long-ass name. From The Kites of San Quentin is one such name. However, Friday’s performance at Manchester’s Ruby Lounge had me dashing to find a pen.
FTKOSQ blend deep, menacing dubstep basslines and trip-hop beats among a heady ruckus of glitchy synth. I’ve heard critics fire disdain at the masculine overtones dubstep encapsulates, not here. Singer Alison Carney cuts a sharp feminine line through a dark melee of noise. A voice more powerful tonight than on record, she rocks gently and smiles like a cheshire cat. Their songs are a moody broth that unfold into euphoric gorgeousness. It’s a mix of just enough disparate musical elements that make FTKOSQ quite awesome. Masterfully effecting, and engaging the audience far more than first support and the night’s headliners.
More about The Kites Of San Quentin can be seen on their Myspace.
I’d all but given up on track of the day as I think it’s too easy to fill the pages when I can’t be bothered to write anything longer than a sentance. I’ve had to make an exception for this. It’s so good it’s unreal. Those thrusting synth lines, that sexy vocal, and brass! Take me now! Such is my desire to fill a cold-wave gap in my life I’ve ordered Cold Wave and Minimal Electronics Vol.1 and pray it’s granted a hasty delivery. Enjoy.
We now know this: Summer Camp are not reclusive Swedes from the 80s, but in fact Jeremy Warmsley and Platform Editor Elizabeth Sankey.
We also now know there’s this single which is really really good, and painfully few songs on their MySpace that hint at a band who are versed in creating the kind of hazy music that you can quite happily get lost amongst this summer. ‘Ghost Train’ is such a song.
As with Summer Camp’s other tracks ‘Ghost Train’ begins with a line from another ’80s movie classic. This time Cameron Crowe’s, Say Anything…. “I’m sorry, it’s just you’re a really nice guy, and we don’t wanna see you get hurt” before the response, “I wanna get hurt!”. While ‘Ghost Train’ isn’t homage to the film, it does share themes of interactions and potentially putting distance between them.
It has that traversing landscapes aura about it. Coupled with overtones of adolescent long distance relationships, struggling to exist via poor connections and cross-country trains amid changing seasons. It’s a sweet and airy chug along with an O Superman-esque “Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear/I, I, I, I, I/You, you, you, you, you” over an awkward, infectious and darling synth line. The vocals are subtle and light yet bloom on the chorus.
(Originally published on Muso’s Guide)
It’s testament to my pedantry with facts that for the past week I’ve been telling people how I’m seeing Sydney based art-rockers, Vampires in Tokyo. Alas, it’s TEENAGERSINTOKYO I’m seeing, not Vampires.
Tonight at the Flowerpot support is Othello Woolf. Hair slick and dressed in black, he’s a lot less Dickensian-dandy than I was hoping. Nonetheless, his wonky-pop based swooning is intriguing and delightfully unalike. Despite the oft-warped nature of songs such as ‘Stand’ and ‘Deep Water’, band and Woolf play the grooves with honed ability and genuine relish.
Soon after lights dim to ominous hues of red, and TEENAGERSINTOKYO (I’m avoiding acronyms) grace the stage. Here to promote début single, ‘Peter Pan’ from their forthcoming album, Sacrifice, they launch into a slew of pulsing bass-laden gothic pop. Samantha Lim’s vocals are powerfully built and reverb laden, cutting through the haze of 80s synth, lightly abrasive guitar and racing drums.
The Teenagers playing is matched by their clothing, sharp and dark. Their threads lending an air of professionalism and inky glamour made the more present via their soaring shadowy-pop tones. The final song finds the band hitting toms and all sundry of beaters and bottles to praise by the audience.
They’re clearly here to do a job in convincing people of their ability, something that can get overlooked on recording, but tonight shines. Look out for Sacrifice, released through Backyard Recordings, 1st June 2010. Hear more here.
(Originally published in Disorder Magazine)