Diary of an up and coming sociopath

On Thursday, after work, I made sure to go and see X-Men 3, which despite initial worries, turned out to be my favourite of the three films. I’ve covered it in some detail over on PXM (in the articles section) though it’s not my best work, because I came in from the film about 11:30, waited until Nikki was asleep, then spent the rest of the time before I went to bed trying to hammer out as much text as possible, so it’s not the best structured piece I’ve ever done. Gets across my general sentiments pretty well though. I also enjoyed the arrival of my Alias hardback book in the morning.

Friday was supposed to be a works thing but when we got to the pub we should’ve been in, it turned out that the guy didn’t actually wish to have our custom. Along the way, we were separated from the wandering group and gave up to come home, though luckily the new volume of Genshiken was waiting for me.

On Saturday we met up with Seb and Rachel at Euston (sort of… we were slightly closed to Kings Cross in the end) and some guy called Mark, who I assume to be their friend in some capacity, took us ’round London showing us the closed tube stations. It’s impossible not to get incredibly interested in the tube network when you A) use it every day and B) are a total nerd, so it was fun to learn a bit more about it. The sheer amount of stuff going on underground London, even ignoring the tubes, means that my brain is already rife with conspiracy theories. At one station I nearly cracked my head open when I jumped up a wall to get a better look an abandoned platform but misjudged the amount of friction I’d be allowed because I didn’t factor in the rain, but I managed to stay upright in the end. The rain quite literally dampened things a bit because it was pissing down near-constantly and even after we got home my jacket took hours to dry, though I was glad that I wasn’t hoodless like Nikki, or wearing sandals like Rachel.

Around 4:00 we ducked into a Wetherspoons in Islington which I immediately recognised as one that Tom was denied entry to for, well, technically it was because he had “no ID” but it was really because he looked like the disreputable sort or something. This was before an Easyworld gig at the Garage some 4 years ago, I believe. We all had some food and then we came back home and waited for Dan to turn up. We got out the chocolate fountain that my brother gave us after he managed to end up with two for the price of one, and then everyone ruined the melted chocolate by smearing it over fruit. Disgusting. We watched Robot Chicken which seemed to go down a treat, and then Never Mind the Full Stops, a grammar-based panel show the likes of which are normally restricted to radio, but which ended up on BBC4 (and thus, for download.)

I dropped Dan at the station and got petrol, and then we continued on to Hillingdon where the Oxford Tube turned up in what has to have been record time. I ended up going to be quite early (for me)  primarily because of the festivities I would be enjoying on Sunday..

One of the lesser-publicised nerdisms I have is that I really love action figures. It’s probably not much of a surprise, what with that Transformers obsession, but I’ve never really been able to justify the expense, having neither the money nor the storage space to get a habit going. This means I just stare longingly at the Marvel Legends figures and just dream of what might be.

The most recent set of Marvel Legends, though, was termed “The Onslaught Series” on account of how if you bought each figure in the line, you could assemble a giant-sized figure of Onslaught from pieces packaged with each one. Now, Onslaught was the big villain in X-Men and Marvel comics when I first got into them 10 years ago, and as such he occupies a special place in my fanboy heart. When I saw the figure I was psychologically destroyed and all obstacles in my way had to be eliminated in the pursuit of it.

To that end, I bought the first two figures in the wave last week, that contain the head and torso pieces. Pleased with my purchase, at lunchtime on Monday I bought the next 4 figures in the line and built the whole damn thing. It was looking a bit dodgy for a while as the assembly was surprisingly touch, until Josh suggested lubricating the joints with soap. He’s clearly done this kind of thing before, as it worked a charm and I was left with a fully articulate, excellently sculpted and horrendously geekish Onslaught figure. Onslaught’s catch phrase was “Behold my mighty hand!” and I have to admit that it is mightly, not least because it has posable joints for each figure, and because there are SIX fingers. That’s might you can’t buy in cans.

As for the figures the various pieces of Onslaught were packaged with, I’ve just flogged a couple on eBay and besides the Green Goblin one, I’ll be flogging the rest too. As much a Marvel fan as I am, I can do without a Blackheart figure.

Photos can be found on my flickr profile, which I have also updated with a single picture from the Radiohead gig. Yay.

As we’re all aware, when I’m not writing here or on Planet X-Men, I’m writing on NTS. In fact, most recently, I’m writing a review of New Super Mario Bros. on NTS.

This morning we got up at some obscenely early time (9:30am) and went to Gunnersbury park so that Nikki could take part in the race for life, though all I had to do was get out of bed and accompany her. It was pissing down, so while she undertook a 5 kilometre run/jog/walk I was standing in the rain lending moral support by way of drinking a cup of what bore some loose resemblance to tea. I did go on to find shelter until a tree so it was actually pretty comfortable. Better than running anyway.

It’s a totally female race, which means not only are there no men, but there’s also no competitiveness, it’s only for fun and everyone gets a medal. Sort of a first place is the first loser situation. During the announcements we were told both that 1 in 3 people get cancer, and that 1 in 3 people never hand their charity money in after doing the race. They didn’t outright state it, but I think it’s pretty clear what the implication was there. Even though it’s over, on the off chance you support cancer research (and let’s face it, with the NHS in the state it is, we need as much money pumped into this shit as possible so that the cures are actualyl affordable when the cancer comes to take our brains) you can add some sponsorship to her here.

When we got back, Nikki had a bath and I cooked us a chicken roast dinner so great even I was impressed with it, and for someone like me who eats them quite a lot, that makes it very good. While cooking it we agreed that there could not be too many roast potatoes, though we later discovered that there were indeed, too many roast potatoes.

For those not aware of the fact, Nikki and I have actually taken the last few days off work, primarily motivated by the abundance of gigs this week, as noted elsewhere.

On Wednesday I got to tick off another item on my “bands to see live” list when we saw the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at Kentish Town Forum. Following two truly horrendous support acts (we’re talking earplugs necessary, bad, rather than simply Willy Mason bad, which I’ll get to soon.) I spent the majority of the gig in the moshpit because I expected it would be a fun one. I was perhaps unprepared for just how much fun, though, because after around 45 minutes of it I was knackered, dehydrated and soaked through with sweat, and usually I can go for twice that amount of time without many problems.

The setlist went: Fancy / Honeybear / Pin / Gold Lion / Cheated Hearts / Black Tongue / Phenomena / Mysteries / Art Star / Miles Away / Warrior / Y-Control // Maps (acoustic) / Turn Into / Date With the Night

I went into the pit for “pin” and decided that I’d heard everything I wanted after “Y-Control” which also turned our to be the end of the set. Maps acoustically was great, having heard how good they sound acoustic on Jonothan Ross’ breakfast show a few weeks ago it was no surprise, but definitely a good thing to have seen. My favourite song of the set was probably Art Star - it was the first YYYs song I ever heard some 4 or 5 years ago, in Dad’s range rover on the way back home after my first year of Uni after Bowie recommended it, again, on Ross’ breakfast show. It was a great gig, and certainly a band I’d hope to see live again.

On Thursday, I was discovered just how badly I’d screwed up my limbs from the previous day, and it didn’t really click until I went into Central London in search of the week’s comics and found that walking was not unlike dragging lead weights around. While wondering around FP I decided that now was the time to start really making use of that disposable income and bought two Marvel Legends figures, solely because they have two pieces of the Onslaught build-a-figure. I got the Head and Upper/Lower Torso pieces (with Pyro and Deathstrike figures, which are up on eBay right now because I don’t even slightly want them) I’m very pleased with how it worked out, even if Onslaught currently resembles a really evil parapalegic version of himself, with no arms and legs. I’ll be buying the rest this week, assuming FP haven’t sold out or something deeply inconvenient.

On Friday, I was blessed by twin joys. First, my copy of New Super Mario Bros. arrived. You have no idea how long I have waited for this day. I’m currently revising my review for NTS so I’ll link to it from here as soon as it’s done. Let’s just say that as expected, it’s almost totally supplanted Tetris DS.

In addition to that, there was the almost-as-anticipated Radiohead gig, at the Hammersmith Apollo. Still smarting from the YYYs gig I opted to wait out this gig in the normal crowd with Nikki. The support act was the truly diabolical Willy Mason. I was starting to wonder if I’ve gone soft on support bands because most of the recent gigs they’ve been pretty acceptable. Between this and the YYY’s support, though, I realise that support acts are as shit as ever. I understand some people might like Willy Mason, but to be totally honest his voice grates on me like a dentist’s drill. It could not have been over sooner for me.

Luckily, the ‘head’s appearance totally blew out the lingering cobwebs of Willy Mason’s performance and made it all seem that it had ocurred in a different lifetime. The simple fact is that there may quite well be no finer band in the country than Radiohead, and if that sounds like I’m being unoriginal, all I can say is that they’ve become popularwith people for a very good reason - that one. When a band can keep me hanging on every note during NEW songs, I know they’re something special because songs I don’t know often bore me to tears. Radiohead played almost an album’s worth of new material and still I could’ve heard more.

The set went: You & Whose Army? / The National Anthem / 2+2=5 / Open Pick / 15 Step / Exit Music (For a Film) / Dollars & Cents / Arpeggi / Videotape / Street Spirit (Fade Out) / Paranoid Android / Myxomatosis / Go Slowly / Spooks / Idioteque / Bangers ‘n’ Mash / Everything In It’s Right Place // There There / House Of Cards / Black Star / Lucky // 4 Minute Warning / Karma Police

Unfortunately, 4 Minute Warning was not the Mark Owen cover you might’ve been hoping for. Exit Music started off solo, whcih was great and gave us a chance to try taking some photos, Nikki’s probably going to stick them on her Flickr account soon if they’re worth sharing. My favourite song was Black Star, because it’s currently one of my favourite Radiohead songs, alongside Let Down and Planet Telex, though somewhat annoyingly they’ve been playing those on this tour too, but not tonight. Some of the new stuff was surprisingly straight rock & roll music which I’m incredibly interested to hear studio versions of. The quality of the new work is so good, I can’t wait for the new album. The main compensation for that being so far away, though, is that we’ll be seeing them again at V in August. Awesome.

Yesterday I subverted the norm by getting up before Nikki, on a weekend no less, and going to Bristol to a comic convention (well, THE UK comic convention) though we both nearly scuppered by travel plans when Seb met witha  bus drive who wasn’t going to allow him to pay and I was delayed by the Tube.

A funny thing about the tube is that it can tell you a journey will take 30 minutes and then take twice that long. I made it to Paddington with zero knowledge of where I was going, and about 2 minutes to spare. I found a board and just as I read what train I was suppoed to be getting, I heard an announcement saying it was about to leave. I looked at the board, which told me I needed to get to Platform 11. Then I looked around for a sign, which told me I was next to… platform 2. Cue some entirely unwanted sprinting the length of Paddington station. I did make it onto the train though. The first time I jumped in a door I found myself surrounded by bikes, and assuming this wasn’t some kind of bicycle-based invasion, I found a more suitable carriage.

Managed to meet Seb in Didcot, and then we travelled on to Bristol. We spent a short while trying to figure out where we were supposed to go for the hotel, eventually phoning Rachel for help and then following the trail of nerdish T-Shirts, which meant a conversation we had on the train about T-Shirts suddenly began to prove surprisingly prescient. We then had to walk back from the hotel to the train station, because only the talks were at the hotel, the fun stuff was in the conference halls of some museum.

As you can expect, the majority of the day was spent flicking through boxes, reminiscing about crappy old comics, geeking out over the rarer ones, and generally immersing ourselves in total nerdism. Seb showed me a hilarious comic from the 90s where Blue Beetle and Booster Gold got Exxxtreme makeovers that I initially refused to believe wasn’t a parody. This sort of in-depth comics examining isn’t really possible at other conventions. At some it’s because I’m with other people who won’t stand for that sort of hanging around for an hour, at others it’s because there’s no way to get around the whole thing if you were to stop for any in-depth analysis. The convention in Bristol was actually quite small compared to what I usually go to, but I spent easily the longest there than at any other.

We had a look at the Top Shelf stall and I decided to do one of my entirely rational “I’ll definitely buy it one day, so I might as well just buy it now” moments and spent £30 buying up Jeff Brown’s back catalogue. The guy at the stall told us how Jeff Brown had suddenly made it big in the UK this year, and thanked me for the sale because “small press lives and dies by each sale.” Pity the postage costs to the UK are astronomical else I’d do it more.

Mid-way through the afternoon we tried to find a pub that was open to have some food in, but eventually discovered that there was a canal between us and any possible eating venue. Temple Meads station should otherwise be known as the Station to Nowhere, because there’s really nothing you’d want to go there for besides a museum and a comic convention, unless Bristol’s finest, crappest hotels is your big interest. We did eventually find a half-decent place called Toto Rothschilds on our side of the canal and I was pretty pleased with the food, even if the dude serving us treated us not unlike the social lepers a couple of comic geeks would naturally appear to be.

On the way back, the train line website had scammed me into buying tickets for a train Seb couldn’t actually get, so I left him on the platform and was free spend my trip home reading the comics I bought (Avengers: Ultron Imperative, A Brian Wood issue of Generation X, and issue of X-Men Unlimited and the Jeff Brown stuff) as well as Excel Saga Volume 14 that Ian had lent me.

All in all, a most satisfying convention. I wonder what some of the talks were like, and it sounds like if you’re into the UK comics scene heavily the real thing to do is hang around after hours and get involved in the after-show events, but that wasn’t really possible. Perhaps another time. I look forward to future visits to the Bristol con.

Amusingly, last time I was in Bristol it was some years ago, we were staying at Relly’s flat, meeting her and Paul for the first time, and seeing Easyworld play the Ashton Court festival. It sometimes surprises me how much has changed since then. I’d do a list but if you lived it, you already know, and it you didn’t, you probably don’t care. I mean, I don’t even especially, it just gave me an odd sense of continuity to be hanging around in Bristol again after so much has passed.

Just so we’re clear, while I’ve not been writing in the blog much, I have been doing so elsewhere. There’s my current set of comics reviews on NTS, a bunch of site updates at PXM and a good portion of a blog update waiting in the backend (entendre!) of this very system.

However, it’s late and I’m tired. You can wait one more day to read about my exciting adventures in Bristol this weekend, can you not? (That’s what’s called a “teaser”, folks.)

My copy of New Super Mario Brothers for the DS was shipped from Play-Asia today. I quiver with anticipation, so much that I’ve had to play Mario 3 to stave off the hunger, like giving methadone to heroin addicts. But soon the shipment of purest junk will arrive from Japan and I’ll be playing until my veins dry up. Hopefully, within a week, a whole 2 weeks before teh UK release date. I could kiss the guy (or gal) who removed region encoding from the DS, doubly so given the price of the dollar right now. Fucking excellent stuff.

Having watched the conferences at E3, my impressions are thus:

If I was a Sony executive, I would be very concerned right now, given how muted the reactions to the PS3 announcements were compared to the Nintendo and Microsoft ones.

I don’t care if it has a shit name, I will buy a Wii, the same day it comes out, because it looks utterly awesome. I just have to save up for a decent sized TV to play it on.

Microsoft’s unveiling of GTA 4 as coming exclusively to X-Box 360 might as well have just been the words “WE WILL BURY YOU” on the big screen.

Luckily, as with all console debates, there is a total lack of perspective surrounding the whole issue of which company will come out top in the end, and I’ve been enjoying the debates. It’s definitely a spectator sport. There are many ways to argue about which is the superior console, Some of my favourites being:

1. Unqualified opinion stated as fact - “PLAYSATION 3 IS TEH BEST BECAUSE IT IS THE BEST”
2. Bafflingly blinkered claims that don’t hold up to any reasonable scrutiny - “PLAYTATION 3 IS TEH BEST BECAUSE IT HAS…” followed by a feature that the 360/Wii also have
3. Vague and unqualifiable reasoning - “PLAYSTAION 3 IS TEH BEST BECAUSE THE GAMES HAVE BETTER PLAYABILITY AND THE GAMES JUST FEEL BETTAR”
4. Just plain being a moron - “PLASTATION 3 IS TEH BEST BECAUSE NINTENDO IS FOR KIDS”
5. The more rational path of being understanding and sympathetic - “I am going to buy a Wii but just like people need to read Dan Brown books, watch Big Brother, and chain smoke instead of clothing their children, the PS3 will be right for some people.”

Amazing to think that this was a year ago.

On the way to Tescos yesterday morning, Ian came up with the shock confession that he’d never seen the Mario Brothers Movie. Luckily, this is the era of free information exchange, and more importantly, of rampant piracy, so later that evening we were able to sit down and watch the aforementioned cinematic gem.

My god.

It’s been easily in excess of 10 years since I saw this film, and I’d forgotten how truly insane it was. It’s like someone was given a brief about Mario, but who had never, in fact, who was actively *discouraged* from playing the game. Pipes? I guess we can shove those in. Dinosaurs? Why not! Sounds like a laugh. Can we get the word “Thwomp” in somehow? I thought so! And soforth. It resembles Highlander 2 in that it feels like a different film with the license nailed onto it, except, if you took the Mario license off the film it still wouldn’t make any sense. Even as a twelve year old, I knew that someone, somewhere, had missed the point completely.

Still, it’s never a terrible idea to re-familiarise yourself with a bad film, like the time Ian and I watched a bunch of Batman films just so we could confirm that they were in fact shitty.

On Friday Nikki and I went to Smollensky’s. Having just spent £30 on food, when we asked for the bill the only response we got was “What!? No desert!?” Well, no. No desert. Only bill. After that we went to Leicester square and I got mint ice cream from the Baskin-Robins there, though I mainly learnt that while it might seem quite hot in the evenings, ice cream’s still going to make your face numb this time of year.

Every day in the Metro, there’re tonnes of adverts and promo pieces about all sorts of crap you wouldn’t be seen dead at. Once in a while, you get something good, which then immediately turns out to be prohibitively expensive, on some kind of limited sale deal, or simply sold out. I was therefore simultaneously gleeful and glumful to see that Chuck Palahniuk was doing a reading tonight.

After Haunted came out, I checked his site religiously for months waiting to see when the tour would hit the UK. I eventually lost all hope about 6 weeks ago, so when I saw in the Metro that it was finally happening, I was practically kicking myself. “Returns only” it said. When I got into work I decided to give it a shot anyway, and gloriously I found that the “returns only” claim was total bullshit. A mere £8.50 for tickets, it cost.

So, after work, I got to hang around for an hour and a half (during which time I went and bought Ultimate X-Men Vol. 1 erroneously thinking I would need something to read later) before heading off to the Royal Festival Hall in Waterloo. I don’t think I’ve actually been to the above ground part of Waterloo in, well, ever. It’s pretty classy around there.

The talk itself started at 7:45 and lasted until 9:00. There was a signing after but for plenty of reasons, I didn’t stay for that. Primarily because I’ll be damned if I’m waiting a couple of hours in line so that I can buy a book I already own just to get it signed. Plus I couldn’t bear the thought of trying to come up with something not stupid to say, which is a constant worry whenever I get about 15 seconds of time with someone whose work I obsess over. For instance, Douglas Coupland and Simon Pegg. I may as well just have dribbled on my shoes.

The chat at the start was hosted by some writer who spends time hanging out with cults and stuff. I forget his name, which is a pity because it sounded pretty interesting. After a brief introduction, Palahniuk read the story from Haunted about the guy dying after he falls into a geyser, which was great. Not my favourite from the book, but it was enhanced by the smell of cooking meat because he brought with him a barbecue beef air freshener for everyone in the crowd to open.

After the reading, there was some Q&A where many an hilarious anecdote was recounted, in between insight into his technique. One such story was about how the only time he lost a friend over his work was when he did the first public reading of Guts and the carrot guy was in the crowd. Another time he read the same story as he did today, and a woman in the crowd left in tears because her friend died that way. He also talked about when he worked in a factory and came into work with a black eye that no-one would mention, or even look at, which obviously made it into fight club in a slightly different form. He spoke about how he though his parents arguing when he was a child affected him, because when he was at a party and a married couple on opposing teams in trivial pursuit started fighting, everyone else recoiled and he just got nostalgic (”Why does it feel like christmas?”) And he gave an update on the status of all the movie options. Susan Sarandon in Choke, it seems, and Josh will no doubt be pleased to hear that Survivor is definitely in development.

On the way back, I managed to totally randomly get on the same tube as Nikki who was on her way back from her work party. Then I watched the latest Lost, which had such a horrendous ending it’s going to leave me screwed up for weeks. It’s like when Xander’s eye got gouged out in Buffy, only much more distressing. Jesus.

This weekend it was Damian’s birthday, so he came down to visit us and receive all the comforts one can expect on such an occasion. He even got to sleep on Josh’s floor.

We went to see Silent Hill yesterday. I admit I wasn’t that enthusiastic about seeing it, but since it was Damian’s choice I was happy to go along. It actually turned out to be pretty good. The script is a bit ropey at times, and the casting’s slightly off, but it’s made up for by the sheer fucked-up realisation of the monsters and the truely brilliant direction and special effects. Perhaps the dodgiest thing about the film was when we realised that Sean Bean’s entire subplot doesn’t actually intersect with the rest of the film at all, as in, if you removed it entirely you wouldn’t damage the story at all. We get the feeling that sometime after they finished shooting Bean’s agent phoned up and was like “Okay guys, Sean says he can fit you in” and the movie-makers were like “Oh shit, we finished shooting…well, maybe we can fit him in somehow…”

Lines from Silent Hill you will hear me use: “BURN HER AS A WITCH!” (Shouted with speed)

Lines from Silent Hill you will not hear me use unless I’m taking the piss out of them: “In the eyes of a child, Mother is God.”

Unintentionally hilarious lines from Silent Hill:
“They used to say this place was haunted.” “I think they were right.” (spoken shortly after characters are attacked by fucked up screaming mutant babies)

They managed a surprisingly faithful conversion of the game, anyway, with some artfully disturbing depictions. Like all horror films it loses the atmosphere at the end when they need a climax, which involves the main antagonist ripping apart a church-full of townspeople with her barbed wire tentacles. It was fun, but it loses the subtlety of the previous 90 minutes.

I predicted a 6.7 on IMDB. When we got in it was 6.8, but at the time of writing it’s at 6.7: I think that makes me more of a better judge of people’s voting habits than the film itself though. I certainly wouldn’t be adverse to watching it again in the future, but I’m not so sure it’s worth owning. I’d recommend it, if you’re stuck for something to watch. And let’s face it, there’s nothing but shit in the cinemas until X-Men 3…