John (Film Making #2)

This is the second film I made. Just today, John and I were messing about with the camera and using the same very basic techniques as before I managed to create this clip insulting John's intelligence. 

Film Making #1

Someone recommended that I try my hand at making movies, so that night (last night) I took about ten minutes to make this minute or so clip with the few things I had lying around my room. Though the result is admittedly pretty awful it taught me how to use the camera and windows movie maker for editing and adding music and effects. (Sorry for the poor quality I had to compress it for the web).

McCoy's Crisps

McCoy's Crisps (manufactured by KP Snacks which is owned by United Biscuits (sorry but company ownership interests me, for example did you know that Mars, makers of Mars Bars, also make Dolmio sauce?) anyway) are marketed as "Man Crisps", MAN CRISPS: KOOORRR!! PHROARRR!!! Sexism is clever gimmick also used by Yorkie Bars: "not for girls" (Nestle) that successfully increases sales because men buy the product because it's targeted at them and women buy the product because they are told they can't have it. Genius, so how do you appeal to everyone? Discriminate. But I digest...
The thing that Puzzles me about McCoy's is that it is advertised as "Man Crisps" (because they're made with men, by men, for Ben...what?) yet they also advertise, "25% less fat". Now call me a stereotyping, misogynistic, sexist (actually please don't you'll make me cry) but I'm pretty sure most men don't care about that sort of thing? That kind of bribery belongs on an Activia shot, not PHOOAR crisps. Surely this is a particularly moronic oxymoron. So KP, save me the gender confusion (that's why I don't blind date) and instead write: "McCoy's: now 25% less manly" or "McCoy's: everyone crisps" or better still just buy Walkers where you only get half a packet full, because half the price goes to stopping it being sexist.

Sundays

With so much to do my only excuse is I was too busy doing nothing to do it, what? Today I watched “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” a film someone recommended to me as the best film ever made and that I now recommend to you to not see it as the worst film ever made. It was weird because I didn’t think it was Johnny Depp because it didn’t look like Johnny Depp, but then again Johnny Depp never looks like Johnny Depp. It seems I’ve wasted far too many hours of my life watching plotless drug-romps and gaining nothing from the experience apart from don't smoke Jeffrey and don't swim in toilets. So I lay in bed watching Terry Gilliam at his weirdest, in my dressing gown, pants and kilt socks, eating chocolate, wondering when this film would end. When it did, my computer-dumb face was in a weird mood so I staggered outside in my dressing gown, pants and kilt socks, eating chocolate with my water bottle and a friend took me back inside thinking I was drunk, no idea why, wherein he asked me to help plot a model relating diseases to population development as if I understood what he was vomiting. Vomiting, great word very on-o-mat-o-p-o-e-i-a-ic like BLAAAARRRGGH! I sat on top of his cupboard and kicked his stuff about and almost fell out the window then fell back here and procrastinated more writing this in this weird Duke mood, I proablably shouldn't talk to people like this, I ploablabry should work, hu? So, yeah I had a great Sunday, how was yours?

What's Wrong With Half-eaten food

A discarded polystyrene bowl on a grass verge made me look away in disgust, the remnants of a meal rotting on its surface. Then this made me think, why was this image unappealing, I love food, what’s the difference? The answer was simple, because rotting food is not nice; it’s horrible and can cause disease, so leftovers are not pleasant. Then I suddenly answered a question I’d been wondering for a long time but never looked at in any depth. In the dining hall (not cafeteria, horrible word) at school the trays of finished meals are stacked in a mobile rack for later empting. I normally eat everything off my tray (including the plates and cutlery), not out of principle but because I love food, and so, when stacking up my tray, I happen to glance someone else’s muffin or something with one bite from it and I become hugely tempted to take it and eat said muffin. But I never do. Something stops me. I’ve always wondered why and now I realise the answer. It’s because anything half eaten is no longer the delicious meal of five minutes ago, but suddenly becomes waste, leftovers and immediately invokes images of rotting matter, bacteria, disease and all things nasty and for some reason this subconscious connection outweighs my hunger, even if the food is practically untouched, it’s not right to eat it. It’s a practical fear that separates us from the poop eating dogs and monkeys. I just realised another thing: I’ve never understood why chefs, mainly on telly always go on about how presentation is everything and if it doesn’t look nice it won’t taste nice. Now I realise that this because there is such a thin line between food and waste, and if the dish is laid out like it’s been half eaten or discarded, then those prejudices I’ve just stated come into being and a perfectly good meal no longer appears appetising, simply from its appearance.

Bridge

-The card game. I understand bridges, bridges make perfect sense, and sense makes perfect bridges... where am I? Oh, yeah on a bridge. I don’t know how to play bridge (the card game) to be honest. It seems that bridge used to be incredibly fashionabubble and instead of watching television people would play bridge for hours on end. Some still do, well those who have been cryogenically unfrozen. Also; why do, in every single pack of cards, they have an extra card telling you how to play bridge, as if people buy cards for the sole purpose of playing bridge. They should have the rules to poker or blackjack. I once tried to read that card, I’ve had nightmares ever since. And what’s with the name? Well, I believe it comes from the inventor: Bridge McBridgeson who devised the game of bridge when, whilst driving over a bridge, was wondering how he could incorporate his job as a bridge-maker into a game of cards that would grasp societies for centuries. His brilliant idea involves placing two tables about a metre apart and constructing a bridge of cards across the two and the person who puts on the last card shouts, “bridge!” to win and the world hasn’t back since. I think that fully illustrates that I know nothing about bridge.