A secret shame

Uh oh. Britain’s got talent.

It is a shame that creeps up on you when that perfect combination of lethargy and boredom blends into a “meh” souffle. There is something about that show. All through university I would drain my library card funds through wireless internet, watching a little screen during supposed study sessions. 0416cowellTwo, three, four hours would pass. I wouldn’t have learned anything but I would have been quite inspired. And broke. A small price to pay to see Simon Cowell smile.

At the moment I am trying to write two stories that certainly don’t want to write themselves. The solution: British inspiration. Susan Boyle has been plastered everywhere but there are other greats out there for whatever reason don’t get the LA Times beating down on their door in an obscure corner of Scotland.

So I thought I would get multimedia on you and share some of my favourites. It didn’t help my productivity and I doubt it will help yours. But that is not really the point, is it.

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Gordon Gekko: A player or nothing

michael-douglas-as-gordon-gekkoGreed is good. Greed works: The immortal lines from one corporate raider of the past: Gordon Gekko. Gordon Gekko requires colons, he screams for them. Dramatic, over the top, and in the right place at the right time: worth a million dollars.

20th Century Fox are now apprently producing a sequel to Wall St. That film which made being a wanker cool. Being a dick justified. But it was made in 1987 when everything was pretty dickish. Hell I was two years old and I’m pretty positive I was a dick. A dick in fluro pyjamas. But 20 years on things have changed.

Gordon said back then, “Greed…for lack of a better word, is good.” Indeed. But that takes on an entirely different notion in 2009.

In 1987 you could get away with a lot. Lieutenant Colonel Sitiveni Rabuka executed a bloodless coup in Fiji. Kylie Minouge released Locomotion, Hustler Magazine v. Falwell was argued before the U.S. Supreme Court and a squirrel closed down the New York Stock Exchange when it burrowed through a telephone line. locomotion_kylie_minogue1It might not have been that squirrel which caused the largest single day drop percentage drop in stock market history but most likely it was a combination of all previously mentioned factors. New Zealand’s exchange fell 60 per cent from its highest point. So in that context Wall St was somewhat prophetic. In todays context perhaps even moreso.

“You own the company,” Gordon tells Teldar Paper stockholders, “And you are all being royally screwed over by these, these bureaucrats, with their luncheons, their hunting and fishing trips, their corporate jets and golden parachutes.” Ehem. He goes on, as Gekko is prone to do, “Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms; greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge has marked the upward surge of mankind. And greed, you mark my words, will not only save Teldar Paper, but that other malfunctioning corporation called the USA.”

gekko-11Go Gordon Go! Hell at the time I wanted to be greedy. It meant I could smoke cigars, wear big suits and have sex with Darryl Hannah. I wanted to do all that and I was only two.

 Now greed has spoken different words about that malfunctioning corporation known as the US of A – too much of it and you get fucked. Gekko manipulates the market using inside information. Nothing will stop him from pursuing a good deal. Any. Means. Neccesary. “Blue horshoe loves Anacot Steel. ”

So what would a Wall St II look like? Michael Douglas, who won an oscar for his role, is coming back as only Michael Douglas can. Charlie Sheen apparently couldn’t make it because he is too busy snorting coke of the chests of strippers in Vegas. But Gordon Gekko… aged 65 is out of jail and has pursued other interests. Harmless interests…

Seeing the boom in the U.S housing market Gordon has turned his back on the corporate raider game to run a mortage agency. He is the Mike Pero of New York. He is doing well. 2005 is particularly good year. mikepero160Then a word keeps cropping up “Subprime”. Every where he looks it keeps niggling at him. Careful Gordon, Mike Pero tells him. Careful.

“Lack of common sense,” Gordon says at a mortgage lender conference “for lack of a better bunch of words. Is good.” So things go well, Gordon makes a fortune. With his bumper crop he goes and buys a large US car manufacturer for what seems expensive but it’s a good investment. Americans will always buy cars.  At the same time he gets into managed funds back on Wall St and is able to get a few of his new mates to invest. Kevin Bacon, Steven Spielberg, Bill Gates, all the big names. They are all keen, Gordon is a man to trust. He is god damn diversified.

In the original movie the protaganist Bud Fox asks Gordon: “How much is enough?”
“It’s not a question of enough, pal,” Gordon answers. “It’s a zero sum game, somebody wins, somebody loses. Money itself isn’t lost or made, it’s simply transferred from one perception to another.”

So in 2009, Gekko is behind bars getting molested by a 200kg she-male called Brutus. “Right in the ass you fucking scumbag cocksucker!”

Gordon Gekko: “A player. Or nothing”.

Just me and my ladies

http://www.stuff.co.nz/nelson-mail/news/2372178/Economy-boosts-competition-in-brothels

I got nervous when I called up some sex workers to ask them “wassup”. I wonder why that was. It wasn’t the first time (kidding). But I really was quite stuttery.
I hope “Shaniqua” didn’t think I was a loser. Well she did ask if she could change her name from “Storm” to “Shaniqua”. How do you spell that I asked. Idiot you just spell it the usual way.
But despite my bufoonary she was more than willing for an old chin wag. Even told me about a few new deals. The 20 minute special apparently is quite popular. Clients are less willing to fork out the $200 for the hour long session but more and more are enjoying the convinence that a $100 20-minute spruce up provides. I suppose you can get quite a lot done in 20 minutes. If you put your mind to it.
Another I spoke to (who didn’t want to give me an awesome name) lamented the legalisation of prositution almost six years ago. Those were the good old days back then, she said. “Things have changed, it used to be really nice and a fun industry to work in.”
Now I guess it has lost its charm. “A lot of guys liked the idea they were doing something naughty.” Even chatting down the phone to her, I feel a little naughty. But I go with it.
So now this whole sex business is legit, the funny thing is there is no real way of figuring out how many brothels run in a particular area. Councils treat the businesses the same as any other so they are mixed in with the coffee shops, the gymnaisums and the playcentres. Go figure.
Registrations with local courts don’t require physical addresses. But Nelson is pretty small, so I know. Shaniqua told me.
Because it is like any other industry now it is also not immune to the credit crisis. Can’t imagine how many customers used to use VISA. Now, well, They have to settle for those $100 cash specials.
I wonder what I would call myself if I was a prostitute? Thoughts?

The Inuits are Restless

eskimo-family

Trouble is brewing in lolly land.
Cadbury is apprently racist and their world of sugary treats is going to come crashing down. The Inuits are restless. And they don’t like being eaten. They also don’t like being called Eskimos which apparently either means “eater of raw meat” (too bad sushi lovers) or “snow shoes.” Either way you can see how they are pissed off.2607458564_b53f09627d1
But then again most things I associate with Eskimos in the food world are quite delicious. Eskimo Pies. How woud Inuits react to that? Lucky it slipped under the radar.
I sometimes wonder about our facination with culinary Eskimo’s. Late at night. Alone.
A Christchurch academic has called the sweets offensive saying Inuit friends in Canada likened the popular sweet to “eating white people”. I can’t imagine being eaten.
But it does raise an interesting point. You can see the logic behind an Eskimo Pie being an icecream. But a marshmallowy treat?
It draws the dangerous line that often occurs when something delicious becomes somthing racist. But I can’t think of anything remotley comparable.
But the controversy is rampant. People in cyber space care about Inuits and their associated confectionary. Not necessarily in that order.

Sample:
1)”You would not call a sweet the “N” word would you – although i doubt most in NZ know what the “N” word is. The lack of understanding of race relations is sometimes beyond belief. The UK of the 70’s is alive and well and booming in New Zealand.”
2) “I think i will now market my lolly cake as “Inuit Burial Ground”
hmmmm chopped up Eskimos wrapped in biscuity-goodness”
3) “Can’t we all just get along?” NOTE: I think this sums it up  –Eskimos are a delightful soft sweet – firmer than marshmallow – shaped like an Eskimo-
4)”OMG”
5) “OK, to start with the argument is so utterly ridiculous it not even worth going there, different cultures = different cultures. if we really wanted to get picky about it we should tell the Japanese that how they answer the phone “moshi moshi” is super duper offensive… when saying this in some parts of Switzerland it actually means the private area of a woman…so I feel that it slightly out ways the whole eski thing but NO,THERE HAVE BEEN NO POLITICAL MOVEMENTS OVER THAT!!!!! Grow up and have an open mind when you travel, why even bother if you are just going to find things that offend you when you are in another country!!!”—
Yes it is true. Even while the UN’s own anti racist forum is being boycotted, never fear. The challenges of the world’s ethnicall diverse makeup are being currently solved  in the forums of cyber space. 405 comments later, with oodles of slander disguised as banter, I think we have reached a denouement…
Cadbury is doomed to Inuit invasion.

muslims-riot-france

Some demented logic

I love my Grandma because she uses words like “ghastly” and “dreadful”. And she drinks ridiculous amounts of tea, all of which she thinks are “lovely”. But then she says of one of her carers. A particulalry frumpy looking one.  “That one. She is not attractive at all.” I laugh. “Not that she can help it perhaps,” Grandma adds as a qualifier. Perhaps.

But she can change her mind in a minute. Sometimes less. A certain indecisive decidedness. That apparently comes with “dementia”. I read that in her file that we keep on the kitchen table available to all carers that come in and out. It is written down along with bad eye sight and hearing loss. Among other things.

Dementia? What a horrible word. Too much akin with demented, which in turn is too much akin to Jack Nicholson bursting though a splintered wooden door with a fire axe….. “Heeeeerrree’s Grannnnnny.”flm00436the-shining-jack-nicholson-posters

I think not. She ain’t got “dementia” she is just indecisivley decisive. 

Do you feel like a cup of tea?

“No not really.”

One Minute…

“Well a cup of tea would be nice.” Of course it would, so I have one with her.

It’s strange when you see your Grandma scanning the words “Sex Offender” sprawled across the front page of the Sunday Star Times. It doesn’t seem…right. Along with many other things about the Star Times.

Similarly it is hard to know what the hell she is thinking when I casually switch the channel to an episode of The Hills (I know). She seems sonewhat intrigued. Pauses. Ponders. Asseses. And then makes her ruling.

“Some of those girls are just ghastly,” she declareslauren-conrad_l3

 I agree.

“Well I’m glad,” she says.

At least my Grandmother thinks I could do better that Lauren Conrad.

I came home today to find the front door open. Granny not in bed. Not in chair. Not in bed. Possible scenarios? She has not left the house by herself in several months. Abduction? Who would steal a granny? Hmmm silly question. A faint panic but there has to be a logical explanation, one that would be thought of by a 90 year old with inexplicably decicive indecision.

And there she is, pottering about, around by the garden.

“I thought you had run off down the street,” I say.

“Well I don’t think I could have probably done that,” she replies. Dementia, Ha, she laughs in its face. “I just thought I should come and get some fresh air and have a look at the garden,” she adds. Can’t argue with that type of demented logic.