BIRDS 7

Though this won't come as new knowledge to the many who've already observed, or long known of, such things - it seems pleasingly ironic that the magpie, the bird which refused to mourn at the folkloric crucifixion of Jesus, is seen to grieve for its dead. Enjoy that Death Reference site - it's truly a good one.

BIRDS 6
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YELLOW REFLECTIVE 3

The profound loneliness of the yellow reflective jacket.

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MATTER CONSTRAINING MIND

Edinburgh University was the host venue for the latest invitee, Professor Michael Gazzaniga from California, to the prestigious Gifford series of lectures held at the four ancient Scottish universities. The lecture series has the purported intent of contributing to the advancement of philosophical and theological thought: 'natural theology', whatever in hell that means.

It's remarkable how a formal academic gathering in the imposing high-ceilinged Playfair Library with a couple hundred respectful erudite scholars can affect one's perspicacity - even for someone as avowedly hostile to the orthodox academic model as myself. It was only some time later that the extraordinary shallowness of the enterprise became apparent.

Psychologist Professor Gazzaniga wibbled and wobbled his way through his first two talks (Free: The Science Of Mind Constraining Matter), barely able to read aloud the unbelievably lightweight nonsense typed out in front of him. This was all accompanied by an inconsequentially superficial PowerPoint presentation replete with grade school spelling/punctuation mistakes and the inevitable moments of malfunctioning multimedia. If he wasn't inefficiently employing Dawkins' trademark rhetorical device of the absurdist example to prove highly contentious points, Gazzaniga was tossing around terms such as 'mind' and 'thoughts' and 'consciousness' and 'experience' and 'morality' with such inebriatedly undefined abandon that you wondered how on earth he even managed to gain a degree, let alone a coveted invitation to the Gifford Lectures.

However, it was the brief post-lecture Q&As that really found him out. The audience's questions were mostly insightful and pertinent to the topic, yet when Gazzaniga didn't freeze up completely, he invariably chose to misinterpret their focus through brazenly inaccurate rewording; a tried and trusted mechanism by teachers to avoid having to admit to not having an answer, thus preserving the vanity of their given social status as founts of knowledge.

It enrages you even more to consider the plight and gratuitous suffering of the thousands of research animals at the bloodsoaked hands of 'scientists' like Gazzaniga and company. I won't make this worse by relaying some of the nonsensical experiments alluded to - suffice to say that we humans are apparently so special and so unique because the other animals can't play the fucking piano.

FILLMORE DISCOS 33

Food, Inc. (***)
the information is familiar yet presented in a pleasingly visual manner - Schlosser is his usual wonderfully dry erudite self; stars deducted however for the Stonyfield puff piece and Bruce Springsteen in the final credits

H2: Halloween II (*****)
I'm not fooled by the stupid prejudices that Rob Zombie seems to attract, nor by the myth that the snoozefest John Carpenter original is some kind of inimitable classic: finally, after 31 years' wait, we get the definitive Michael Myers experience

Star Trek (**)
Star Trek, for some reason, translates uncomfortably from TV to film - personally, I miss the high camp, the low budget sets, the tremendous original cast, and the lo-cal philosophical allegory - much care and attention to detail has been expended upon this flashy new prequel, the effects and cinematography are tremendous, but ultimately it lacks charm and soul

Angst (***)
an interesting oddity, and clearly an enormous influence on Gaspar Noe in I Stand Alone - there's an irreconcilable incongruence between the calm thoughtful narrative and the killer's flailing lack of premeditation as he commits the crimes; also his clownish ineptitude becomes as increasingly irritating as does the excessive use of shoulder mounted cameras; still, that said, it's well worth seeing and boasts a nice Klaus Schulze soundtrack

The Ugly Truth (***)
oh yes please, the sublimely guilty yet satisfying pleasure of a chick flick with Katherine Heigl

Gimme Shelter (***)
shocking not only for the infamous violence, but also for how rubbish those mockneys the Stones are as a live act

A Perfect Getaway (*)
the scenery of the islands of Hawaii is as spectacular as this film is stupid - Milla Jovovich is wasted in this utter trash

Loft (*)
why let what is a decent story here get in the way of 'cutting-edge' design effects and enthusiasm of Final Cut Pro film school graduates? or the incredibly irksome soundtrack composer that refuses to be quiet for a single second?

The Damned United (***)
perfectly enjoyable film that probably overemphasises the comic moments that at times verge on Mike Bassett territory; this has the effect of making what is a fascinating character study of this extraordinary man Clough seem rather superficial

Dead Snow (*)
silly Norwegian sub-Sam Raimi zombie spoof - and when will directors learn? it's scientifically proven that zombies, Nazi or otherwise, can but shamble never to run

Sorority Row (**)
Sorority Row starts out great, with some nice cinematography and darkly humorous Mean Girls bitchspeak - sadly, the plot flatlines after half an hour or so to become a laboured generic popcorn slasher, with the unscariest villain of all time

Deadgirl (*)
if directed by Pascal Laugier ('Martyrs') then maybe, but as it is, this film is a dreary teen/horror/comedy/romance/allegory hybrid that fails on all counts - in fact, the final act gets so boring that you don't care how the film ends, just that it ends; oh, and anyone making a movie with a premise as sick as this shouldn't get all coy about showing graphic sex and violence

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WEB EXCLUSIVE

There's a web exclusive track from Afro Noise I featured at The Wire magazine online site, which is to accompany my Inner Sleeve feature on Yoko Ono's Fly 2LP in the current issue (November 09, #309).

DOGMAGRAPHICAL 2

An introduction to Helvetica cuisine...

Yay, it's Wednesday and it's Steak O'Clock! Presumably the word 'large' is the one blacked out... boo hiss.




'You didn't bring your Privilege Card? I'm sorry, sir, all food is 2-4-1 between 2pm-6pm every day only in possession of said card.'







'Homemade' fish finger sandwich, anyone? Accompanied with the beer battered onion rings perhaps? How about the chili & chocolate burger? Or the highly uncommended Revolution vodka pizza?

One can only guess how excessive the bill was for the design of this horrendous helvetica'd menu; consistent punctuation and correct use of apostrophes clearly come at an unaffordable premium.

DOGMAGRAPHICAL 1

QUICK FIX

Here on a few days' break in a sunny yet bracingly chilly Cologne, including some Benetti action on Friday night in Duesseldorf at Salon Des Amateurs.

YELLOW REFLECTIVE 2

This yellow reflective jacketed stormtrooper might look like an undersized weeble, but woe betide any of you Dundas Street transgressors as you grovel and beg for mercy. In vain.

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DOGMAGRAPHICAL

You know when something's pointed out to you for the first time, you suddenly start seeing examples everywhere that used to go unnoticed? Or at least in your conscious mind. See, ever since I watched that damned documentary Helvetica, a cursed lucidity has been bestowed. (And another welcome opportunity for me to have a rant.)

So it was the same upon learning of the underhand techniques of major UK supermarkets. One aspect in particular: the fact they're all just big fucking refrigerators - essentially to maintain the fresh-looking appearance of the fruit and veg, which can be up to 12 months old and therefore about as non-nutritious as all the other overpriced multinational mass-produced convenience crap that fill their sorry shelves. Even in a state of ravenous hunger, I can now wander around Tesco's for hours with my will to stay alive through voluntary oral sustenance ebbing away at an alarming rate.

Anyway, back to the horrors of Helvetica Culture. It first became noticeable during the recent trip to the London museums, in particular the wretched Natural History Museum and much of the Science Museum. Things took a further turn for the worse once the full extent of the plague became apparent in eating and drinking establishments. You really do start seeing this typeface everywhere, especially on menus and pricelists. And, truth be told, it's not that I have an issue with the font's creators and its venerable origins; it's the subtext of its usage that's the problem: proprietors paying big bucks to bring in the design squad zealots. The triumph of style over substance. Looks over taste.

Except that, as far as I'm concerned, and just as with people, without substance and taste you ain't got no style. So when a bistro, gastro-pub, or café, uses Helvetica as a menu or logo font, you just know that the food is going to have about as much flavour as your semi-reheated cardboard croissant on British Airways, and that's if you can even generate some kind of appetite for it in the first place. Ready for your yummy watery microwaved pasta penne freshly slit open from its plastic pouch, or did you go for the 'Mexican' chili? Didn't think so. Problem is, if you're like me, you've suddenly gone and excluded yourself from 90% of the UK's eateries.

To extend this convenient metaphor, the designer's job is to neatly and competently lay the cutlery and glassware on the table before the diners arrive. That's it. That's the extent of their importance.

YELLOW REFLECTIVE

After mentioning it in my recent BIRDS 6, here's another poignant example (for the sceptics) of that most powerful symbol of the new totalitarian state we inhabit. Never, ever, trust a man (or woman) in a yellow reflective jacket.