Tuesday, 24 February 2015


Spring is definitely here.


Told you.

Friday, 20 February 2015

You Are Not Stallone

Everyday is littered with tell-tale signs reminding us of the unwavering passage of time. One such sign i find particularly affecting, is how motherfucking far i have to scroll down the DOB year list when i'm buying plane tickets or whatever. Bums me out. The Fat Jewish hit on another one recently. Discmen.

Another one i find a little stinging, is that the film Cliffhanger is so close to my heart.

Anything you watch when you're like eight is going to have a profound affect on you, and my brother and i wore the tape in this VHS down to the fucking nub. But the above looks so old it could be a fucking retro James Bond poster. And that makes me feel old. I envy the youth of today, with their angry birds and their snapchat and most of all their attention spans.

But no youth of today has ever watched, or will ever watch Cliffhanger. As a result, no youth of today will ever be able to describe the unbridled motherfucking joy of finding the best acting performance of all time, hidden within the first five minutes of this staggering bit of cinema.

It concerns the - in almost all respects - pretty tense scene when the chick falls from the trip-line. 

Strange the way Sly's monumental triceps can't take the weight of a 9-stone girl, but plot inconsistencies to one side, it's the performance of Frank the helicopter pilot that deserves closer inspection.

As the scene nears it's disturbing finale, Sly's doing his absolute worst to keep hold of this chick who's about to fall to her death. Looking on from the side is the husband of the lady, some seriously hench rock-climber with even less acting prowess than Stallone, and our aforementioned man Frank.

And it's the performance of Frank that steals the show. While this lady is evidently about to die...

Frank is absolutely CREASING himself.

C H E C K  H I M  O U T

Seriously just watch the scene. 

At 0:15 he's just warming up, but it's on 1:10 - as she's falling - that he's in HYSTERICS.

I don't know if Universal weren't paying him jack and he'd decided to botch the film in the only way he knew possible, but i mean how else can you explain this behaviour? I'll tell you one thing. 

At that moment in time acting was pretty fucking low-down on the list of Frank's priorities.


My brother and I used to spend DAYS rewinding and watching this again and again and again.

I love the fact we weren't alone either. A youtuber has uploaded the scene and hit upon the magic too.

Check out his description.

So am i buddy, so am i

And now i hope, so will you.


So yeah as an up-yours to all those little ragamuffins born two decades after me, no i can't fucking play angry birds - i could but i refuse to - and no i won't live to see the 2070 World Cup final. But i can still recall the unbridled fear of buying a porn mag, and i can tell you about Ralph Waite's frankly unbelievable performance in the first five minutes of Cliffhanger. And that makes me happy.

Wednesday, 18 February 2015

Incredibly Dope Shit

You need to read this.

From the Times on Saturday.

About the little known Temnothorax Longispinosus ant.

Left to their own devices, these tiny creatures trundle happily around the forest floors of North America. Unfortunately their neighbours have other ideas. Every so often nests are raided by larger ants who massacre the adults and bear away their babies to raise them as slaves.

The heavily armoured Protomognathus americanus ant has become so dependent on captives that it can no longer find its own food or clean out its own colonies. 

Being too small to fight their overlords, some of the slaves have found another way to exact revenge: they dismember their masters' children and scatter the bodies outside the nest. Biologists have been at a loss to explain what the rebels get out of this reckless defiance. Why does the pismire strike back?

(Some zoologist dude from the some University) believes that he has found the answer. It is not some death-or-glory impulse that sparks the slave revolts, but hard-headed evolutionary sense

The smaller ants will never overthrow their masters, but the more children they slaughter, the fewer overlords there will be in the future. This helps to protect any free Temnothorax colonies nearby.

"As enslaved workers do not reproduce, they gain no direct fitness benefit from this 'rebellion' behaviour. However, there may be an indirect benefit: neighbouring Themnothorax nests that are related to 'rebel' nests can benefit from a reduced raiding pressure."

In other words, the slave ants are driven by their genes to rise up not for their own benefit but for the sake of cousins they will never see, and whose very existence they might be only dimly aware of.


NATURE   is  


Tuesday, 17 February 2015

Yagga Yagga Yagga

You can't ask for more in life than a really fucking beautiful day.

I'd say today just about applies. I woke up here

Sue me, i've got a great arse and an incredibly long invisible selfie-stick.


Anyway that time of year when christmas present thank-yous start getting rude and dawn starts getting to work earlier and when, one day, this much sun decides to fill the sky, it's pretty much that time of year when dropthebeatonit starts tediously and mercilessly and unflappably heralding.... 

t h e   a r r i v a l    o f    s p r i n g

And guess what.

Because i did work experience for BBC WEATHER back in the DAY yo.


Here's also where i drop my incredible collection of spring artworks fashioned back in 2013.

Anyway, it's here motherfuckers. No doubt about it.

Monday, 16 February 2015

Only Life I've Got

Scott Fitzgerald once said..

The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.

Gatsby was clean, but throw monday mornings and existentialism into the mix and the man is talking out of his derrière.



Aligning these two on a sorry ass grizzled monday and your dome's going to go...


No i didn't get them mixed up. I've been shooting hoops from sand-ramps in the sunshine all morning.