Processing Pain through Podcasts & Parkas

 

I’ve just realised how mentally ill I was in my twenties. Not via the conventional channel of therapy, upon which I’m frantically paddling after waves of mental health, but by listening to a podcast about serial killers and an old Oasis B side.

The human brain is a very complex organ, y’know.

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The Sergio Ramos Set-Off Theory

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Twitter is a weird place.

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Laura Jane Grace: Transitional Faze

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I’ve never been particularly comfortable with Caitlyn Jenner’s transition.

That bothered me.

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David Bowie: Heroes (& Villains)

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I recently wrote a piece for my other love, The Football Ramble, about the minefield that is celebrating a sporting achievement by someone who espouses unconscionable views or, as is more likely these days, inappropriate sexual behaviour.

You can read it here, if you care to, but I know many of you instantly drop into a coma when football is mentioned, so I’ll precis it.

I conclude that there has to be a separation between achievement and the individual, because the alternative is to fully endorse everything the subject has done in their life, even if you don’t know about it.

It’s not a comfortable position, especially when you’re dealing with the likes of Tyson Fury, but what alternative is there? To not admire anyone or anything ever, in case the person involved turns out to have views that differ from your own?

I’ll take my chances, if that’s ok.

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Shirley Manson: The Icon Madonna Could Have Been

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Opening an article about idols by declaring that I personally don’t believe in idols feels like one of those trite writing devices I spend much of my time bitching about.

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Piers Morgan: “A Stroppy Little Piece of Work”

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Nicki Minaj and Taylor Swift have fallen out on Twitter.

I know. I’m bringing it up and even I can’t be arsed with the details of an event with a cultural half-life of twenty-six seconds, but feel free to immerse yourself here.

The details aren’t particularly pertinent but I’m sure you’ll know someone you can impress with the resulting insight.

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Go With The Flo

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I’m usually excessively early to parties. It’s because I’m quite socially anxious, and if I arrive before anyone else, I can establish my exits and seating arrangements while simultaneously ensuring I don’t have to walk into a room full of people.

I spent much of my youth standing in empty nightclubs for much the same reason.

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ZZ Top: What goes in beard, stays in beard

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Next time we do one of those time capsule things, let’s not waste time with DNA, classical element samples and blood from random passers-by.

Just wrestle these two to the ground, chop off the bottom seven inches of their beards and fire them into space.

I highly doubt there is much of humanity worth documenting that hasn’t been captured in those masses of hair during in the forty-six years ZZ Top have been operating.

 

What it feels like for a girl

 
The is the most glorious and realistic representation of what it feels like to be a sixteen-year-old girl with friends that I’ve ever seen in a movie.

The film is Céline Sciamma’s Girlhood. The actors were cast from street auditions.

You need to watch it immediately. If not before.

Mad Max: Fury Road (AKA Wacky Races for the Xbox Generation)

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Tom Hardy has got a hand fork stuck to his face.

I realise it’s been an awfully long time since I’ve been to the cinema to see a mainstream action film (yes, I’m a movie snob, but in my defence I have ‘fessed up to that particular corner of wankery in previous posts) and I fully expected to have missed some developments, but seriously.

Is this a thing now?

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