Ricky Gervais Meets.....His Own Ego ?

It's about time someone said this, Ricky Gervais is getting too big for his boots. Anyone would think he's a reincarnation of Peter Sellers the way people carry on, but he's not. He is in fact a one trick pony who cannot act, and can only really play one comic character. His writing is pretty sharp, although how much of that is attributable to his co-writer Stephen Merchant is an interesting question. The Office was a very good show, but let's face it in comparison Extras is lightweight stuff. The first series had some moments almost on a par with The Office, but series 2 was mainly self indulgent celebrity watching.

But yet, Mr. Gervais feels able to do a chat show where he meets some of the biggest comedic names in the world, and then proceeds to sit around chatting with them as if he's their equal. He will frequently drop in some anecdote about making The Office to the likes of say, Garry Shandling, who will smile politely and pretend to care. The smugness of the man is starting to grate, and his so-called friends like Christopher Guest are rather dull. It only goes to show that talking about comedy is a great deal less interesting than watching it. What next 'Ricky Gervais Meets...The ghost of Chaplin and points out where he went wrong' ? Before you put yourself in that league Ricky, you need a proper career first, not just an endless recycling of David Brent masquerading as one.

And a Happy Christmas

Okay I'll be honest here. I don't really care for Christmas a lot.

When I was a child however I was virtually obsessed with it, for months in advance. These days however it almost seems an annoying distraction from getting on with my life. Everything closes down for a week and I am absolutely compelled to spend a great deal of money on very little indeed.

But in any event I understand that for many people Christmas is a time to look forward to so I hope you all get something out of it. For me that's really just a rest from work, but that'll do.

Got enough christmas cards yet ?

I have, in fact I think I have about 50 so far. And I'm pretty sure that I'll reply to about 3 of them, and that's if I can find some unused cards from last year in the bottom of the decorations box. Now I'm not being ungrateful, but you see I work in an office. And my office is populated by lots of nice people who clearly have a tad too much time on their hands in the evenings. After all, at least 50% of the cards are from people whose names I don't recognise. This means that when I fail to recognise them around the office and thus fail to thank them for their lovely cards, I'll be shunned by popular society.

Let's face it, most of us groan with the arrival of every card, because it means that there's another person we have to reply to. And there's nothing more annoying than that last minute arrival, just minutes before close of business on that last day, from someone you haven't given one to !

So, my policy, is to be selective, and give cards to people that I;

1. Know

and

2. Like.

This also narrows down the volume I need to send to a mere handful, meaning that I can write humorous messages inside that no doubt cause the splitting of several sides. And anyway, any personal slights are long forgotten by the time you all come back to work on January the 2nd so who really gives a flying fuck ?

Poor taste jokes are crap, okay ?

The other day at work someone showed me a text that he was chuckling over mightily. I can't remember the exact wording of this gem, but effectively it made a very poor taste joke about the current murders going on in the Ipswich area. What was even more concerning was how many other people took great delight in showing me the same joke throughout the day, and then stood grinning expectantly at me waiting for me to fall about on the floor. When I looked at them all blankly without even the trace of a smile, I think they were nonplussed, but they simply moved onto the next person and showed it to them with the same fixed grin.

It seems that whenever there is a tragedy of some type, there follow a number of bad taste jokes about it, passed around offices furtively like comedic porn. And I've never yet understood why anyone would laugh at this shit. Merely because the so-called joke references a death or accident in an irreverent way does not great comedy make. I don't really think there's anything amusing about the deaths of 5 women, or for that matter a train crash or road accident. I'm also one of those people who never laughed when Greg Louganis hit his head on a diving board and nearly killed himself. Apparently for many this was the funniest thing that ever happened. Quite why I can't say.

I suppose I dislike these types of jokes because they're cruel and heartless, and they take delight in laughing at rather than with people. In truth a lot of modern comedy falls into this category. Things like Borat and Ali G leave me stone cold, but apparently people are splitting their sides over them. I'd like to split their heads instead. And I suspect many people feel the same but also feel a little bit of peer pressure about the issue. You don't want to look like the odd one out at the office right ? But if your office is populated by cretins, what then ?

So the next time someone sends you a text or e-mail about some disaster, please don't laugh falsely at it and say 'yeah that's brilliant', please be honest and say 'I find that offensive and unfunny. Please take your text and shove it up your arse. YOU....AREN'T......FUNNY !!! Now fuck off back to accounts, shut your mouth and get on with your job!".

Nothing in Particular

A friend of mine has a blog at the following address : http://www.johnsoanes.blogspot.com/.

I'd recommend it, jolly good stuff. But there was a recent post on there about his inability to sit down and write his novel. A monthly target of 50,000 words turned into an actual score of 3,000. He made the comment that I can relate to that he fears he may be one of those people who intend to write, but who never really do so. I myself suffer from the same malady. Many times I've sat at a blank screen with a blinking cursor in front of me, and have been able to compose nothing to say. Well, at the very least, nothing that I could be bothered to say.

When I look at the output of Stephen King for instance, who churns out 1000 page novels as if it's easy, I look on in awe. I think if I spent the rest of my life writing a single story, I'd never even get near 1000 pages. And if I did it'd be deathly dull and very repetitive. And I guess that's why people like him are so damned clever, and so damned successful. It's a rare talent indeed that can produce interesting stuff sentence after sentence, and page after page. I will have to admit that I'm not one of those people. That'll explain all those rejections then. Ah.

But what I do have left out of this is the realisation that I can still enjoy the work of others. There are some dratted clever chaps out there. Yes, sometimes the glow of their genius makes me feel a little small, but more often than not I get swept up in their work and enjoy it totally. So, like billions of others, I expect I'm a better audience than performer, but at least I have the perception to enjoy good stuff when I see it, if not actually produce it myself. Could be worse I guess, I could think 'Heat' was a worthwhile magazine, could be planning a tattoo, and might refer to my partner as 'babe' every thirty seconds. So at least my IQ has crawled above 100.

Are They All Mad ?

I've just been into the city centre where I live, and have had to hack my way through the crowds with a machete. There must be 3-4 times the number of people you would normally see on a Saturday afternoon, and they are ALL wandering around aimlessly, arguing with each other, not looking where they are going and generally getting on my cocking nerves. What is odder still is to see a queue in HMV which stretches the whole length of the shop. Now, my question is this.....

Have these morons never heard of the internet ? Not only is the net hugely cheaper than the shops, but there's no queueing. For years now I have done all my Xmas shopping online, and I just relax as the parcels roll in, and my anxieties fade away. Never a problem, I just click a few things with my mouse and go about my day. Is there a real reason why so many people can't do the same thing ? It's not pleasurable in any way to be trudging around the city like a sardine in a tin, shouting at your children, bitching to your wife and contemplating suicide when you can't find a parking space.

Ah the joys of Christmas. Still, if people are so braindead that they treat this time of the year as a joyless and soulless procession of buying, eating and most of all drinking, then I've got no sympathy for them. For them Christmas is probably a nightmare. I myself will be staying in, drinking in extreme moderation, and looking forward to May and the sunshine. And you can stick your baubles up your arse.

The Shining (Novel)

To start off I shall lay two sets of cards on the baize covered table in front of me. One will tell you that the film version of The Shining has long been my favourite horror film. The second will explain that I'm only into 100 pages into the novel that the film is based on. And yet I'm sodding impressed with it. Stephen King is a writer who until 2-3 years ago, I'd never read a word of. And yet since I discovered him, I've been mesmerised by his books. All 7 Dark Tower books, Salem's Lot, Dark Half and The Dead Zone have all been fantastic. But The Shining so far is in a league of its own. Why so good ? Simple, it's fricking scary. This baby is putting shivers down my spine as I read. I, like the little boy in the book, daren't look round the next corner. And that takes an enormous amount of skill. The boy King has it. And the best thing is I've got 400 pages to go. I feel like I'm settling into a hot literary bath, and I'm savouring every page. Nice.