James’ Poor Brain

I had this idea whilst I was bored at my boring job. Ever been browsing over a website/forum of something you’re into (Band, book series, TV show etc.) when you sudeenly stumble upon a section entitled “Creativity” or something to that effect? If you have, it almost definately contained the scourge of the written word - Fan Fiction.

I found quite a lot from some links off Uncyclopedia (it still makes me laugh). Theres a reason the original writers of any given show/book didn’t include a certain storyline/scenario/romantic relationship - its because it would have made it shit. So what the writers of this stuff (supposedly “fans”) are doing is butchering their favourite established universe with their own writings. Can’t be much of a fan then, really. REAL writers write what makes a good story - fan fiction writers write what they and only they want to hear.

But wait, there’s more! Rather than leaving the writing to those who are paid to do it, largely because they have actual skill, ANYONE can write fan fiction, regardless of their obvious lack of writing talent. They don’t even make up thier own characters, locations, themes…they just take it all from the original writer and copy and paste into their own scribblings. But of course, if they were good enough to make up their own characters, they’d probably write more than two pages per installment.

Which they don’t.

But these shortcomings seem insignificant when compared with my main gripe - SLASH.

I hate slash. Making a character (or, most of the time, characters) suddenly turn gay/lesbian/pansexual isn’t a genius stroke of creative license - its stupid. Characters are of a certain sexuality because it relates to their personality (IN FICTION ONLY - LEAVE ALL POORLY-THOUGHT-OUT “HOMOPHOBE!!” COMMENTS AT THE DOOR, FOOLS). Don’t deny it, when have you last seen a hard-as-nails army commander batting for both sides? But its not as bad as when characters are PROVEN to be straight (I’m going to use, umm, let me see…Harry Potter? Yeah, he’ll do as an example) and yet overzealous fans continue to place them in embarrasingly homoerotic scene. Why, thats a great idea! Combine inexplicable changes to a character with the hardest fiction genre to get right - erotic fiction!

Harry touched Draco’s skin as he felt his wand harden… 

I can’t go on, it’s so hilariously stupid. Who reads this stuff? Paedophiles? No-one likes paedophiles, why write fiction for them?

In the 3 years or so I’ve had proper access to the internet, I’ve found one good piece of fan fiction, entitled ‘18th Century Muse’, and was basically about three chaps with the same names as the members of Muse in 18th century Britain. Very Casanova, but I stopped bothering to read after the site it was hosted on changed, so it can’t have been that good. But I didn’t immediately dismiss it for the following reasons:

- It DIDN’T just copy existing characters. As well as two prominent, entirely fictional female leads, Matt, Chris and Dom all had unique personalities and backgrounds (they weren’t even in a band together).

- The DID have a unique storyline and setting, ie. Muse didn’t just go on holiday and start humping each other.

- It DID have a decent length. Most fan fiction I’ve inflicted on myself lasted seldom over a page. This one was at least 30 pages long when I stopped reading it, andthe end was hardly in sight.

Conclusion - if you want to write fiction, take an English class. Do a Creative Writing course or something. Then maybe you can learn to make up your own material, rather than stealing stuff from established writers and throwing in the word “ample” every now and then.

Fact: The only people who can make politics interesting are Ian Hislop and Paul Merton. Everyone else will just talk about some little insignificant occurance and then either a) tell people its the best thing to happen in politics ever or b)Rip it to metaphorical shreds and accuse the people who came up with it of some kind of improbable smear campaign against them. Neither of these will make me care about the fact that taxes were lowered by 4p.

Holy shit! FOUR WHOLE PENCE!? Pah. Even if I paid taxes on my shitty paying job, you know how long I’d have to work to make 4P? Little over six seconds. But at least I could spend my 4p on something else, say, four of those little banana sweets from Pick and Mix.

I’d rather talk to my Nan about sex than have a political debate. Unless the person you’re talking to agrees with everything you say, there’s a 99.99998% chance they’ll take personal offence and end up not talking to you for the rest of the week, just because you said something like “I don’t agree with abortion”. What you thought was a casual throwaway comment ends up alienting you from your over-enthusiastic friends. Am I a bad person for having opposing opinions to you? No, so CALM THE FUCK DOWN, ITS NOT A BIG DEAL. Especially when you’re sixteen and you can’t even vote. Arguments cause dislike, intolerance and divorce. Why would people seek them out?

I hate being drawn into political “debates” I don’t care about. I hate people who make out the media to be evil and are “covering up” things that either didn’t happen or did but is not a big deal to 95% of the population. I hate the right wing people who say stupid things like “computer games cause MURDER!!1!SINEOVERTAN!! I hate the left wing people who convinently ignore a certain Mr. Mao when raving about how great they are and talk shit about “revoloutions” that will never/don’t need to happen, or would chicken out if they did. I hate politics.

I found a really cool blog the other day that had those little box-type bits that had little quotes from the post in them but I can’t find it any more and its SO FRIKKIN FRUSTRATING!!!!

But at least my nine-hour shift at work is over. 

If you’ve read my post about Germany banning Tom cruise (see below) then you’ll know I harbour a dislike of the guy who plays Sean in Coronation Street. Well, according to BBC News, he’s getting his own talk show on ITV.

Oh dear. I can imagine it now.

Annoying berk: So, (insert C-list celebrity guest here), I see you have a new I’M SO GAY film coming out and I thought I’M SO GAY we could talk about it for a I’M SO GAY while.

Bemused guest: Uhhh…

Bloody hell. If he flames any more he’ll set the stage on fire. 

During my year and six months as a myspace user, I’ve sifted through some real crap. Profiles which you can’t see half of (due to excessive pimping), the word ‘pimping’ as a word for ‘making your page look like a rainbow covered in glitter exploded, with no survivors’, and, worst of all, Fact Cow. If this person tries to add you, RUN AWAY.

But this made my blood boil. Not only was it a chain bulletin - already rashes on Myspace’s backside -  but it started with the phrase “What’s your mental illness?” Having any desire whatsoever to read the rest, evidently.

Seriously, this is one of the most fucked-up thigs I’ve ever read. You have to tick boxes that apply to you under categories like ‘Anorexia’ and ‘Schizophrenia’ and, if you tick more than a few, you obviously have this illness. Without knowing beforehand, obviously. Ignoring the fact that this was probably made up by someone who failed their Science KS3 SAT test, the tickable options here are ridiculous. Do you eat fast? Whoops! You have bulimia! Do you like to stay out all night? Ah, a classic case of Conduct Disorder!

Not likely, limp-dick!

I don’t even want to get started on the more serious options. Case in point:

[ ] you have raped/molested someone.

Way to go, chump change! You’ve created the world’s stupidest bulletin. Like anybody will admit to rape on an internet community with millions of users. And what right do you have to tell people ‘hope is no longer there’ for them? You fucker.

Whats worse is that fact that whoever wrote this (ie. Chump Change) seems to think they can diagnose serious and life-threatening illnesses with this douche. I don’t know that much about it, but I’m guessing it takes a little more than ticking boxes saying ‘you have used alcohol, drugs, or had sex’ or ‘you are very irritable’ in order to correctly diagnose someone with an illness as horrendous as bi-polar disorder. Jackass.

On the other hand, maybe I’m being too harsh. Its just trying to help kids with their problems right? In fact, I’ve created a couple more to help the cause:

PSYCHOSIS

[] You don’t like somebody you know.

[] you once kicked a ball, like, REALLY hard.

[] You watch CSI.

[] You have beady eyes and a sinister beard.

MENTALLY RETARDED

[] You don’t know how to build a nuclear fusion reactor

[] You have a job that pays less than £20,000 a year.

[] You got a B in more than one of your GCSEs

[] You make bulletins like this without using sarcasm, you big stupid cockshiner.

Gladly, I don’t seem to be the only one who senses the utter retardness (its a word, really) of this bulletin, and it doesn’t seem to be taken seriously. But what if someone did? What if soemone who has just had a bad day and is in a bad mood ends up ticking all the emo-drenched options for ‘Depression’ and ends up on pills?

Arrgh! Stupid bulletins. At least its not as bad as ones which consist of a single word, usually ‘SAFE’ or ‘BRAH’. *cough*could you be more blocked*cough*

What do you mean, no hardware is recognised? Its right there! Connected with a USB, in the right holes, on the right settings, plugged into you, you stupid pile of microchips!  ITS RIGHT THERE! I CAN SEE IT! LOOK, I’LL POKE IT! I CAN FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL IT, MOTHER F***%r(&^^(^&***^&*!!!!!!!

It is an ex-camera. 

Check this out - a big, multi-purpose, all-knowing blog entry that covers almost all aspects of my recent life!

Muse at Wembley is only a month and a half away- this dawned on me whilst I was filling in my calender, and I nearly fell backwards with a double whammy of surprise and excitement. Bring it on.

Chemistry makes me feel like a fish, who has somehow flopped out of the water and is now gasping for non-existant breath on the riverbank. An autistic fish, in fact. Its the only exam I’m REALLy worried about.

We’ve had two applicants for the lead guitar position- one of them is good but can’t start until late June, and the other is pretty good and can start now but none of my friends like him.

Speaking of HCTR, SPREAD THE WORD -  12BAR, 3rd MAY. GO GO GO, TELL TELL TELL!

I’ve been listening to Billy Tallent II. Its good, but somewhat lacking in accessability. 8/10.

 I have a new favourite advert - a footballer falls down, apparently faking some kind of collossal hernia, when a giant tank rolls onto the pitch and points it turret at him. Mr T pops out, calls hima fool and throws a Snickers bar at him. Genius.

Hilary!

*slowly breaks down* 

I haveyet another ulcer. I’m like a walking advert for the damn things.

But I have Bonjela (not teething gel either, the proper kind) so its all adequate.

Urgh. In a strange reverse of stereotypes, the only person telling me to get off my ass and into a nametag is me. No-one, not even my mother, seems to be very bothered about me earning some keep.

I’d love a job. It would be hard to get there, I’d have little free time and I’d probably have to communicate with people I don’t know but I’d love the feeling that, when my payslip arrives (it’ll be tiny, but whatever), its MY money. Not my mums which she has given to me each first of the month. Mine. And I’m guessing the satisfaction of doing some hard graft for it is good also.

This happens to me already, thanks to my (in the words of my CV) “Distribution Agent” services. However, what I recieve for my 3-odd hours a week isn’t even enough for a couple of Diet Coke six-packs. Plus, I loathe “distributing” newspapers so much, what with the cold, rain, dogs, council house brats, long walks and near-constant risk of being mown down by a car. All this combines to make my weekly letter-opening a grumpy “hmpf, FINALLY” rather than a “Woohoo! Ker-ching!”.

Sadly, places that will employ a shaggy sixteen-year old with 2 GCSEs, a week of work experience and appalling social skills are few and far between. And by that I mean, “don’t exist, nor will ever exist”. Sigh.