Saturday, 26 February 2011


Prince was a set of aesthetic principles laid out in 1876 by M Bistro et Jean-Pierre Canard as a reaction to contemporary design. They were:

1. 3"

2. 4"

3. [Verboten)

4. Wash thoroughly with warm, soapy water

5. Steady... steady...

8. Cream finely

2. Serve, and eat

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

The Neptunes

Oh, for fuck's sake. Does anyone have a number for a 24-hour locksmith? The Neptunes have left their keys in the pub again.

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Slavoj Žižek

Dermot O'Leary on Slavoj Žižek

I first met Slavoj in juvie. We must have been about 15. The boys were all a bit frightened of him because of his fearsome reputation. The story was that he'd been sent there for swearing at a bus driver. Clearly, he was not someone to be trifled with.

Of course, it was all nonsense. I discovered the truth one afternoon when I happened upon him crying in his cell, having lost his balloon. I took pity on him, let him play with mine for a while, and we soon got chatting. It turned out that he was actually there for weeing in the bath. But Slavoj was happy to let the rumours go unchallenged, and since we became firm friends, so was I.

Most Borstal boys in those days would pursue careers in showbusiness when they re-entered society, so we decided to do the same, start a double-act, which involved Slavoj reading a selection of stories from the week's news while I removed an item of clothing every time the IMF was mentioned. We weren't very good, to be honest. You see, the beat combo EMF were quite popular at the time, and I kept getting confused. I lost count of all the times we were booed off for my premature nakedness. British audiences simply won't stand for nudity without artistic justification.

After about five years of this, I finally decided it was time to give up and get a proper job. Slavoj was clearly a very talented young man, and I felt I was holding him back. That was when I went into retail, and the rest is history there. Meanwhile, without me to carry, Slavoj's career really started to take off.

His big break came in '76, when he managed to get a slot on what was easily the most popular and influential variety programme on television at the time, Michael Aspel's It's Showbiz, You Cunt. In those days, everyone who was anyone in entertainment came up through that show: Peter Sissons, Delia Derbyshire, Hugh Orde. Everyone watched it, and it just so happened the ratings were particularly high that week. You may remember the previous show had ended in rather a nasty fight, with Derek Jacobi losing several fingers. So millions of people had tuned in hoping it would happen again.

It didn't, of course. But they didn't come away disappointed because they got to see Slavoj's now classic Stupid Wolf sketch. Hahaha! "This wolf is an idiot!" Bloody marvellous!

By the following day his name was on everyone's lips all over the country, and from there it took just two short years for him to establish himself as one of Europe's preeminent critical theorists.

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Prefuse 73

prefuse73 wrote at 04:43 on 16th June 2004:


Monday, 14 February 2011

Basement Jaxx

Basement Jaxx once produced a song so quiet, you'll only hear it when all other life on earth has been extinguished.

Tuesday, 8 February 2011


"Every so often, there is a moment in our culture that defines our times so that it becomes part of our shared heritage.

"Who could forget, for example, when The Culture Show went wrong? It was during a segment about the Pixies that things took a turn for the primal. Exactly why, no-one will say, although several crew members present at the time have suggested that Paul Morley was secreting an unusual pheromone that night.

"And it was such an extraordinary thing, so jarring... We were bucked so suddenly, so violently from our saddle of complacency that this shocking series of events unfolding on our screens scarcely registered with a single one of us until it was so undeniable, so utterly irrefutable that it invaded our world, our world of science and reason, filled it, every square inch of it, enveloped us, the warm amniotic fluid of madness, and we howled, with wild abandon we howled, flung back the curtains, opened the windows and bayed at the moon like crabs...

"And we all remember the point of realisation, the moment at which we were each jolted back to our senses, when the animal faded away and the human regained control and we looked at that screen and suddenly everything was thrown into relief, our transgressions laid bare, like a shit on an open Bible. The last thing we saw before transmission was finally cut: Lauren Laverne filling the screen - dishevelled, hair like a... like a... fucking... pube explosion or something... and her eyes bereft of humanity - dreadful inky pools of pure, vacant nature, they were - and she'd popped up in front of the camera, holding in her right hand, like a trophy, the head of Mark Kermode... dripping blood, spinal column thrashing wildly, eyes rolled up into his head so that only the whites were visible, his face twisted almost beyond recognition, and he looked as if he was screaming for all the pain that was ever felt. Cut. Roll credits.

"Fucking wonderful television. I pissed my cock off laughing."

Alan Yentob was talking to Decca Aitkenhead

Saturday, 5 February 2011


When, weary and drunk, you stagger home from a tearful forgetment session down the pub, then fall heavily on to your bed in your dark, grimy flat, unsettling the soft bachelor dust which leaps into the air, dancing in a grotesque mockery of your torment before slowly fluttering earthwards to cover and finally suffocate you, your last gasps punctuated by plaintive sobs...

that's Super_Collider.

Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath iz eatin ice cream an watchin spy kids on telly loolz!!!! ;p