Talkin' 'Bout Regeneration

Welcome back from the hell of Christmas. We now have the hell of New Year to look forward to.

Actually, I had a great Christmas. Thanks for asking. I had a great time with my wife and kids, didn't get drunk, and plenty of presents all round. My wife bought me two Transformers t-shirts (one for each faction), a set of colognes, Call of Duty 4 on the PS3 (the old one, which I used to have), season one of Star Trek: The Original Series on Blu Ray, a bust of Shockwave (see below), and Marvel Chronicles (a huge book-in-a-box, charting the history of the company from the late thirties to present-ish day).

The Marvel book prompted me to do something I've had in mind for years, and get my web comic made, so thank you, Helen, you continue to inspire me. I've had the characters and situations in place for the best part of half a decade, so finally, in 2010, you'll get to meet the Destinauts. Click the picture on the top right to go to the site.

What will 2010 bring us? Lots of crap, no doubt. Arthur C Clarke's novel would have us believe that those pesky Monoliths will convert Jupiter into a second star in the solar system, which humans will name "Lucifer". So we've got that to look forward to. Closer to home, the very first day of the year will bring the Russell T Davies (and David Tennant, for that matter) era of Doctor Who to an end, clearing the way for Steven Moffat to bring some order to the proceedings again, with Matt Smith in the title role. We've been promised a more professorial Doctor, a quieter, more thoughtful incarnation. This is great news; as much as I enjoy Tennant in the role, his shouty Doctor can grate at times, but this has something to do with RTD himself.

Davies has a lot of detractors, but has he done harm or good to the show? Firstly, he has to be congratulated for bringing it back in the first place. Being a high-profile writer who was a fan of the show, kudos to him for using the resurrection of Doctor Who as a bargaining chip to work for the BBC. It is at a level of popularity it hasn't seen since the Tom Baker era. So, two Doctors in, what are the pros and cons?

Firstly, he chose two great leading men for the role. Christopher Eccleston brought a whole new quality to the part, and the more I watch his episodes back, the more I wish he'd made more. If only parts of fandom weren't baying for his blood the very day that Rose was broadcast (when it was announced he was leaving after the first series), he might have been persuaded back one day to finally show the McGann/Eccleston regeneration, instead of being Destro in GI Joe. Everyone has to eat, I suppose. Speaking of Rose, he partially used the template of Ace, which was a good thing, but he over-used her. Davies seemed to believe that we were in awe and love with Rose Tyler as much as he was. Back in the day, a companion left, and that was it. Aside from the multi-Doctor stories (which Davies hates), where old companions would appear with 'their' Doctor, once a companion left, the Doctor moved on, and ended up with another. She left the series at the end of the second year, but has been brought back several times since. Plus, the Doctor's in love with her. Sigh. I'd be glad to see the back of the chipmunk, to be honest, but I'm not a Time Lord. Captain Jack, the Ninth Doctor and Rose in the Tardis was a nice dynamic. Shame it only lasted for 3 episodes.

With Rose, he brought a family. Actually, this wasn't a bad thing. It was different for Doctor Who, having the companion's family to return to every so often (though the cross-time mobile phone thing was a rubbish device of convenience), with some nice character development for Mickey and Jackie. When he joined the Tardis crew, I didn't want Mickey to leave. It seemed that whenever anything good happened, it was swiftly taken away, and what was once good (or never was) was regurgitated ad nauseum. Martha Jones was brought in, another companion in love with the Doctor. Yawn. Freema Agyeman's acting ability left something to be desired. Like an acting ability. Making a bloody medical student a high-ranking UNIT official is ludicrous. What message is that for the youngsters? Leave your studies, be an annoying shit, and reap the rewards? Watching Captain Jack saluting her and his Torchwood cronies having to obey her was sickening.

Yes, Torchwood. He was responsible for that, which really hit its stride in its second series, only to kill off two of the best characters (and the other good character in the third), leaving the annoying one in place. But still, I love the show. Plus, Sarah Jane Adventures. Well done, Mr Davies. It's a great show, and wasted on kids. It's closer to 'classic' Doctor Who than Doctor Who is.

Sarah Jane... bringing her back was a master stroke. It's one thing that showed that he was a proper fan, and understood Doctor Who. Getting the concept of regeneration wrong is one strike against. Now, Time Lords can choose whether to regenerate or not, and they do it whilst stood up, arms akimbo, not dead on the floor like in the old days. WRONG. In The End of Time part 1, the Doctor told Wilf that if he dies before he can regenerate, that's it. So, what happened to the Third, Fourth, Fifth and Seventh Doctors, then? Bah.

The Daleks and Cybermen were vastly overused. Back in the old days, their appearances were sparse and eventful. Now, if a Dalek appears, it's not a shock. On the one hand, he popularised Daleks again. On the other, he neutered them. He brought the Cybermen back. Brilliant. But... they're not the 'proper' Cybermen. They're branded with a big copyright symbol on their chests, and are catchphrase-spouting drones. There was an hierarchy with the Mondasian Cybermen, and there were vast hints that they retained their human personalities. They didn't spout "delete" every two minutes. The most catchphrasey they got was the Cyber Leader saying "excellent". So, two of the Doctor's biggest enemies, wasted. The whole of the third series was brilliant (apart from Martha Jones), leading up to the return of the Master. Utopia was a fantastic episode, and Sir Derek Jacobi was a sublime Master. The few lines of dialogue he had once Professor Yana reverted to him reminded me of Roger Delgado. High praise indeed. Then, he regenerated into John Simm. I like John Simm, but I'm not keen on his portrayal of the Master. I think I just miss the Holmes/Moriarty dynamic of Pertwee and Delgado.

Just when it seemed he couldn't perfect companions, he brought in Donna Noble. Brilliant (aside from that Christmas one). Plus, she wasn't in love with the Doctor. This was brilliant if not only for bringing Bernard Cribbins into canonical Doctor Who. Turn Left was a truly fantastic episode. When he tries to write an episode without ticking boxes off of a checklist, he can pull some wonderful stories out of his arse. However, he is responsible for some of the worst deus-ex-machina reset-button endings I've ever seen. The Tardis towing Earth across space? The Tardis reversing time so that the Master's year of tyranny never happened? All bollocks.

He has an obsession with certain real-life authority figures, which may not be completely in agreement with the audience. That cringe-worthy moment in the cringe-worthy Voyage of the Damned, where the Queen waves at the Titanic, saying "thank you, Doctor". Christ, the worst parasite the Doctor's ever faced. Who wants to see her? Nobody likes the monarchy, Russell. Then, he brought a badly-portrayed Barack Obama into The End of Time part 1. "President Obama's making an announcement on TV tonight! He's got a solution to save the world!" or somesuch bollocks. All I could do was carry on cringing.

It sounds like I'm being completely negative about Russell T Davies, which isn't fair. He's a genuinely lovely bloke. I met him several times in my old job, and he always took the time out to talk to me. He's bloody tall, too. In terms of the show itself, we have a lot to thank him for. The overall look of the show, brilliant. Would have loved to have had the Doctor's face in the opening titles like the Second Doctor's through to the Seventh Doctor's eras, as I believe it emphasises the spookiness and alien aspect surrounding the character, but that's just me. Despite crediting Christopher Eccleston as playing "Doctor Who" (something that the other fanboy, David Tennant, made sure was corrected when he got the part), he does know his stuff, and what makes it good, but unfortunately also knows what makes it popular, so overuse of certain things in place of others. He did bring on board some excellent writers, most of whom have been responsible for the best episodes of New Who; Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, Paul Cornell, all wonderful. He kept the theme tune, kept the Tardis as a police box, carried it on from the old continuity, and reined in certain things that any other fan would have flooded it with. Despite his love of the show, he didn't push it. He dropped in occasional things like the Macra, the Time War was a great device (if a little overused in the end), he held off on mentioning Gallifrey until the second Christmas special (he knows how to work the fans, you have to give him that), the Time Lords making a fleeting appearance in flashback only (with robes faithful to 1976's The Deadly Assassin)... Overall, I still love the show. As a fan, I find some things a little tiresome, whereas maybe two years ago, I defended it all with terminal intensity. Perhaps it's David Tennant's 75 appearances across the BBC at Christmas which has cemented it for me, but I can't wait for him to regenerate now. Name-drop alert: I've met him too. A few days before Christopher Eccleston regenerated, Mr Tennant was in my shop, and nobody knew him. He was lovely, and signed a birthday card for my son. He spent the time speaking, like RTD did, and was a genuinely great bloke, shaking my hand, and thanking me for showing interest in his work, absolutely no trace of ego. Through Doctor Who being filmed in Cardiff, I've also met Mark Gatiss (spent half an hour personal shopping for him), Jessica Hynes/Stephenson, Eve Myles, and nearly met the one who played Ianto. But he walked out of my shop looking bemused. Ah well. So yes, I thank RTD for making sure it's filmed in Cardiff, because, as a fan, it's been a whole new level for me.

I've moaned a lot about it, but it's still recognisably Doctor Who. He's updated it, made it something 'the kids' talk about again, and succeeded in making a family show for Saturday nights that isn't light entertainment rubbish. Its faults are ones that are perhaps only ones perceived by sad old fans like me; another fan in charge may well have killed it stone dead with an over-reliance on continuity, making it one long fanfic. But, it is fresh, vital and very much alive. We now have another fan in charge, and one who wrote the brilliant The Empty Child and Blink. Hopefully, finally, we'll see a line drawn under the Time War arc, the Time Lords and Gallifrey will be back, the Daleks will make an appearance every couple or few years, the original Cybermen will come back, the sonic screwdriver will blow up, and the Doctor will have a companion that doesn't want to shag him.

I'll never forgive him for changing what UNIT stands for and for bringing in farting aliens, but you can't have everything.

So, a very Happy New Year to you all, have a great time and stay safe. I'll be back in a few days, in 2010: the most sci-fi year since 2001. See you next year.

A Christmas Arsehole

As he marched proudly around his extensive gardens, Ebenezer Edmonds saw the disgusting peasant folk in the putrid village at the foot of the imposing hill. He did not care that they were poor, diseased or miserable; he was used to living the life of a king here in Crinkly Bottom. Opening his heavy oak front door, he slammed it shut behind him, teetering comedy stacks of gold coins scattering noisily to the stone floor.

As he decanted the port, there was a knock at the door. Opening it reluctantly, he was sickened by the sight that greeted him. Carol singers, some of whom were old enough to know better, flanked by snot-nosed guttersnipes. They grabbed Silent Night by the throat, before kicking it mercilessly and finally murdering it. Once the dirge had ceased, a small, dirt-smudged child propped up on a single crutch held out a hat, containing all of 5 pence and a couple of mismatched buttons. Ebenezer scoffed, knocked the hat from his trembling fingers, and reached for his oversized cordless telephone, a keepsake from his Swap Shop days. "Get off of my property," he snarled calmly, "before I call the police." The group trudged away, dejected, and he once more slammed his expensive portal shut behind him.

That night, he made his way to his bedroom, adorned in his antique Victorian dressing gown, clutching his golden oil lamp, reflecting brilliantly in his genuine Rolex. His four-poster bed was a welcome, but lonely sight. Getting comfortable, he was woken by a rustling noise. Shocked, about to press his panic button which would summon twenty armed riot police officers, a small, glowing, bearded figure emerged from behind a curtain. "Who... who are you?" he stuttered to the transparent visitor. The large, obviously fake beard was pulled away, revealing a familiar face. "Jacob? Jacob Beadle?" he winced. "But you're dead!"

"Ahhh," said the spirit. "You thought I was dead! But... well, yes. Yes I am." He coughed, needlessly. "Anyway, I'm just here to tell you that you're going to be visited by three spirits this very night."

"So, another two, then?" asked Ebenezer.

Jacob sighed, and explained further.

"You're no spirit! You're an hallucination! An hallucination in a false beard! You're nought but an out-of-date slurp of milk, or a crumb of undigested cheese, a dream that's most unwelcome!"

"Nah," dismissed the entity, "I'm the real deal. Bad luck."

"But why me? Why are they visiting? Why can't they just leave me alone?"

"Because you're a bastard, Ebenezer. Everybody knows it. My friends are going to be teaching you a lesson, because you sorely bloody need it."

With a pantomimic gust of wind and a flash-bang for added effect, he was gone.

Ebenezer snorted. "Bollocks," he thought, and fell asleep.

Soon enough, he was woken by a chilling breeze. Stood at the foot of his bed was the first of the visitors. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," he said.

"You're Mike Smith," replied a bemused Ebenezer.

"Right, enough exposition, I'm here to show you the past, and where you may have gone wrong."

Ebenezer was led outside to a ghostly helicopter. "You do know how to fly this thing?" he asked nervously. The ghost just laughed. Within moments, they were outside the BBC studios, its italicised logo of yore hanging proudly from the building.

"This, Ebenezer, is Christmas Day, 1988." He led him to a festively-decorated studio. "Recognise him?" The ghost indicated a happy-looking man in a very bright woolly jumper, addressing the camera cheerfully.

"That's me! Look how young I am!"

"And happy. Don't forget happy."

"Yes, yes, yes."

"You're voluntarily giving your Christmas morning to broadcast to a nation of adoring children, spreading cheer and joy with every word, something you did for fifteen years."

Ebenezer nodded wanly.

"I will now show you where it all went wrong." With a click of his transparent fingers, the scenery changed. They were suddenly in a replica of his living room, looked upon by a studio audience. "This is 1999, and your, ahem, House Party." A large pink-costumed man Blobby-Blobbied through them harmlessly, and there was Ebenezer, slightly older, but the joy had gone. "This is the very moment you changed. This is the very moment you started hating people."

It was true; Ebenezer could see it in his younger self's eyes. He had made so much money, he wanted to have the time to spend it, and began resenting the people who adored him so. A tear in his eye, he was suddenly back in his bedroom, and the ghost had gone.

Shaken by what he had experienced, he tried to sleep once more, but was interrupted by a second ghost, standing there smugly, trousers pulled up way too far.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," he drawled. "Let me show you the effects of your actions, you horrible little man."

"Where are you taking me, spirit?" moaned Ebenezer, as they descended the hill to the village. "It's cold and I'm tired."

"Shut up," charmed the ghost. The village was ramshackle, and crowds of hooded teenagers surrounded Spar, demanding that innocent passers-by go inside and buy them cigarettes. Finally, they reached a run-down house in the middle of a terrace. "This is the house of the carol-singing child you berated earlier."

Peering through the window, the boy shivered on the threadbare sofa, his mum and dad either side of him, trying to keep warm. "What's that they're watching on the telly?" asked Ebenezer. He squinted.

"That is X Factor," answered the ghost proudly. "Though I failed to get the song to number one, there's still blanket coverage across the airwaves. Since your decision to no longer provide festive cheer on Christmas morning, people have lost hope, and the true meaning of Christmas has gone, clearing the way for people like me to fill the gap." Ebenezer fogged up the window with his icy breath, feeling sorry for the miserable-faced family. "Merry Christmas," chortled the ghost, his chilling laughter echoing, as the surroundings blurred and shifted back to his bedroom once more, leaving him alone again.

As he struggled to sleep once more, a glow filled the room. There, at the foot of his bed, was a hooded figure. "And who might you be?" Silence. "The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, I imagine. Well, there's no need for you. I've learned my lesson."

The silent figure simply beckoned, and Ebenezer felt compelled to obey. Walking edgily towards the spirit, the spectre grabbed his arm, and their surroundings blurred and shifted once more.

Ebenezer found himself stood in a bleak graveyard, silhouettes of crumbling buildings lining the horizon. He could see crashed cars, blinking neon signs fizzling into nothingness against closed shops, shutters rattling in the wind. In the distance, a gang of hooded teenagers were terrorising an old lady. "Where are we? When are we?"

"The future. A future of your creation," growled the ghost at last.

"Me? What did I do?"

"You selfishly stayed away from television for many years, draining the message of Christmas from people's souls. Society has collapsed."

"No! I didn't cause this!" The ghost did not answer, placing a gloved hand on a gravestone. Ebenezer could not make out its epitaph. "Tell me what I must do to change it!" Still no answer. He walked angrily towards the ghost. "Answer me!" Through blurred vision, he finally saw the words on the gravestone:

HERE LIES

LIGHT ENTERTAINMENT

AND EBENEZER EDMONDS

MAY THEY FIND THE PEACE THEY

DEPRIVED OTHERS OF FOR SO

MANY YEARS

He tore the hood away from the figure, revealing a twisted version of his own visage. Ebenezer's mouth dropped wide open, and let loose a deathly scream. His doppelgänger laughed, as he pushed him into the open grave. Landing awkwardly with a sickening thump, the ghost began filling the grave with earth. Ebenezer's scream was muffled and silenced.

He woke with a start, brushing frantically at his hair and immaculate little beard. No earth. Had it all been a dream? It did not matter, for his heart was filled with joy, sickeningly happy at being alive and well. He had a duty.

Running from his house, still in his nightclothes, he saw the hoodies outside Spar, regular as clockwork. "What day is it?"

"It's Christmas, innit, you tosser," came the unbroken-voiced reply.

Ebenezer did a little dance, ran into the shop, and returned with a multi-pack of Benson & Hedges and a large bottle of White Lightning. He gladly gave the cigarettes and alcohol to the under-age hooligans.

"Fanks," said one.

"Fucking twat," said another.

Ebenezer did not care. He danced all the way home; it was time for a comeback. He collected his large cordless brick, and frantically dialled the BBC. Then ITV. Neither were interested. But, he was too happy still to be put off now. He rang Channel 4, and though it was too late to make a programme for Christmas Day, they instantly gave him The Random Box Game to host, and suggested he ring Sky One, to see if they may be interested in giving him a programme for Christmas Day next year.

He paused, and thought about his experiences from the night before. "Sky One?" he said, disappointed at the suggestion. Ah, well. It was a nice idea while it lasted. He hung up the phone, and went back to bed.

Festive Fun Facts

Think you know everything about Christmas? Think again! Here are Phifty* Phun Phestive Phacts Phor, um, you. It's a bit like one of those long bits of text you used to ignore in the Buster Annual.

* ish.

1. Since its inception in 1982, Chris's Mass has become more popular every year.
2. Father Christmas was a Catholic Priest. He eventually became Bishop Christmas. Bishop Christmas then became Cardinal Christmas. This is where Christmas Cards came from.
3. Santa knows when you've been naughty or nice, using CCTV, and by going through your bins.
4. Christmas spirit is pumped into the air from giant vents. Some people are allergic; they possess the 'humbug' gene.
5. Snow was invented as an alternative to fake snow.
6. What's the difference between male and female snowmen? Snowpenises.
7. Crackers were invented to seal away old Peter Kay jokes. The bang is the sound of God crying.
8. Dreaming of a white Christmas is your brain's way of telling you that you have only a week to live.
9. Coal and satsumas are no longer given as gifts, as the Tories killed satsuma mining in the 1980s.
10. Santa comes once a year. Santana does not.
11. Xmas was invented to fit around Noel Edmonds on the TV schedules.
12. Turkeys' famous "gobble, gobble" is merely the birds quoting J-Lo in Gigli.
13. Xmas presents were invented to stop bailiffs taking your stuff.
14. Even if Joe McWotsit reached no1, he'd still be a number two.
15. The term "Secret Santa" comes from John Santa, former MI5 agent who liked stalking people, leaving cheap gifts from a BP garage.
16. Father Christmas is Jesus's superhero secret identity. Noel Edmonds is Satan's form on Earth.
17. A traditional Xmas dinner represents the first meal eaten by the Baby Jesus. Blame him for the sprouts.
18. "Sprouts" comes from an ancient Celtic word meaning "Satan's gangrenous gonads".
19. "Mulled wine" is short for Mull of Kintyred Wine.
20. Coca Cola based their colour scheme on Father Christmas's outfit.
21. Bored of getting socks? Spare a thought for Heather Mills, inundated with stockings.
22. Santa based his look on Roy Wood from Wizzard.
23. If you see someone rocking around the Christmas tree, they may be having a reaction to the pine needles.
24. Eggnog is made from hedgehog residue and the tears of orphans.
25. When Shakin' Stevens declared "We're gonna have a party tonight", he was using the Royal "we".
26. You can get everything from "The 12 Days of Christmas" in Poundland.
27. Boxing Day was set up by Barry McGuigan and Frank Bruno using a Prince's Trust grant.
28. Figgy pudding is made from an endangered rodent species indigenous to Lapland. There are 50 specimens of Figgus norvegicus left.
29. The story of Jesus is based on the story of Patrick Kielty.
30. Baubles represent the time Santa crashed into a tree and was left hanging by his sac.
31. Don't have a chimney? Don't panic! Just leave your front door wide open. Santa will know what to do.
32. St Nick is not to be confused with Nicholas Lyndhurst, Nick Griffin or Nicholas Parsons. In fact, he's 80s comedian Nick Wilton.
33. Make sure to leave your PC on for e-Santa. He will come down your chimn-e, but be sure he doesn't get caught on a firewall.
34. The sixpence in an Xmas pud comes from when bank vaults were made of pudding.
35. Due to the Personal Space Act 1986 being repealed, kissing under the mistletoe is law, punishable by death if flouted.
36. Yellow snow is a delicacy in parts of Belgium. If you're told not to eat it, it's because they don't think you're good enough to.
37. Santa drinks 765, 000 gallons of sherry, but drinks the same amount of anti-sherry beforehand.
38. Cliff Richard is a bandwagon-jumping Satanist.
39. Rudolph's red nose is due to an accidental encounter with Kerry Katona's toilet seat.
40. Santa's outfit is made up of hundreds of robins, snared by a system of milk bottles and mini bear traps.
41. Frosty the Snowman is based on TV presenter David Frosty.
42. John Logie Baird was asked to invent the TV as a means of showing Xmas specials that were going to waste.
43. Santa has water retention.
44. Each year, the Met Office flip a coin to decide whether to have a white Christmas or not. Recently, they noticed it was double headed.
45. Noddy Holder's famous scream of "It's Christmaaas" was changed at the last minute. Originally, it was "It's not Christmaaas."
46. Santa's only weakness is Kryptonite.
47. Every 4 years is a "leap Christmas", with an extra Boxing Day.
48. When kids ask for a PS3, they're just being polite; they really want coal like all the cool kids.
49. Turkeys are eaten at Christmas, as they are Jesus's sworn enemies
50. Wrapping paper is made from the skin of old people.
51. Santa's catchphrase was slightly adjusted from "Ho, ho, prostitute" to fit more easily on cards.

More Christmas stuff. Christmas songs have always been a noble tradition, stretching back to 1875 when Benjamin Disraeli, only one year in power at this point, reached the top spot with Rockin' All Over The World At Christmas, long seen as a major influence on Status Quo. Some more modern Christmas songs had their lyrics reworked before release. Here are some examples:

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. The very next day, they turned off life support. This year, to save me from tears, I gave you my tear ducts.

Wham

Christmas time. Sour grapes and whine. X Factor songs have had their time.

Cliff Richard

Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat

Please spend a penny in the old man's hat

If you haven't got a penny, a ha'penny will do

If you haven't got a ha'penny, well, that's the fucking recession for you, isn't it?

Traditional nursery rhyme and carol

Jingle balls, jingle balls,

Jingle all the way,

Oh what fun it is to jingle

With your balls all day.

Traditional song written by James Lord Pierpont

So, there we have it. We didn't cover stuffing, wreaths or Christmas trees. Perhaps next year. Merry eczemas!

Festive Democracy

I have found my Christmas spirit. Thanks for asking. It came to me just before 7pm last night when Rage Against the Machine became the Christmas number 1. Whatever the reasons that people bought the single, it's a very unsubtle "fuck you" to Simon Cowell, ITV, Cheryl Cole and the whole complacency that they had the Christmas number 1 tied up and bound. I've seen a lot of people say that "they're on the same label, so Sony will profit anyway" and "Simon Cowell will have made more money due to people buying more copies of the X Factor single". Utter bollocks. It doesn't matter whether they did or not. He was always going to make money, as were Sony. Those people have missed the point. Having a bland, insipid ballad karaoke cover version at number 1 is not what those people wanted. The singles market is a mere fraction of what it used to be. 50,000 more people bought Killing in the Name than Joe McWotsit, most of whom wanted to make a point. The choice of song is largely irrelevant; it could have been any guitar-based song with a high tempo. The point is that music fans were reclaiming a once fine tradition, and it has set a precedent. Next year, perhaps The Pogues, Slade or Wizzard could get to number 1. Perhaps even The Darkness, who are the last people I remember actually attempting a proper Christmas song. I've also seen some people (famous ones at that) claim that it was cynical, mean-spirited and snobbish, and that people have mindlessly bought it, being likened to sheep. This is humbuggery of the highest order, and is a slight against the purchasers of said song, not to mention a sweeping generalisation. I bought it in protest against the complacency of bland pop. As I said, it could have been any song (within reason). I downloaded Killing in the Name not just because it was a real threat to Cowell's machinations, but also because it is a great song. If the alternative was something like the Spice Girls, I would not have bothered. I would probably have gone for a 'proper' Christmas song instead, but ah well. There's still time to get this to number 1 for the New Year:

Anyhoo, onto other stuff. This:

... has nearly ruined my Christmas. I am sick of the sight of Coleen fucking Nolan and her budget hors d'œuvre platters, sold to us on a wave of lowest common denominator variety show ITV fodder musical terror. One thing that baffles me slightly; they sacked Kerry Katona, yet hired Jason Donovan. They seem to have an obsession with former or current smackheads.

Do you know who else is getting on my tits this Christmas?

"He's always doing that!" chirrups Ant. Or Dec. I'm not going to analyse it too much. Suffice to say that these adverts fill me with bile and anger, as do its cheeky little fuckwits, the popular bastards. I'm now in the mood for watching a clip of Byker Grove. The one where PJ (or Duncan, I forget which) gets blinded by paint. I shall watch it over and over.

It has been a pretty poor year for ads, though. If there wasn't this:

...there was this:

Christ, I hate that man. He has a Wikipedia page about himself. I can only assume that he or his mum set it up. He is described as a 'comedian'. His influence is listed as Russell Brand. The other really annoying thing about these adverts (aside from, well, every fucker in them desperate for a bit of exposure on the telly at the cost of whatever little their souls fetched from Satan's coffers, and the fact that they are actually worse than the old patronising confused.com adverts, which I would never have believed possible until I saw this twat) is that nasally "tadaa" at the end of each one. The inept buffoon that compiled these 30 second Greek tragedies actually thought that they would take that one little soundbite from the hundreds of clips uploaded by YouTube non-entities and apply it to every single advert. It's singularly horrible.

These, coupled with the Glade Poo At Paul's advert, have made it an all time low year for advertising. No wonder ITV's in trouble. Plus, if I have to hear Beyoncé warble that "diamonds are a girl's best fwend" one more time, I'm going to punch a wall.

I'm starting to distance myself from Feckbook slightly of late, too. I am sick of the endless Mafia Wars/Vampire Wars/School of Wizardry invites, all of which I have now blocked. But it doesn't stop there. These things keep getting advertised on the side:

Don't click there. I've disabled the link. I wouldn't want you downloading anything from Zwinky on my watch. You'll never be able to get rid of it. It's reputed malware. Anyway, not much of a fucking likeness, is it? Day in, day out, these bits of dumbed-down flotsam float onto my page. Aside from Feckbook changing its layouts every five fucking minutes, these things are making it entirely unpleasant.

Speaking of unpleasant things you can't get rid of, Peter Kay was on The One Show the other day, promoting... well, himself, really. Every little thing he said, no matter how mean-spirited, everybody laughed at sycophantically. He used to repeat his material ad nauseum with a smile on his face; on this appearance, he wore the expression of a man assured of his own greatness, fully expecting his adoring audience around him to fuel his ego. I really enjoyed Phoenix Nights when it was on (I know it's unfashionable to say so right now), but really, how much longer can he peddle the same jokes and catchphrases? If nothing else, it's just indicative of how the British public are happy to fall into patterns and stick to them rigidly, which is why it ruffled so many feathers when Rage Against the Machine got to number 1. I mean, how dare they disrupt the pattern with their political rock music? That Miley Cyrus cover version (pause. Just think about that for a second. A fucking Miley Cyrus cover version. In what way does that even deserve to be number 1 of anything other than on a list of criminal charges?) should clearly have beaten them, obviously. How dare they spoil that Joe McDoodah's dream. He'll now have to work his arse off like every proper musician and band that haven't had the backing and exposure of a powerfully corrupt mogul, an ITV emotion-trawling pantomime and an unpleasant former karaoke show contestant. If his 'dream' is to actually be a respected musician/singer-songwriter, he'll have to graft, rather than have it handed to him on a plate. Here's the start of a song for him. In fact, here's a song for us all, each and every one. Sing it in a Geordie accent for full effect.

Two little dickhead bores, sitting on a wall.

Fuck you Cowell. Fuck you Cole.

I'm getting this out of my system so I can enjoy Christmas in fucking peace. One final thing; you've probably heard that Brittany Murphy died at the age of 32. I fully expect Jan Moir to cover that in a balanced way in the coming days. Let's not forget the lesson she taught us all: a healthy person in their early 30s doesn't just drop dead like that.

Have a lovely day. Sincerely. If you're suffering from the weather, stay safe.

That Was The Year That Is

Well, what an eventful year we've had so far. I've had a shitty year. How about you?

2009 saw our MPs revealed as the embezzling fuckers we always knew they were, Barack Obama becoming America's first black man, Jade Goody revert from hated racist to Princess of Hearts via the tabloids, and another bigoted arse was allowed to voice his vile opinions on Question Time.

Since we've mentioned him, and, you know, because it's Christmas and that, let's combine those two concepts and see what happens...

Has that killed your festive cheer? Sorry. Erm... oh look, it's snowing somewhere.

So, what has the International Year of Natural Fibres been eventful for, trying to steer away from politics (aside from Vladimir Putin hilariously cutting off Europe's gas supply like the Hooded Claw)? Michael Jackson died, and his brother Jermaine now dances on his grave in the BBC3 show Move Like Michael Jackson (still being centre of attention whilst being a cadaver). Jackson's death was quite an eye-opener; it's amazing how many more paedophile jokes could be squeezed out within minutes of his death. Perhaps there will be more when Jonathan King dies. Here's hoping for both.

Also this year, the Large Hadron Collider was restarted, a full year after CERN had to shut it down. If successful, it is speculated that a singularity will form, which could consume the planet and ultimately the solar system. Bad in the long term, but at least you'd get a free trip to Switzerland, without all the faffing around with EasyJet and in-flight meals.

You probably won't have read about it anywhere, but two days ago a planet was discovered orbiting the star GJ 1214, approximately 40 light years from Earth. It is the first exoplanet discovered on which water could exist. The snappily-named GJ1214b is a very important discovery, but obviously pales in significance when compared to the X Factor-related stories that were reported that day, which is typical of any science. If The Sun had reported this though, they would no doubt have included artists' impressions of what an alien might look like, whilst computer "wizards"/"boffins" (whichever set of social misfits they drafted in that day) illustrate what the planet looks like. Probably best it didn't get reported after all.

This year, Patrick McGoohan, Ron Silver, J. G. Ballard, Jack Cardiff, Bea Arthur, Dom DeLuise, David Carradine, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, Karl Malden, Walter Cronkite, Bobby Robson, Ted Kennedy, Patrick Swayze, Richard Todd, Roy Disney and Barry Letts all died. So did millions of other, non-famous people. It's the sort of thing that usually happens; the death rate is usually one per person, and 2009 did not deviate from that. Data for people who will be famous that were born this year is beyond the capabilities of human science. Sorry.

Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize, by being fortunate enough to Not Be George Bush. I'm still waiting for mine.

Films that are set in the futuristic year 2009 are Freejack, the first bit of 2012, I Am Legend, Cloverfield and Eagle Eye. I don't think any of the events in said films have happened yet.

Games set in 2009 include Half-Life, Dino Crisis, part of Metal Gear Solid 2, Left4Dead, and Resident Evil 5. Again, not a peep from zombies or dinosaurs this year. Unless you count Michael Jackson if he does decide to re-enact Thriller posthumously.

There was a brief bit of excitement when a light-hearted documentary invited all the family to watch The Execution of Gary Glitter (see String 'Im Up, R Tape Loading Error, 0:1 and Coming Soon To Channel 4 for my views and response). Unfortunately, it all turned out to be a wonderful dream, though it was also great for more nonce-gags if nothing else.

Other than that, it's been a fairly lacklustre year. But, there are still a lucky 13 days left of this decade for YOU to do something special and meaningful. Like stopping that puppet from X Factor from getting to number one. There's still time.

Ch-Ch-Changes

So, I dropped my son off at school this morning, and could barely get past anyone. The corridors were crammed with gaggles of mums yakking and gossiping. I tried to get past with my three-year-old daughter, and they wouldn't move. I said, loudly, "Excuse me," but that only seemed to draw them closer together into a more impenetrable wall. They would not budge a sodding inch for us. It meant that I had to barge past. I hate having to do that, but if people will be rude and ignorant, you're left with little choice. It's the last thing I sodding well need at this time of the year, hordes of ignorant bastards squatting in your personal space. At least the slow-moving people on the high street are actually moving, albeit imperceptibly, not forming some kind of unpleasant tracksuited barrier reef. Gangs of people barely acknowledging your existence, and making things difficult for you when you do... it was almost like being back at school myself.

When I was at school, aside from a love of comedy, the ZX Spectrum and drawing, I loved Transformers. I did my best to keep quiet about it, but it was always there. I've been a fan since it started in 1984. It was when I was in my twenties that other fans started coming out of the closet, or 'lapsed fans' jumping on the bandwagon. A lot of those people fill message boards, claiming to know everything about it, but their 'knowledge' is a few cartoons and the 1986 animated movie. But it's so much deeper...

That's one of my drawings of the Decepticon, Astrotrain. If the only thing you've ever seen of Transformers are the live-action movies, he may look a little out of place, which is something I'll come back to. The original backstory of Transformers was created by Marvel Comics, specifically by Denny O'Neill (who named Optimus Prime) and Jim Shooter, with Bob Budiansky taking over and naming Megatron and others. The cartoon was produced independently of the comics, taking the basis of the story and taking it in its own direction. The Marvel comic is what I loved though.

The once-peaceful planet of Cybertron is dragged into civil war, and the Transformers race is divided into two factions, the peace-loving Autobots, and the evil Decepticons. The planet was so ravaged by war, it was shaken from its orbit, and into the path of an asteroid belt. A team of Autobots, led by Optimus Prime, construct a craft called the Ark, launching to destroy the oncoming threat to the planet. Megatron and a team of Decepticons follow them, board the Ark, and a fight to the death ensues. Realising he has an opportunity to get rid of Megatron's threat once and for all, Optimus Prime sends the Ark on a collision course with a lifeless planet they've drifted near. The Ark crashes, killing everybody on board. Four million years later, a volcanic eruption revives the ship's systems, and it sends out a satellite to survey the planet. It sees what it understands to be life forms, and relays the information back to the ship, which begins reconstructing Autobot and Decepticon alike to resemble the indigenous people, to enable them to move around in plain sight. However, it had never encountered organic life before, nor had the Transformers, so they were given the ability to resemble cars, jets, communication devices and weapons, all devices of the humans who had evolved during that time. The war continued on modern-day Earth, both factions seen as a threat.

So, that's he basic backstory. I think that would have made a brilliant movie.

But this is what we had instead. On the right is my drawing of Megatron as he appeared in the comics, and on the left, the product of Hollywood committee. They are supposed to be the same character. On the original Megatron, you can spot clues in his robot mode as to what he transforms into. The movie Megatron on the left is a garbled mess.

I won't go into the storylines of the two live action movies here, but suffice to say it bears absolutely no relation to the original. The comics had soul, believable characters in both factions, politics, charisma, death and loss. Optimus Prime was a brilliant but flawed leader, Megatron an unstable, dangerous megalomaniac, delving more into psychosis and schizophrenic tendencies as the series progressed. There were power-struggles aplenty, with Shockwave, a monocular Decepticon who lived by logic, a constant thorn in Megatron's side, with one or the other leading the Decepticons on various occasions after successful coups on both their parts. The British writer, Simon Furman, tied in events of the animated movie (other than that, the comic and cartoon remained entirely separate entities), bringing Megatron's future self, Galvatron, back in time in a massive story arc that lasted over 2 years and left many characters dead, with a rift in time and space threatening to wipe out the entire planet. It was truly epic stuff. You had defectors, traitors, and deep characterisation. The Decepticons were not the snarling monsters that they are in the films. They had their own motivations, traits, character strengths and weaknesses. Michael Bay's movies have turned them into insectoid generic drones.

Before the first movie came out, I joined Don Murphy's message board. He's one of the producers of the films. The board was pretty standard as far as Transformers message boards go; plenty of 'proper' Transformers fans and genuinely lovely people (for the most part), and the standard bandwagon-jumpers and lapsed fans were all there, ones who had never read a comic in their lives, but thought that the cartoon from 1984-1987, with its reset-button-at-the-end 20 minute episodes, Autobots as celebrities and emo-leader Rodimus Prime in series 3 was the be all and end all of the franchise. They're the ones who always demand that characters from the animated movie be included in the live action films, but know nothing of Time Wars, Matrix Quest, the Decepticon civil war, Carnivac's defection from the Decepticons following the murder of his best friend, Cyclonus being decapitated by Megatron 20 years before his creation which led to the rift in time and space being opened, Optimus Prime's guilt over condemning the people of Earth to the Decepticon threat, Shockwave's brutal attack on an oil rig which left a young woman crippled, the Legacy of Unicron saga, the bounty-hunter, Death's Head (who ended up being one of Marvel UK's biggest stars in his own spin-off material), Autobot medic Ratchet being horrifically fused at the molecular level to Megatron, Dinobot Hunt, the Autobots losing faith in Optimus Prime's ability to lead, Impactor getting killed by thwarting an assassination attempt on Emirate Xaaron, and Grimlock's brutal reign when he became Autobot commander. In 332 issues of the UK comic, and 80 monthly US issues, a rich tapestry was created. Forever looked down upon by comic book readers as 'just a toy tie-in', and seen by Marvel themselves as a children's title, it was far from it.

Speaking of Grimlock, he and his Dinobots were vastly different to their animated counterparts. The cartoon fell into the clichéd "big characters are dumb" motif, even going so far as to have a completely different origin story for them (they were built in the cartoon by Ratchet and Wheeljack because Optimus Prime thought it would be cool to have robot dinosaurs, but in the comic, they were part of the Ark crew, revived after the crash and sent by the ship to stop Shockwave who had followed them down, and they were left dormant for 4 million years until they were rediscovered). Comics Grimlock was a stubborn, brave, dangerous anti-hero, fiercely loyal to his Dinobots. It's due to his portrayal in the comics, in particular Simon Furman's portrayal of him, that he is a fan favourite.

Back to the message board... One of the co-writers of the live action movies, Roberto Orci, was a board member. Prior to the first movie, he asked fans for suggestions for "Easter Eggs" to put in that fans would appreciate. Hundreds of suggestions were thrown his way. Being a fan of the comics, and realising that the comics would probably be overlooked, I suggested that Megatron use the word "fleshling", which he used in the comics to describe humans. It was a word that was never used in the cartoon. Lo and behold, he used my suggestion (I sent him a private message to ask if it came from my suggestion, and he confirmed it). Although the film completely did away with the Marvel origin, having them arrive in comet form with no ship, I was happy to have had one minor little thing to do with the film. What I wasn't happy with was that they had turned the Decepticons into growling monsters and gremlins. I, and many others, argued the case for including the Ark in the film, but his response was that they're beings that turn into vehicles; why would they need a spaceship? My argument was that I could theoretically swim to Australia, but I wouldn't be able to. I would need a vehicle of some sort to complete the journey. That fell on deaf ears. I was hoping that by the time of the second movie, I might be able to convince him to get G.B. Blackrock from the comics into the film. He was very much a Tony Stark-type character, and one of the Autobots' only human allies (in the comics, the Autobots and Decepticons were all seen equally by humans, and equally hated). To be fair to Mr Orci, he did listen, and took the idea to Michael Bay. I waited for a response. Finally, he came back, and said that "Michael thinks it's too cartoony". Then, on saying that, Bay introduced these particular elements to Revenge of the Fallen:

The Twins were an invention of Bay for the film, and are universally hated by Transformers fans, with shocking dialogue and cartoon faces. It's an embarrassment. Further puerile rubbish were Devastator's wrecking-ball testicles and the cringeworthy wank jokes and dogs shagging. After years of trying to convince people (and sometimes succeeding) that Transformers was not the brain-dead waste of time kid-fodder that many perceived it to be, in one fell swoop, Bay set back any progress made, from which there can be no recovery. Whenever any non-fans talk in derogatory terms about Revenge of the Fallen, I have to struggle to convince them that it bears no resemblance to anything that has come before. I mean, every other movie version of something bears at least a passing resemblance to the source material.

Whenever I see Spider-Man, any of the recent Batman movies, Hellboy or Iron Man, I feel like weeping. Why is my franchise so unlike the others? Why do they all get fairly faithful adaptations, especially in looks, and mine is full of fucking Bionicles and masturbation jokes? There has yet to be a faithful Transformers film, but it won't be until the franchise is rebooted like the Batman films were. The characters bear absolutely no resemblance in looks or personality to the originals. It's 25 years old this year, so there should be some kind of celebration. I don't feel like celebrating at all. I've stuck with it over 25 years, and for the first time in quarter of a century, I feel somewhat embarrassed by it. Not ashamed, not ever ashamed, just betrayed. I once wore the badge of being a fan proudly, despite people's reactions to that. Now, I don't know how to feel. There is so much wonderful material over the past 25 years, from the storylines I mentioned above to the superb Beast Wars: Transformers animated series (which wonderfully incorporated cartoon and comic continuity), but it's frustrating that most of the general public know nothing about them, basing their sole mocking knowledge on Bay's explosionfests. I can take solace at least that it's not only Transformers that it happened to. Poor GI Joe.

Here's probably the best bit from the 1986 animated movie:

Still, the Transformers cartoon had great opening titles, and was generally entertaining to watch, just annoying for a comic fan like me not seeing Simon Furman's sweeping epics being animated. If you ever do decide to take a look at Transformers beyond the movies, read the old Marvel comics written by Simon Furman (and avoid the horribly fanfiction-esque comics made by Dreamwave in the early 2000s). If you absolutely have to watch the cartoon, watch Megatron's Master Plan, which was admittedly great (and quite dark for a 1985 cartoon). You absolutely must watch the Beast Wars episode, Code of Hero. Beautifully written, and utterly tragic.

I'm angry at the fact that characters I grew up with have been pissed all over by Hollywood. I really wish that people could see why I love Transformers; it's unlikely when they're not going to read the graphic novels and watch all three seasons of Beast Wars and its layers upon layers of story arc. Perhaps one day, Hollywood will come back to the franchise, and remake it in the way it should always have ended up on the big screen. It's survived dozens of reboots and remakes over the years; I'm sure it could survive one on such a huge scale. It's a franchise based on characters who change by their very nature. If the Hulk can get rebooted so quickly after its first film, I'm sure these guys can too.

Another missed opportunity

After my earlier blog, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who's given me kind words and support. It's much appreciated.

By way of thanks, I'd like to share this with you, which I found when I was getting today's advent calendar sorted:

Want to star in our next TV ad?



Well this could be your chance

We're on the lookout to find 10 of the UK's most talented TV hopefuls to star in our next high profile television advertising campaign for our market leading mobile phone recycling website.

The new advert will follow hot on the heels of our extremely successful campaign across dozens of terrestrial and digital television channels as well as online. The advert aired during the hugely popular Big Brother slot on Channel 4 and X-Factor on ITV1, became an overnight success and received an amazing response on YouTube and Twitter.

Ever dreamt of appearing in millions of homes on primetime TV?

This advert was big, but the next one will be even bigger! So, if you fancy being catapulted to instant fame, this is your chance to battle it out for a role in this fast-paced advertising campaign which will go on air early next year. You never know, with this level of visibility and recognition, it could be the start of a fabulous career in TV.

So how do you enter?

Simple — all you need to do is upload a 3 minute vid-cast showcasing your acting talents, character and green credentials. Our team of talent spotters will then whittle down the entries to just 30 people for the final auditions to be held in London later this year. The final 10 winners from the auditions will then be invited back to our production studios in London for filming! Closing dates for entries is 31st October 2009, so get your video entries in fast. Auditions will take place in November and filming is expected to commence in early December.

Not that interested in appearing on screen, but would still like to play a part? We're also interested in hearing from aspiring musicians, bands or producers who want to have a crack at creating the music to accompany the advert. If you think you can make music that will work in a high profile TV advert, please email your music files to music@envirofone.com.

Terms and conditions apply.

I'm sorry to say that I'm too late to enter, so you'll have to wait the next time they decide to make an advert.

Does anyone have confused.com's casting agent's phone number?

(Incidentally, that long-haired twat on the old adverts for confused.com has a Wikipedia page about him, which names his influence as Russell Brand. For fuck's sake.)