Self Definition

Its probably stupid, but Im a believer in naming yourself as what you are: if you sculpt in your spare time, youre an artist, if you play in a band on the weekends, youre a musician. Its a simple philosophy, admittedly, but simple generally works best, I find.

Writings become such a big part of my life, to the point where its how I define who and what I am. Yes, I have a day job, but thats all about the money: I clock in, I clock out, end of. The writing thing, though, is what I hang all my hopes and dreams on. I know my stuff isnt to every ones tastes, and I know that people will actively slag it off, but for all of those people, theres enough people out there wholl support me and encourage me.

People I know in the real world accuse me of taking things in life too seriously, but when you feel so passionately about something, when youre prepared to sacrifice anything to get what you want, arent you allowed to be serious?
Ive worked hard at this whole writing thing. Ive practiced and honed down whatever skills I may (or may not possess); Ive read, Ive learned, Ive written, but I still feel like Ive got a long way to go. To me, its a constantly evolving thing, and, because of my personality, its something I feel Ill never be great at good, maybe (with a lot more work), but never great.

Theres times, though, when I feel like I can take on the world, whether it be with text stories, comic scripts or just good old fashioned blogs. When those times are here, I feel like I can be the new Alan Moore, or churn out a critically acclaimed bestseller before teatime; I can throw ideas around like confetti, and figure out intricate character details and story concepts.

Then, there are other times when I look back at stuff Ive written, and I immediately think its shit. I feel like Im trying to fool myself into believing something thats so blatantly untrue, and Im never going to realise my dreams, simply because I dont possess the talent. When that happens, my mind empties, and I cant write anything. If I do manage to squeeze something out, I immediately re-write it to the nth degree, or just dump it completely.

When I hit that kind of low, its difficult to get out of it; I generally have to force myself, but it gets harder and harder each time. I keep wondering if Im wasting my time with it all, or whether Im just hanging on to some unobtainable goal, simply because Ive held on to it and used it to define myself for so long.

"Want some candy?"

When The Life and Death of Peter Sellers was released, the key thing people said about the director Stephen Hopkins was that he directed Predator 2, as if it were some kind of insult.

If nothing else, that just hammers home the point that its a much maligned film thats had a pretty rough deal down the years, but, seriously, its not as bad a film as people make it out to be.

Yeah, okay, so it follows the basic rules of sequels and ups the body count and the gore quota, but it also builds on the original, rather than just re-hash it. Okay, so Schwarzeneggers not in it, you can't make the Beowulf comparisons anymore, and the homo-erotic overtones of the first have long since vanished, but its still a seriously fucking watchable film.

I mean, its not without its flaws; the characters are so clichd they may as well just be stock cardboard cut-outs, the dialogue doesnt come anywhere near the levels of quality of the first and the casting is questionable at best, but somehow it all hangs together brilliantly.

Lets be honest here: the last 45 minutes of the film fucking rules, and it makes it all worth it. Danny Glover really comes into his own, and proves hes not just Mel Gibsons sidekick. And, of course, seeing all those aliens appear at the end is cool as fuck.

Frankly, anyone who says Predator 2 is crap shouldnt be listened to ever again.

Ever.

Signs and wonders

I don't know if anyone saw Revelations on Sky Three last night, but it's just further proof that America seems obsessed with scaring people.

The basic premise is that two people begin to investigate signs that the end of the world is coming, and that Christ may have returned to herald it all. And how does it start? With images of violence in the Middle East, and footage of natural disasters, of course.

Now, that's enough to make you slightly nervous, but throw the whole 'End of Days' thing into the mix, and you've got something to make you dive behind the sofa and start stockpiling food and dirty magazines.

Long before September 11, the American media were going out of their way to make people frightened (and it was something that was slowly starting to take hold in the UK, with ITV being the prime mover). Every other news story was someone getting killed, or raped, or brutally beaten, but one look outside your window proved to be a very different story. Then, after September 11, the media finally had justification to scare the hell out of everyone, and feel pleased with itself.

But that sense of fear seems to be creeping its way out of the news and into the rest of the media's output. 24, for example, plays on the constant fear of terrorist attacks in the US; corpses are piling up week after week in CSI; there's an invasion going on in, er, Invasion. And it goes on and on and on. Each and every American drama – the top rated dramas, you'll notice – all have a fear as their core component, whether it's the fear of the unknown, being attacked or just good old fashioned death.

I suppose it was inevitable, then, that a US drama about Judgement Day would come along to scare the hell out of the western world.

It's just a shame it's not very good.

Hype

Don't listen to what they say on Radio 1: the cover of Crazy by The Kooks is shit.

Journey North?

Okay, so who's had the misfortune to sit through the new video from those X Factor muppets Journey South?

Not only is their image manufactured by a committee who's sole mission seems to have been to bland the fuck out of two blokes who seem to have given a whole new meaning to the very concept of bland, but their record company seems to want to introduce the world (or, rather, us unfortunate bastards in the UK) to their own unique take on geography.

For anyone who doesn't know - and my hat goes off to you, you lucky gits, you - Journey South are from Middlesbrough. Now, for whatever reason, the video sees them walking around Newcastle - across the Millenium Eye and along The Quayside, amongst others - which is obviously meant to indicate that they're good old northern lads, who're proud of where they come from.

So, why are they wandering around Newcastle? Why not have them wander around Middlesbrough? It would make more sense, that being their home town and all.

Or is it just that Journey South's management team are a bunch of dongers, who don't actually know (or even care) that there's more than just Newcastle in the north east? Surely, they couldn't be that downright patronising and stereotypical, can they?

Well, obviously they can, giving those 'Geordie' lads Journey South.

Heart of Stone

A mate told me the other night that I have a heart of stone (his exact words were "They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but with you it's a Black & Decker!"), and the more I think about it, the more I have to wonder if he's right.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm naturally quiet, but I also have a tendency to keep my feelings under wraps (which has been really fucking hard over the last couple of weeks). I think, because of that, I give people the impression I'm distant, aloof and I have to wonder if I'm giving that impression to the wrong people.

Then again, someone else said to me: "You're a nice bloke, really, but you just don't like people knowing it."

"If it bleeds, we can kill it."

Ok, hands up who's seen Predator.

Yeah, yeah, there's a seven foot tall alien in it, which looks pretty cool and, it's all anyone ever remembers about the film. No one seems to remember that it's probably John McTiernan's finest hour after Die Hard, or that it's one of the most macho films ever made. It's so drenched in testosterone, you'll find it in a strip club, drinking beers and reading magazines full of naked women draped over fast cars holding guns.

It's fucking ludicrous! During the first half hour, you half expect the cast to whip out their knobs and see who can piss the highest. Every other shot seems to consist of one of them flexing their sweat soaked muscles - so much so, you'd think you'd accidently taped over the film with some gay porn.

This over the top macho nonsense also continues into the DVD special edition, if you're ever lucky enough to see it. In fact, if they'd just had the aforementioned pissing contest on the DVD, you'd hardly notice the difference.

All that said, though, any film that can get away with the line "I ain't got time to bleed!" is alright with me.

I've just found out that Russell Brand is joining 6 Music. I've also just found out that he's apparently an award winning stand up comedian, known for his drunken and debauched antics.

Which is a bit of a surprise, because I always thought he was just a poor man's Vernon Kaye.

But without the personality.

And now he's bringing his unique brand of inanity to 6 Music.

The only thing that could possibly make me want to listen to him is if he fellates himself live on air.

That would make him marginally more interesting.