Friday, 12 June 2009

Dream journalism job


Grab it while you can - there aren't many dream jobs in journalism left. Or shit jobs, for that matter.

Bermuda Sun, Senior News Reporter
date posted: Friday, 5th June 2009
date ending: Friday, 19th June 2009
It’s a dream job in beautiful Bermuda, but you’ll have to earn it.

You’re a fully trained news reporter with at least five years’ full-time newspaper experience, outstanding clippings and superb references. Digital photographic skills a plus.

You’re a resourceful, versatile and highly mobile journalist. You relish the prospect of living overseas and covering a broad range of subjects, from politics and crime to tourism and the environment.

You have the personality to develop strong contacts and the skill and tenacity to nail the big stories for our twice-weekly paper and website. In return you’ll enjoy year-round sunshine and a generous, tax-free salary.

No time-wasters, please — only full-time print news reporters need apply.

Deadline for applications: Friday, June 19, 2009

E-mail cover letter and resumé to: Tony McWilliam, Editor-in-chief - tmcwilliam@bermudasun.bm

application details
job type: National
job role: Editorial
job location: Americas - Bermuda
email CVs to: tmcwilliam@bermudasun.bm

Here's Johnny


Here's Johnny Depp looking like a crisp Christmas turkey on the cover of the current issue of Vanity Fair. A particularly handsome turkey, but a turkey nevertheless. Much could be made of the fact that VF have chosen to leave Depp's skin looking sun-damaged and wrinkly, while a female actor of similar age would surely have been airbrushed to buggery. One could say that it just encourages the widespread idea that women grow old, men grow distinguished - and it does. But that would just be boring, and, anyway, I don't agree with that maxim at all. I think everyone (both men and women) grows older and uglier. Some at differrent rates than others, depending on what "God" gave you.

My problem with Johnny Depp in Vanity Fair isn't his aversion to factor 50; it was Douglas Brinkley's piece itself, which was a sychophantic paean to everything that is wrong with our celebrity-worshipping age. Full disclosure: I am a fan of Mr Depp's work, and not just because he's hot. And I also like Vanity Fair. Sure, it runs far too many pieces about real estate in the Hamptons, but it's one of the only publications on earth that is still consistently well-written and researched. I like nothing more than reading long, dirty dissertations about Bernie Madoff. Truly.

But then you have Brinkley on Depp. Brinkley - who is also a professor of history, according to Wikipedia - is obviously so super duper chuffed at being invited to Depp's private Caribbean island that he can't bring himself to say anything interesting about the actor. He has an indulgently decked out yacht! He drinks Corona and eats classy junk food! He's still banging on about Jack Kerouac! (What is he, 15 years old?) He swims in the sea, except, like, he's so much cuter than the rest of us! I went from thinking Depp was a mildly interesting actor to thinking he was just a boring rich guy with an island. Perhaps it's the truth - but I doubt it.

I hate celebrity culture as much as the next guilty Dlisted reader, but it's the religion of our times, and it deserves better analysis than this. The last thing you need in your precious, precious life is to read yet another fawning celebrity profile. It's a wasted half-hour. As Michael Jackson proved, the truth is always much, much stranger. Just don't read them. Maybe I'll take my own advice.

Or bring back Truman Capote.

Tuesday, 9 June 2009

Tree cosy


Between 2005 and 2008, this otherwise unassuming tree in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, sported a rather fetching "Tea Cozy", as knitted by the artist Carol Hummel. Pretty, no? And pretty perplexing - how did she do it?

I passed through Cleveland on the way to New York when I was 19 and travelling on my own. Even at 4am, the Greyhound station was full of Amish families and homeless guys asking for change. And then I missed my bus, lost all my belongings and realised I had no money in my bank account, so that, eight years on, the word "Cleveland" just means "hell" to me. But it had a tree cosy, so it can't be all bad.

Monday, 8 June 2009

Shake yo ass

All the worst aspects of Brazilian culture, summarised in one horrific four-minute video.



And to even things out, here's the best (this really is the fucking best!):

Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Animal of the week: the slow loris



Please buy me one for Xmas.

I did a little interview with Kim Gordon for last Sunday's Independent on Sunday - click here to read it.

Friday, 22 May 2009

Nadine Dorries, Tory MP

"People are seriously beginning to crack," Ms Dorries told BBC Radio 4's Today programme. "The last day in Parliament this week was, I would say, completely unbearable.

"I have never been in an atmosphere or environment like it, when people walk around with terror in their eyes..."


Boohoo! At last, politicians know how workers in the city, the car industry and the media have felt over the last year, coming into work every day, terrified of being laid off. Except most of them didn't do anything to deserve it.

Link from The Times.

Wednesday, 20 May 2009

BNP rant, part 2: Look what the cat dragged in...

Or rather, the postman. If I were him, I would have ripped it to shreds, but I guess that would be unprofessional. (Thankfully, some postal workers are pickier about what they deliver.)





What most frustrates me about the British National Party is their stupidity. In many ways, we're fortunate to have idiots representing the British far right - rather than, say, Hitler, who was clever enough to dupe one of the most cultured nations in the world into believing that Jews were the root of all its problems. But the BNP is no Nazi Party. While perusing the blog of a supporter the other day (hey, I have a lot of time on my hands), it was rather pleasing to note that the blogger couldn't even spell "Britain". Bravo, patriot!

The back of the BNP's new leaflet (the second picture above) cites "D-day" and "The Somme", among other battles, as reasons for why "we" (ie white people) have earned the right to be stupid, British and racist. Does that mean that all the Americans who landed in Normandy are British too? Oh, and the Somme - any eight-year-old who's been on a school trip to the Imperial War Museum will know that thousands of Indians and West Indians fought in the trenches.

Underneath that, there's a picture of a cuddly pair of old fascists, explaining why they want England to become a neo-Nazi state (exaggeration, mine): "We've seen how this country has declined under the present government and we're voting BNP because they will put pensioners before asylum seekers and ensure our future." Because Gordon Brown really does sit around pondering, "Who's more important/better/cuter, asylum seekers or defenseless old grannies?" - and he ALWAYS picks asylum seekers, the bastard.

This leaflet's purpose is twofold. Most obviously, it's out to recruit new members at a time when support for mainstream political parties is at an all-time low. But its secondary purpose is more sinister - it's been sent out to intimidate immigrants and ethnic minorities. After all, you don't send BNP leaflets to a Hackney council estate - much like the one I live in - unless you want to strike fear into the hearts of black and Asian people. Of the six flats in my block, only one of them is occupied by a white British family.

It says "British Jobs for British Workers" on the leaflet, but they don't mean "British Workers"; they even mean "Anglo-Saxon British Workers". Nick Griffin has made it quite clear that he believes that Black and Asian Britons "do not exist".

How does one decide who is British and who isn't? As we all know, our country has been invaded so many times that it is impossible to ascertain who is actually indigenous. Anglo-Saxons were of German origin, and they've only been around for two thousand years. Black people have been around for almost as long - much evidence supports the idea that the African-born Roman Emperor Septimius Severus, who rebuilt Hadrian's Wall, was black.

Let's not kid ourselves. By "British", they mean white. Which is why we have to stamp these fuckers out, and use our votes for the main British parties, as much as they have disappointed us in the past few weeks.

Monday, 18 May 2009

How do I love thee, Charlie Brooker

Let me count the ways:

"Every country has its own tiny enclave of frightened, disenfranchised, misguided souls clinging to their national flag, claiming they're the REAL patriots, saying everyone's out to get them. It's an international weakness. For the BNP to claim to be more British than the other British parties is as nonsensical as your dad suddenly claiming to have invented the beard."

Click here for the rest of his BNP kicking.

Sunday, 17 May 2009

Redundancy, football

Here's a nice, well-written redundancy story courtesy of fellow out-of-work writer Alex Balk, who used to work for Gawker... As a freelancer-cum-unemployed person, I could do with more of these.

But sometimes I manage to get work. Check out my piece in today's Independent on Sunday about casual culture and the brilliant indie film Awaydays.

The writer Kevin Sampson cited the cover of David Bowie's Low as a major football casual reference point. You learn something everyday. And isn't it a beautiful picture?

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Awkward family photos

Favourite blog of the week, month, year, ever... Do not scroll down if you are of a delicate disposition - the last picture will haunt you.