Harrods staff letter

Name blacked out to protect the informant.

panel1_500x500

I also have holes in my face. It is a low-priority pre-existing condition, unlike having a dead body in my apartment. The most reassuring thing about having holes in your face is that everyone else seems to have holes in -their- faces. If everyone else had smooth faces or consisted solely of electromagnetic charges or seaweed, then you’d probably be quite distressed to have a face with holes in them where you have to put stuff into or make very sure to not put any stuff into (people are very good at telling the two apart, except when it comes to other parts of the body).

panel2_500x500

panel3_500x500

Aliens from the planet Space are mistakenly considered to be utterly delectable. It’s actually that they taste novel, like a new basic taste. It’s all very exciting. We can experience this new taste because our taste buds allow it to activate various flavours in unison. I’ve tried Space alien once and the taste is very hard to place. An expert wine taster would probably be of more use. There’s definitely something sweet in there, and vanilla? There’s a jolt of something else, like blended popcorn, and then an aftertaste I can only describe as blue slushy, though not as chemical or sweet. I’m not describing it well. Overall it goes down like a very light dish, Space alien meat. You can almost not get enough of it.

panel4_500x500

panel5_500x500

Sometimes you just don’t want to be disturbed. You might be in bed listening to a verbally gifted person explain why they love you so much. At a time like that you’d rather not have to run to the oven or disable the fire alarm or let the neighbours know you are in fact home and nothing’s on fire. Other times you do want to be disturbed. You’re entirely ready to mean business, but there is no business to mean. Someone should call you up and ask you to help move house or suggest looking up the most delicious recipe to be found online and endeavour to make it together.

panel6_500x500

It is always a good idea to watch panel shows and floss.

panel7_500x500

Brains coming loose? Take 5 and you’ll be fine. Honest.

panel8_500x500

There is no terror that lasts forever. You can quote me on that one. But really, how brilliant is it to lie in a bathtub and notice how barely visible in the distance, past icebergs of bubble foam and paddlewheel boats of plastic, there are two strange islands and you can actually make these strange faraway islands rise and sink by the use of sheer willpower?

panel9_500x500

Never judge anyone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes. I didn’t make that one up, but it’s a good one to remember. That said, white socks are inexcusable.

panel10_500x500

The letter O would be pretty boring as a racetrack, but it’s the only one that would make for a continuously smooth ride. If the circumference was large enough, it would seem just like a straight neverending road.

panel11_500x500

It seems I can no longer enjoy libraries the way I used to and it is just a little bit sad. Browsing around the library was always fantastic, and then one could return home with a pile of different books of interest without having to think of cost and whether one really needed them. And for a kid, what can replace smelling the pages of a newly stocked book on brilliantly illustrated sceneries of Roman towns and forts?

panel12_500x500

So this is the end of our story, and everyone has gone off to the wave pool but us two.

5. Eddie Izzard – Death Star Canteen (with LEGO)

4. Korean Schoolgirl Milk Fetish Bass Player Champ Extraordinaire

3. Klaus Nomi – Lightning Strikes

2. Italian Spiderman

1. Hocus Pocus – Focus

The simple answer is: you are an emergent consciousness. Your consciousness was not bestowed upon a particular human. Look at it from the bottom up instead; your sense of self arose from the brain which comes with the organism, your neural complexity (and as a result: your awareness) having gradually increased during childhood to far surpass that of the average marsupial.

What you’ve sensed and experienced and reflected on and remembered since, plus the starting conditions of your neural make-up, is what makes up how you see yourself.
tl;dr: body -> brain -> consciousness -> identity

You could only have been you. Why were you born in the 20th century? A brain matured enough for self-realisation and found itself in the 20th century. This sort of thing happens all the time. Your brain was produced in the 20th century, Herostratus’ brain in the 4th century BC, new ones are on their way. New brains maturing elsewhere in the world will not add to your consciousness and you will not become self-aware ever again, as they will be different brains.

Now, the obvious implication… is that our sense of self is bound to our body, and thus highly susceptible to stopping to exist at all. In that respect my answer will satisfy few people.

And this is justified.

The concept of an end to existence (and mind you, that also means the end of any realisation of an end to existence) is unacceptable. Even the most rational human beings only manage to accept it through considering it a permanent sleep or by not thinking about it too much. Only in a close brush with death do we set our claws in life, hoping we still get the time to berate the universe enough for it to feel guilty about producing organisms self-aware enough to realise they’re leading a life shortly before it is gone forever.

For our sake we should deliberately believe, regardless of arguments to the contrary, that we are immortal souls on a temporary sojourn into concensus-reality, or a new knot in the tapestry of the One Mind.

To be able to do so, I suggest using the pliancy of quantum mechanics for all its worth, and to consider the mystical visions induced by salvia or ayahuasca as real rather than hyper-charged imagination. It makes all the difference.

You are you, because you wanted to experience a life where you stumble upon an article about consciousness and firmly decide to join the author’s cult, whatever else it entails (= pancakes).

I’m a modern man, a man for the millennium; digital and smoke-free.

A diversified, multi-cultural, post-modern deconstructionist; politically, anatomically and ecologically incorrect.

I’ve been uplinked and downloaded, I’ve been inputted and outsourced. I know the upside of downsizing, I know the downside of upgrading.

I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting-edge, state-of-the-art, bi-coastal multi-tasker, and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.

I’m new-wave, but I’m old-school; and my inner child is outward-bound.

I’m a hot-wired, heat-seeking, warm-hearted cool customer; voice-activated and bio-degradable.

I interface with my database; my database is in cyberspace; so I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive, and from time to time I’m radioactive.

Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin’ the wave, dodgin’ the bullet, pushin’ the envelope.

I’m on point, on task, on message, and off drugs.

I’ve got no need for coke and speed; I’ve got no urge to binge and purge.

I’m in the moment, on the edge, over the top, but under the radar.

A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary.

A street-wise smart bomb. A top-gun bottom-feeder.

I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps, I run victory laps.

I’m a totally ongoing, big-foot, slam-dunk rainmaker with a pro-active outreach.

A raging workaholic, a working rageaholic; out of rehab and in denial.

I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant, and a personal agenda.

You can’t shut me up; you can’t dumb me down. ‘Cause I’m tireless, and I’m wireless. I’m an alpha-male on beta-blockers.

I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever; Laid-back but fashion-forward. Up-front, down-home; low-rent, high-maintenance.

I’m super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built to last.

I’m a hands-on, footloose, knee-jerk head case; prematurely post-traumatic, and I have a love child who sends me hate-mail.

But I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing. A supportive, bonding, nurturing primary-care giver.

My output is down, but my income is up. I take a short position on the long bond, and my revenue stream has its own cash flow.

I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds, I watch trash sports.

I’m gender-specific, capital-intensive, user-friendly and lactose-intolerant.

I like rough sex; I like tough love. I use the f-word in my e-mail. And the software on my hard drive is hard-core—no soft porn.

I bought a microwave at a mini-mall. I bought a mini-van at a mega-store. I eat fast food in the slow lane. I’m toll-free, bite-size, ready-to-wear, and I come in all sizes.

A fully equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically proven, scientifically formulated medical miracle.

I’ve been pre-washed, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed;

And . . . I have unlimited broadband capacity.

I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal. Lean and mean. Cocked, locked and ready to rock; rough, tough and hard to bluff.

I take it slow, I go with the flow; I ride with the tide, I’ve got glide in my stride.

Drivin’ and movin’, sailin’ and spinnin’; jivin’ and groovin’, wailin’ and winnin’.

I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose. I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road. I party hearty, and lunchtime is crunch time.

I’m hangin’ in, there ain’t no doubt;

and I’m hangin’ tough.

Over and out.

I refuse to believe Mad Men is any good. People tricked me into checking Breaking Bad. Fool me once…

Well, that’s the only one I found. I came upon it on some obscure messageboard. Well, there’s this joke comment from someone who hasn’t seen Breaking Bad in response to someone who said it was awesome:

You are so wrong on this matter even my gerbil is laughing. Laughing hard. With you. At you. Just saying. You’re wrong. Breaking Bad sucks. It sucks so hard, hell, if your momma would hold a copy of Breaking Bad between her teeth it would not only suck her brains right out of her skull, but it would at the same time create a vacuum in her uterus that would suck your skinny white arse right the fuck back into her womb, which is where you belong anyway. So yeah. Suck on that, mister I-know-it-all-better-than-you-anyway. Punk.

So I could move on to find criticisms of great shows such as House or Curb Your Enthusiasm or True Blood or Reaper or Life. But instead I feel like twisting your world upside down and quoting from 5/5 and 10/10 star reviews for the most dismally awful TV series in recent history. Of course I’ll start with Big Brother. I personally haven’t watched Big Brother, so I cannot form an honest opinion of it, but still I’m as proud of never having seen it as I’m proud of not tossing a used condom onto a playground. Without further ado:

This is just the best reality show that there has ever been. Every show they put in a bunch of people and we watch them 24-7.

Sounds appetising. Though it’s like saying Rockstar is the best Nickelback song that there has ever been, and the concept sounds as exciting as playing tug-of-war against a dead crow.

u really have to treat the show for what it is, because it certainly isn’t intellectual viewing anymore

Unlike earlier seasons of Big Brother, which no doubt contained compelling social commentary and mind-blowing debates on game theory and neuroscience.

BB6 had some okay people including Science, Roberto, Derek, Makosi, Eugene and winner Anthony. BB7 had some fantastic people including Grace, Lea, Nikki, Aisleyne Glyn and winner Pete. I would have loved to have seen Craig Phillips, Nasty Nick Bateman, Brian Dowling, Jade Goody (who returned in Celebrity Big Brother 2007 with Mum Jackiey and boyfriend Jack), Kate Lawler, Alex Sibley and Jon Tickle.

An enticing bucket of random names.

the best season was in 2004 the HMs selection was perfect and BB got evil and Nada won on a very emotional final night. that series had everything fun fun fun LOL moments, funny HMs, great twists, huge fights(FIGHT NIGHT ANYONE). great group and friendship developments.

I wish my gravestone to read “His life had everything fun fun fun LOL moments, great twists, huge fights (FIGHT NIGHT ANYONE?), great group and friendship developments”. Perfect.

BB3 was the best cast ever assembled for a TV show.

Casting directors everywhere commit harakiri.

If you’re going for historical value, Season 2 had arguably one of the best BB players ever.

Historically speaking.

Just think: you can watch this season whenever you want for the rest of your life. You’ve got to buy it.

Just imagining it makes me incontinent with joy.

The people are real, what’s happening is real… After all, it’s reality TV.

Are you for real? I don’t know if I can handle that much reality.

It’s fun to see what the producers actually put on the show, as opposed to what really happens in the house.

Oh, that’s alright then.

It can be pretty boring towards the start of the run but after a couple of weeks, once you get used to the contestants and you know a lot more about them, you will find yourself tuning in every night for an update, or even just to see how they’re doing!

It’s called “having children”. On second thought, stick with the telly.

It may be just a bunch of 20 something men and women walking around a house, doing meaningless tasks, looking completely bored and sunbathing but it is not what is physically happening that is intriguing to me, it is what is happening below the surface. By placing a load of people in a house, it gives the viewer an insight into our own meaningless lives and our same boring routine.

Sorry, still not intriguing.

Penny: was the first housemate to be evicted. I thought she was a bit wierd at first, and i didnt like her much. She was good friends with Naz and Brian. Stuart: was the 2nd housemate to be evicted. I have had an e-mail from him. I didnt like him much as he was too competetive (as amma also said) Amma and Stuart had a massive row on Brians birthday. Narinder: “Naz” was very good friends with Brian. She was my second favorute housemate. She had an argument with Helen. Bubble: was the 4th housemate to be evicted. He was also good friends with Brian. He spent most of Saturdays in bed as he usually spends Saturday with his dauhger. Amma: was the 5th housemate to be evicted. I dont really know what to say about her lol! Josh: was the 6th housemate to be evicted. He was also voted into the house by the public. He thought Brian didnt like him. Paul: was the 7th housemate to be evicted, he was up for eviction 4 times. He had a fling with Helen and Penny in the first week. Elizabeth: was the 8th housemate to be evicted, the day before the final. She was good friends with Dean. Dean: was the 9th housemate to be evicted. He was in the final 3. He is engaged to Vanessa. He played the guitar constantly in the house.

I’d swear I’ve been told this same story many times before.

For once, the Dutch are geniuses.

Take that, combined cultural and scientific legacy of the Netherlands. Now you know what you’re -really- valued for.

It says a lot about modern America that this show exists. The parallels to ancient Rome just keep coming.

Another nitpick is that in season 3 episode 2 I believe they jumped on the anti-pedo bandwagon which was one of the lamest sell-outs to revolve an entire episode around in the history of TV.

it’s pretentious, forced, silly and more than a little annoying for anyone not into trying to appear “cool” to their friends in the media.

Dexter also lacks the goal, crazy as it may be, of the British character.

The characterisation is pretty shallow compared to other shows I’ve recently watched, and I don’t feel you get much of an insight into the mind of a serial killer.

After seeing the pilot it is clear that the writing is bad. Voice overs are hard and these writers don’t have the chops for it. Just listening to this show makes me want to carve out my ear drums. I adore Mike Hall and loved Six Feet Under, but that was compelling, well-crafted drama. This show is just empirically bad. Dexter needs to shut up and stop trying to be profound about his life like a 14 year-old angst-ridden poet. Let us learn about Dex by what happens on screen–not god-awful, campy voice overs.

Michael C Hall proves a dull lead

Given one of the show’s very clunky in-jokes, one should just watch American PSYCHO. It offers a better, darker view of a serial killer (not to mention a far superior lead performance), where the black humour is cleverly handled, not just a way to make off-putting material more acceptable for a mainstream audience.

I won’t even get into the other characters who are just dragging the whole show down, especially Dexter’s sisters (Jennifer Carpenter). She did a decent job in the remake “Quarantine” but only because she was a typical horror movie victim. You enjoy to see her scream and die but she won’t in this show.

It is nothing more than a show a housewife would watch while ironing her clothes.

The really sad thing is that
some sucker is sittin out there watching the
tube while the show keeps twisting gravity i.e.
calling ‘bad’ ‘good’ …yeah, butterfly effect
and all that. You people suck bigtime w/ this
Dexter garbage.

The only reason people tell you that the Wire does not suck is because they know they have wasted like 10 hours of their lives on a thing which sucks and this makes them bitterly want others to similarly waste their lives, so they lie.

This is an average procedural, nothing more or less, stuffed with an array of interchangeable and forgettable characters

Want to see a fat cop enter his superior’s office and start, for some reason, to talk about how he was masturbating in the bath?

I found myself yanking this thing out of the DVD 25 minutes in. What a terrible show. It seems the producers of this show decided to use profanity in every scene as a blocker for the horrible writing and unclear storyline.

Isn’t this a police show? Why the newspaper crap. So boring. Why the political crap, So boring. And if that fat senator says Sheeeeeeeeeeet one more time…………………….Show SUCKS.

My main problem though is that the series is just a trap to spread liberal propaganda. You are drawn in by the drug dealers, their lives and their battles with each other and the police, then you have to endure propaganda scenes about the school system, politics and newspapers in order to get to the best part of the show, which is the portrayal of the dealers.

D’Angelo is constantly sitting on the same pile of boxes or whatever every day.

The Wire is like an improvisation at one of those let it all hang out stage schools which never produces particularly great actors.

This series stinks. I watched only episode 1, and have the experience and perception to know that it won’t get any better.

I didn’t like the profanity. It went on for too long, filled every one’s mouths, and didn’t have a point to it after the first 40 minutes. Everyone was swearing and cursing and it bored me. I got bored with it. It didn’t help to develop character or story and offended me after having it fill my ears for 40 minutes. The profanity was so thick in the first 35 minutes I got bored. I coulden’t understand what anyone was saying to each other because of the broken english, cursing and swearing, and lude and immature banter everyone engages in. In short, I coulden’t follow the story. If gangster talk and street slang wasn’t worse enough, the profanity and constant cursing just filled in the rest of the dialogue, it felt like the scriptwriters got bored with developing character and story.

The only reason I kept watching was to see Idris Elba who plays Stringer Bell cause he is a cutie!

Not in twenty years have I seen a show that has such a weak character development.

Common, no computers? I find that hard to swollow, and NO this show does not touch the Sopranos with a 10 foot pole.

But the directing and the writing are WAY OFF. This show would really appeal gangbangers n ppl like dat. Eg.The show has a curtain lingo, if you arnt ‘in the life’ you probably wont get alot of whats goin on.

I tried it sober; perhaps I should have tried it drunk.

Synopsis: “Baltimore is gritty, hardcore. Cops are corrupt sometimes” yawn.

the unseemly feeling I get that a lot of corny crack rap fans will just hype up anything that has anything to do with drug dealing these days.

This is the TV series equivalent of a chick flick. A constant succession of Major Drama Queen Moments. Chock full of soap opera-y stuff that women seem to like for whatever reason they do, but completely bore the crap out of me.

This series is a stinky turd sitting in the bottom of the SciFi Channel commode and no matter how many people call it a rose, it STILL STINKS LIKE A TURD.

Did want to be too sci-fi-ish? Did they watch the original show, it was a science fiction. It’s suppose to be a science fiction! Now let’s talk about the bullets. Lasers are sci-fi anymore, they actually exist! Plus, it’s not sci-fi about laser battles in space, it’s science fact that a bullet would not work in a area of non-gravity, like SPACE! So, having a space battle with bullets makes no sense what so ever. If you got hooked on this crapper then stop watching it. Go cold turkey and realize that the show is a turkey. I give it…THE NOOSE!

The acting is poor and story lines bland and looks something Canada chucked out.

Ludicrously similar to the (usually) teen-aged modern “role playing game” fans who constantly talked of the lack of “darkness” in some game they were involved in a decade past, but themselves had so little experience of “DAHKNESSSSSSS” that they’d have shrieked and run not only from anything remotely like one of the creepy crawlies (usually human appearing, but horrific in some psychological or spiritual way) they wanted featured and emphasized into the ground but also shielded and run or simply self-destructed from any realistic darkness that had presented itself into their unthinking little lives.

The characters are poorly written. Also, they managed to transform Sturbuck, the hero of my childhood, into a female character

All BSG has is third-rate actors with dreadful hairdos

I don’t want our youth (and adults) to think that if they acted “angry” and “troubled” people around them will see them as serious, and important person, but this program is filled with this kind of innuendos.

People in suits and ties aboard a spaceship?

I’m trying not to bash my head against the wall through every scene of BSG. But I’ve failed.

Older reviews tell fans of the old show to “have an open mind” even though the new BG is pretty much a slap in the face to the fans of the Classic BG. (note to SciFi – re-making an old show is only a good idea if you DON’T slap the fans in the face).

What a hulking, pretentious, brooding load of festering felgercarb! I went through all of the stages of dying before the third season ended, lingering a little longer at “anger” and “denial” than I think I will when the time actually does come.

The main story line moves way too slowly, and there are only just so many times that Starbuck can get drunk and beat up Col. Tigh in order to distract from the fact that nothing much has changed in the story line.

I still can’t believe they managed to cram 48000 people, a cat and a dog into that tiny fleet.

Shakystar Crapotica is a better title for this show as it describes its nature in a much better way than the original title.

I will continue to watch GB, but that is mainly because there are no alternatives out there.

So the show won awards… Big Woop…. How is that related to quality in the slightest? After all, we live in a world where The Office won an Emmy

In BSG whenever there’s a discussion between Adama and Madame President they drink, when the pilots are not in their vipers they play cards and drink, when the hangar-crew and the chief don’t repair vipers they drink (they don’t even have real glasses). It makes me feel like a bunch of alcoholics is trying to save the rest of mankind.

How on earth there is so little actual sex in the close confines of a fleet of space ships under the emancipating trauma of near-collective death and the euphoria of (temporary) survival is something I found difficult to process

You’ve had a number of interesting odd jobs. What were they?

“I’ve cleaned airplanes, renovated a corporate building, executed demolition works, have been a nightwatchman at a school, worked at a beach cafe, emptied containers filled with sardine cans, filled up sandboxes at a furniture boulevard, asked people to fill out questionnaires and designed slaughter machinery. Additionally I’ve had some more typical odd jobs such as delivering newspapers, moving stuff, working in the service industry and tending a garden (not my own).”

Have you learned things about your workplaces that people usually don’t know about?

“I’ve learned you never want to become an aircraft mechanic. I’ve seen them crawl into nauseatingly small holes. I’ve been inside the cockpit and in the sleeping quarters of the stewardesses (nice and cosy, particularly with the stewardesses). The pilot has a private toilet. I’ve walked underneath a Boeing. I’ve also learned people are incredibly vile and will turn anything that doesn’t belong to them into a disgusting mess. Next time you get in or out of a plane at Schiphol (Amsterdam Airport), pay attention and you might see the last cleaner come or go. They have 15 minutes to clean an aircraft (not much). I’ve also noticed that Asian airlines provide all passengers with gameboys.

Sledgehammer. Photo by http://www.flickr.com/people/jakeliefer/

Demolition is fun. I’ve rammed down walls, torn ceilings apart and ripped floor tiles out. And it was great. Magnificent anti-aggression therapy.

Also, asking people to enter a questionnaire is significantly less successful when you do so wearing a leather jacket.”

“When you think of these jobs, what do you remember most?

“My time at Schiphol was most memorable. Pleasant people, easy to have a laugh with. I was the only Dutchman there. The others were a mix of people from Suriname, Morocco and Turkey. They called me ‘the Czech’. Probably because I was speaking ‘laik dem’ after a week. That Moroccish automatically growns on you. They were quite a bunch of scum. Everything was finders keepers. That includes anything left in the kitchen. Sandwiches, fizzy drinks, booze… I’ve taken my share of things. To this day I eat using KLM cutlery.

Being a nightwatchman is a thoroughly boring job, especially when I discovered I had accidentally signed up for two subsequent shifts. Sixteen hours of web surfing. Thank goodness it was a school. I spent some time exhausting myself in the gym. And hung around the student lounge. I also practised stick fighting (you’ve got to do -something-).”

What do you think of Megan Fox?

“Dark-haired sprightly diva.”