GOOD

-Walking distance: One of the greatest advantages MIFF has is that every session is within easy walking distance of each other, with a decent number of cafe’s and take away joints along on the way.

-Filmmakers: I always enjoy listening to the filmmakers give an introduction, and this year there seemed to be quite a few around. Plus the director’s music choices on the DJ decks at the Forum was a really neat idea.

-Paperless tickets: Going green is the way of the future, so its great I don’t have to print my tickets and I can just scan my life (iPhone) at the door. But that does lead me to the first ‘Bad’ item…

BAD

-iPhone App: The app works ok until just as the que starts moving and then BAM! The app freezes, and you have to either restart your iPhone, delete and restore the app, or shake it until something happens (nothing actually happens, I tried) all before you reach that person holding the ticket scanner, it’s a race against time every time. Next year please design a more stable app, I think I installed the thing at least twenty times!

-The ‘haters’: Festival’s always seem to bring out the ‘haters’, those groups of people who can’t seem to find an ounce of good in anything. “Oh I hated the pacing”, “that character was the worst, I hated her”, “that red shoe on the background extra totally ruined the film for me, I hate it”, “the director’s choice of shots was totally not in line with the French New Wave style, I hated it, and I hate the French”, “the story arc was something straight from Robert McKee’s book, and I hate that book”… Film snobbery at its worst. I don’t understand why some people believe it’s more sophisticated, intelligent, or cool, to not like something. They look down on you because you really enjoyed the film, because obviously you just have no idea about cinema, you cinema-loving people disgust me…now let’s go see the next film that I can hate.

-Greater Union Cinema 6 front row: Talk about needing a chiropractor after having the luck of sitting here. I think several of my bones fused together and I walked out like the Hunchback of GU6, it’s not pretty, and it’s not a good way to enjoy a movie.

UGLY

-Dealing with a hangover: MIFF generally involves a couple of drinking sessions, I recommend you plan them out so you’re not stuck in a quiet and slow-moving documentary the next morning where your eyes are just a bulging red mass.

-Picnics: There are plenty of wide open spaces in Melbourne and some lovely parks, how about you take your picnic basket of food and eat it there instead of next to me in a dramatic intense film?! Do you really need to bring half of the Nando’s menu in with you?! No, you don’t. Eat before or eat after, it’s not a restaurant.

-Film projection at The Forum: In the year 2011 films generally come in two parts: the moving image and the sound. Please can you play both at the same time, in sync with each other. It makes the jungle members very restless. Thankyou.

MIFF isn’t just about seeing films, it’s about discussing the issues and themes in them, it’s about meeting up with friends or bumping into people you know, and it’s about seeing films that you wouldn’t normally see. My aim is always to see a variety, to cover the bases (Australia, the US, Europe, Asia), and to be inspired to create my own film journey. And this year, like last, I continued to do just that.

Now, my idea is to get a balanced set of films to view, with a little bit of everything. That doesn’t always go to plan because hey, I still have a job and a life during the festival (although for the next two weeks the life part is severely limited to a dark cinema and drinking copious amounts of coffee and/or alcohol).

The list below is in order of what I’ll be seeing and why. Also, its worth noting that at this time I am now taking coffee donations so if you see me slumped over a cinema seat, you know what to do.

Pool Party (USA)

A doco about an abandoned public pool that is converted into a music venue featuring artists such as the Beastie Boys and the Black Lips. A pretty cool idea, and I think a great fun way to start the festival.

El Velador (Mexico/USA)

Since 2007 nearly 35,000 people have been killed in Mexico’s drug war (which is insane), this is a story that is visually told and apparently has very little dialogue, following one of the narco-cemetery’s night-watchman as he makes his rounds over one night. I love anything Mexican, so I’m in. I’ll trade my coffee for a bottle of Sol for this screening.

Submarine (UK)

I knew this film would make MIFF (rather, I hoped), and it was at the top of my must-see list.  It’s described as an offbeat coming-of-age comedy film and there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding this film for quite a while now. Can’t wait for this!

The Innkeepers (USA)

This session at 11pm is really going to test me, but is probably the right time for an old-school style of horror film that MIFF describes as ‘Clerks’ meets ‘The Shining’.  The film is about two hotel staff that decide to investigate the rumours that their workplace may be haunted. Of course, being a horror film my bets are that the place actually is. Who needs sleep anyway right?

Norwegian Wood (Japan)

This film was included in MIFF’s early teaser called ‘First Glance’, and I was keen from the get go. Director Tran Anh Hung, a Vietnamese man who moved to France when he was young, and has won prizes at Cannes and been nominated for an Oscar in his career, has created a dark and haunting film about love and loss set in 1960′s Japan. Another one near the top of my must-see list.

Life In A Day (USA)

It says USA but really should read global, a film that is produced using uploaded YouTube clips from people all around the world that captured something they did on the 24th of July 2010. A great concept, and just watching the trailer gives you an idea of the scope and variety of work that was submitted. It looks not only incredibly interesting, but also really moving too.

Cold Fish (Japan)

Director Sion Sono has two feature films playing at MIFF, this is one of them, and is described as an unrelenting gore-drenched pitch-black comedy. That description alone got me buying the ticket, my crazy pick for the festival.

Accelerator Shorts 1 (Australia/New Zealand)

You can’t attend a film festival without including a short film session. The variety and quality of short films is amazing, and this year I’m sure it’ll be no different to the great choices of last year. Filmmakers who have films playing in the Accelerator sessions are all guests of the festival and go through a special program while attending. I can’t make the second session but I’m really looking forward to seeing some Aussie talent on display here.

She Monkeys (Sweden)

The winner of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival award for Best Film, She Monkeys is the debut feature from Lisa Aschan and is described as a ‘nuanced and provocative study of young female desire’. Tribeca usually has good taste so I’m keen to check this one out.

Wendall Thomas Talks Scripts Series – Making A Scene: The Magic & Mechanics of Scene Structure

As someone who loves to write, and one day hopes to have a few films under my belt, this is a must. Unfortunately due to work I can’t attend the whole series but I think a session about scene structure is probably what I need most right now, so I have my notepad ready.

X (Australia)

The other film at the top of my must-see list is X, Jon Hewitt’s new one, and he is one filmmaker I really like. I can’t wait for this, it’s first Australian screening. A gritty dark film that is described as explicit, raw, and relentless. Hanna Mangan-Lawrence (in her most mature role yet) plays a callgirl who finds herself and another callgirl in the wrong room at the wrong time, and this one night suddenly takes a deadly turn. Bring it on.

Attenberg (Greece)

It’s not all negative economy talk in the Olympic homeland, and this film (named after a reference to  Sir David Attenborough),  is said to be an absurd offbeat exploration of sex and death. And who can argue with that?

Another Earth (USA)

I love the story of this film production, the 12 crew go away to shoot at some country town in the states where they had no mobile reception for 15 days and their associate producer cooked breakfast every morning for the cast and crew -that is indie filmmaking at its best, and it’s these stories I find really inspiring for my own ideas. Featuring at Sundance Film Festival this year, the film is about the discovery of ‘another Earth’ orbiting our own that appears to be an exact mirror image of everything and everyone here. At the same time, astrophysics student Rhonda drives into an oncoming vehicle killing the family inside. After she’s released from prison, she seeks out the surviving father, determined to find some sort of penance, and maybe use this new world above her as a way to escape her past. I love the idea of ‘what if there is an exact replica of you’ in the universe and what that would change. It’s the perfect film to finish my MIFF 2011 on.

What are your choices? Are you going? Check out the program at www.miff.com.au

Need a rapper? Pitbull is available for hire. You just need to have an uptempo mindless pop song, with a recognised singer attached, and give total ‘creative’ freedom to the rapper so he can write his own lyrics. For an example of the song type see Jennifer Lopez’s ‘On The Floor’. Pitbull is everywhere right now, but unlike past rappers who made music that continues to survive and carry somewhat of a meaning (see Tupac, Biggie), Pitbull is more interested in milking as much cash as he can as quickly as he can. It doesn’t phase him that he continues to defy all common sense by even landing a rapping gig for starters, or that by selling his musical soul does he guarantee that his career will bomb as soon as the next Rapper For Hire appears. So in honour of this inevitable outcome, I have put together my own rap, with the goal of one day becoming that next Rapper For Hire. The twist here is, and it’s a good one, I’ve used ACTUAL lyrics from Pitbull to create my first rap verse. Yep, you might be thinking I’m just ripping him off or infringing on his so-called intellectual property rights, but I prefer to think of it more as an homage, or in plain popular musical terms: ‘sampling’. Let me know what you all think, I’m very sure Sony Music is going to be all over this for J-Ho’s next hit, or even Britney’s next album -one can only live in hope. I’ve even came up with a catchy youthful title so that it captures the tween market, that’s my retirement right there.

“Badonka Donk”

Your man just left, I’m the plumber tonight

I’ll check yo pipes, oh, you the healthy type

Well, here goes some egg whites

Think about it

I hit the jackpot check, check, check, check, check, check , ching

Come DJ that’s my DJ, I’m a Miami boy…you know how we play

My family is from Cuba, but I’m an American Idol

Gettin’ money like Seacrest

Let’s party on the White House lawn, Tiger woods’ tired of Jesse James

Here goes Pitbull all night long, pick up Barack and Michelle and let’em know that’s it’s on

I’ve been to countries and cities I can’t pronounce

And the places on the globe I didn’t know existed

In Romania she pulled me to the side and told me Pit you can have me and my sister

In Lebanon yeah the women are bomb

And in Greece you’ve guessed it the women are sweet

‘Cause if you slip, I’m gonna fall on top of your girl

Yea right picture that with a Kodak

And better yet, go to Times Square

Take a picture of me with a Kodak

Get naked baby

I’m sorry chica

Better holla at Tyronne

Let him know how I jump through your foot loop scolla chica two can

We’re from blocka blocka o polaca

Where the boys loose like a wacka flaca

Ooh no man, its global was’up Colale flaca

I wanna be your giant no not your dada

And back it up like a Tonka truck

That badonka donk is like a trunk full of bass on an old school Chevy

I see you watching me, you see me watchin’ you

And everybody knows I get off the train

Baby it’s the truth

I’m like inception I play with your brain

So I don’t sleep I snoozzzzze.

I must admit it was love at first sight when I saw you from across the car yard. You had a pretty blue glow, and a sunroof that said “take me to the beach”. I had visions of us cruising endless highways along the coast, wind sweeping through my hair, a pretty girl next to me, the dog (wait, make that a puppy) in the back, heading towards summer bliss. You performed so well on that day that I knew we had to be together, if only I had known that you were just a collection of broken promises (parts). I wanted those dreams of our future to be real, I took you home as fast as I could. It was only a few days after we became official that we had our first fight, you threw a hissy fit and I had to tow you back to the yard. I forgave you, I mean, it was our first and I wasn’t about to end it so quickly. I gave so much to you Pug, but you never gave anything in return. You constantly broke down, and just took and took. Relationships are about give and take, and you baby were all take. I fixed every one of your problems, and I remained positive as they mounted up, even when your sunroof stopped working crushing my dream of endless sunshine. Everyone told me to break up with you, my family, my friends, my boss, I kept thinking that after each problem that it would be the last, but you kept going at me, like a stubborn little  brat. I compare you to like meeting a beautiful girl at a bar, she seduces with her gorgeous looks, only to go home and find out she is a total bitch. That’s right Pug, your personality stinks, your constant warning signs, power fluctuations, your lack of consistency, I don’t know why you made it so hard for us, and why I stayed with you for so long.

So now, this 2 year relationship (ordeal) has come to its inevitable end. I’ve found someone else, it’s true. As I took my last drive with you, I asked why you had done this, why you shattered my dreams and hopes and why you found it so hard to make it work (or just work, period). Your only answer was your engine warning light, and that was enough to prove that I had finally made the right choice. We could have been something, you and I Pug, I hope you enjoy your time as scrap metal.

Love,

Rob.

Not our day: Australian’s are great at propagating things from other cultures, we’ve basically done that with everything good from New Zealand, and like when two ‘mates’ help each other out we call that uniquely Australian -it isn’t. So we’ve taken to St Patty’s day and embraced it whole heartily because it fulfils two of Australia’s treasures: 1, beer, and 2, lots of beer. According to the 2006 census,  50,256 people in Australia were born in Ireland, and there were about 12 million people in the Irish pubs yesterday, I’m no maths brain but I’d say the percentage of those who were actually Irish would be fairly low (*the 12 million is purely an estimate). And don’t give me the whole my ‘great great grandmother’s auntie’s best friend was Irish so that’s how I’m Irish’, that’s like to say I’m African because my primordial ancestors migrated from there…!

-Green hats: They look ridiculous. That is all.

-Bogans: Whenever something becomes popular, e.g a music festival, the bogan swarm attacks on mass. Like locusts, they move in, destroy what was once there, and then move on to the next crop. St Patty’s day is a bogan excuse for doing what it likes to do best: getting drunk, getting more drunk, getting rowdy, punching on, getting kicked out, then vomiting.

-Irish pubs: They are everywhere, all around the world, and I don’t understand the appeal. They are usually dark and damp, smell like piss, filled with old dudes who haven’t been able to see their feet in decades, and have a number of crappy old beers on tap.

-Guinness: This might cause some controversy but Guinness is…wait for it… crap. It’s like drinking dark, thick, bitter soup that causes your stomach to bloat and your ass to expel it. Its like if you ordered a really shit dessert, liquefied it, and then attempted to drink it. And your other choice, for the St Patty’s enthusiast is… Victoria Bitter, obviously Irish. It does have green in the logo though, does that count?

So I’ll stay on the outside when it comes to St Patty’s day, nothing against the Irish, but I’d rather not spend my day expelling crap beer that has added an extra 5kg’s to my body weight, dodging through crowds of smelly dudes in green singlet tops and trying not to look them in the eye in case they swing a punch, and then getting to the toilet and realising nobody has used the urinal. Call me soft, call me boring, call me a prude, tell me to lighten up, but I still won’t be taking part. The problem is, both St Patty’s and Australia Day are already ruined, what have we got left? Queens Birthday? Get me a scon and a pint of beer, pronto.

Best vampire TV SHOW -don’t stake

Angel

I know this choice is going to have Buffy fans throwing holy water in my direction, but once Angel hit its stride it was clearly a better show and Joss Whedon was at his writing best. I miss you!

Best vampire FILM -don’t stake

Let The Right One In (Swedish version)

This film is amazing. It’s not like any other vampire film you’ve ever seen, and probably features the best performance by two kids I’ve ever witnessed. I was left thinking about this film for weeks after it, I couldn’t get it out of my head. See it, now. -P.S, the American version isn’t so bad either.

Best vampire CHARACTER -don’t stake

This one’s tough, my personal favourite would be Spike from both Buffy and Angel, he is equally useless as he is funny. But I also like Eric from True Blood, he’s not as tragically romantic as Bill is, and he is one super tough vampire. Let’s call it a vampire tie. Someone get Bill a tissue already.

The WORST vampires -stake

Twilight (all of them)

Any vampire that ‘sparkles’ in the sun instead of burning to a crisp is not a real vampire, you are dead and you feed on blood, this ain’t the Mardi Gras parade! But they do hold one secret weapon: when they speak their dialogue can actually kill you, or burn your ears, or simply act as a cure for insomnia.

Best vampire BAND -don’t stake

Vampire Weekend

So technically these guys aren’t actually vampires, but hey, they play cool music and have vampire in their name. And I needed another category here.

Worst vampire CLOTHES -stake

Blade

Looks like he stole his trenchcoat from the set of The Matrix, please return it, now.

Best vampire TITLE -don’t stake/stake

Lesbian Vampire Killers

My question is, where are all the lesbians in this movie? Great title, terrible film.

TIGHTEST vampire outfit -don’t stake

Kate Beckinsale (Underworld series)

I’m surprised Kate could breathe in that outfit, or move, without ripping it. Although, that’s not a half bad decent thought. Kate was on an oxygen diet during filming, and she still cut back on that too.

The CHEESE Award -stake

Van Helsing

Oh god bless Hollywood when they think of a good idea and then TOTALLY FUCK IT UP! I give you, Van Helsing, what a mess.

HOTTEST vampire cast -don’t stake

The Vampire Diaries: It’s the same channel that produces Smallville, so of course you’d expect style over substance, and this oozes style, but features more CW style teen soap opera ‘she stole my boyfriend’ drama then one could poke a stake out. Still, if you watch it on mute it’s mildly entertaining.

So now you have a start, although by the time I finish writing this everyone has probably moved onto something else already, vampires will be suddenly uncool, zombies will be on the way out, and we’ll be watching movies about teen singing sensations who are secretly robots from other dimensions. Shit, I think that has already started, does garlic work on Justin Bieber?

I received a bit of flack for my last post on ‘the lie that is Santa Clause’, mostly from my Mum, because she and others believe that I am too cynical. Now, a cynic would never admit to being cynical, they would say they were pragmatic or a realist, so I couldn’t agree with them on that, so pragmatics join me, and vote NO to New Years Eve Resolutions.

I could start by pointing out the irony in many of the popular resolutions made and those who make them but I fucking hate the word ‘irony’, every man and his barking dog uses that word, “oh look that new place the Smith’s built just burned down, how ironic” its not ironic at all you fucking idiot, it’s tragic and sad and a terrible freakin accident. Alanis Morissete has a lot to answer for, she managed to fool everyone and after winning a godzillion awards for that one album she disappeared off the musical landscape, how ironic.

There are three main types of resolutions made on New Years Eve. Type 1 involves money, type 2 involves food (or lack of), and type 3 involves alcohol. They are all made at a time when the person is splurging on one of those types, or all of them. “I’m going to save more money”, what he says after paying $150 just to walk in the door on NYE at his local pub that on any other night is free. “I’m going to diet this year”, while she munches on deep fried cocktail food being served around at below room temperature. And finally resolution type 3, alcohol, or more to the point, giving up on alcohol. So at 6pm you declare you’re giving up the ‘drink’ in the new year, for a select period of time of course, and then by 1am you can’t even remember your girlfriend’s name or see the wall in front of you. Resolutions always begin on the 2nd of January you see, and are usually finished by the 4th. Why does it take the biggest over-hyped night of the year for people to make promises to themselves to treat their own bodies with more respect? Or their bank balance? Why not make a resolution to yourself in March, or July, or October? Its like people decide they must enter the following year with a plan of attack, a plan to change, but its only 1 night, it’s just the change of a calendar year, the Chinese even have their own. Earth just keeps rotating whether you decide to cut back your KFC intake or not. It’s the same deal as when the day after your birthday some douchebag asks you whether you ‘feel older’, no dickhead I feel the same way as yesterday but now I got a silver freakin watch on my wrist.

So the point of all of this is that I’d like to stop the New Years Eve Resolution making, just stop it. We all know come the end of the week you’ll be joking with your friends about how you resolved to stop drinking and wow-we, look at you you’re drinking. It’s almost like a game where you can challenge your friends as to how many days you can keep your resolution, and everybody loses. I decided not to make a resolution at all, which now that I think about it, is actually a resolution, I made a resolution to not make a resolution, but my resolution is one that I can keep. Isn’t it ironic? No it isn’t.

Do you remember when you discovered the truth? You’re either the first kid or the last one, and if you’re the first you’re a party pooper and if you’re the last kid then you’re a little slow. How did it feel? Devastating. It’s like your whole world comes crashing down. The very people you look to for guidance and lessons on how to be a good person have been lying to you since day one about where your ‘made in china’ toys come from. The problem with lying is that one lie always leads to another and another, it’s like a cascade of lies that will only ever end with a truthful confession. “Dad, why doesn’t Santa write back to my letters?” “He’s very busy” “How do the toys get made” “Well the little elfs make them in their toy factory” “Mum, how does Santa fit down the chimney? “Ask your father” “Mum, did you really see Santa in the sky?” “Yes of course I did, now go to bed” “Dad, why does Santa now like drinking beer instead of milk?” “So Santa can put up with your mother -actually, go to bed and don’t ask questions”.

All these lies keep going until an impossible back story has been created that you’ll eventually trip up on and then you’ll have to lie again to cover your mistake, and all this while asking your children to tell the truth about who punched the neighbour’s kid. Even more horrible is the example Santa sets for equality and fairness in the world. Santa is a true capitalist, he rewards the rich kids with more presents, and doesn’t bother with the poor ones or anyone living in Africa. I’m sure everyone when they were young has had that moment where after running out onto the street to compare presents with the others, you realise the kid next door got a way better bike than you and it’s left you thinking that maybe Santa loves him more and that you’re not as special. Santa also outsources his toy making to China and India which puts all the elf’s out of work (what are the jockey’s of this world going to do in the off-season?), and then uses an army of posers to invade shopping centres and juggle kids on their knees. He then goes on to sing a chorus ‘Ho Ho Ho’ which he learnt one drunken Saturday night when Mrs Clause was out, AND Santa doesn’t even believe in eating healthy or else why would he continue to be so overweight? He is a terrible role model, and not the kind of person you want handing out gifts to your children. Have you not seen the film Bad Santa?

After reading some of my points, and considering the importance of raising our children with values of truth and honesty, how can we possibly continue to carry on with this great big lie?

Merry Christmas.

It’s hard to define yourself as any one thing, humans by nature are hypocritical and their behaviour often does not reflect their beliefs nor the words that they speak. I’ve been asked many times to try to explain, or describe myself. Guys and girls have told me that I’m difficult to work out, sometimes I take that as a compliment. How do you define yourself? Instead of writing some self-important bio that sells all my good traits in a short paragraph, I thought about the CD album’s that I relate to the most, the album’s that when I hear them everything I feel, believe, and think are summed up in the music and words.

For me, there are a few  albums that I could listen to on repeat every day of the year, they are the albums and songs that strike at the core of who I am and how I feel, it’s the albums that put my emotions and beliefs into words and arrangements, and that if anyone ever asked me to define who I am, I should hand them the following albums and say listen. These are the albums that I relate to the most, the ones that speak for me, and the ones that have defined certain times in my life. I haven’t filtered them to look cool or hip or anything snobby like that, they are what they are.

Jimmy Eat World: Futures

More than any other album, Futures affects me like no other. It’s like Jimmy Eat World reached deep down inside of my soul in my early 20′s and pulled these songs out from there. I regard Futures as one of my favourite albums of all time and it’s criminal it wasn’t embraced by the public as much as it should have been, or was tucked away into the ‘emo’ section of CD stores never to be discovered. The songs ‘Polaris’ and ’23′ are the highlights for me, they are the songs that I hear in my head. I dare anyone to put aside their bias and the limitations of classifying Jimmy as ‘emo’ and listen to these songs without having an immediate flashback to the angst of their teen years and early 20′s, and plus, it’s just a really great listen.

John Mayer: Room for Squares

This album is pretty special, it’s a rarity that you’ll find songs and lyrics that are spoken so honestly and tell stories in the so-called commercial music world. John sings from the heart, he tells it as it is, and shares all the innocence and navity of first time experiences. John says and does things that I say and do too, except he can sing them, whereas I sound like a drowning cat if I do. John Mayer is an arrogant womanizer, but he wears his heart on his sleeve and bares his soul for all to tread on and I guess that’s how I’ve lived parts of my life too. Have a listen to ‘City Love’, and my personal favourites ’3×5′ and ‘Back to You’.

Motor Ace: Animal

Motor Ace ended their time as a band after this album, shame because it’s an incredible listen, one that saw them mature and try a totally different sound, one that filled the spaces in between and soared to new levels. I could listen to opening track ‘Want You’ over and over again, it reminds me of the best kind of summer holiday romances. Take a listen to ‘Ordinary Day’ and ‘No Place To Go’, the band sounds so in harmony, shame they weren’t outside of the studio.

Robbie Williams: The Ego Has Landed

No other artist can ooze smooth, cool, and then also lay his feelings out to bear like Robbie Williams can, and this album does it better than any other. I relate to Robbie so well, much the same as John Mayer, one minute I’m as cocky as a stage-man like he is, and the next I’m a confused emotional mess like he is too, and that’s how this album goes, swinging from arrogance to despair, from confidence to just wanting to be accepted. Future albums of his go a bit too commercial, but this album is an incredible listen, especially ‘Lazy Days’, ‘Angels’, ‘Win Some Loose Some’, and ‘She’s the One’.

Something For Kate: Echolalia

This album requires so many listens to fully grasp the complexity of it all, but every listen rewards with something new. Some songs resonate with you so well that it plucks at something so deep you didn’t realise it was there, and that’s what ‘Monsters’ and ‘Three Dimensions’ do for me. Monsters gives me goose bumps, literally, and Paul’s (lead singer) voice wavers in the air for moments after the song has finished. Amazing work.

Craig David: Born to Do It

Moving onto something a little more fun, Craig was cool when this album was released. He had the right amount of street cred, smoothness, charm, and bad boy antics that made everyone want to be like him. More importantly, each song on this album told a story, it was about something or someone, and it felt like he had lived the stories he sung about. There’s a painful honesty in ‘Walking Away’ that is so much more than just a commercial ballad. Shame his future albums were nothing like this one.

Jamiroquai: A Funk Odyssey

This isn’t my favourite Jamiorquai album, but it’s the one that introduced me to the ‘Man in the Hat’, and thank-you for that because I now own every album of his and if I want to listen to something that makes me feel like opening the sunroof and driving down a coastal highway this is it. The perfect summer album, and Jay Kay’s ultra smooth Stevie Wonder like voice is so good to listen to. Highlights include ‘Love Foolosophy’ and ‘Main Vein’.

After this semi-confessional, it’s time to turn back to having a drink…and to put some music on.

This phenomenon is so widespread it’s impossible to avoid. Ugliness is like a disability, it should be listed under  antidiscrimination laws (cannot discriminate against unfortunate looking people). You see it all the time, especially in retail and hospitality employment: the boss interviews one person who has 5 pages worth of experience, and then interviews the next person who possibly can’t spell their own name but they are so god damn good-looking that hey presto, they get the job. The evil people in cosmetic surgery should set up camp outside of job interviews, “sorry hunny you didn’t get the position, it’s not that you weren’t right for it, it’s just that your face makes people want to cower and run, so here is our pamphlet on how to change your screw-up face into something, well, less horrid”.

One glaring example of this cultural condition is entry to nightclubs. If you’re hot you basically have the red carpet laid out for you when you arrive. Oh so there’s 800 people waiting in line, don’t worry about it, come right in. Police fall victim to it too, they pull some lady over who was doing 110km per hour in a 40 zone, took out three street signs and a street side souvlaki vender but when they reach the driver with their guns raised, it’s all ok, she’s hot, don’t worry about it, that souvlaki vender was shit anyway.

It’s like dating someone who is stunning, and the little things that usually would annoy the crap through you, suddenly seem totally forgivable because your partner is so hot to look at. Ok so her personality is more plain than a blank piece of paper, but I’m kinda speechless when she takes her clothes off, and people that IS the important part here.

It’s human nature to be attracted to things that you find attractive (well, obviously), so we can blame nature when the bus crashes and we help the hot chick out of the burning wreckage and leave the ugly one fighting her own way out.  I can’t help it, my cultural conditioning forces me to do it. Imagine if beggars were hot, they would end up millionaires: ok so you stink like a dead possum, your eyes are as glazed over as Lindsay Lohan’s on a good day, and you’re sitting in the middle of the footpath but you’re shit hot, here’s my wallet and credit card. At least then they could afford deodorant.