Monday, 11 April 2011

A Word About Writing Satire And Logical Progression

I have been known to pen the occasional satirical piece in my time, and have enjoyed a modicum of success in this most dishonourable of pursuits. As is the case with some of my fellow satirists, I have had skits, rumours, and outright lies published on genuine news websites, and even in the national press.

As my mate Seaton Carew will attest - it's pretty funny sometimes when you see something that you've made up off the top of your head be picked up on and reported as 'news.'

Seaton did a classic today - reported a celeb/sportsman wedding taking place on the 31st of June. Slack work by sub-editors is no excuse - they were suckered in good and proper. Top marks to the chilli munching man with the silver shoes!

So - how do you become successful as a satirist? And why would you want to anyway? You don't get paid for it - but it seems that internet satire writing is all important for some individuals, for reasons known only to themselves.

To start with - it's easy. It doesn't take long to realise that the most popular internet satire stories concern either some form of sexual innuendo, or a celebrity or two, and if you can successfully combine the two into an attention grabbing headline, then you're quids in. (Not literally - people don't get paid for this stuff as a rule) but you may well get your name placed near the top of a list.

Which is all well and good, but if somebody wants to get better at what they do, then they need to move on from that initial adrenalin rush of success, and branch out into other, more ambitious attempts. It just seems utterly pointless to me, churning out gallons of slop stories about teen celebrities, day after day after day, just so that you can look at some chart and say "Yes! I am number one!"

Being number one is a hollow achievement - and I'm not saying this because I'm bitter or resentful in any way (I've been number one on a popular website several times since I joined it) but I don't see the point of churning out mindlessly repetetive rubbish which is essentially the same story with the same vaguely suggestive title ad nauseum.

There's really no point. It doesn't make anybody a top writer, satirist, humourist, or even remotely funny because they can churn out a sexually suggestive title involving much googled celebrities. No matter how many 'hits' stories like that can garner, the percentage of people who have been duped by a headline and rapidly move on, without even bothering to read the article in question must number in the high nineties.

Times change, and things (and themes) move on. The thing is, that if anybody has the temerity to suggest any kind of change, in the interests of natural progression, they get shouted down and almost witch hunted by the people who don't want creativity or innovation.

And some people will fight to the death to maintain their meaningless positions in a meaningless chart. They really will. They cry: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!" from the rooftops. And plough the same tired furrow. Over, and over, and over, and over again.

Which could be interpreted with a degree of understanding (some people just won't accept progress at any price) were it not for the fact that sometimes these individuals can become incredibly vindictive.

I had first hand experience of that this week when a one time Facebook friend and so-called top writer defriended me and flagged my stuff as offensive on that website. Now I can't put things up on there for a few ex-work colleagues who enjoy my silly little stories.

Amazing the lengths some people will go to.

Which is partly why I post this blog today. Given a choice, I'd much rather read Seaton Carew's excellent June 31st wedding jape than some crap about Russell Brand being pulled by airport security for having porno mags in his luggage, or about some pervert reheating teen celeb's underwear in a microwave so that he can sniff said articles "as if fresh..."

And I get flagged on Facebook for being offensive?

Sadly, these are the lengths some people will go to, in order to stay at the top of a cloud cuckooland chart.

It's all rather sad.


Monday, 4 April 2011

Talking Utter Shit On The Internet

Fair enough - the internet is a wonderful thing. It gives everybody a voice, the opportunity to comment, express an opinion, get things off their chests. It allows people to ask questions, conduct research, gain knowledge, and be entertained.

So...I've been having a look around today...And what do I find?

Let's kick off with comments on newspaper articles on news websites...

"They should of hung him!"

Of? They should of hung him?

What happened to 'have'? They should have hung him. Or...more correctly...they should have hanged him?

It's scary when you look around at the standard of linguistic ignorance which is all to often displayed. But you know what really pisses me off? I should add before I move on, that these aren't my exclusive views or opinions - they're based on comments I've gathered from a variety of sources...

The internet forum.

I like the forums, and I'm an avid participant. If I think of something relevant, or vaguely amusing to slip into a discussion, then I'll do it. What I won't do is just put up something utterly irrelevant, just for the sake of announcing my presence.


That really fucking irritates me. LOL - what the fuck is that? I write stuff for various sites which is intended to amuse and poke fun - one comment I dread reading about what I've done is fucking LOL!

I'd much rather somebody say - "That wasn't funny. Get a life. Get a job. Sort yourself out you sad git and stop posting fucking shite on the internet. You PRICK!"

Anything's better than fucking LOL.

Then you get people saying shit like:

"I can't really comment on this because I don't understand it."

Really? So why comment? Why not leave comments to people who do get the fucking point? Stop fucking announcing to the world what a fuckwit you really are. We don't need to hear it.

Likewise the dickheads who try to get people playing silly fucking games...guess who I am? Guess what I do? Guess the weight of my testicles?

Fuck off! If I wanted to know shit like that, I'd email and ask you.

It's like you get idiots posting messages on comedy websites about the death penalty.

Fuck off! Put it on the death penalty website. Pillocks...

Just sayin'

Sunday, 3 April 2011

Friends - I Don't Even Know 'Em!

I've just been having a look on that social networking site thingy. You know the one - it involves a book and a face, not to mention a never ending parade of utter shite.

Not that it's all bad - there are a few people on there who I read about from time to time, and a few interesting things, like photographic studies and links and blogs, but I'm still confused as to how I got some God bothering woman from the deep south of the USA who keeps leaving shit on my wall telling me that Jesus loves me.

I don't know why she keeps putting shit like that up on my wall, I mean, it's just fucking depressing! One minute she's telling me that Jesus loves me, and in the next sentence she's asking me to pray for her fat fuck of a friend who suffered an "unexpected and sudden" coronary at the age of 41, potentially leaving behind seventeen kids with mullets, a trailer, and a distraught tobacco-chewing husband.

It's fuck all to do with me!

Honestly...I'd just tell the silly cow to "fuck off" but I'm a bit of a soft touch really, so I just ignore her.

Then there's another silly American woman who must play games on there or something - she keeps sending me heart shaped boxes of chocolates, asking me to look after various animals and requesting I send her some oxen or something...Fuck knows how that came about.

So anyway, the wife was having her traditional Sunday afternoon siesta, and as I'm suspended from writing on one website, I thought I'd have a quick look at the social networking one.

There's a guy I used to work with who's looking for lurrrrve on the site, and he really is a nice guy, so I accepted him as a 'friend' and now, everything he puts out in public comes up on my wall. Which usually consists of pictures of scantily clad Eastern European women, accompanied by the comment:

"Nice legs! LOL"

I'm sure that'll reel 'em in...

I do twat on a bit sometimes....anyway...

I looked at this thing on the social networking site that said "people you might know" and inviting me to "add as a friend."

I mean, I'm not a miserable fucker, or a recluse, or any of that bollocks - I can be quite sociable occasionally - especially if it involves good company and copious quantities of alcohol, but this list read like a who's who of various relatives I rarely see, and their friends.

I can't be arsed with that. If I want to talk to them I'll call them or pay them a visit. I mean, just because we propped the bar up at a funeral seven years ago and had a laugh doesn't really make you a 'friend.'

Then I scanned the lists - apparently I share mutual friends with various stand-up comedians, journalists, writers, actors, musicians, celebrities, sportsmen...

Fuck all to do with me. Any of 'em. Maybe indirectly there's some tenuous link... but to be honest, I can't imagine inviting Garry Bushell, or Felix Dexter, or James Whale round ours of a Sunday evening to watch the Spanish football on the box, and share a few Stellas and a kebab.

Maybe I should put them in touch with the God botherer...

Nice legs! LOL!

More later.