Freight Train

Not wanting to end the year on a sour note, I decided to make a brief video of one of my model trains running on an oval of track I set up in the front room - a sort of trip down memory lane, of when as a kid I'd set up the train set on the living room floor.  The results aren't too impressive - stalling locomotives, de-railing wagons and poor lighting rather spoiled the effect.  (Naturally, when the camera wasn't on, the locomotive managed perfect circuits of the track).  The sparking from underneath the Standard Five is testament to the fact that I still haven't properly sorted out its pick-ups.  Another job for next year.

Anyway, a Happy New Year to all.  See you in 2026. 

Fake Retrospectives

Going by the mainstream media, now is the time when we should be reviewing the year past, revisiting the stories of the past twelve months.  In the case of much of the media this is pretty pointless as, to be frank, they basically make up much of what they print.  Or at the very least 'embellish' the story in order to make it fit their particular prejudices.  Their recent reporting of the Boxing Day sales reinforced my conviction that they write many stories about this sort of event in advance and simply disregard the actual facts.  They were reporting on Boxing Day itself that sales were disastrously down and it was all the Labour government's fault.  Except that, according to later reports, a surge in sales later in the day resulted in higher overall sales than in 2024.  Not that most of them bothered either amending their original reports or putting that out as a new story.  Like I said - they just don't care about actual facts, especially if they contradict their pre-existing prejudices.  Which means that their retrospective reviews of the year are utterly meaningless, unless they present them as reviews of the best lies they've printed over the past twelve months.  You'll excuse my cynicism, but after watching the UK's dismal performance over the past year, it is difficult to feel anything else.  The only consolation I take from it all is that the traditional media in the UK - the right-wing press, talk radio and that gaggle of neo-Nazi TV 'news' stations - are becoming less and less relevant, with fewer and fewer people reading, listening or watching them.  The bad news, though, is that more and more people seem to be getting their 'news' from the web - and not from actual news sites, but from unchecked social media accounts.

With the apparent decline in the critical faculties of the population - who now seem to unquestioningly swallow everything that some 'influencer' (who can be any sketchy character with a YouTube channel, TikTok or Twitter account), tells them.  Which, of course, is the other side of the coin, the 'dumbing down' of state education to ensure that the young are never taught any form of critical thinking in the first place.  This is particularly blatant in Trump's America, where the dismantling of public education is a central plank of the administration's crusade to eliminate the possibility of being any competing view point which might challenge the orthodoxy of 'Trumpism'.  But you can see it happening elsewhere - we had fourteen years of right-wing Tory governments here in the UK doing their best to undermine education's role in teaching students to think for themselves and question orthodoxy, after all.  It's an old, old story - the twisting of education into a form of indoctrination in order to reinforce and perpetuate the tenets of the ruling regime.  In the past, it was characteristic of authoritarian and totalitarian regimes like Nazi Germany or the Soviet Union, but it is a policy which has gradually seeped into supposedly liberal and democratic regimes.  As ever, the US has been a leader in this - American education during the Cold War focused on indoctrinating young America into the idea that rapacious capitalism was the only legitimate form of economic activity, that, if left to flourish unencumbered by regulation, the market could provide citizens with all their needs: adequate housing, education, healthcare and so on.  Not so much the vaunted 'American Dream' as the 'American Fantasy'.  But, as ever, I have digressed.  As you've doubtless gleaned, I'm not going to be presenting any retrospectives of the past year either here, or over at The Sleaze.  Instead, as the New Year approaches, I've determined to look resolutely to the future and hope that we can make it better than the past year.

Christmas TV of Yesteryear

See, I was right, wasn't I?  About how shitty the TV Christmas schedules were this year, that is.  In fact, they were even more painful to experience than they were to read about in advance.  Not surprisingly, they resulted in low viewing figures.  I'd like to think that this would stand as a wake up call for the likes of BBC and ITV and that next Christmas they'll serve us up a cornucopia of televisual delights.  But somehow I doubt it.  Looking at the shit we got served up in the guise of 'Christmas' specials, it occurred to me that much of the problem lies in the fact that the main networks no longer make the sort of shows on a regular basis that they used to be able to spin successful and popular Christmas versions off of.  Sitcoms, for instance - there are seemingly so few successful and popular sitcoms in production on the BBC and ITV these days, that the number of Christmas versions wouldn't make a dent on the festive schedules.  Likewise, star comedy shows like Morecambe and Wise or The Two Ronnies - they just don't have modern equivalents, so festive versions of these are also lost to the seasonal schedules.  Instead, we get an endless parade of 'Christmas' editions of brainless game shows and cookery shows, which either means regular editions with a bit of tinsel on them, or 'Celebrity' versions, with a bunch of Z-listers competing for 'charity'.  So, the answer to producing a decent Christmas schedule is to, well, produce decent programming all year around.  Which is something I just don't see happening.

In the event, I got a satisfying dose of the TV Christmas of yesteryear from watching the 'Retro Strange' Roku app.  'Retro Strange' is a free channel that streams a variety of old, public domain weird shit, from movies to public information films.  Thanks to them, I got to experience a slice of fifties and sixties US Christmas TV.  I have to say that 'Miracle on 34th Street' was far more palatable as a forty-five minute TV adaptation than it was as a film (either version, as both feel overlong, stretching out a thin idea to seemingly interminable length).  I also got to meet 'Spunky the Snowman'.  Not, as the title might imply to us Brits, a softcore porn version of 'Frosty the Snowman', but another Christmas-themed cartoon of a slightly earlier vintage aimed at kids.  It concerns an heroic snowman trying to get a child's letter to Santa, despite the efforts of an owl, a wolf and a fox to stop him and steal the letter.  He's assisted in his quest by a bear and a puppy.  Upon a bit of further research, it turns out that 'Spunky' was a re-edited and dubbed version of a Russian cartoon called 'The Snow Postman'.  Even in its truncated form (it was cut down from nearly twenty minutes to a seven minute running time), it is actually a quite charming little film.  Coincidentally, this Christmas I also saw 'Frosty the Snowman' again, for the first time since I saw it as a kid in the early seventies.  I have to say that, as an adult, I found it considerably less charming than I had as a seven or eight year old.   I also stumbled across a sequel to 'Frosty', titled 'Frosty's Winter Wonderland', which I never knew existed.  I wish I still didn't know it existed.  Apparently, it was the first of several such completely unnecessary sequels apparently designed to ruin treasured Christmas memories.

 

Merry Christmas

It's Christmas Eve, so there's only one thing left to say: 'Merry Christmas'.  It's been a troubling year for me, I'm tired, feeling under the weather and just want to put my feet up.  So, I'm taking a few days off from posting here.  See you on the other side, folks.

Sleaze's Greetings

In the spirit of the UK's print media at this time of year - not being arsed to actually produce anything substantive in the run-up to Christmas - today's offering is the latest piece of audio from The Sleaze, which you can listen to here:

                                                                 Sleaze's Greetings 

Time to slip on those ear goggles once more and tune in to this compendium of seasonal sleaze, culled from the archives of

The Sleaze.

Not only do we have excerpts from Luigi Spagnotti's seminal shockumentary 'Mondo Christmas', but we also have some specially recorded seasonal messages from the stars, while controversial director Henry Jagoff discuses his festive-themed new release: 'Black Santa'.

Also on offer is a strange reminiscence about a bizarre Christmas tradition and a dramatic performance of  'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' from Vincent Price and Peter Lorre.

So, get those ear goggles on, sit back and let that seasonal sleaze wash over you!

Written and produced by Doc Sleaze.

 

Seasonal Fatigue and Video Piracy

We're at that stage when, with Christmas itself a few days away, newspapers start to go into holiday mode.  With many of their staff on holiday, the rest probably permanently pissed from Christmas parties, actually reporting the news becomes a terrible burden to them.  Their supplements are suddenly filled with lazy articles listing 'top tens' of the year, the 'Best of' of the year and top tips for lighting your Christmas pudding, instead of their regular features.  All these, of course, were probably written weeks, if not months, ago, so really, no effort at all is going into producing those supplemental sections.  Not that i'm criticising them - it's Christmas and nobody can be arsed to start anything before the New Year.  In fact, I'm envious, as I'd love to have a stockpile of stuff to post here for the next few days because, to be frank, I've really run out of steam.  I'm exhausted with all the rushing around I've had to do, fighting through the hordes of Christmas shoppers in every shop I visit and I'm still not feeling the Christmas spirit.  Consequently, my creative energies have vanished entirely.  Inspiration for posts has dried up entirely.  The past few days, what energy I have seems to have been watching Haitian and Ghanaian TV channels via Roku.  It's not that I have any particular interest in these countries, but both boast English-language channels that broadcast internationally, through IPTV, what I assume is entirely pirated material.  The Haitian channel I can currently receive, for instance, shows a continuous stream of big-budgeted, mainly recent, movies.  

I get the distinct impression that it is actually someone's DVD or Blu-Ray collection being shown - several Bond movies turn up regularly, for instance, with Pierce Brosnan and Daniel Craig, but every so often Diamonds Are Forever with Sean Connery randomly turns up, reinforcing the idea that this is a personal movie collection being aired rather than any kind of professional film library.   While the Ghanaian channels showing similar content are monetised with ads, the Haitian one doesn't seem to carry any ads, making their motivation unclear.  They seem to be a subsidiary of a local radio station, so maybe that's the bit that makes the money and the TV channel is there to try and draw in international viewers.  The guys running these channels clearly have no fear of legal reprisals for their flagrant use of unlicensed copyrighted material.  And why should they?  They are in Haiti and Ghana, for God's sake.  Who is going to enforce copyright there (even if these territories recognise international copyright laws)?  In the case of Haiti, I'm actually unclear as to whether it currently has a fully functioning government.  Certainly, it has sufficient other problems that enforcing copyright law is going to come pretty low on its agenda.  I'm sure that, sooner or later, some or all of these channels will either be shut down or blocked from Roku.  But they will inevitably be replaced by new channels or simply resurrected under new names, (the latter being a regular occurrence on Roku with various apps carrying content of dubious legality constantly being removed, then popping up again with a new identity).  In the meantime, I'll enjoy their pirated content while it is still available.

Delivering the Goods

Another recent acquisition for the model railway is this goods depot.  I suppose it could be described as 'modern', but actually dates back to the sixties.  These were sold as kits, but I got this one already assembled for a pretty low price via Ebay.  It isn't the best construction job I've ever seen - I suspect that, at some point, I'm going to have to find a way to disassemble it and try to reassemble it a bit more neatly - but it is complete.  Which is unusual, as most of these I've seen being sold secondhand are inevitably missing something.  Usually the crane, but often doors and/or windows. It even has the complete and unused decal set that came with the kit.  The only thing missing is the original box, which doesn't bother me as, in the long term, it is going on the layout, not sitting in storage. 

Having the box, though, would enable me to identify which version of the kit it was. The kits were actually of continental origin, (meaning that it is really HO rather than OO), manufactured by, I think, Pola, but were marketed in the UK under several different banners at different times.  I first recall seeing it in the hornby catalogue back in the early seventies, when Hornby marketed a range of Pola kits under the Hornby banner, which included this, a coaling stage, various residential buildings and a petrol station.  Prior to that, in the sixties, much of the same range had been marketed in the UK by Playcraft (the UK subsidiary of Joueff).  Later, the same range appeared in the UK under their original Pola banner.  (They may still be available, for all I know).  Anyway, the depot is another of those things I saw in my childhood and quite liked, but never acquired.  At last, though, I've got my hands on one to finally incorporate into a layout.

Not Lonesome This Christmas

Jesus fuck!  They've started early with trying to cast those of us who like to spend Christmas on our own as sad, lonely bastards.  It's all over the front page of tomorrow's Daily Mirror: a government initiative to get local busy bodies to look in on their 'friends' who might be alone this Christmas.  Well, i'll warn you in advance - come knocking on my door trying to patronise me for being 'lonely' and you'll be met with a hearty "Fuck off!" and the door slammed in your face.  Bloody do-gooders - all they are interested in is salving their own consciences and establishing their moral superiority.  I really don't understand why so  many people seem to have difficulty in grasping the fact that a not insignificant number of us actually like being on our own.  We're sufficiently at ease with ourselves that we can enjoy our own company.  In the John Wayne movie Rooster Cogburn (1975), the titular character encounters an old coot who runs a river ferry in the middle of nowhere, who informs the Duke that he's never met anyone he likes better than himself, so he likes to spend as much time with himself as he can.  Which is pretty much how I feel.  I'm a pretty typical loner, I'd say.  We tend not to fit the stereotype of being some kind of weirdos who grew up without friends and family, so have had to be self-sufficient.  Nope, I come from a large family, with a lot of siblings and a plethora of Aunts, Uncles, cousins and the like, who all figured prominently in my childhood.  Which left me, even then, craving for some privacy, some bloody personal space of my own.  As I grew up, I wasn't short of friends, but I quickly realised that most so-called friendships are facile and shallow, with too many people seeing the relationship as primarily a transactional one.  Personally, I've always believed that friendship should be based on more than that, which is why, these days, I have a small, select group of people I consider friends, rather than acquaintances.

But, according  to the Mirror, ministers are shocked by 'the astonishing scale of isolation' with '1.8 million alone at Christmas', which has prompted them to 'call for action'.  Really, it is just so sodding patronising to assume that because someone is on their own, they must be 'isolated' or 'lonely'.  Sure, I know that they are probably thinking of all those pensioners out there, spending Christmas alone, but unfortunately, they make no distinction between those who are truly isolated, because they no longer have close family, or have lost touch with them, and those of us who are on our own through choice.  I chose to spend Christmas on my own after one horrendous family Christmas too many.  It was such a bad experience that it forced me to finally admit that I had never really enjoyed family Christmases, finding them an utterly miserable experience which couldn't end too soon - forced to spend several days of forced jollity at close quarters with people I didn't get on with at the best of times.  Since then, my Christmases have all been fabulous, spent doing what I want to do, when I want to do it.  I was able to ditch that bloody awful traditional Christmas dinner, for instance, not put up decorations if I didn't feel like it or watch Midnight bloody Mass on TV if I wasn't in the mood.  Yet, mention to anyone that I'm spending Christmas on my own and all I get are pitying looks and patronising comments.  Occasionally I even get half-hearted invitations to Christmas dinner, (which I obviously decline).  Which is why, these days, I'm always evasive as to my plans if asked what I'm doing for Christmas, (except with close friends, who know me well enough to know that being alone is what I enjoy, of course).  So, to get back to the point, as ever, I'd just like the bloody media and the UK's do-gooders, to stop making assumptions and to stop generalising about us 1.8 million who are apparently spending Christmas on our own - for many of us, it's a choice.

The Wild Eye (1967)

Paolo Cavara had been in at the birth of the Mondo movie genre.  Indeed, as one of the directors of Mondo Cane (1962), he was, arguably one of the genre's creators.  But it was a creation he clearly fell out of love with, judging by his subsequent film The Wild Eye (1967).  A savage critique of the Mondo genre, The Wild Eye casts Philippe LeRoy as Paolo, an obsessive director of 'documentaries', whose quest to present 'truth' on screen involves him in contriving situations he can exploit for footage, directing the participants in order to ensure that ostensibly 'real' events play out in the most cinematic way possible.  It opens with a desert hunting trip he has arranged becoming a struggle for survival when the vehicle he and his group are using breaks down and it transpires that nobody has ensured that extra fuel, water or provisions have been stowed aboard.  As the group desperately awaits rescue, Paolo films them, trying to create conflict between its members with his 'interview questions'.  When rescued, while Paolo maintains that the incident was an accident, pure chance, others accuse him of having deliberately contrived the accident in order to create footage for the film he is shooting.  The theme continues as Paolo and his crew proceed to South East Asia in order to shoot more footage, with the director continually attempting to get tip offs from local contacts as to when terrorist attacks, executions or suicides are likely to occur, so that he can be present to film them.  Most of these incidents clearly reference the subsequent work of his Mondo Cane collaborators, Gaultiero Jacopetti and Franco E Prosperi: his repeated attempts to find a Buddhist monk who will publicly immolate themselves, for instance, references such a scene (probably faked) filmed by Jacopetti and Prosperi for Mondo Cane 2 (1963), while Paolo's rearrangement of the execution by firing squad of a Viet Cong suspect to make it more cinematographic echoes the )probably real) execution scene in Jacopetti and Prosperi's Africa Addio (1966).

Indeed, a lot of Wild Eye's Vietnam sequences seem designed to echo Africa Addio, with Paolo's constant declarations to combatants in the war zone that he and his crew are 'Italian Journalists' making a documentary reminiscent of Jacopetti and Prosperi's similar justifications for their close up filming of the carnage in the Congo.  The question of whether the sort of war zone footage shot by the makers of Mondo movies represents merely unflinching journalism or is sensationalised voyeurism, lies at the core of The Wild Eye.  Paolo, like his real world equivalents, seeks to co-opt the approach adopted by genuine journalists and legitimate documentary makers that they are merely presenting reality, over which they can express no moral judgement, leaving that to the viewer.  To intervene, they argue, would be to interfere in the natural flow of events, to falsify reality - they can only bear witness to reality, not create it.  The difference, of course, lies in the fact that Paolo and his equivalents do intervene, if not in terms of altering the outcome of what they film, but in the way in which it happens or, more significantly, how it appears to happen.  Of course one of the key criticisms of the Mondo genre is that it doesn't just interfere in real events, but that it actually fakes events in order to create sensational footage.  Throughout most of The Wild Eye, Paolo never actually creates a false situation. (or at least, can't be proved to have done so), apart from the sequence where he gets an impoverished Sultan he meets in the ruins of his palace, which is being rapidly reclaimed by the jungle, to humiliate himself onscreen, eating butterflies (which Paolo and his crew have collected and brought to the palace) and generally acting as if he is deluded.  Paolo's defence is that he is enhancing the reality of the situation, in order to put over to audiences the tragedy of his subject's situation.  Which is an idea which underpins his approach to film making - that what he is attempting to achieve is to present something that goes beyond ordinary, mundane, reality, that he improves it and makes it 'more real'.  Although, simultaneously, he professes to hate contrivance - which is why he makes his interventions as subtle and natural-looking as possible.

The final part of the film addresses the other main criticism of Mondo movies - their lack of a moral compass.  When Paolo is tipped off that a nightclub is to be attacked with a rocket fired from a bazooka, rather than warn the authorities or even the customers, he instead sets himself and his camera up inside the club, already crowded with revellers, in order to film the attack firsthand, with his crew outside to film it all from the external perspective.  Inevitably, the situation results in tragedy - not for Paolo himself, who survives unscathed - but for his female companion, who, although outside, is fatally injured in the blast.  While, initially, his horrified reaction seems to be genuine, we are left in doubt, as he urges his crew to film his grieving over her body.  While clearly intended as a critique of the genre he had helped to birth, Cavara's film still has resonance today, as, with the rise of reality TV, social media and AI, the veracity of what we are seeing on our screens is increasingly held up to question.  Even news footage on mainstream TV channels is now constantly questioned, with journalists constantly being accused of imposing their own, partisan, narratives upon it.  The whole concept of objectivity is being called into question.  But, of course, we all of us impose our own narratives upon what we see.  Everything we experience is filtered through our own experiences.  The key to objectivity, though, is to apply one's critical faculties to our experiences, in order to try and cut through our own pre-existing prejudices.  Sadly, critical thinking just doesn't seem to be a priority these days, either in reporting or education, leaving us with a situation where our entire media is in danger of becoming one big Mondo movie, with nobody having any clear idea of what is real and what is not.  Which is precisely what Cavara was pointing to in The Wild Eye, way back in 1967.

The Elusive Spirit of Christmas

I'm definitely not feeling the Christmas spirit so far this year.  Maybe it is just because I've been having a lousy run of luck, with problem after problem popping up out of nowhere and diverting from actually setting any of my long term plans in motion.  Maybe it is because, this year, Christmas is unfolding against a background of a thoroughly shitty year on a personal basis, (compounded by the recent run of problems).  Maybe it is because there seem to be even more horrendous things going on in the wider world than usual, with the shadow of resurgent fascism looming over us all.  Then again, maybe it is because TV is, so far, doing such a poor job of evoking the spirit of the season.  This year has seen just about the lowest key, uninspiring and unmemorable crop of seasonal TV ads in the history of the medium.  There's not a single one that catches the attention.  It's as if the advertisers themselves can't be arsed to shift into Christmas gear.  Look, I know that we keep getting told that the economy is totally fucked and that we're all skint, but that's really no excuse.  Most of the ads are utterly bland, while others are simply pallid re-treads of previous Christmas ads, (someone needs to tell whoever has Aldi's ad account that Kevin the Carrot had his day at least five years ago and, with the latest ad, has well and truly outstayed his welcome).  Today, I finally saw a commercial that, (very slightly), stirred my seasonal spirit in the form of the Guinness Christmas ad - which understands that Christmas is all about nostalgia.  A nostalgia for those mythical Christmases of our childhoods, that never really existed outside of our unreliable memories.

Then there's the actual Christmas programming, which, this year, looks to be as insipid and uninspiring as the commercials.  Even the BBC's seasonal idents have an over-familiar feel to them - retreading ideas and characters from BBC Christmases past.  But at least they have special idents and a seasonal schedule, whereas most of the other channels seem to have given up altogether on the very concept of Christmas being a time when they should provide viewers with schedules full of special programming to entertain them over the winter break.  OK, I'll be honest here, I don't know whether ITV has a set of seasonal idents or not, as I so rarely watch their channels these days.  But going by recent precedent, if they do, they'll be utterly underwhelming and half-hearted.  It's all very disappointing - some of us rely upon our friend TV to distract us from all the shit going down in the world at this time of year.  We expect it to be packing its schedules with fun and goodwill.  But instead, these days, we just get warmed over retreads of their regular crap, but with a sprig of holly on them.  I can see that, once again, I'll be forced to resort to watching repeats of the Morecambe and Wise Christmas Show on BBC2, made back in the seventies when TV understood what its role was as Christmas: to provide a shared cultural experience that took people away from the everyday shit and immersed them, for an hour or so, in a world of warmth and humour.  I know, I'm sounding like one of those terrible old farts who wanders around shaking their fist at modernity and prattling on about how it was 'all so much better when I was young'.  But I don't think that I'm being overly reactionary for being nostalgic for TV Christmases of yore, experiences that reassured you, for the duration of the season at least, that everything was OK.  Like I said, Christmas is all about nostalgia and in an age when we have the likes of Stephen Yaxley-Lennon/'Tommy Robinson', pint sized football thug, mortgage fraudster, neo Nazi and all round runt, trying to reclaim Christmas for fascism, we need the reassurances it provides more than ever.

All Over Bar the Streaming

I bade farewell to Neighbours, again, yesterday.  The Australian soap has long been an indulgence of mine and when it first ended a few years ago, it was a wrench - it may have been trivial, lightweight, TV, but it had been a constant in my life for decades - sometimes as just a casual viewer, sometimes as a regular viewer.  As I've mentioned before, as one gets older, programmes like Neighbours, where you can be reassured that nothing really bad ever happens and that, in general, everything always turns out for the best, become more important.  They provide us with reassurance that, no matter how bad the real world gets, there's always a place you can retreat to for comfort and stability.  This time around, though, the soap's demise felt like a damp squib, with an air of sad inevitability surrounding it.  That Amazon, it's home in this latest incarnation, would pull the plug after only a couple of years, despite good viewing figures and audience appreciation, was hardly surprising.  It's just typical of modern streaming TV, where the main players just don't seem to give a damn about the building of loyal audiences for existing properties, instead seemingly thinking that what will keep audiences is throwing up a constant diet of new shows instead of developing existing ones.

It is one of the many reasons why I have never bought into streaming TV, or at least the established streamers that dominate the market, (I have no subscriptions whatsoever).  Their approach to TV simply  doesn't engage me.  In truth, rather than being innovative, constantly providing viewers with new viewing experiences, they instead simply constantly re-hash older ideas and properties.  Originality - despite what they might want you to believe - is not their strong suite.  They prefer to serve up re-treads of old films (ludicrously expanded to unsustainable lengths), existing TV properties or adaptations of books, demonstrating little respect for the source material in the process.  (My expectations for the Amazon-led James Bond revival are not very high, based upon their previous track record).  Of course, the specific reason for Amazon pulling the plug on Neighbours was that it had outlived its usefulness to them - they'd originally revived it as part of their launch of FreeVee, their short-lived  ad-supported streaming service, for which they needed shows with established audiences, to draw people in with.  But then they axed FreeVee and Neighbours was folded into the main Amazon streaming service, still ad-supported, but costing money to produce but with, I'm guessing, only a minority of its audience taking out full subscriptions to the service.  (Amazon relentlessly kept trying to get me to sign up to Amazon Prime, right up to the final episode of Neighbours, to no avail).  We were only there to watch Neighbours, the rest of their shit was of no interest, so we, ultimately, were of no interest to Amazon.  That's the thing, unlike conventional, linear, TV, the streaming guys have no concept of public service or loyalty to viewers.  TV shows are just product, an item of inventory to them - if one doesn't sell big, ditch it and replace it with something else and hope that sells instead.  But, to look on the bright side, Amazon's cancellation of Neighbours means that I no longer have to engage with their shitty streaming service - their Roku app is amongst the slowest and most cumbersome I've had the misfortune to use.  Every cloud has a silver lining, as they say.

All-American Christmas

So, do Trump's tariffs apply to the stuff Santa Claus has manufactured at the North Pole and exports to the US every Christmas?  Because you can guarantee that he's deliberately undercutting US toy manufacturers by employing cheap immigrant labour - I mean, those elves aren't indigenous to the North Pole, Santa brings them in illegally from the Third World via his sleigh.  That's the thing: there's really no such thing as elves, they are all just poor bastards from places like Somalia, forced to wear fake pointed ears and the like and work in Santa's workshop all year around.  In fact, I wouldn't be at all surprised if Santa was running a 'people smuggling' racket on the side, every Christmas bringing illegals who have paid him thousands of dollars, into the US hidden on his sleigh.  Probably wrapped in paper, disguised as presents.  Doubtless, that's why, over the past few years, increasing numbers of American kids are waking up on Christmas morning to find some dodgy-looking Mexican, Haitian or Somalian in their stockings.  It's an outrage - Santa's endangering US kids.  Is the year that Trump finally sics ICE onto Santa when he enters the US?  Mind you, Trump being Trump, it is just as likely that he demands Santa buys one of those 'Gold Card' visas in order to continue operating within the US.  Or maybe he could demand that Santa move his toy-making operations to the US, in order to avoid tariffs legally, rather than by smuggling them in via sleigh every year.  Instead of poorly paid illegal immigrants, he'd be able to employ poorly paid US workers.

But if Trump was to ban Santa from the US, who or what would he replace him with?  Presumably an all-American patriotic substitute.  A benevolent old man called 'Uncle Donald Christmas', perhaps?  The Christmas icon guaranteed to forget whatever it was you put on your Christmas list and instead stuff your stocking full of tacky, overpriced, Trump memorabilia.  Probably made in China.  But hey, this would be a Christmas icon who embraced true American values - his 'naughty and nice' lists would be based around observance of things like whether or not you voted for Trump, or if you had posted things critical of him on social media.  Venturing dissenting opinions - like the fact that Charlie Kirk was a creepy racist with a disturbing fixation on young people, for instance - would ensure, not just being put on the 'naughty list' but also a one way trip to a secret Federal prison without trial and due process.  All of which, no doubt, would be used to justify the imposition of a 'surveillance state' upon the US, with phone calls, e-mails and social media constantly monitored so as to update citizens' status as either 'naughty' or 'nice'.  The actual process of ordering presents would be outsourced to some tech giant - whichever one had made the most generous contribution to 'Santa Donald's' seasonal fund - with everything done online via a 'Christmas Portal'.  Payments via credit card, debit card or PayPal only accepted.  Because let's face it, isn't that the missing piece of Christmas that has ruined it for many over the years: rampant capitalism?  Sod all that 'Goodwill to all men' crap - the Democrats, the poor and immigrants can go screw.  Christmas should exclusively be for those who can afford it.

Erasing the Uncivilised

So, we in Europe are all headed for civilisational erasure, eh?   The complete and utter lack of self-awareness of the fascists currently in control of the US government never ceases to surprise me.  Here they are, in their latest 'National Security Strategy' document, trashing European governments, characterising them as 'weak' and overrun by immigration (for which read 'non-white people in general'), basically because they still insist upon observing civilisational norms with regard to governing themselves, while, the while, they are presiding over a country riddled with corruption, mired in violence and more deeply divided every day.  If any state is destined for 'civilisational erasure' in the foreseeable future it is surely the US, a nation whose government appears to be simultaneously waging a war against its overseas allies, whilst also doing so against its own people, creating potentially catastrophic division with its racist anti-immigration campaign.  The latter, presumably, being what it thinks Europe should be doing to its own immigrants, (which is why the US is so intent upon installing extreme right governments in their own image wherever they can), throwing out such 'outmoded' notions as the Rule of Law and human rights.  These are, of course, the cornerstones of democratic civilisations, weakening and suppressing them are what will lead to 'civilisational erasure', not immigration, (as the US is proving within its own borders).  Because, let's face it, if immigration was the root cause of such things, then the US surely wouldn't ever have counted as a functioning civilisation, would it?  (If the US is truly serious about getting rid of all those pesky immigrants, then why don't they start by deporting themselves and giving the place back to the Native Americans?  Not that anyone would take millions of psychos as refugees).

If nothing else, all of this should stand as a stark reminder to Europe's leaders that attempting to appease bullies like Trump and his cohorts, which they have done with all their pussy footing and fawning around him, simply doesn't work.  If you don't stand up to them in the first instance, then they'll just keep coming back and shitting all over you.  Sure, I know all the arguments about how we can't afford to alienate the US because of security, trade etc, but we've still ended up in a position where they are slapping punitive tariffs on us, attempting to undermine NATO and betray Ukraine in order to cosy up to non-democratic Russia and are doing their best to encourage right-wing extremism in our countries while lying prostrate before them.  At least if we'd all stood up to them, we'd still have our pride and integrity intact instead of being humiliated.  We're now in a position where, really, we have nothing to lose by telling them to just fuck off.  If they want to pursue some kind of isolationist policy then fine, let's isolate them.  The rest of the world needs to establish new trade networks, political networks and security networks that exclude the US.  Refuse to accept US citizens in our countries, even as tourists.  Let them marinate in their own shit as Trump and friends turn the US into one huge cess pool.  Even if and when they finally get rid of fat boy and his hangers on and return to some sort of civilised state, we still need to keep them quarantined.  They need to get the message that we're tired of them and their hypocrisy: sanctimoniously lecturing the rest of us about freedom and democracy whilst practising repression and corruption at home.  As you've doubtless guessed, right now, I've just about had it with America and Americans.  They can all go fuck themselves until they sort themselves out.  I'm done with them.  You know, I wish that I could guarantee that for the rest of the run-in to the festive season I'll be posting only fun-filled Christmas-themed content, but I can just guarantee that the orange shit gibbon and his idiot followers will commit yet more atrocities between now and then, which will have me ranting and raving here.  I apologise in advance.

Nazi Bastard's Schooldays

"It's absolutely outrageous to suggest that, when at school, I ever referred to any fellow students who happened to be Jewish as 'Shylock'," declared far-right MP and leader of the Regressive UK party Noel Fromage today, as he defended himself against allegations from fellow schoolmates that, when a pupil at exclusive private school Dullard College, he had engaged in racist language and abused and intimidated students from minorities with praise for Adolf Hitler and his works.  "Look, as everyone who knows me will tell you, there's no way that I'd call some Jewboy a 'Shylock' - every educated person knows that the correct anti-Semitic term is 'Kike'.  Just as I most certainly wouldn't have called a black boy in my year a 'wog' - that term is more correctly used against Arabs.  For blacks it should be 'Nig Nog' or similar, while 'wop' is reserved for Italians, 'Dago' for Spaniards and 'spics' for Hispanic types in general.  Really, these things should be included in the National Curriculum to ensure that today's youth is properly educated in such matters."  According to Fromage, even if he had used such terminology it would only have been 'harmless schoolboy banter' of the kind heard in playgrounds up and down the country to this day.  "None of it was intended to directly offend and insult," he claimed.  "It was all meant in jest, you know, like when you call a chap with glasses 'four eyes' or someone with a prominent proboscis 'big nose'.  All quite harmless.  Or it would have been if I'd actually said it, which I most probably didn't.  I mean, who could possibly remember what was said to them forty or more years ago, especially if it was a harmless bit of racist abuse spoken in jest?"

Fromage has also been accused of parading around in an SS uniform at meetings of the school's Combined Cadet Forces (CCF) and attending a Christmas party dressed as Hitler.  "It wasn't even a fancy dress party," recalls Jim Chunk, who was in the year below the MP at Dullard College.  "He just turned up dressed in a Nazi uniform, with a smudge of black boot polish just under his nose.  He goose-stepped about and threw Nazi salutes, shouting 'Sieg Heil' at everyone."  In another Christmas related incident, Fromage allegedly worked part-time in a Santa's grotto one Christmas while in sixth form.  "He thought it hilarious to pull off his Santa hat and beard, to reveal that he was wearing that fake Hitler moustache again, not to mention an Iron Cross, throw a Nazi salute and shout 'Goodwill to all men, except the Jews and the wogs!' or 'Gas a Jew for Christmas!', while laughing uproariously," claims Chunk.  "There were complaints from parents when it turned out that the presents he handed out to kiddies, when unwrapped, turned out to be copies of Mein Kampf."  Again, Fromage has denied the allegations, calling them 'gross exaggerations' of the truth.  "I won't deny that I liked dressing up - lots of teenagers do. Nowadays, they'd just call it 'cosplay'," he asserted.  "It would also be completely inaccurate to describe the uniform I wore to the CCF as an SS uniform - it was quite clearly a Panzer Division tank commander's uniform.  People really need to educate themselves on such things.  I really don't see what the fuss is about - these days you have boys attending school in bloody dresses and full make up, for God's sake and nobody bats an eyelid.  Now, that's outrageous, if you ask me."  Fromage also batted away criticisms of his boyhood admiration of Hitler.  "Look, people fixate far too much on his politics - if you can get beyond that, then I think you'll find that he was actually a fascinating and talented chap - have you seen his watercolours, for instance?" he asks, adding that, as an adult, he obviously no longer idolises the Nazi dictator.  "Clearly, since then, I've broadened my education of art and, whilst still appreciating his works, realise that there are far better artists out there."

Come Back Sepp Blatter, All Is Forgiven...

It really is quite astounding, but FIFA's draw for the 2026 World Cup, presided over by the organisation's president Gianni Infantino and including the award of the 'FIFA Peace Prize' to Donald Trump, has achieved what we all thought impossible.  It has made us nostalgic for the days when Infantino's disgraced predecessor, Sepp Blatter, presided over FIFA.  It suddenly seems unimportant that the latter's tenure was mired in corruption, (although we should note that Blatter himself was recently cleared of corruption charges), and characterised by the bullying of various national football associations that objected to FIFA's gradual land-grab of club football, instituting such things as the Club World cup, which, even in its original form, was hugely disruptive of domestic league programmes.  Because, despite all of that, under Blatter, FIFA at least confined its corruption to football and didn't go around handing out spurious 'peace prizes' to quasi-fascist would be dictators and sex offenders who are currently gearing up to invade Venezuela (and possibly Greenland) whilst simultaneously trying to reward Russia's aggression by forcing Ukraine to concede territory to Moscow as the price of 'peace'.  Halcyon days.  It's just another example of how bad things seem to have gotten that we look back in nostalgia at the likes of Sepp Blatter, or even George W Bush, thinking 'well, maybe they weren't so bad, after all'. Even if, as in the case of the latter, they actually did invade somewhere - they still seem like a class act compared to the orange bollock currently occupying the White House.

These latest FIFA shenanigans just emphasise how, depressingly, everything has become about money, or, more accurately, the greed for money.  More and more money, because, it seems, these people can never have enough.  Nothing else, it seems, matters any more.  Morals?  Integrity?  Sportsmanship?  Fairness?  Decency?  None of them are enough to trump the profit motive any more.  Now, I'm not naive, I lived through the eighties, I know all about how materialism can be used as a powerful political motivator - it kept Thatcher in power for far too long.  But that was before the internet came along and the likes of Google and Meta got their claws into it and started telling everyone that if you were just creating stuff for pleasure, because you wanted to share your ideas freely with others, then you were an idiot.  Because, hey, you can monetise all of that stuff!  Hence the rise of all those You Tube 'stars' and web 'influencers' who were apparently coining it despite having no creative abilities whatsoever, instead peddling trivia and nonsense for paid clicks and sponsors.  The fact that, by comparison to the total online population, they were a tiny minority, didn't deter people falling en masse for the delusion of wealth through monetisation.  Once the idea was established, it went far beyond the web, with every organisation and enterprise doing their best to squeeze every last ounce of monetary value from their products, with sport in the forefront.  Suddenly events like football matches weren't available free-to-air because the organising and regulating authorities could get obscene amounts of money from cable and satellite broadcasters to sell them to fans on a pay-per-view basis, instead.  Then there are the sponsors - just look at the number of sponsors each football club has now.  They have separate sponsors for first team kits, training kits, U-21 kits and so on.  

This FIFA shit show just reminds us of the ultimate outcome of this grasping greed - you inevitably find yourself having to cosy up to the unspeakable, like Trump, or the Saudi Arabian government, in order to secure your revenue streams and continued expansion.  Because the bigger you are, the more product you have to exploit and wring money from, right?  Right?  Except that, eventually, you'll reach saturation point and you'll come up against the limits of demand as fans just don't have enough money to cover it all anymore.  I suspect that FIFA is fast approaching that point.

The Blessed End of Eurovision?

At risk of speaking in bad taste, I have to say that it finally looks as if something good might come out of Israel's war against the citizens of Gaza.  Namely, the collapse of the Eurovision Song Contest.  With the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) refusing to ban Israel from next year's contest, (although, strangely, they had no qualms over kicking out Russia when it invaded Ukraine), four nations have already announced that they will boycott the contest, with more apparently likely to follow.  With luck, the furore over Israeli participation will sound the death knell for this horrendous annual event which, for far too, long, has been allowed to blight our lives in the name of 'entertainment' and 'international brotherhood'.  In truth, it has always been a politically motivated ode to utter mediocrity with little artistic merit.  In recent times it has just become one big gay joke.  Quite literally.  Not to sound homophobic bit I, along I'm sure with many others, find that the turning up of the campness levels to eleven does nothing to make the farrago any more entertaining.  Rather, all it seems to do is to reinforce existing stereotypes about the gay and trans communities.  If nothing else, if the Eurovision Song Contest does breath its last as a result of this issue, we in the UK can at least be spared our annual ritual humiliation when it comes to the voting.  I mean, I honestly don't see why we should keep paying (the UK is one of the main sponsors of the contest) to be pissed on.  It's high time that we told the bastards to just fuck right off.  And this Israel business provided the perfect pretext for doing so - we could have walked out on a matter of moral principle.  So naturally, we haven't taken the opportunity, instead just meekly going along with the EBU in effectively denying what has been, to all intents and purposes, a genocide in Gaza, perpetrated by Israel.

But why are Israel in the European Song Contest in the first place?  Last time I checked, they definitely weren't in Europe, either geographically or by virtue of being a member of the EU.  The standard answer, of course, is that the contest is organised by the EBU, of which Israel is a member.  But again, the question is why?  If they aren't a European country then surely they shouldn't be in the EBU?  But if the EBU and the majority of its membership apparently don't have the balls to kick Israel out, then they should at least have the decency to try and be balanced by inviting Gaza to participate.  Sure, Gaza isn't in Europe nor even a member of the EBU. (although if, as Israel claims, it is still part of their territories, then surely it is), but the EBU long ago set a precedent of allowing outside nations to participate, be they Israel or Australia.  The great thing about such an initiative is that it would give the EBU the moral high ground, while simultaneously guaranteeing an Israeli boycott, thereby resolving the whole issue.  Another bonus is that it would have the likes of the Daily Mail spluttering into their headlines, denouncing it as an appeasement of radical Islam.  You can see the sort of stories they'd run: claiming that the Gazan contestant was really a Hamas terrorist who had murdered Israeli children, or that Gaza planned to win the public vote by whipping up public sympathy by fielding a singer who had suffered multiple amputations as a result of Israeli bombings.  Accompanied, no doubt, by a chorus made up of the badly burned and mangled bodies of dead Palestinian children strung up as puppets and made to dance behind the singer.  I know, I know - poor taste again.  But hey, if the Israeli attacks on Gaza and the EBU's craven refusal to take a moral stance aren't in worse taste, then I don't know what would be.

Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969)

Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969) is, in many ways, a problematic entry in Hammer's Frankenstein series. The year of its release is significant, placing the film on the cusp of a shift in Hammer's horror output - while it still has the trappings of their successful period Gothic format, it also looks forward to the next decade, as the studio's output became more sexually explicit and gory, as they tried to compete with the new generation of horror films from the US that had been heralded by Night of the Living Dead (1968).  Ironically, at the very moment that Hammer was winning accolades like the Queen's Award for Industry for the financial boost the success of its horror films globally had given the British economy, the very formula which had served it so well beginning to lose its popularity with audiences.  Consequently, the studio's then owner, Sir James Carreras, realised that if the films were to continue to compete successfully in a changing marketplace, then new elements had to be introduced.  Which is why, at his instigation and over the objections of both stars and director, the infamous rape scene was inserted into Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed.  The scene feels as jarring today as it did in 1969, completely out of character for Frankenstein - as played by Peter Cushing he was always amoral and obsessed with proving his theories, but his interest in women was always peripheral and he always seemed asexual.  Whilst he might use blackmail and intimidation to gain the compliance of those he forced to assist him, sexual assault, like using direct violence, would simply seem too crude to a man of Frankenstein's sensibilities.

Of course, Hammer's Frankenstein films had never been as consistent as their Dracula movies.  Unlike the latter, they never really formed a coherent and consistent series of films, with continuity noticeably lacking between the later entries.  While the first two, Curse of Frankenstein (1956) and Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), form a distinct sequence, with the latter a clear sequel to the first, the third entry, Evil of Frankenstein (1964) abandons their continuity and gives Frankenstein and his monster a whole new origin story told in flashback.  (This was undoubtedly down to the fact that while the first two were bankrolled by Columbia, the third was backed by Universal, who seemed to want it to fall more in line, stylistically and thematically, with their own earlier Frankenstein series).  Both Frankenstein Created Woman (1967) and Frankenstein Must Destroyed seem to be entirely self-contained stories with no obvious links, other than Cushing's Frankenstein, to either each other or the earlier films.  The character of Frankenstein himself was also not entirely consistent over the course of the films, starting as an amoral over reacher in the first two, although still retaining some redeeming human characteristics, by the third he seemed somewhat more worldly, complaining not only of the injustices visited on his work by the authorities, but also their misappropriation of his physical possessions.  In Evil, at least as far as his relationship with his assistant was concerned, the Baron seemed less misanthropic and possessed of more of a moral compass than usual, (the true villain is the hypnotist who uses the monster for his own murderous purposes, to Frankenstein's disapproval).  By Frankenstein Created Woman, he's regained some of his earlier steeliness, but has developed a sardonic sense of humour (as demonstrated in a court scene) and retains some the slightly more compassionate side glimpsed in Evil.  But by Frankenstein Must be Destroyed, apart from his hubris, the Baron seems devoid of virtually any normal human characteristics or emotions.  he has, in effect, become the monster, (something foreshadowed in the opening scenes of a scientist being decapitated by a figure with a scarred face, which turns out to be a mask which, when removed, reveals Frankenstein's face).

Which latter point at least links it thematically to some of the earlier entries in the series: at the end of Revenge, his brain has been transplanted into nw body, while Frankenstein Created Woman opens with a frozen Frankenstein being thawed out by his assistants (echoing scenes of the monster being thawed out from blocks of ice in Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman (1943) and House of Frankenstein (1944)).  Indeed, the peroccupation with identity and the monster appearing human rather than grotesque are also themes carried over from Frankenstein Created Woman, with Frankenstein having used the life energy of his executed assistant to revive the assistant's dead girlfriend, leaving her with a crisis of identity in the earlier film, while in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, one scientist's brain is transplanted into another man's body, again resulting in questions of identity.  So, even if tonally somewhat different from its predecessors, Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed has a clear themsatic line of descent from them.  Ultimately, Frankenstein Must be Destroyed emerges as a strong entry in the series in spite of the disconcertig elements imposed upon it, with Terrence Fisher, as ever, directing masterfully and a strong cast, led by Cushing and including Simon Ward and Veronica Carlson, delivering equally strong performances.  The biggest criticism that can be levelled at the film is that it is overlong, due largely to the insertion of the rape scene and the late addition of a series of scenes involving Thorley Walters' bombastic and bumbling police detective, which distract from the main narrative and slow down the pace.  One can only assume that the studio felt that it needed these lighter toned scenes to try and moderate the otherwise relentlessly grim tone of the main narrative.

Along with the previous year's Dracula Has Risen From the Grave, Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed marks the peak of Hammer's Gothic period.  The films that followed, even those with Gothic themes and settings not only had noticeably lower production values, being produced on much shorter schedules, but also significantly upped the sex, gore and violence.  It is notable that for their next Frankenstein film, Horror of Frankenstein (1970), Hammer decided to go back to the beginning and effectively remade Curse of Frankenstein, but this time as a black comedy, with a new young, swinging and sexy Frankenstein in the form of Ralph Bates.  Not surprisingly, it was a complete misfire and for their final entry in the series, Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell (1973), Hammer brought back both star Peter Cushing and director Terrance Fisher.  But by this time the horror scene had decisively moved on and, amongst the acres of bare bums and boobs on display Hammer's contemporaneous lesbian vampire 'Karstein Trilogy', or the swinging London of their present day Dracula films, it felt decidedly old fashioned.

Losing the Plot?

'Is Trump losing the plot?' seems currently to be the question on the lips of many US political commentators.  Well, have I got news for you guys - we're way past the point of asking that question.  It's been patently obvious to any sane and rational person that the Orange Shitler is completely off his trolley since the day he took office in January.  Lat's face it, he was patently insane during his first term, but the US media seemed incapable of communicating this truth.  Until now, that is.  Finally, they are starting to dare to whisper that he might be, well, exhibiting symptoms of senility.  Again, not shit.  Their problem is that they've spent so long attempting to normalise his behaviour, even during his first term, that it has become increasingly difficult for the media to acknowledge that they were wrong and by covering up for the Mango Mussolini, they have done the US electorate a severe disservice.  But why have they previously been so keen to try and characterise the Trump administration as being somehow 'normal'?  Perhaps it is because so much of the US media is owned by billionaires who, even if they aren't publically conservative-leaning, see Trump as an ally in their attempts to subvert those democratic processes they see as harmful to their own interests.  Maybe it is simply fear - fear that if they don't curry favour with the fat bastard then he'll use the full force of the state to intimidate them.  In either case, they are neglecting their duty to speak truth to power, the main function of any media in a democracy.

But it isn't just the US where we see this happening - just look at the way in which the British press are going out of their way to normalise not just Nigel Farage but, increasingly, also the mortgage fraudster and convicted thug turned 'citizen journalist' and extremist rabble rouser 'Tommy Robinson'.  Despite the fact that, to be frank, the kind of views they are known for espousing are basically fascist, they are now presented to us a legitimate political players.  It's not just the usual suspects, the right-wing millionaire owned print press, who are culpable here:  the BBC's current chief political correspondent Chris Mason, for instance, seems to have a major league crush on Farage, praising him and giving Reform UK an easy ride whilst simultaneously launching assault after assault, often on the thinnest of evidence, at the government.  I'm not saying that the government shouldn't be held to account, it most certainly should, but I'd expect the BBC's overall political coverage to be just a little more balanced and consistent in its tone with regard to the different political parties.  I mean, it isn't as if we don't already have right-wing TV news channels that give regular platforms to the likes of Farage, so we surely don't need our national, publicly funded, broadcaster to jump on that bandwagon as well, do we?   But if they don't we'll have the various Farage mouthpieces, like the Telegraph, bellowing that they are all a bunch of lefties and should be shut down.  Are we getting to the stage, I wonder, when we have to storm the offices of these rags, waving flaming torches and shouting 'Kill the monster'?