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Archive for the ‘Culture from the Perspective of an Uncultured Youth’ Category

An open letter to Whoever Winds Up Organising This Year’s “Rage Against The X-Factor” Campaign

Friday, January 29th, 2010

Dear loose confederacy of internet protestors,

You did good last year. You managed to bring to a stop The X-Factor’s streak of inane UK Christmas Number Ones. I applaud you for that. But next year could you… I don’t know… maybe pick a different song?

It’s not that I don’t appreciate your effort, and it’s not that I don’t like Rage Against The Machine (I don’t, but that’s besides the point), but it seems to me that you could use this as an opportunity to get an independent artist into the UK chart. Wouldn’t it be fantastic to discover that the Christmas #1 was Jonathan Coulton? Or Dan Bull? In fact “Thistopia” would make a perfect candidate for this year’s campaign. And it’s available to buy on iTunes. Perfect!

It also amuses me that you were given the opportunity to send an anti-X-Factor message a couple of years ago when Malcolm Middleton released “We’re All Going To Die”, but I guess The X-Factor wasn’t such as nuisance then. For some reason.

You’ve proven you have some kind of phenomenal cosmic power. That’s great. But maybe you could use it to send a message not just to The X-Factor but to the music industry as a whole. And the best way to do that is to throw your support behind an independent artist.

Think about it.

Kind regards,
Ben Paddon

Here’s My Card

Tuesday, January 5th, 2010

On Monday I took every Christmas and Yule card I was given and put them in the recycling bin. I do this every year, and I can’t help but feel like it’s a waste. I don’t mean to come across as a Scrooge, but I’ve always felt like Christmas and birthday cards were something of a waste. I appreciate the sentiment, certainly, but the card just goes in the trash after the fact and the money people spend on a card could easily have been put to better use.

My birthday is April 26th. Instead of getting me a card, I’d like to ask that my friends and family instead make a donation to my charity of choice, Child’s Play. Those children’s hospitals could use the money much more than I could use a square bit of card.

On A Seven-Day Diary

Sunday, November 22nd, 2009

This is without a doubt my favourite poem of all time. It’s called “On A Seven-Day Diary” by Alan Dugan.

Oh I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and talked and went to sleep.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
from work and ate and slept.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and watched a show and slept.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate steak and went to sleep.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and fucked and went to sleep.
Then it was Saturday, Saturday, Saturday!
Love must be the reason for the week!
We went shopping! I saw clouds!
The children explained everything!
I could talk about the main thing!
What did I drink on Saturday night
that lost the first, best half of Sunday?
The last half wasn’t worth this “word.”
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
from work and ate and went to sleep,
refreshed but tired by the weekend.

This poem epitomizes exactly the sort of life I have sought to avoid. The grind, the chore of merely existing as opposed to the joy of living. It’s one of the reasons I left the UK and came looking for something better in the United States.

It’s also probably one of the reasons I’m presently unemployed. Bugger.

As an aside, I wish I could write poetry like this. I which I could make words flow like liquid half as well as Dugan could.

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