Gordon Brown's diminishing number of supporters are fond of using the cliché that one should not switch captains mid-journey. I'm not exactly sure why that would be the case, I mean, if the captain is going the wrong way why wait until arriving at a hostile port to point this out? But in this case I think a more apt metaphor is that of removing a pilot from a plane that's going down in flames. I'm not entirely sure what getting rid of Gordon Brown would achieve apart from signalling to British voters that there's nought but stupendous fuckery occurring at Whitehall. Honestly, Labour, how many unelected leaders do you want to cram in before the Conservatives seize on your ineptitude?If our man GB had cajones, he would respond to all this by calling a general election. He could use the...
Frustratingly, my brain decided to wake me up at 2 a.m. this morning so I could lie in bed and ponder possible scenarios for this Saturday's "Doctor Who" finale. Really, of all the things I could have been doing, I had to spend an hour or so pondering Donna Noble's significance in the weakly-put-together universe of a man who enjoys 70s disaster films and a fair bit of camp. But there we are.I am theorizing that Donna turns out to be a time lordess or some such thing. This would be another one of those things where a time lord is hiding in a human form that is totally unaware of being anything else. The Doctor did this last year, as did the Master. If this were the case it would validate all the "Donna is gonna die" stuff, because effectively she does die. Remember the emotional turmoil...
My second year of university finally comes to an end this week. Like the Democratic Party nomination process, it has dragged on for far too long, with my last lecture actually having taken place more than a month ago. In the interim I have had to try to stay mentally in tune for exams. The exam process in Britain is comically archaic, placing massive groups of students into large halls and gymnasiums to sit in uncomfortable chairs and scribble out essay questions for two hours. It is an unnecessarily stressful set-up that forces me to develop ridiculous patterns and superstitions similar to when I played sports. You know, the "I always wear these socks and I put them on in this exact way" sort of thing. Before every exam I have to do 100 push-ups and 300 stomach crunches, eat two pieces...
You know how every time you meet an anorexic they will do that thing of laughing nervously and say: "Oh my gosh, no! I'm not anorexic -- I eat all the time."Usually I just frown at them and try to channel whatever fatherly aura I might have to communicate to them that I know they are lying. Tonight I decided what I'd really like to do is say: "Yeah, I guess you're right. No way you could be anorexic with those fat arms of yours."Or, maybe I won't say...
A few weeks ago, I came up with the brilliant money-making scheme of trying to set myself up as a Welsh-language pundit for the upcoming U.S. election. At first I thought to pitch the idea to Barn, but I already write for them, so I know they haven't got any money. Then I thought I might take back the mean things I've said about Y Byd's total and embarrassing incompetence, and try to work myself into their good graces in time for their March launch date. But then they "revised" their launch date again -- because they are totally and embarrassingly incompetent. (a)The BBC might throw me on the radio in a pinch, I thought, but my strange fanatical devotion to the Beeb means I would want to actually prepare. I don't have the time or energy to be a legitimate pundit. Especially considering...
Occasionally I will think of brilliant things and then I will do nothing about them and be upset when someone else shows some initiative. To that end, I want the world to know at least that this was my idea first:Tracking devices as fashion accessoriesI realised today via a Facebook conversation with Charlotte that if the marketing was done right, millions and millions of people would willingly, eagerly, wear tracking devices -- allowing any and all to know their every movement.Social networking sites and blogs and constant texting and so on indicate that there are large numbers of people who don't like the idea of being out of contact for even short periods of time. It's as if we are all a bunch of co-dependent girlfriends.What I envision is a fashionable, waterproof, lightweight...
For 50 weeks of the year, I'm not really all that interested in going to Germany. But then Oktoberfest comes along and I am once again kicking myself for not being there.Apart from lack of money, my main problem this time around is that I don't have anyone to go with. The child bride doesn't drink and she's not really a fan of being stuck amid a huge crowd of drunkards. Considering that some 6 million people are expected to take part in this year's German boozery, it's a good bet that Rachel won't be found anywhere near Munich over the next 16 days. If anyone out there is interested in going next year, let me know. My only requirement for a travelling companion is that you be able to lie convincingly -- you will need to do this when we return home and the child bride asks if I drank too...
As You Lick ItRomeo in JulietA Midsummer Night's CreamThe Hot and Horny Wives of WindsorThe Merchant of PenisBalling of the ShrewMuch Ado About Nuttin'The Two Gentlemen of...
"Gossamer" is an all-too-underutilised word in the modern English lexicon. On the train this morning, I found myself listening to "Just One of Those Things," by Nat "King" Cole, in which he suggests taking "a trip to the moon on gossamer wings."Personally, I would prefer some good, sturdy wings for a trip to the moon, along with a not-so-gossamer space suit. But I suppose "a trip to the moon in a quality-assured spacecraft with a few extra tanks of air, just in case," would have been a bit clunky in the verse scheme. And, of course, then he would have been forced to leave out the word "gossamer."I have decided that I want to work "gossamer" into my lexicon, similar to the way I have been trying to work in "stud duck." The problem is, these aren't words and phrases that are likely to fit...
I'm supposed to be revising. Instead I'm creating Facebook groups. Go...
I'm not really a science-fiction guy. The only science fiction I've ever read has been Kurt Vonnegut, Douglas Adams and William Gibson and none of it solely for the purpose of reading science fiction. I watch Dr. Who and spot the enormous plot holes (seriously, my bitches, when the pig slaves were attacking Hooverville, Solomon -- who had fought in World War I -- took up the weakest defensive position I've ever seen), and the episode of "Star Trek: The Next Generation" in which Picard learns to play a flute* made me cry, but beyond that I don't really watch a lot of science fiction, either. Yet, I find myself constantly thinking up lame science-fiction ideas. Case in point, the TV series in my head. And this morning I thought up something new:Shortly after New York City is completely...
If you are a Facebook member in Wales, please join this group. Hell, join it even if you're not in...
As The Editor (I like that he always signs comments that way, as if he is a super hero who doesn't want us to know his secret identity) correctly identified Wednesday, the URL of this blog has changed. It is now, officially www.chriscope.co.uk, although the old chriscope.blogspot.com address still works. I openly admit that buying my name in URL form is a lame thing to have done, and I encourage you to take the piss about it ("make fun of me" for those of you playing along at home). Although, if you do, I will storm out of the room like Preston did on Never Mind The Buzzcocks, or like when Eric hit me in the face with a piece of candy at Angie Luukkonen's house. In a world where there are several free blog providers, there is no particularly good reason for me to have paid somebody so...
People seem to be more concerned about the environment these days. I support that, I really do. Even though it's pretty much killed my plans to sell a wood-burning air conditioner.Actually, it's OK. Because I'm now working on a hybrid that runs on coal and whale...
I had a dream last night that I was in a romantic comedy with Matthew McConaughey and Reese Witherspoon, but I was living the film, if that makes sense. I was aware that everything was following a set plotline and that McConaughey and Witherspoon were, in fact McConaughey and Witherspoon, and not the characters they were playing, but I felt all the things that happened to me.I was the comic-partner-sort-of-thing to McConaughey's wealthy and slightly arrogant character. He was trying to exact revenge from Witherspoon, who had fouled up some major business deal. Or some such thing. It was a romantic comedy, so of course strength of plot wasn't particularly relevant. I was a homeless guy who hung out with five very large dogs that would keep me warm a night by sleeping on top of me. A number...
"Radiant inverted question mark, Sneaveweedle, where have you been? It feels as if I sent you for tea three months ago!" Penhill bellowed. "And what on earth are you doing on the floor?!""Oh moan," whimpered the travelling assistant. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm not very stable on moving trains; I had to crawl back from the snacks trolley to avoid spilling the tea."Penhill stared down at Sneaveweedle for a moment, then at the two paper cups in Sneaveweedle's hands. He took in a deep, whistling breath through his nose."Did it not occur to you to ask for a lid?" Penhill asked.He took the cups of tea and Sneaveweedle climbed back into his seat in a graceless, flailing all-hands fumble across Moonfloat that resembled a teenage boy's first endeavour to second base. Each attempt to avoid...
You've probably seen that meme that has a person list six weird things about themselves. I am stuck for a blogging topic, but too lazy to be arsed with six things, so I've come up with one.Of course, the question of what falls under the category of "weird" is a bit of a trick. I speak Welsh, I think medieval fayres are awesome, and I follow EastEnders so religiously that I refer to characters as if I know them personally (I am about two dead brain cells away from writing them letters of advice on how to solve their problems: "Stacey, you know that nothing good will come of this thing with Max!"). So, I'm not 100% sure* I'm qualified to judge "weird." Perhaps that I am so taken with iTunes (a half decade after everyone else) is a bit odd. But for the most part, I don't tend to think that...
