Archive for November, 2007
Friday, November 30th, 2007
The Queen’s Wedding told us little about Her Maj, but plenty about her sycophantic followers
[For The Guardian, 800 words, G2 supplement television review]
“In royal terms, Philip was a boy from the wrong side of the tracks,” says the voiceover, after explaining that Philip’s well-born but unfortunate parents split up, leaving poor Philip to be sent to go to an extremely good boarding school and an enormous country house with his rich uncle, who took him in and treated him like family before marrying him off to the heir to the throne. It is a tale that’s almost Dickensian in its depiction of appalling human suffering.
No, it isn’t. It is, though, the kind of carefully constructed dramatic sentence that littered The Queen’s Wedding (Channel 4). Mountbatten, we were told, was the father of all spin, and positioned his family and his “rough, uneducated and not likely to be faithful” nephew Philip as the perfect match for Princess Elizabeth.
(more…)
Television, Features |
Wednesday, November 28th, 2007
Good evening and welcome to Watch With … our weekly feature taking a slice of British television, watching and dissecting it in real time, in order to truly attempt to understand what this ‘entertainment’ being thrust upon us is, and whether, in fact, it is entertaining. At all.
Last week, we dipped our toes into the murky world of non-terrestrial in the shape of Streetmate on ITV2, and an unprecedented number of actual contestants (two) actually turned up in the comment box to say hello. Tonight, we’re running back to the loving arms of ITV1 and will be covering I’m A Celebrity… from 9 until - What? It’s on until when?! Jeeez - until 10.30, because it’s terribly popular. And because we’re hoping that some of the ex-contestants might in turn log in and contribute. Don’t be shy, Katie…
So here another of our weekly forays into the new world of real time television commentary. Well, not that new a world, but it was certainly more difficult before the internet, with people having to watch the one television in the county AND shout what was going on - as well as critical commentary on what was going on out of the window to the local peoples, who would in turn pass it on, Chinese whisper style (is that PC? Can I say that? What’s it called now, if not?) to the rest of the populace, who would in turn add their own insights to the spreading critique.
Still, it’s very similar now. Just makes the throat hurt slightly less. So do leave comments if you’re watching I’m a Celebrity, if you’re watching something else, if you’re here later but did watch it earlier or, you know, if you’re passing by and just happen to want to bemoan the state of television, journalism, the internet or anything else that’s bothering your poor gigantic brain this evening.
SO. I’m a Celebrity then… I shall have to go and find out what’s been going on…
Oooh, I SAY. … Well I never! … He didn’t, did he? … OOoooOOOOooooo! …. Etc.
9pm “So no one left the camp last night, but there were some new arrivals!…” says the continuity woman. What an earth does she mean?
The ‘previously on’ section doesn’t help. They just seem to be the same five people, and some rain, and a trial and … no, no, no new arrivals here. Just Antandec. Hello Antandec.
9.06: All the celebrities are expressing their incredible surprise and disappointment at the non-eviction. “Oh no! I really thought I could be going!” “I had my bags packed and everything!” “We’re here for a whole ‘nother DAY” says Gemma Atkinson “No! Worse than that, it’s a whole ‘nother 24 hours!”
What?
9.09: So who’s left? Christopher Biggins, Janice Dickinson, Jason ‘J’ Brown, Gemma Atkinson and Cerys Matthews. And they’re talking about what a happy, happy little family they really are. And what a bizarre one, let’s face it. Imagine having Christopher Biggins as your Dad, and Janice Dickinson as your Mum. Just imagine it. Go on. Imagine it.
9.12: I’ve just realised - no one’s going to be watching this/reading blogs right now, are they, because there’s loads of football on. And so even if you came back later, you’d have no idea what I’m saying here actually happened or not. Brilliant. I could say anything.
Ok, so at the moment, Cerys is stripped down to a t-shirt and a very nice pair of lacy pants, which Janice is admiring. Cerys stands up, and runs her hand over them, and they really are terribly nice pants. All this is true, by the way. Christopher Biggins then asks if he can try them on. He does, and they look even better on him. That bit was not true.
My, this could be fun…
Next, a Bushtucker trial. It looks a bit dull, so I may just make it all up. Who knows. Who cares, in fact, no one’s out there! Hurrah!
9.18: Jason ‘J’ Brown is doing the trial. He has to stick his his head through a table on which will sit a dome containing some critters or other from the jungle. He can’t see them before he sticks his head in, and if he stays there a for some amount of time, and collects a star with his teeth, he gets the star.
Antandec, after a break are describing how disappointed he was not to have to eat any weird things, any eyeballs or penis or testicles. They giggle at the word penis. And say it four more times for good measure. Penis. Penis! Penis!!!
See, if I can’t get readers, I’ll get google hits from unsavoury internet searchers. I’m not proud.
J’s doing his Bushtucker trial. He’s so far had his eye gouged out by a monitor lizard, swallowed a large poisonous rat, and had some unidentified insect shagging his ear.
None of that is true. It’s all really dull. I mean, I couldn’t do it, but it’s still dull. He sticks his head into an upside down bucket of critters, and then takes it out again. Job’s a good’un.
9.26: Christopher Biggins, in the diary hut, is topless and happy, and rubbing his naked manboobs with pureed jungle bugs. They’re full of vitamins. Some of that is true.
9.29: Everyone’s talking about how happy and wonderful the whole experience is; how much they all love each other; how little they want to leave their new little family. Well that’s very very lovely. But a bit dull. Can we have a little more conflict please, dullards?
9.31: Deep in the jungle, they’re having deep conversations about life regrets and heartbreak. Really open, honest talks about relationships and children and marriage, in quotes which, in approximately four hours time, will be appearing under the banner ‘Cerys talks EXCLUSIVELY to us about love, life, and how she got her heart broken’…
9.33: Suddenly, a gang of terrorists breaks in and holds everyone to ransom! Seriously, we have ten minutes in which to transfer one million dollars and a nuclear warhead into their post office account or they’re going to set their weather machine to ‘BAD!’ This is big news, people. And where are you? Watching the bloody football.
9.37: Advert break. I try once more to move one of the new tiny kittens living in my house off my knee, where he’s proving not the best wrist rest in the world (too high) and sit him somewhere else. Within 5 seconds, he returns. Oh god, here comes the other one. If I start typing complete gibberish, you’ll know why.
Well, and also because I’m bored. Obv.
9.42: “Party like a celebrity with Iceland” I would like statistics to back up that slogan, please.
9.45: Cerys and Gemma do some kind of trial where they have to fill a bucket of water to get a key. They half fill the bucket with water and then fill the rest with rocks. This too is apparently ok.
9.47: Past celebrities who have appeared on IACGMOOH; and other celebrities who have nothing to do with anything - oh, and Holly Hilloughby, hello Holly - talk about how they feel the remaining celebrities are doing.
Quite well, apparently. Thanks for that, celebrities.
9.52: The celebrities do a maths quiz, the prize for which is a chocolate cake. If they lose, Cockroaches will eat the cake. Do cockroaches even like chocolate cake? I thought they ate poo. Perhaps it is poo cake! They joke is on them!
9.55: Janice believes 20% of 60 to be 22. Sadly, this turned out not to be so, and the cockroaches get the cake. They love it. Poo cake!
9.58: Mysteriously, for a reward, Cerys gets given a guitar. She sings a song to the amassed celebrities. It is a nice song, and we get to hear all of it.
Cerys has a new album out. I wonder, could this nice song possibly be on it?
10.00 We’re getting hear all the best bits of the Diary Hut. Most contain celebrities asking for laxitives, prunes, or other stool-related relief.
This is this pinnacle of British entertainment television, people. The national television awards said so.
Can’t I just liveblog my new kittens instead?
10.06: It’s an ad break. Oh look, Phil Collins has a Best Of out. What a big shock. It’s amazing what someone in a gorilla suit can do for your flagging career.
I’m going to film someone liveblogging in a gorilla suit and stick it on the YouTube. You just wait and see how this blog will take off. Next week: TEN comments! No kidding! TEN! Maybe more! Maybe 12!
10.08: All the celebrities are talking about food that they’re craving. Cheap chocolate is much in demand. As is, from Gemma Atkinson: “Have you ever had a pizza with, like, peppers and sausage and mushrooms and something and something …” Oooh, yes, that sounds lovely “…and then covered it with a layer of chips? That’s what I want”
What?! That’s Vile! And she’s tiny! Tiny and wee, with enormous breasts and a tiny waist and … hang on, is that it? Are her breasts full of chips?
10.15: The seventh person to leave the jungle is …
Oh who cares: I’ve had a request to blog my new kittens. Cat and Rabbit, as they are presently called (they were the only two bowls left in the pet shop) are now asleep, after having spent the last hour literally climbing over my head as I type. However one, cat, has chosen to sleep in a very precarious place on my knee, while Rabbit is perched on my shoulder like a parrot, if parrots had claws like tiny razors. This means I cannot move. My right arm is literally going dead as we s’[pea;’k.
Oh, you want to know? It’s Gemma.
This is good. She’s been banging on about wanting to go home for a couple of days, apparently, so this is the British public being kind. Or, perhaps, being bored by the home-whinging, for it is ‘vote to win’ not ‘vote to evict’, after all.
After the break, an interview. AND THEN THIS WILL HAVE FINISHED!
10.22: Gemma arrives in the interview treehouse, says how ready she is to go home. She’s missed being able to phone her mum and tell her everything about what’s been happening. So she’s going to phone her mum and tell her all about it now. Her mum, I’m guessing, hasn’t got a television.
10.24: We see Gemma’s highlights. They are very impressive highlights. Especially in a bikiki. She’s been just a nice, sensible young woman, as far as I can tell. The producers must be very very disappointed in how little she chose to wear that bikini, but Antandec say she’s done very well.
Well done.
10.27: She would like Biggins or J to win.
We would like Biggins to win.
10.28: It’s finished. It was, I thought, a bit flat - and there are only four people out there (and I love you dearly, don’t get me wrong) but just because it was just a bit … I don’t know … flat. Was it just me?
I hope not. The ratings are supposed to be good, so there must be some important magic that I’m missing. I will think on that. Back in a moment to sum up what we’ve learnt.
Post-10.30. So! What have we learnt 1) Gemma Atkinson is a nice young lady - if somewhat underwhelming in the interestingness stakes - who is not as bad at maths as Janice Dickinson is. 2) Her breasts are impressive specimens of the genre, which she refers to as puppies. 3) Putting chips on pizza is apparently a thing. 4) Either Iceland chocolate cake is made of poo, or cockroaches like chocolate. 5) I’m a Celebrity isn’t as fun as we remembered it to be. Or as everyone seems to think it is. Or as kittens. 6) Monitor lizards are quite mean, close up. 7) The word penis is still funny even when you’re closer to 30 than ten.
PENIS!
Thanks and good night. We’ll meet again, don’t know where - though quite possibly here - don’t know when (although maybe next week at a similar kind of time), but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day. All five of you
[Original can be found here]
Television, Minute by minute reports, Pop Culture |
Wednesday, November 28th, 2007
‘Ello! We’re the Arctic Monkeys, and we’re here today to present a proper top-notch masterclass on How to Record a Hit Single. As we’ve done lots of singles now, and a couple of top-selling award-winning albums and that, we thought it would be a bit nice to pass on that knowledge to up and coming young bands who might need a bit of help…
[Find the full deconstruction, with pictures - the only way it makes sense, really - here]
Humour, Pickard of the pops |
Wednesday, November 28th, 2007
[For The Guardian, 800 words, G2 supplement television review]
It is terrifying to live in the same country as Spooks (BBC1). In the past few weeks we’ve narrowly avoided water supply poisoning, had a terrifying bomb-in-a-car-boot incident that, frankly, was about as explosive as lighting a kitten fart, and carried blithely on while murders in an embassy and dangerous sexual undertones in the back corridors of MI5 went on under our very noses.
In fact, corridors feature prominently this season. If something can be done in a back corridor, it’s going on at MI5. Perhaps because corridors make for cheap sets, and the less money you spend on location, the more you can spend on racking up the tension.
Not sure how much a tension-rack is going for these days, but they apparently blew the budget on a supersize one for this episode, as the majority of the action was confined to a small television studio at BBC television centre, during a programme of familiar format where members of the public quizzed politicians about Iran and the west. Called something like “Time to ask a Question”, imaginatively, all was going well until anti-Islamic gunmen took over the studio and started asking questions about nuclear bombs.
(more…)
Television, Features |
Tuesday, November 27th, 2007
It is early on a Sunday morning in Wood Green, north London, and bingo players from around the country are pouring off coaches. Inside the cavernous Mecca hall, they scoop up glasses of free champagne and competition T-shirts before taking their seats.
This is the final of National Bingo Callers of the Year 2007 and these are the official cheerleaders.
(more…)
Writing, Features |
Monday, November 26th, 2007
It makes you work harder, better and for longer - and still we shun it. No longer. Anna Pickard goes on the hunt for the perfect working breakfast.
[for the Office Hours pull out section of The Guardian, Monday 26 November 2007]
Breakfast. The most important meal of the day. If we all had a cornflake for each time we’d been told that, we’d probably have enough breakfast for three lifetimes - with a few extra bowls left over for emergency snacks.
(more…)
Travel & Food, Features |
Thursday, November 22nd, 2007
Hello, good evening, and welcome back to our weekly feature in which we take an hour of UK television, watch it, critique it in real time and then try and work out in what way this piece of programming might have enhanced the lives of the television-watching public, and perhaps the world. We do this up here in this box (hello), and down in the comment box too, with our intelligent, verbose and witty commenters.
Apart from tonight, when I’ll be doing it alone, as everyone has thoroughly foresworn us due to our choice of programming. Yes, from 9-10, I’ll be here, watching and attempting to learn from Streetmate, on ITV2
8.49pm: That’s right, some people aren’t able to get the channel, some people are conscientiously objecting to impact of promiscuity-promotion programming on British television, while most are simply stating their absolute right to rather chew their own remote-holding hands off at the wrist rather than watch Holly Willoughby run around the god-forsaken high street of some drab suburban town trying to get attractive young people to sleep with each other for our entertainment.
But who knows? Perhaps it will be better than that. Come back between nine and ten and we’ll find out. If you’re watching, leave a comment and discuss YOUR findings with the room. Well, me. If you’re watching something else - tell me why I should have been watching that instead. And if you’re coming back later to tell me what a complete waste of space this is/how glad you are to have missed this hour of excrement, then ho-ho-hold on a second there, mi’laddy. Perhaps it was quite good. Read on to find out …
(When there’s something here to read)
9.01: Hello, good evening (’ning, ‘ning, ‘ning, ‘ning) and welcome to Streetmate (’ate, ‘ate, ‘ate, ‘ate). I’m sorry, there seems to be rather an echo in here.
Holly Willoughby is here to save the single people of … Brixton, apparently. She’s going to walk around a corner, find two single people, and find them a big old date! Yes she is! “Trust me” she says, “I’m a presenter!”
Oh yes, because television never lies.
9.03: It’s the funniest thing, she says. When she left her home in London this morning, it was dark and grey and rainy, and now, she’s walking around this street market in Brixton, and it’s suddenly she feels like she’s in Jamaica or something!
Whatchoo trying to say there, Holly? Ah, it’s sunny. Yes, it is.
She goes around asking people what they’re looking for in a partner. She meets some young handsome black men by the tube station. “So!” She squeaks “Have you got some good dance moves for impressing the ladies?!”
Um. Luckily, they happen to be dancers, because that could have been a little bit dodgy otherwise. Maybe.
9.04pm: Holly has picked up an attractive young lady called Beryl! Job done.
Oh, no, Beryl wants to go out with a boy.
9.05pm: Holly Willoughby is dragging Beryl around the streets of Brixton, asking men if they are single. They all say theu are, and then, when they realise this is going to appear on television, they change their minds, ‘fess up, and say they aren’t.
They try another street. No one single. Beryl is dragged behind Holly, looking ever more unsure. They go into the gym, the camera can’t follow them, find a single man who is working out, and says he will call when he is done.
9.06: Four hours later, apparently, and Holly and Beryl are still street-walking, finding no one single At ALL, when they find the working out man. After his four hour work out (seriously, FOUR HOURS?! He must have a neck the size of his chest, and a chest the size of the moon. Is that really attractive?) he is now having coffee. With his girlfriend.
Oh, sorry about that, says Holly to Beryl. That didn’t work out, did it? Good luck!
And then we cut to Holly in a car. She is heading off to Bournemouth. Oh come on! You’re kidding me, no? That was the first segment? Where nothing happened? Whatsoever? That’s the bit that’s supposed to end up on the cutting room floor, no?
9.14: Holly has arrived in Bournemouth and, after a while speaking to a very large, very sunburnt man on the beach about what makes a perfect partner - tender, apparently. With the aftersun lotion, especially.
Here, Holly picks up a deckchair attendant on the beach, finds out he’s actually an extremely posh medical student, and makes off with him. They target one, two, three, four women who turn out to have boyfriends, and one Latvian lesbian. Seriously.
9.19: The attractive young medical student wonders if the Latvian lesbian can be ’swayed from the dark side’. We brush over this, and carry on with the hunt. The hunt for …
Ooh, a young attractive Austrlian, who IS single, but can’t go on a date, some other young women - one of whom is getting married the next morning, another non-single person, another, another. We are 20 minutes into this dating show, in the second location, and haven’t found one single viable person yet. Not one.
9.21: THEY’VE FOUND ONE!
Holly is very exciting, and shouty about that. She’s squeaking. She’s squeaking more than usual. Seeing is she is about 4 inches tall and already quite heavily reminiscent of a doggie toy, vocally, this is quite remarkable. We have turned the sound down a little.
9.25: We learn a little bit more about Ben (the posh medical student is called Ben) and Victoria (I think), they are very aveage, and both like sports; she used to be a tomboy, and as far as I can work out, he’s posh enough to possibly be distantly related to royalty.
Before we go to the break, we visit ‘Streetmate HQ’, where Holly tells us that on their date, the pair are going to go clothes shopping, and then for a meal. Clothes shopping indeed. Clothes shopping?
9.28: Clothes shopping breaks people up. FACT. It is not an activity for a first date. Frankly I wouldn’t go clothes shopping with anyone I hadn’t been going out with for at least - god, I don’t know, I don’t want to be accused of being a bad-tempered crowdopath, but I am - three years?
Is that too much. I just don’t want anyone to see me try and knock a slow-walking shopper off a pavement with a swinging placcy-bag until there’s some sense of commitment there, you know?
9.31pm: They’re shopping. First impressions, they both think the other is ‘all right’. It’s ground breaking stuff. No, it isn’t, but it doesn’t need to be, does it? It’s a simple dating show for simple brain-chewing entertainment. I think. I hope it doesn’t want to be anything else…
She keeps pulling up her boob tube. “Sorry, I keep having to pull up my top” “You keep touching your breasts!” He says “No I don’t!” she says. “Why not?!” quoth he.
Ah, the young men of today. They are charmers.
9.34: Now out at dinner, they’re ordering champagne, wine, no food I can see as yet, just lots and lots and lots of drinking.
You know, I was reading something today about some semilebrity who was being hooked into some channel to try binge drinking for a month and see how it affects her. You know, I’m not sure they need to. This is pretty much doing the job. They’re both getting a bit drunk and a bit lairy, and it’s not especially attractive.
9.37pm: Several weeks later, and Holly is catching up with Ben. Ben had a very good time on the date. She phones Victoria, who he hasn’t heard from since. Ah, she’s been on holiday. Brilliant. She regrets drinking too much - yes, yes, we always regret too late, my love, you will learn in time - and had a nice time, and yeah, they might see each other again, but there’s nothing sure, and …
Oh, she’s off to Dublin. Here we go again.
9.41: Holly can’t even find a single person to drag around with her in Dublin. We see her ask one, two, three, four, five, six, oh, hang on, here’s a possible, no, forget I said anything, seven, eight, nine …
SCORE! She’s found a single trainee music producer named James! He appears to be a local boy, and she manages not to ask him if he can do Irish dancing, which is at least better than she manages with at least a couple of others. So the Irish can dance too, Holly? Excellent work there, young lady. No one in Bournemouth was asked if they could dance, please note.
We go to a break, now that shy James has been talked into going on a date. Or rather, possibly, into walking around Dublin failing to find anyone single, as we all know can happen.
9.47: This show is apparently - just reading the press information thing - part sponsored by a dating site with the same name. How does that work. How do you carry this ethos through into internet dating. Is that like a flash mob type scenario where they name a particular street and then they all just go and hang around that street and try and pull?
They have spotted someone! Actually, James knows her and went to school with her. Surely that’s cheating, but Holly runs after her anyway. She has just been through a bad break up, and doesn’t want to go on a date.
We reject people as we walk. Not that one. Not that one. Not that one. Oh for the love of Cilla get on with it.
9.51: They’ve found one!!! There’s only a few minutes left of the show. How’s this going to work?
9.52: We find out some more about James and Jane. James is a hopeless romantic who simply loves music. Jane … is … not very obvious in this segment.
Ah. Sad music. A producer arrives at James’ house and is filmed telling him that, bad news, after they finished filming Jane decided she didn’t really want to do it after all.
But does he want to go out on the street anyway?
He does! But hang on, he’s telling his friends, we’re going out on the street to find another girl … but they have to do it without Holly.
9.55pm: Wow. Holly’s narrating the segment ‘back at Streetmate HQ’. IE: weeks later. Seriously, the filming schedule is THAT short on time and budget that they couldn’t hang around 12 hours longer? Wow.
The boys are running around the streets trying to find another girl and they’re asking people and they’re looking for people, and they’re approaching people … they fail.
So they all go out on the town and get pissed instead. Paid for by the production company, I imagine.
James snogs some girl drunkenly in a club, we hear little more about it.
9.57: AND THAT’S BLOODY IT.
Three towns, one hour, and out of that came one date that kind of turned out alright but not really that well.
Back in a second to round up what we’ve learnt from this hour of British television programming.
So. What have we learnt? 1) Holly Willoughby, model/television presenter is very cute and bouncy, and squeaks quite a lot. Those same adjectives can be applied to many things, but I feel it would be unsisterly for me to point out which things those might be. 2) If you’re working with a small budget and a tight shooting schedule, it might just be worth stretching both of these things a little in order to avoid ending up with a ‘Dating Show = FAIL’ situation. 3) Anyone regretting they do not have freeview/cable/a dish should not, for this hour, have regretted that. They are fine just the way they are. 4) There is clearly a gap in the market for some youthful date-based television, but does this really service that market? Particularly with the whole lack-of-actual-dating vibe they have going on. 5) Going clothes shopping is not a date, and any television that suggests it should be is peddling disinformation and should be banned. 6) Seriously. That was terrible.
Join us next week for something that’s a) On terrestrial and b) Not This Show.
Thank you, and good night
[Original can be found here]
Television, Minute by minute reports, Pop Culture |
Wednesday, November 21st, 2007
[For Guardian Unlimited Travel, 1200 words]
Sitting on a converted shrimping boat that’s going to catch shrimp before a shrimp-and-salad supper gives you a chance to reflect on several things. Like how much people on the Gulf Coast like their shrimp, for one. Or how tame enjoying wilderness can feel, if that’s the way you want it. Dolphins rise and fall in the wake of the boat while I sip my iced tea. And then choke because it’s got about 900 sugars in it. Welcome to the Deep South.
A coastal wildlife tour wasn’t what I imagined when I thought of Alabama - but in a quiet, wooded and sometimes wet corner of the US, the state (mainly landlocked) cautiously extends its toe out to touch the sea. Examine that toe more closely and peel back the layers, and you’ll find it teeming with wildlife - offering not only a promising nature-tourism destination, but also a mangled metaphor that makes a very beautiful place sound like a dose of athlete’s foot…
[Read the full piece here]
Travel & Food, Features |
Wednesday, November 21st, 2007
Abseiling into active volcanos? Scuba diving between tectonic plates? Dr Iain’s your man
[For The Guardian, 800 words, G2 supplement television review]
Beneath the surprisingly thin skin, a red-hot mass is burbling, bubbling, preparing to explode as the pressure grows. Under the thick blanket of land, terrestrial bodies grind against each other, great sparks are fizzled and, eventually, plumes of long-brewed fiery liquid burst forth from solid rock. Yes, there really is nothing quite so bodice-rippingly educational to be found on midwinter television as geologist Iain Stewart and his masterclass on The Power of the Planet (BBC2).
(more…)
Television, Features |
Wednesday, November 21st, 2007
Arrrrr, me hearties, and welcome one and all to this week’s Pickarrrd o’the Pops. This week, we be sailin’ the open seas with Vampire Weekend, on the good pirate ship Mansard Roof. Or the good pirate yacht Mansard Roof, perhaps? Or, perhaps it be a pirate sloop. I be not sure, though they certainly be dressed like them thar pasty landlubbers the Beach Boys, so perhaps it be so. Arrrr.
We seem’t've just caught young, bloodthirsty pirate gang Vampire Weekend. We know this be them, because just before we joined them on said ship/yacht/sloop, a large screen flashed up, announcing who they were…
Although we be only thinkin’ that from readin’ the top line. Bein’ pirates though, we may well be wrong, for we can’t read lower lines that well, as we only ‘ave the one eye. So perhaps this is Pirewee Kenvampi and his merry band of pirate indie popsters, as the fourth line suggests.
[Find the full deconstruction, with pictures - the only way it makes sense, really - here]
Humour, Pickard of the pops |