Birdemic: Shock and Terror - A Movie Review

Hahahahaha! Wow, what did I just watch? I'm going to go out on a limb and say that once those ending credits start rolling in Birdemic: Shock and Terror, this is what you will be thinking. This is also assuming that you aren't driven completely insane by the experience of seeing it through to the end. So because I've managed to come out the other side of this experience with my mental faculties in tact (arguably) I've decided that I shall dedicate a blog post to reviewing it. Let the madness begin!

So Birdemic is an independent film by James Nguyen and is billed as a romantic horror film, which is rather ambitious description. The Fly was a romantic horror film and Birdemic doesn't even hint at that level of excellence. It would be like calling Playschool an opera or Jerry Springer a wildlife documentary. A more apt genre for Birdemic would be ironic cult comedy. But really it almost defies genre. The plot is straightforward enough. Boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, birds start attacking people in flocks and suicide bombing petrol stations, boy and girl decide to drive aimlessly until the problem goes away. Along the way they rescue some children and meet a cast of colourful characters, who each shares their experiences and explanations regarding this killer bird outbreak. If it sounds dumb and simple that's because it is. It's an extremely easy movie to follow because it focuses entirely on the present tense. The background of the characters is weak, the movie completely lacks direction and motivation and any conflicts that come about along the way are easily resolved and quickly forgotten. What's more the birds never actually feel like a threat. They can't seem to get into buildings and are easily fended off with guns and even coat-hangers. In fact in one of my favorite scenes one of the bird attempts to dive in through the windscreen and just crumples up uselessly against it on impact.

From a technical standpoint the movie fails perhaps even harder. All the cutaway shots are extremely jarring so that during conversations characters standing a foot away from each other seem to be located in different dimensions. This isn't helped at all by the acting, which is astonishingly bad. I honestly don't even understand how acting could be that bad. It's unfathomable. These people belong in a museum or a research facility. Everything is just so robotic and awkward that it makes the acting in porn look Oscar worthy. Lots of the transition and establishing shots are needless and linger on pointlessly, much like me trying to dance with girls at clubs. This is more than I can say for the musical cues, which are on several occasions stopped abruptly as if the musician had been recorded in secret and had just discovered the tape recorder in the lamp shade. And the birds! Oh dear Esther do those birds look bad. Just some horrid tangled messes of brown and red imposed uncomfortably on top of the scenery like the fat kid at school who used to sit on you and fart.

So the plot is dumb, the script is bad, the characters are bland and the production is a nightmare. But you'll probably be surprised to learn at this point that I actually really enjoyed this movie. Sure it's terrible. But it's terrible in a well-meaning and hilarious way. It's not a cynical attempt to wring money from a popular franchise or cash in on a notorious celebrity. It's not promoting evil or spreading propaganda. And it's certainly never boring. I've laughed harder, more frequently and more genuinely at this movie than so many other movie that were actually intending to be comedy. And there's actually something quite gentle and adorably well-intentioned about this movie. Writter, director and producer James Nguyen has never had any training or experience and funded this project almost entirely. The film almost plays out like a love letter to the films that inspired it, namely The Birds by Alfred Hitchcock and An Inconvenient Truth by Al Gore. Throughout the film there are nods to the importance of renewable energy, hybrid cars and it even hints that the aggressive nature of the birds has something to do with climate change, with birds attacking primarily at gas stations and non-green forms of transport. I found all this to be rather sweet, if completely poorly handled. So despite the fact that is an abomination of film I'd still recommend watching it. Because it's hilarious, harmless, well-meaning and strangely fascinating.

Ranting in a Brand New Format

Just some updates on things that have happened. Firstly, sorry about the past few weeks with no updates. I've had weddings and graduations and all sorts of wild shit going on. Secondly, I've been meaning to post this for ages but here's a YouTube series I've started up and am occasionally playing around with. Here's the latest one.

Enjoy.

Or not.

RideBack: A Review

Over the years I've reviewed quite a bit of anime and as I have done so I have observed a lot of tropes and recurring trends. Why does every anime have to have an irritating kookie character? Why are there so many animes that just stop rather than conclude? Why didn't it tie up any of the loose ends? Why the ditsy blonde girls with giant wobbling breasts that bounce merrily in all directions? Why do anime series so often drag on for far too long? As the years have gone by I have grown to begrudgingly accept some of the crap that comes with anime because there are still anime series I will enjoy immensely in spite of it. But in recent years I've been seeing anime that actually manages to completely avoid these standards and shine brilliantly as examples of how anime should be done. These have included 'The Girl Who Leapt Through Time' and the superb '5 Centimeters Per Second' . I can now add 'RideBack' to this list.

At its heart RideBack is a story of regret, passion and personal growth. Set in the very near future, Rin Ogata grew up with one ultimate goal on her mind, to be a famed and talented ballet dancer just as her late mother was before her. The anime lays very strong and simple foundations at the beginning, from which the rest of the plot is built. A recent military conflict has placed complete global control in the hands of a military organisation called the GGP. Alongside this background knowledge we see the graceful Rin dancing in a lead role on-stage, before an accident injures her and robs her of that dream.

RideBack has plenty of beautiful and elegant animated sequences.

The story takes place soon afterwards, with Rin and her best friend moving away to university together. It is here that Rin stumbles upon the University's RideBack club. The RideBack is a sort of cross between a motorbike and a robot. If you can imagine piggybacking on a robot ice skater then you've pretty much got the idea of how it works. Anyway it turns out that Rin's ballet skills make her an exceptional RideBack driver and as it awakens sensations she once experienced dancing, she finds herself taking quite a shining to this new pastime. But this passion comes at a cost as events place Rin in the middle of a growing conflict between the shady, militant government and a terrorist, resistance group.

I don't think I've ever factored this into a review before, but RideBack is visually gorgeous at times. I mention it here because the animation does so much to assist the story. With all the dancing and the RideBacking, movement and elegance really plays an important part in the story and is often used to express the mood of Rin or the tone of the anime itself. For an animation, something completely artificially produced, it is an extraordinary feat to choreograph so many sequences capable of eliciting real emotional responses.

Something I didn't really notice until towards the last few episodes is just how strong the supporting cast is. You will find yourself caring about the well-being of even the minor characters. Additionally, every character has a purpose. There's no filler or comic relief characters in there obnoxiously hogging the screen-time and generally getting on my nerves. In fact the entire story arc itself is very much like that. Concise yet deep and beautiful. It actually reminded me a lot of the incredible game 'To The Moon' that I reviewed a few weeks back, albeit without the tears. The series runs at only twelve 25 minute episodes which is the perfect length for it. This is about half the length of a traditional anime series and I'd like to applaud Madhouse studio for not padding it out to meet this trend.

As a protagonist Rin is perfect. She is a very fine balance of interesting, sympathetic and human traits. She is vulnerable but possesses the strength to overcome her trials. She is beautiful and elegant without ever being sexualized. She's passionate but never overbearing or tedious. She's a strong female protagonist but is never specifically or obviously pitched as one. And all of this aside her personal journey is sympathetic and engaging. The way the narrative weaves together her memories of her mother teaching her important dance and life philosophies and her present day trials as an outlaw are incredibly well realized. All the while the audience is acutely aware that she is unknowingly a part of something much bigger than herself. This is the story of a pawn in a large-scale game of chess trying to make it to the other side of the board and become a queen.

What RideBack reminds us is that anime doesn't have to always pander to silly archetypes and conventions. It doesn't have to be all panties and mood swings. Anime is just another form of expression and this is the kind of anime series I could confidently recommend to someone who has either no interest in anime or is openly critical of it. Oh and make sure you check out '5 Centimeters Per Second', you won't believe something so good could happen in just one hour.

Rope Me Into Your Schemes

It was around midday of Tuesday last week, while my housemate was at uni and I was home alone, that I heard the knock at the door. A chirpy man from India or one of its neighboring countries stood before me adorned in the all-black uniform of EnergyAustralia and brandishing a tablet PC in his left hand. In passive, friendly and yet forceful manner he proceeded to grill me about my current electricity and gas providers. Before I knew it I had somehow been handed a phone and I was now talking with customer services and signing up for a new gas and electricity contract with EnergyAustralia (and yes they do spell it as one word with two capitol letter just like that). How the fuck had this happened? Looking back I think it was just me initially thinking the man was from my provider and was making a customer courtesy call to make sure I was getting the best deal from them or whatever. Then after realizing this wasn't the case a combination of my natural social submissiveness and this mans powerful salesmanship meant that this train was now moving way too fast for me to stop. Lucky for me this suited our household because what EnergyAustralia offered us was indeed a better deal that would ultimately save us a reasonable sum of money in the long term. So from my point of view I saw this outcome as a win-win situation. On the one hand I got a better deal. On the other hand I had learnt a valuable lesson about myself and vowed to correct this behavior now that I had been made aware of it.

I knew you were trouble when you walked in.

Skip forward a few days til Thursday. I was in the C.B.D. and was about to head home when I remembered several grocery items we were in need of at home. As I approached the entrance to the supermarket I was stopped by a pair of young ladies selling raffle tickets at a little bench set up just outside.
"Would you like to buy a raffle ticket?"
A raffle, I thought, how quaint. As I imagined all the attention I'd get on Facebook if I uploaded a series of photos of myself posing seductively with a wheelbarrow full of groceries I'd won in a raffle, I asked the lady the first of two key questions.
"What's the prize?"

Turns out there were a few prizes, a number of sizable cash prizes as well as a million dollar prize home! Fuck, forget Facebook likes, I thought, people will actually like me in real life with that. Impressed so far I asked the second key question.
"How much are the tickets?"
I might just go nuts here and buy like 50. I won't look insane because the money is being donated to a hospital and I could just as easily come across as charitable.
"It's $30 for 150 tickets."
My heart sank a little. Everyone is forced to buy in bulk. This means that to get the competitive edge I'd really have to do a number on my bank account. But nevertheless I went along with it and agreed that $30 this one time wouldn't be a stupid amount to spend for a good cause where the prize is also so impressive. The odds of winning would also be much better than with the lottery or pokie machines. So I proceeded to fill out the little form so that I could be contacted if I won something and properly billed for the tickets. Then about halfway through I noticed something.
"Umm...excuse me. It says here 'I understand that this is not a one-off ticket purchase' and 'I understand that this is an ongoing monthly financial commitment'?"
"Oh yeah" she said "there's a draw every month and this is just making sure you're always in it. You can call us anytime and change this. You can drop down to $5 a month later on if you like?"
It was then the penny dropped. I had been played expertly by this woman and not in a fun sexual way. I knew that I was in deep but if I was an assertive enough person I had been presented with a way out. I didn't have all the facts when I was signing up and we both knew it. It would be perfectly reasonable of me to say "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware of that and I'm really not interested."
So I opened my mouth and said "how do I pay for this?"
"Credit card or direct debit."
"I'll do card then."

You lost. Thanks for playing.

So the past week has been one hell of a week for teaching me a personal truth to which I had been previously unaware; I am a massive sucker. That's not to say I'm gullible and believe everything I'm told, but that I don't posses the social and personal confidence to challenge the person trying to rope me in. Which in a way is somehow worse, because I'm acutely aware that I'm making a bad decision I'll regret while I'm still in the process of making it. My life is Peep Show and I'm Mark Corrigan. However, all is not lost. I still have an ace up my sleeve. This is something I actually discovered many years ago now after a friendly German exchange student managed to charm me into donating money to the heart foundation. I might find it really hard to stop the pretty lady or the polite foreigner from roping me into these schemes. But at the end of the day, after we've said our goodbyes and I've been thanked for being such a kind person (sucker) I can still quite confidently call up to organisation and cancel my membership over the phone. Because no matter how friendly, charming and coercive the people they send out for the face-to-face stuff you can be almost certain that they'll still have an unhelpful, moody twat manning the phone lines who you will happily and easily be able to say no to.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower - A Movie Review

Last week I reviewed To The Moon, a beautifully underplayed and subtle game that moved me to tears and compelled me to recommend it to anyone I could make listen. This week I'm reviewing a movie that the internet has been banging on about for ages and that is desperately trying to touch and inspire everyone with all the subtlety of an brooding teenager writing suicide poetry in blood. Yes this week it's The Perks of Being a Wallflower that's wandered unknowingly into my dungeon and  I plan to show it just how little love I "feel it deserves". But before we dive in I just want to make it absolutely clear that I'm reviewing the movie and not the book. It should also be noted that I don't give a flying fuck about the book and all predictable attempts to convince me that the book is superior or that the movie "missed the point"  will be met with contempt and rejection. Or to put it in terms you might better understand "in this moment, I swear the amount I don't fucking care is infinite." Now on with the show.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a 'coming of age' movie by the producers of Juno, who are still as desperate as ever to get audiences everywhere to like their taste in music. We get it guys, you like Sonic Youth. Congratulations on being so alternative. It stars Logan Lerman, Ezra Miller and oh my fucking god Emma Watson. Speaking as the only person on planet Earth who is largely indifferent to Emma Watson and has no strong desire to fuck, marry or be her best friend I must admit that she is, along with the other leads, good in her role. Although I did find it unashamedly fan-servicing when her character first appears on screen in this sudden, out-of-place close up as if the whole cast and crew are preparing the audience to squeal with Emma Watson-adoring glee. It's like the scene was shot for her entrance to get a standing ovation. I bet they fucking wanted that.

The plot follows a freshman at high school called Charlie who's only friend recently committed suicide and who has mental issues stemming from a big dark secret that you'll have to wait until the end of the movie to discover. Although quite frankly given how heavy handed the plot is at times I wouldn't be surprised if you managed to figure it out long before then. But anyway Charlie ends up in the company of two senior year students who befriend him and open him up to the world. Their names escape me but all you need to know is that one a playful, quirky gay man and the other is the gentle love interest who is trying to escape her past of sexual promiscuity and feelings of worthlessness. From the get go the movie is packed with personalized mix-tapes that express true feelings, the sharing of vinyls and books, heads being poked out of moving vehicles and drugs being taken to indicate that a character is being tipped over the edge. All the while the musical soundtrack butts in with all the producers favorite songs to cry or feel whimsical to.

Which brings me to one of my two main criticisms of this movie. It's never, ever even remotely subtle. For a movie that dishes out enough pretentious quotes to crash tumblr it certainly expresses no faith in its audiences ability to pick up on things. "Oh I didn't tell you this before but those two have a history of fighting over guys." "Oh by the way I lost my virginity at 11 to my dads work colleague and I've fucked a lot of people since then." "Oh I love you. Let's kiss and then ignore our feelings for the rest of the movie like idiots." Fucking chill out movie. And this brings me onto my other criticism which is that all the meaty issues within the movie are often only touched upon. Heaven forbid you take some time away from celebrating how cool it is to be a hipster and actually develop your key plot points and relationships. For example towards the end of the movie there's a scene Charlie shares with his English teacher that I realized I was supposed to care deeply about but just didn't because this apparently deep and respectful relationship was largely developed off-screen. I even know from the moment that fucking English teacher was introduced that he was going to be an inspirational friend and father figure and I still managed to be surprised when it actually happened. It's kinda funny how it's always the English teacher that ends up adopting this role isn't it? Nobody ever gets all "Dead Poets Society" for their woodwork teacher do they? But I guess in this plot it makes sense because Charlie wants to be a writer. Oh did I not mention that? Well that's because I fucking forgot. Want to take a guess why I forgot? Because it's barely ever mentioned.

What might surprise you deeply at this point is that I actually don't hate The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I kinda thought it was fine and probably would have gone a little easier on it if it wasn't so bloody impressed with itself. At it's core The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a good movie that deserved to be better but was let down by the mishandling of important plot points and the appeals it makes to the egos of its target audience. For a movie that says "You see things.You keep quiet about them. And you understand." it sure tries its hardest to make sure you understand things by shouting them at you.

Review: To The Moon

For anybody out there who has ever held a deep longing to see me in tears I have some frustrating news. I'm afraid that in the early hours past midnight you just missed a golden opportunity to peer in through my window and see the swollen man-tears that cascaded down the contours of my face, illuminated by the gentle blue glow of my computer monitor, as I played the hauntingly beautiful To The Moon.

If you take anything away from this review, or even this whole blog, it should be this. Go out and play To The Moon! I cannot emphasize the value of this experience enough. It's only $10 on Steam. If you can't buy it for whatever reason find a YouTube video of someone playing through it and watch the whole thing. It's only about 3-4 hours long and well worth every second you dedicate to it. Just do whatever it takes to experience this story. Your level of gaming experience is irrelevant. Your feelings about video games as a form of entertainment is irrelevant. This goes beyond such worthless boundaries. Fuck target audiences, the target audience is anyone capable of feeling.

So yeah I like this game. And now that I'm all done with my grand romantic gestures it's time to talk about why I recommend it so highly. I think it's pretty safe to say you'll discover extremely quickly whether or not you'll like To The Moon. The game opens with a delicately beautiful piano piece playing as the camera pans away from the scenery of a cliff-side lighthouse overlooking the ocean with a full, yellow moon hanging overhead; to a scene of two children playing the song in a large house just a short walk away. This tranquil moment is then suddenly ruined by a sudden smashing noise. The camera cuts away to introduce the player characters Dr. Rosaline and Dr. Watts, a bickering odd couple who work for an agency that is hired to help grant the wishes of dying people by making minor alterations to their memory via advanced simulation technology. Or some shit like that. Like an episode of Doctor Who the details only matter if you're ignoring the bigger, more important picture. What's interesting to note is that although you play the game and drive the plot as these characters they are by no means the main characters. It's an interesting and effective story telling device in a game to be essentially playing the role that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern play in Shakespeare's Hamlet. The real stars of the show are Johnny, the man who hired the agency to have his wish fulfilled of visiting the moon (although he can't explain why), and River, Johnny's recently deceased wife who's life is explored through Johnny's memories.

The soundtrack is also supreme and plays a vital role in the narrative

Actually it's worth mentioning at this point that much of the games story is told by traversing back through Johnny's memories of key moments in his life as the player characters try to figure out how best to alter Johnny's memories in order for him to die thinking he's lived out his dream. It sounds very complicated when explained like this but rest assured the game is gentle in taking players by the hand and guiding them along this journey. The game presents many intriguing mysteries quite early on in the plot. Many things are introduced that you know are eerily significant puzzle pieces and it is a pleasure to gradually watch them come together and be explained. Little throw away things from early in the game will take on a whole new level of significance by the games end, and it's these moments in particular that choked me up. The story is expertly told and none of the elements feel overdone or heavy handed. The dialogue moves from reflective, moving and mournful to genuinely charming and funny to strike this excellent balance in tone throughout the story. Nothing is ever jarring or sudden and writer/director Kan Gao should be applauded for taking the time to carefully develop his characters and narrative in ways that are natural, subtle and respectful. So much of this could have been easily mishandled, pushing the tone into melodrama territory as we so often see in video game narration. But by the standards of any media format this story is superbly told and well worth anybody's time.

In fact it's ironic that it will perhaps be video game players who may find the game most lacking. This is because the gameplay is almost none-existent to the point in which the game basically plays itself. A simple point and click interface is used for controlling your characters and navigating them around what is essentially one big, easy treasure hunt. There's probably a fairly strong argument that could be made that this barely qualifies as a game at all and is instead more of an interactive story. But honestly who gives a fuck what it is? From the outset I was so captivated and emotionally invested in the story I barely noticed the gameplay was so scant, and then when I did I didn't care. I'm actually inclined to applaud the gameplay for being so simple and allowing anyone capable of navigating a DVD menu the opportunity to fully engage with what To The Moon offers. I honestly love video games as a medium for both entertainment and expression but when something like this offers up 3-4 hours of genuine human moments then as long as the gameplay isn't broken or detractive I don't give a shit how I move the story along. I'd burn myself to move a story like this along.

So as I've by now made perfectly clear, To The Moon is a brilliant experience for anyone regardless of how you choose to specifically classify it. It's cheap, it's a relatively short investment and it's easy for anyone to experience to completion. If there exists any such creature parading under the guise of a human being who isn't even slightly moved by the experience offered here then I honestly pity them and would rather they were sent somewhere far away from me. Preferably the moon.

Why Can't I Read Anymore?

Fun fact: When you read the Holy Bible upside down it reveals conspiracy theories about The Beatles.

Many people who haven't known me long are often surprised to learn that before I was a chemistry nerd I was also an arts and literature nerd. Throughout high school I read a variety of books, I wrote song lyrics, short stories and poetry. I did quite a lot of drama and did 4 units of English for the HSC, which included the composition of a sizable major work. 

I think this surprises people because for whatever reason, especially at university level, people align themselves with the major faculties and tend to ignorantly lash out at the others. My biggest guess is that these people have commited to a career associated with this field and are determined to justify this choice by ruthlessly attacking and disregarding the specialties and fields that differ most from their own. I've personally been the victim of sneers from arts students of a university I don't even attend, who were quick to judge my character based on my "inferior university".  I'm personally guilty of cheekily winding up some of my closest arts friends, but I do so only in jest with no malice or ill will behind it. But all of that aside I was once very heavily aligned with the arts and humanities. I was once hoping to become a librarian and was enrolled briefly in a Bachelor of Communications. Looking back on this recently something has struck me about my more recent years and I find myself asking myself one simple question.

 

Now just to clear this point up right away, of course I can actually read. I posses the necessary mental faculties and skills to read books, even more challenging ones. But over that past few years or so I've found that reading a book takes a considerably longer amount of time. I'll often start a book enthusiastically like a puppy who knows it's time for walkies, but it's not uncommon for me to clean up a desk several months later to find a dusty copy of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein with a bookmark a third of the way through. I was fucking enjoying that book too. To this day I want to finish it and have every intention of picking it back up again, but why did I stop? Not only to I find even the most engaging books "putdownable" but I also manage to spend weeks on end wrapped up in enough other things to make me forget I was reading it.

In an attempt to explain this and shift the blame from myself I've come up with some explanations to my behaviour. Firstly and most simply understood, I blame the internet. Of course I've had access to the internet all the time but as soon as connections become fast and accessible enough for chumps like me to use social networking sites and stream television a non-trivial ammount of time has become dedicated to being online. Not only that, but it has meant that I am used to instant gratification. There's never a moment gone by where I feel like I'm completely "on top" of the vast amount of potentially, personally interesting media that I can readily access at any time I see fit. It used to be that we had to fit ourselves into the schedule of entertainment such as tv and when we were free if nothing was on we could easily turn to reading, because reading was one of the first sources of "instant gratification'. Before the internet nothing could really compete with it.

Maybe if more women wanted me to read I'd be more consistent?

The other problem is perhaps even less conquorable and that is this. I'm going to die. I don't know when and I don't know how it will come to happen but there's no escaping the knowledge that my time on this earth is finite. As a consequence of this I am accutely aware that I will not be able to enjoy all the media out there, or even all the entertainment that would likely appeal to me. My leisure time is as limited a resource as fossil fuels and the knowledge that each choice I make regarding how I spend my free time may mean I never ever get around to the other option makes it very appealing to avoid making the choices at all. And books fall short in this respect because they have the disadvantage of being long. Books are a long term investment in a way that a movie, a song, a TV show and even a video game manage not to be. A book is a large scented candle whilst other media are fireworks. One pleasantly burns away over many hours whilst the other is desperate to instantly stimulate.

But despite this knowledge and these hurdles I've been starting to rework my reading muscles and have managed to get through sizable books like Steve Tolt's A Fraction of the Whole. As I type I am 160 pages into The Count of Monte Cristo and have strength in my conviction to see it through to the end. With a small pile of books to follow it up with I'm quietly hopeful that I will manage to burn through many more candles before I'm snuffed.

Highschool of the Dead - An Anime Review

Believe it or not, I actually know quite a lot of people who are completely unwilling to engage in anything remotely Japanese. Living with Joey I hear the phrase "sus Asian shit" more often than I hear the phrase "Supernatural is that rare kind of show that actually does horror and comedy well" (a lot). Which, by the way, it fucking isn't. In the past the whole "what the fuck Japan?" thing was something I didn't completely understand or buy into. Sure Japan had its quirky moments, but I didn't think these were ever deal breakers. But several years and several dozen anime series later I finally understand. There is definately a sliding scale of Japaneseness to any Japanese media or entertainment and for any individual Westerner there is definately a point of said scale where you've gotta throw your hands up in the air and scream "that's all I can stands, I can't stands no more!"

Every anime, even the ones I loved too much to notice it in, has something very Japanese in it that risks alienating a portion of the Western market. Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex had the sqeaky, child-voiced robots. Death Note had that annoying goth chick.  Bayonetta had...well...Bayonetta.And Highschool of the Dead had massive quantities of, well, titties.

Fun fact: It took 7 animators 7 days just to draw those.

Yes, lots and lots a big ol' titties. Giant, jiggling, trembling masses of mammary. Even all the normal highschool girls are boasting double D's, so they really had to go the extra mile when it came time to design the typical "ditsy blonde girl with massive bouncing breasts". I mean just look at the picture above. That one looks like it's devouring the pink haired girl. Oh and there's also lots of panties, arses, crotch shots and even a few cheeky nipples thrown in there.

Because we all know what goes on when girls bathe together.

But overt and gratuitious sexualisations aside, Highschool of the Dead is a pretty good anime. There's plenty of tension, high emotion and frantic action in this zombie anime, which is really all you could hope for in a slice of zombie entertainment. And at times, although only in the minority of instances, the sexualisations and over the top action work together brilliantly to create a climatic "holy fuck" moment, much in the same way as Bayonetta.

Story is kept pretty brief and basic. One day at school a zombie outbreak starts and as the students escape they discover that the event is much more widespread and disasterous than they had initially thought. From there a few students form a group and make it their mission to seek out remaining family members. There are also a few romantic subplots and love triangles thrown into the mix to create human dramas. Overall it's effective, consistant and works to create good survival drama, horror and action.

The big problem for me is the ending. It doesn't have one. It just decides to stop one random episode without addressing or tying up any of the story threads that have been dangling throughout the series. Dramas, tensions and romances just build and build and build but nothing ever comes of it, leaving you down a few hours with blue balls the size of the blonde girls' knockers. What is the point in creating all these engaging characters and developing them well and cooking up some nice juicy romances if you're never going to serve it on a plate with a nice garnish and an appropriate wine? Being tantalized by heady aromas is only enjoyable if you eventually get to eat what you're smelling, otherwise it's just torture.

I do know that this, like pretty much all anime, is based off a manga. Which might mean that more episodes could happen, although this series is a few years old now so who knows? But setting that massive con aside Highschool of the Dead is definately worth a look-in, even if you aren't normally big into anime. I mean if people can check out Firefly knowing full well it's been cancelled forever then why can't they check out this?

PC Box Fodder - A Few of the Shittest Pokemon Across the Generations

Pokemon Black 2 and White 2 have hit the stores this month and to celebrate their availability I'd like to personally shit on all the pokemon I don't like. The list is by no means comprehensive but I feel like I've covered many of my major gripes across the wide spectrum and many of the other pokemon I hate basically for reasons already covered here. But enough of these boring qualifying statements, it's time to get ranty.

Castform

Phoar! Check out the puppies on that pokemon. I mean in all honesty why does this pokemon have a pair of giant breasts? Oh yeah right, Japan, forgot about that. Don't get me wrong, normally I could get down with a buxom pokemon but the fact remains that castform is shit in battle. It has one of these quirky abilities to change it's elemental type based on the weather conditions during battle, which in a practical sense means this pokemon is unpredictable and thus unreliable. So, ya know, thanks for the tits and all but I'm gonna shove my castform straight in Bebe's box. And that's not a euphamism.

Pretty sure Castform could use the support of a bra.

Tentacool

You know, Zubat really does get a lot of schtick for being an annoying, pest-like pokemon, and rightly so. But far more annoying than Zubat, at least I find, is that fucking ocean cockroach known as Tentacool. Yeah cool! Tentacool. What a cool pun. Tentacool. Cool. TentaCOOL.

What a fucking disaster.

Cool story bro

I mean I guess I could handle that godawful name if I didn't have it shoved in my face every 5 seconds whilst I'm just trying to cross the fucking lake. As well as that they always seem to be rediculously underleveled for how far along they appear in any of the games, so they're not even good for experience slaughter. And then they poison while you're just trying to get to a proper trainer battle. What a Tentafool.


Farfetch'd

Here's another generation one masterpiece. A lot of misty-eyed, 20-something fuckwits argue that generation one is the golden era for pokemon; containing all the most majestic, powerful and well designed pokemon ever seen. But it's worth remembering that for every Blastoise or Dragonite there was a Ratata or a Grimer. I mean just look at this fucking duck holding a vegetable it will be served alongside in a soup and tell me it's part of the pokemon master race.

A leak and a monobrow? Shit! You'd better lock up your daughters.

Again, it's weak as shit and can't even evolve, so it never achieves greatness in and sense. At least they're not pests in major, unavoidable areas like Zubat or Tentacool.

Pidove

This fellow is probably one of the first pokemon you'll bump into in Pokemon Back 2 or White 2 and to be fair it evolves into a decent pokemon. I don't even mind how it looks, in its first form anyway. Hell, if I had it my way I'd just whack this guy in Generation one and pretend Pidgey never happened. But seriously Gamefreak, we're all good for normal/flying types thanks.

"Hi guys, I'll be your 3 formed, normal/flying type this generation. I'm cute at first but then I evolve into Tranquil."

Ditto

Ditto is useful, but fucked up. In the very first games he was the "quirky changing one" (like Castform). But unlike Castform, Ditto became useful for breeding after generation 2. It's useful because it's ability to tranform meant it could breed with any pokemon of any gender. So it's useful and never leaves the daycare, but it's essentially the biggest slut in any work of fiction ever. Castform may have breasts but Ditto has the tits, arse, cock and cunt of any and all living creatures and will happily provide them on demand for anyone who gives it the time of day. You know how humanity contracted HIV and consequently AIDS from gorillas? Well I like to think that in the world of Pokemon Ditto is the only living creature with every STI to ever have existed.

"I can be anything you desire baby."

Luvdisc

A stupidly weak water-type pokemon that looks like a loveheart with a stupid smoochy face. Also they spelt "love" wrong in its name and it's not disc shaped. 

It's eaither a heart or a big, pink pair of buttcheeks with the arsehole poking out the wrong side.

Alomomola

Another name gripe. The "fun" thing about Alomomola is it's a palindrome, so it's spelt the same backwards as forwards. So whoopie to that shit. The other thing that pisses me off is that it looks like it should be the evolved form of Luvdisc. It looks similar and it's pokedex entry calls it an "emotion" pokemon like Luvdisc. But no, instead of improving Luvdisc they just chuck a shit word game in there.

The really fun thing about Alomomola is that its name sounds like a naughty body part.

Gothita

Gothita is actually a pretty good psychic-type pokemon and I have used one happily in my main party. But my god, what the fuck have they done to it? It looks like an underage, Bratz doll sex slave. I really shouldn't be able to see the pronounced arse of an infant pokemon. Ditto might be into that shit but I most certainly am not.

"Oh no everyone can see my bum."

Trubbish

This pokemon is a bag of garbage with a grumpy face drawn on. They must've been really keen to get home the evening this pokemon was conceptualised.

It's a fucking bag of garbage. 'Nuff said.

Tokyo Jungle - a PS3 Review

Don't let these cute creatures fool you. I'd seen these tiny puffballs take down a cow and strip it the the bones. Okay so it was just in a videogame, but I'll be damned if the images aren't seared permanently into my brain.

Tokyo Jungle is a PSN exclusive game that lets you play as a variety of domestic and exotic animals struggling to survive in Tokyo after mankind has vanished. What happened to humanity is left largely a mystery, although collectible newspaper articles and weblogs hint at what might of happened. Personally I'm happy not knowing, I find the mystery much more eerie. Besides it ultimately doesn't matter. We lost, we're gone, our pets are in charge now and we need to accept it.

At its core, Tokyo Jungle is a simple and repetitive arcade-style game. As a word 'repetitive' gets a pretty bad wrap in the world of gaming, but in the case of Tokyo Jungle it's that sort of addictive repetition that a well-designed mobile phone game might have. I mean sure I played through this level 20 times before, but this time I can play as a beagle wearing headphones. You start the game with only two animals to choose from but each of those can unlock another when certain conditions are met, with the added possibility of finding clothing and accessories for your animal. I don't know about you but I'm willing to put in a metric fucktonne of hours just to see how pervy these outfit and animal combinations can get. There are two main modes to play; survival and the story chapters (which must be unlocked in survival). The story chapters offer a few scenarios to play out as a seletion of animals, each with a certain amount of humour, charm and characterisation built into it. Most of the lasting appeal is found in survival mode, where you must eat, fight and fuck in order to keep your species in the gene pool. It's quite simple yet has enough depth to it to remain engaged. You have a hunger bar that keeps decreasing, so obviously you've got to make sure you're constantly fed. But you can't live forever, so you need to reproduce to keep the game going. But what of the females? Well they don't even present themselves until you've marked your territory in several key locations in the area. Then there's choosing. Do you want a guarenteed fuck or would you rather hold out for the finest pussy that the feline kingdom has to offer? The better the mate the better the stats of your offspring, who you will go on to play as. But in order to bury your bone in the alpha bitch you've got to become alpha yourself, by securing large quantities of food. And oh fuck is that smog? Better get the fuck out of this district before I assimilate a lethal dose into my system. All the while the clock is ticking by, keeping track of how many years you've managed to not be an evolutionary dead end. When you finally die, and you will die, the game tallies up your achievements and time spent on this earth and gives you a nice fat score that you can stick up on a leaderboard and say to yourself "boy, I'm so much shitter at this game than everyone else".

The game also has a multiplayer option, which I've been enjoying with my housemate and podcast collegue Joey. Doing so allows you to form a pack and what's interesting is that you don't have to be of the same species. You can literally be playing on the same team as an animal you'd normally consider as food. Would you like to see a velociraptor work collaboratively with a rabbit? Well lucky for you because this is possible in Tokyo Jungle.

Of course, the game isn't without its flaws. Many of the aforementioned animals take many hours and playthroughs to unlock and you're forced to play as a lot of shit creatures before you finally earn the right to play as a tiger or a chimp. There's a definite sense of reward to be found here and it's nice to experience everything but on the other hand it's likely to be very offputting to newcomers to be landed with only the pomeranian and the deer to play as without a fucking clue how to unlock any of the other 80 or so animals. Also, it pisses me off to no end to see that there are a few awesome animals that are left out of the game unless you pay for them with real money. If you were hoping to just buy the game and have instant access to the panda or the kangaroo them I'm affraid you get to eat more shit than a starving terrier, cos that's gonna cost you extra.

But minor gripes aside there's a lot of fun to be had here. It's a lot of simple, well thought out retro gaming in a unique, intense and rewarding package. For just under $16 Australian you'll laugh, scream, clench your teeth, tense your buttocks and yell at your friend to stop eating the rabbits you killed. All in all, sounds like good value to me.

Of Closing Doors and Opening Windows

Anyone who knows me will probably agree that "mild" is about as enthusiastic as I get in regards to celebrations. I rarely "woo" and can only be coaxed into following up with a "hoo" whilst heavily medicated. A very close friend recently called me a reserved person, which I felt was wildly inaccurate but didn't dare say it aloud. So in light of this; knowing me, knowing you, uhuuuuuh; I'd like to say a big congratulatiuons to me for finishing a Bachelor of Science with a Chemistry Major!

Are you using my helium to make your voice like that?

Anyway enough of that, wouldn't want to lose my composure. So that's all the personal life big news out of the way, so now is time for news on my projects. As you can see Infinite Possiblogities has come out of hibernation once again and I have enough steam left to sustain me for at least a few more posts, which I'm sure is massively important to some freak out there (I love you really). Some of you may know me best as the second half of the comedic Still Not Happy duo, which has branched out drastically from the podcasts and now includes a radio show which is broadcast on Sundays from 6 to 8 pm on Tune! FM 106.9. So just in case you're some sort of Mars dwelling gorilla and didn't know of these outrageously popular developements you can now consider yourself part of the cutting-edge. So radio, podcasts and blogs are all going to be happening from here on out and will no doubt make a lovely change for me next year from crying in the corner of a chemistry lab somewhere wishing I'd never chosen to do honours. So watch this space for much funnier material coming very soon.

Titwank.

See, it's funnier already.

"Sir, I Think You've Had Enough"

So there I was on a Friday night, by myself, accidentally molesting random strangers as we all crowded around the understaffed bar waiting for our drinks. There are times in my life when I'm forced to reflect and reconsider my long-held belief that mankind is shit. This was not one of those occassions. Standing alone at the bar for 40 mins, gettting limply shoved about by women who don't find me appealing and men who don't find me threatening, I was given a lot of time to mull over the question "what the fuck am I doing here?"

Since turning 18 all those hazy years ago I have on many occassions decided that I hate going out to the pubs/clubs and vowed never to do so again. It's too pricey, too loud, too crowded and I can't engage in conversations with more than one person at a time because you can't ever hear the other person unless their lips are pressed to your cochlea. But despite my frustrations with the sticky floors and the prices of beer I always find myself presenting my drivers licence to the emotionless, brick shithouses with the earpieces that guard the entrance. I have a compulsion it seems. A sickness. And this sickness isn't just classic alcohol dependence; I can get my booze elsewhere and for a fraction of the cost. So what the fuck is my problem? It's time to put on our overthinking caps and explore the possibilities.

1. I love meeting new people
To all of you who think this is a viable option, "Hey, welcome to my blog. If you like your opinions angry and vulgur you've come to the right place."

2. To attract a female
I did some number crunching recently. By using the same calculations one would use to calculate the percentage yield in chemistry I calculated how much success I had yielded in my sexual experiments. By replacing the term "yield" in the equation with the term "hook ups" (girlfriends notwithstanding) I calculated my success at roughly 1.42%. Which means that for every 100 times I go out to drink in a public venue I can expect to "get some" with around 1 or 2 women. So that surely can't be my motivation for going to the pub as I haven't yet commited suicide or been sectioned.

3. I have money to piss about
I'm willing to admit there have been times where this was the case, mostly in the presence of my closest friends on those infrequent occassions where a sizable group of us are all in the same city at the same place with the necessary funds and free time. These factors unfortunatley don't come together as often as I'd like, but like a mirage in the desert they offer me the hope that one day I will go out again and have genuine fun.

4. I love to dance
Fuck dancing.

5. I love the music
In comparison to dancing.

6. The previously described objections are overruled by my smug sense of superiority knowing that I was right to hate this place and everyone in it.
If you think this is a viable option I'd just like to take some time aside to personally thank you for setting aside a no doubt sizable amount of free time to sit at your computer and read through my wealth of blog entries. We've come a long way together my friend.

Reading Into The "Butterflies" Film Clip

As part of my ongoing mission to slowly leak personal information onto the internet so that stalkers can look for patterns in my behaviour and eventually kidnap and sell me to the Russian mafia as a sex slave, I have decided to share something about my day to day life. As a logical extension of "listening to the song Friday on Fridays" I've recently developed a "Song of the Day" list whereby every named day of the week (except Sunday as of yet) has it's own rediculous song that must be listened to that day. For all you Buffalo Bill's out there the list goes a little something like

Mon - Iceberg Season by Riff Raff and 50 Tyson (because they ball on a Monday and make it feel like the weekend
Tues - Dust by Frank Ocean
Wed - Wonton Soup by Lil B (just coz they both start with W)
Thurs - Butterflies by Alana Lee (just coz I wanted it back to back with "Friday" for an Ark Music double)
Fri - Friday by Rebecca Black (duh)
Sat - Get Down by B4-4 (just coz the boy band vibe reminded me of Saturday mornings watching Video Hits in the 90's)
Sun - Open to suggestions from the general public (guide me fans).

I mention this briefly because today is Thursday and that means my song for today is Butterflies, which has a cutesy, innocent but nonetheless stupid film clip that I want to read into for shits and giggles.. What can I say? I'm bored with reviews for now. The video can be viewed right here in the post in a place that I hope is obvious to you, I suggest watching it for the sake of this post.


So for the duration of the first chorus the stage is set for some high end drama. We see some sweeping shots of a bored classroom before we focus on Alana herself, who stops her dilegent study at regular intervals to lock eyes with the blank-faced, dough-eyed boy with the red shirt and shitty Justin Bieber hairstyle. A note is passed back across to Alana from the boy and he afixes her with another vacuous yet longing gaze.

We then cut to a scene in the playground, where the ruthless social paradigms of the teenage world provide fertile ground for bitches to be bitchy and where quiet, thoughtfull girls like Alana are easy prey. Alana and Boring McBlankface are talking, smiling and finding gentle facination the the computer generated image of a butterfly that has appeared before them. This inspires Alana to spend valuable school time ignoring her education and attempt to draw a more convincing butterfly. It is here we are introduced to the school bitch and her two tag along drones. I don't know why teenage whorebags seen to come in threes and yet still manage to have a clear, unquestioning leader? I guess it's so their one-dimensional characters will add up to make 3, but I digress. Anyway Bitch is handing out what appear to be invites and is hoping to invite Captain Dull but seems irritated that Alana somehow caught wind of the party as well by, I dunno, I guess being right there in mid conversation with him at the time. I mean what did she expect? I'm not some poppy exclusive bimbo who throws "cool people only" parties to get cute boys to make out with me, but even I know that you're supposed to sneakily invite people away from the prying eyes of people you don't want coming. So anyway out of spite Bitch decides to mock Alana's picture of a butterfly before tossing it in a bin. It's pretty rich to scoff at the childishness of drawing butterflies whilst handing out pink invitations that have "It's a Party!" scrawled across them. Also the invite clearly has no information on it regarding times, dates or places and is therefore completely useless.

Back in class Alana appears to be replying to the note that was passed to her in the opening. Ok so we're skipping about on the timeline here but whatever. Anyway she is caught out by the teacher who is apparently irritated that everybody treats his classroom like a speed dating service and decided to get Alana to bring the note out the front to "read it to the class" much to the smug amusement of Bitchy-Spice. Perhaps as a result of embarrassment Alana has some sort of cosmic trip where she imagines some terrible rapper is taking over her song whilst a dream sequence of the party takes place. Alana catches Le Bitch making moves on her man and old Passive Pete just sits there like a lost sheep while the Bitch holds his hand and projects onto him like he's a real life Ken Doll.

Alana then snaps out of the dream and decided that the best thing to do would be to sing the contents of the note to the boy in front of the whole class. Gosh it was lucky the note she wrote was also the chorus to her song. As she does this the camera pans across the class who not only seem to vary in age from 13 to 18, but also don't seem at all surprised or taken aback by this sudden musical number and instead just nod stoically in approval. Even the teacher folds his arms and nods with this look on his face like "fuck yes, respect" which is perhaps one of the many reasons why the children seem able to do whatever they like in his classroom. It might also help if he actually wrote stuff on the board but whatever. The story closes with the Boy finally getting his shit together and leaving a note on Alana's front door. These kids and their fucking notes. Anyway Alana opens it up and it's the picture of the butterfly she drew earlier that got thrown out, which isn't so much an appology or an admission of feelings as much as it is evidence that he trawls through garbage collecting things that girls have touched. But whatever, Alana seems pleased and that's really all the film clip wants us to care about. Actually the message of the film clip has this slight air of "let's drop everything and pander to the romantic whims of hormonal teens." I also can't tell if that whole party rap scene is supposed to be a dream or what. The blurred lense effect and the fact that what happens in it seems to have little bearing on any of the other events makes me feel like it might be, but to what end and purpose is beyond me.

It's actually interesting looking at this song alongside Rebecca Black's Friday because as previously mentioned they are both produced by Ark Music Factory, the co-founder of which is the same guy who shoehorns his out of place and terrible rap bits into each of the songs. Actually in both Friday and Butterflies I'd argue quite strongly that his presence is the worst part of each song, especially in Friday where he doesn't even rhyme anything and literally just describes overtaking a school bus. If you're unconvinced of his inferiority just check out his own rap version of Friday. I can't find a link for it but it used to be on youtube. Feel free to search for it but be warned, shit's fucked up yo.

Rayman Origins

Yippee! Today I'm going to bore you all with more shit that I love. You'll remember a few months back I failed spectacularly to name a game of the year for 2011 because the games industry thrust way more big dicks in my direction than I had orifices to appreciate them with. It didn't help that one of them was Skryim, which has 300 hours of content or something terrifying like that. So after some careful organising and a few months of having each game line up to take turns in giving me a thorough seeing to I have decided, to the interest of nobody, that Rayman Origins was by far the best game I played in 2011.

Giving Rayman Origins GOTY was not something I expected to find myself doing. It was up against some powerful competition and it was nothing more than a humble 2D platformer. It's nothing more than simple runny, jumpy fun. Sure it has a few nice little touches like wall running and wall jumps but there's nothing really new in the repertoire. So it just goes to show that you don't need crazy new ideas and gimmicks or even high polygon count 3D models of realistic Russian soldiers to make a fun game. Just really fucking awsome design choices will do the trick. Some of the best choices in Rayman Origins were made in regards to the difficulty. Rayman Origins is hard, very hard indeed. But really the game is only as hard as you make it. By that I mean the hardest level in the game is optional and can only be unlocked after finishing a series of slightly less hard speed run style levels. Hunting lums and freeing electoons presents another optional, yet satisfying challenge as they will require more advanced platforming skills as well as a keen eye for potential hidden areas. Additionally the challenge in the game is never made overly frustrating or unfair because Ubisoft decided to abolish any lives systems and use regular and forgiving checkpoints so that although the game is extremely challenging it is broken down into managable pieces. This makes the game very addictive indeed in a way that I haven't seen in a game in ages. People talk about Skyrim hijacking massive chunks of life but for me that was nothing compared to Rayman Origins forever tempting me to move forward and seek out the next challenge. It's also the most rewarding game I've played in ages (probably since Bayonetta) with more than a few occassions of me yelling "Fuck! Yes!" at the TV with some sort of obscene gesture accompanying it. You will find yourself being amazed at your own skill and at times needing to put down the controller and stare at the screen, all the while thinking did I just do that?

The level design and art direction are nothing short of superb. The platforms and jumps and enemies and lums are all perfectly placed to ensure the game has a nice smooth flow and rhythm to the way it plays. Think along the lines of Donkey Kong Country 2 and 3 on the SNES mixed in with a bit of the indie hit Super Meat Boy and that will give you a fair idea of how the game will feel to play. And all the while admist this wonderful yet challenging gameplay are the most beautiful and varied environments. I'd wife a bitch a fifth as pretty as this on looks alone. So the gameplay is excellent and the levels are excellent and the graphics are gorgeous so here's the part where we talk about the cons.

There are none.

Ok ok so I guess the story is kind of baffling. Not that it even fucking matters. Honestly if you can't have fun with this game because you don't feel the story is up to speed then I don't want you reading my blog. You are beyond help. But the story is basically Rayman and his friends snore so loudly they wake up the dead. I'm not exactly sure what the motivations are beyond this point for Rayman and pals to journey through these rediculously challenging levels except that they somehow find it equally as rewarding and fun as the player. But honestly I didn't even stop to think about what the end goal actually was until I was nearing the end of the game anyway, I guess Mario has conditioned me to stop caring about the story in 2D platformers.

As if all this wasn't enough but the game also supports 4 player co-op. Not that I ever used it but many trusted sources tell me that it works really well and isn't crap like it kinda is in New Super Mario Bros Wii. So there you have it. Rayman Origins; the best 2D platformer I've ever played, the best Rayman game by far and the best game released in 2011. It's been released on all home consoles, 3DS, Vita and even PC so you have absolutely no fucking excuse not to play it. For what it's worth I played the 360 version.

Peep Show

Over the past 10 years or so as I angsted my way through the teen years I underwent a multitude of personal, emotional and mental transformations. One such change that I don't often think back on is I learnt to not idolize or look up to anyone. It wasn't a sudden conscious decision made after some soul-crushing encounter with the man I admired most or anything, but rather a natural and organic process that resulted from curiosity. Basically I would like a band or whatever and out of a desire to dig deeper I would discover things about the band, music aside, that I wasn't myself interested in. For example I loved the Smashing Pumpkins and still do, but I also think that Billy Corgan (their front man) is pretentious and weird. I liked Nirvana but I think Kurt Cobain was a bit of a rambling madman. So as time went on I learnt that people and their creative works are often very different things and I stopped treating people as idols and heros and instead opted to treat them as people.

But in more recent years I've changed again. As a result of treating people as people I've found that I've naturally sifted out the people who interest me least and I'm left with people who's personalities are more in line with my own. People who I genuinely respect because of what they say and think. David Mitchell is, as many of my close friends will confirm, one of these people. Now that's David Mitchell the British comedian/actor, not to be confused with the conservative politician, the author, the American voiceover actor or the Canadian lacrosse player all of the same name. It's been a relatively recent thing but I've spent many hours being amused by him as he makes guest appearances on QI or watching compilation videos of him going on hilarious rants on various other Britich panel shows. I watched his sketch comedy show and David Mitchell's soapbox. But it wasn't until recently I started watching Peep Show. Perhaps it was because I knew it wasn't written by David Mitchell or his comedy partner Robert Webb? But eventually at the recommendation of my brothers I decided to give it a shot.

Peep Show is, as the name doesn't suggest, about 2 best friends and room mates sharing uncomfortable, passive, withdrawn and dysfunctional lives together as they try desperately to find women and live fullfilling lives. Mark, played by David Mitchell, is a repressed history enthusiast eternally stuck on the middle rung of the corporate ladder in which he works. While Jeremy (often referred to as Jez) is more outgoing but crippled by incompotence, selfishness, unemployment and a dream of being a successful musician that will never come to fruition. Watching these two men try and fail to break away from these moulds is esentially the crux of the show. And it works, it's really funny.

But that's not to say it's perfect. If you're like me and watch things from beginning of series to end in large gulps rather than weekly nibbles will likely notice that the continuity from episode to episode can be a bit off. In a half hour comedy with very little in the way of an overarching plot it isn't really an issue but considering these two men really hurt and damage the people around them it can be a little strange to see these same people happily chatting away in the next episode as if nothing happened. But there's another more personal issue I've unearthed with Peep Show. The fact is that Peep Show kinda scares me. It's not an irrational fear that you might feel in regards to a hellish monstrosity of twisted flesh and infinite hunger. Nor is it an exhaggerated fear you might feel alone at night after watching Wolf Creek. It's a much more real and pure terror than that. The issue stems from the fact that Peep Show is relatable. And deep within this relatability nestled amoungst the laughter and the squeemishness there's a fear that maybe I could become this. Maybe I'll end up stuck in a rut, devoid of meaningful relationships and pining after women who will never love or connect with me. My podcasting pal Joey and myself often joke that our lives will be like Peepshow, but it is a joke that has just trace amounts of poisonous truth. The truth is that Peep Show can be hard to watch, even if it is hilarious and totally worth it. It's uncomfortable in very much the same way that Ricky Gervais' shows The Office and Extras are. David Mitchell has himself comically described the show as "constant footage of two palled men in their thirties aging in real time" which perfectly encapsulates the humour and nihilism that the show is constantly toying with.

So by all means watch Peep Show, because it is most certainly funny and engaging. But it might not be everyones cup of tea and if you watch it late at night it might just give you nightmares.