I’m sure you’ll all agree that the period of time including the month of November and the beginning of December 2009 has been one of the most creative, side-splitting and intellectually verdant of the Imaginary Review’s history. Indeed, not since this blog began, more than two years ago, has there been a period containing as many well-written and interesting reviews of the calibre of those of the last few weeks.
For that reason, then, I think you’ll forgive me for indulging myself in a bout of recent nostalgia and self appreciation.
At the beginning of November I reviewed a batch of music merchandise that I had been sent in the past. Readers will recall my excellent analysis of the Rhianna-branded umbrella, which was “quite nice to look at, but quite useless for its intended purpose of rain-hindrance, given that it is made of fishnet stockings.” I was more complimentary towards the Jonas Brothers Acne Cream which, when applied to the face and neck, gave me a “tingly feeling not unlike that of realising one is reaching the apex of puberty.” My favourite comment on this post was by new reader Andrew, who said “I don’t get it, is this real, lol”.
An analysis of the latest reality TV shows came next, and I looked at programmes like Neck Swap, Pimp my Kidney and America’s Next Top Public Defecator. My favourite was What? You Think You Can Dance? Yeah Right. Prove It. No, Go On. Prove It. Dance For Me. Dance For Me. No, Dance For Me. See, You Won’t, Because You Can’t Dance, You Liar. In the review I said that “the ultra-aggressive attitude of the judges is refreshing to see, and many a hopeful contestant has been reduced to tears before even reaching the stage. The fact that many of the people trying out are as young as eight only adds to the pleasure.”
In that post, I didn’t reply to all of the comments I received, so I will attempt to fix that here, with some personal replies.
Mr London Street: You can, but you have to remove the false moustache first, otherwise they may take a swipe at your face.
Katrocket: I agree with you in principle, but I think the probability of seven people all falling into the trap at once is a little unlikely.
Beckeye: You’re wrong; I’ve never been to Norway.
My next review, of the new Cirque Du Soleil show Guttenberg (which chronicles the life of the popular actor from his appearance in the Police Academy films to his tragic death while filming 3 Men and a Baby Whale) contained one of the finest sentences ever written in the English language: “If I ever see another stilt-walking clown attempt to do handstands on a high wire again, I’ll saw all his limbs off.” I have been contacted by the Oxford English Dictionary people, who want to put it in the new edition as a definition of “Brilliance”.
Last week I reviewed the new romantic comedies for the holiday season, such as Colin Firth’s The Awkwardly Uptight Englishman Who Falls For a Fast-Talking American Girl and Has to Meet her Family at Christmas with Hilarious Results. My favourite part of this movie was when Firth stutters a lot and looks awkward while his girlfriend (Jennifer Garner) shows new facets to her personality when in her home setting. Also recommended in this post was the new Sarah Jessica Parker/Matthew Broderick film, The Man Who Married a Horse.
Finally, to respond to some personal emails I received regarding these posts, I would like to say the following:
Yes, I’d love to mention Tungsten Steel Wedding Bands in my blog, because they’re both stylish and durable.
I keep telling you: I’m married, and so are you.
You know the one! Of course you do! It’s the one that goes “Na na na na naaaar…na na na na nuuuuuur!” Don’t tell me you don’t recognise that!
Coming soon I shall be counting down some of my highlights of the last decade, as is customary towards the end of years that end with a '9'.
Finally, I’d like to remind everyone that it’s not too late to vote for me as Blogger of the Year in the Annual Drysdale Awards. If you haven’t already done so, I’d be very happy if you’d show your support, even if other people have been cheating.
Showing posts with label review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label review. Show all posts
Monday, 7 December 2009
Thursday, 11 June 2009
Wine wine wine wine WINE!
As summer approaches like an angry stepfather, a young man’s thoughts turn to wine. Ah, what could be more pleasant in the warmer months than sitting on someone’s cottage roof with a box of Sauvignon Blanc and a catapult? Nothing, that’s what. Here I will sample some of the new white delights and assess them with impartiality, except in one case where I have accepted a kickback.
The 2007 vintage of Chateau Le Bronjames Semillon has finally been released from captivity, and the prospect of tasting it is making everyone lick their lips like chapstick tasters. It certainly is excellent on the nose and rigid on the tongue but sadly it is also disappointing in the ears. There are overwhelming indications of carbuncle and mimsy in the aftertaste, and it does incur a tendency to be sodden in the backsplash. This wine gets a score of sixteen.
Dizzy Hipflask Wineries have just started exporting their Nomenclature Pinot Gris, which has a picture of a whelk on the bottle. After tasting it, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not a bad wine, really; it has just fallen in with some bad Pinot Noirs that have led it astray somewhat. It’s nothing that a good grounding – and, failing that, military school – won’t fix. C plus, with no prospect of parole.
The latest 2008 White Zinfandel Special Edition from Australia’s Sprightly Sprocket vineyards comes with a host of extras, including a making-of documentary, grape profiles and a wonderful series of winemaking bloopers. Bonus material aside, this wine holds its own extremely well, which is handy for those of us who have run out of wine glasses. A good slosh in the mouth produces a scintilla of trustworthiness and oak. Twenty-nine points (subject to change).
Fans of utterly awful wine will be thrilled by the latest crap from Ted and Frank Shufflebotham Wines of Distinction and Quality and all that other stuff that Wine People Want. Their new Sauvignon Blanc is like drinking a cup full of battery acid and sorrow. The bouquet has elements of primary school janitor’s jockstrap and sick, and the lingering aftertaste is like waking up in bed with your brother’s girlfriend and having no recollection of the previous night after the point when you decided to split up the taxis outside the club. Nul points.
Finally, there’s a new winemaker on the block: Pierre De Fenestration. Wow, he’s so cool and mysterious! Does anyone know anything about him? He makes all the other winemakers look dull and boring…I wonder if he has a girlfriend yet? I heard he has a motorcycle and told the Vinyard Inspector to “shove it”. Sigh, he’s so dreamy. Eighty-four points.
All of these wines are available from your local booze emporium, or that man who smells of chips and cigarettes in the park. If you are under 18, please get a passing stranger to purchase your wine for you. Contains sulphites.
The 2007 vintage of Chateau Le Bronjames Semillon has finally been released from captivity, and the prospect of tasting it is making everyone lick their lips like chapstick tasters. It certainly is excellent on the nose and rigid on the tongue but sadly it is also disappointing in the ears. There are overwhelming indications of carbuncle and mimsy in the aftertaste, and it does incur a tendency to be sodden in the backsplash. This wine gets a score of sixteen.
Dizzy Hipflask Wineries have just started exporting their Nomenclature Pinot Gris, which has a picture of a whelk on the bottle. After tasting it, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not a bad wine, really; it has just fallen in with some bad Pinot Noirs that have led it astray somewhat. It’s nothing that a good grounding – and, failing that, military school – won’t fix. C plus, with no prospect of parole.
The latest 2008 White Zinfandel Special Edition from Australia’s Sprightly Sprocket vineyards comes with a host of extras, including a making-of documentary, grape profiles and a wonderful series of winemaking bloopers. Bonus material aside, this wine holds its own extremely well, which is handy for those of us who have run out of wine glasses. A good slosh in the mouth produces a scintilla of trustworthiness and oak. Twenty-nine points (subject to change).
Fans of utterly awful wine will be thrilled by the latest crap from Ted and Frank Shufflebotham Wines of Distinction and Quality and all that other stuff that Wine People Want. Their new Sauvignon Blanc is like drinking a cup full of battery acid and sorrow. The bouquet has elements of primary school janitor’s jockstrap and sick, and the lingering aftertaste is like waking up in bed with your brother’s girlfriend and having no recollection of the previous night after the point when you decided to split up the taxis outside the club. Nul points.
Finally, there’s a new winemaker on the block: Pierre De Fenestration. Wow, he’s so cool and mysterious! Does anyone know anything about him? He makes all the other winemakers look dull and boring…I wonder if he has a girlfriend yet? I heard he has a motorcycle and told the Vinyard Inspector to “shove it”. Sigh, he’s so dreamy. Eighty-four points.
All of these wines are available from your local booze emporium, or that man who smells of chips and cigarettes in the park. If you are under 18, please get a passing stranger to purchase your wine for you. Contains sulphites.
Monday, 16 March 2009
Last Week’s Guest Post: Reviewed!
Thanks again to PMJG for his great guest post last week. I’m sure you’ll agree that he did an excellent job of reviewing That Which Does Not Exist, but let’s have a look at his review in more detail.
One thing that struck me about the review was his strict adherence to the first rule of reviewing, namely the “beginning-middle-end” law. The beginning of the review was located squarely at the start of the piece, in accordance with the guidelines set out by the International Imaginary Review Control Committee. The end of the review occurred at the end, and the middle was located between the two. PMJG decided to mix things up a little bit with regard to the middle section, however, splitting it up and adding a second beginning and a pseudo-end/middle-amalgamation (known in the trade as a ‘gutwrench’) between the fourth and fifth semicolons. This is a difficult move to pull off, but I think he succeeded.
Nothing shouts “amateur” more than an incorrectly parsed diphthong, and I believe PMJG was successful in avoiding this elementary mistake.
If I have one qualm with the vocabulary of this review, it’s that a little more time could have been spent including the words ‘parsimonious’ and ‘happenstance’. Every review should contain these words, as well as ‘qualm’, which I used in the previous sentence.
One advanced technique often seen by reviewers of things that don’t exist is the flat-back d-line cusp return, in which the proto-assessment is interrupted by a distempered quality-endowment reflection of the backhand scrutinisation manifold. This is a terrible technique and I hate it more than I hate liquorice. Thankfully PMJG avoided it like I avoid that man who lives down my street and always seems to wear the same pair of pants.
PMJG’s review was certainly bold, with subtle tannins and balsamic undertones. It had overtures of carbuncle and spatchcock, and for my money would be great when paired with a pasta dish or something containing raisins.
PMJG is available for the reviewing of Glenn Madeiros songs, TV shows broadcast between 7:00 and 8:00 (both am and pm) and films beginning with ‘Y’ or ‘W’ (but not the film ‘W’ as that’s a bit much, really).
One thing that struck me about the review was his strict adherence to the first rule of reviewing, namely the “beginning-middle-end” law. The beginning of the review was located squarely at the start of the piece, in accordance with the guidelines set out by the International Imaginary Review Control Committee. The end of the review occurred at the end, and the middle was located between the two. PMJG decided to mix things up a little bit with regard to the middle section, however, splitting it up and adding a second beginning and a pseudo-end/middle-amalgamation (known in the trade as a ‘gutwrench’) between the fourth and fifth semicolons. This is a difficult move to pull off, but I think he succeeded.
Nothing shouts “amateur” more than an incorrectly parsed diphthong, and I believe PMJG was successful in avoiding this elementary mistake.
If I have one qualm with the vocabulary of this review, it’s that a little more time could have been spent including the words ‘parsimonious’ and ‘happenstance’. Every review should contain these words, as well as ‘qualm’, which I used in the previous sentence.
One advanced technique often seen by reviewers of things that don’t exist is the flat-back d-line cusp return, in which the proto-assessment is interrupted by a distempered quality-endowment reflection of the backhand scrutinisation manifold. This is a terrible technique and I hate it more than I hate liquorice. Thankfully PMJG avoided it like I avoid that man who lives down my street and always seems to wear the same pair of pants.
PMJG’s review was certainly bold, with subtle tannins and balsamic undertones. It had overtures of carbuncle and spatchcock, and for my money would be great when paired with a pasta dish or something containing raisins.
PMJG is available for the reviewing of Glenn Madeiros songs, TV shows broadcast between 7:00 and 8:00 (both am and pm) and films beginning with ‘Y’ or ‘W’ (but not the film ‘W’ as that’s a bit much, really).
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
Imaginary Crossword Puzzle Review
As a former member of mensa and card-carrying intellectual (the card has nothing to do with being an intellectual, I just carry it around. It has a picture of a kitten on it), I love puzzles. Sudoku? Never been beaten. Samurai Sudoku? Pah! Stupidly Simple Sudoku, more like! Logic problems? I laugh at them and then steal their girlfriends. Yes, puzzles are class.
And so, I was overcome with excitement when I learned that Dagobar Willis, quite possibly the greatest crossword puzzle compiler in the history of cruciverbalism, had created a new crossword. This 106-clue grid, his first in nearly seven years, was going to be more than just a puzzle; it would be an event.
Imagine the anticipation in my trousers when I sat down to enjoy this momentous problem. It was immense. I was not let down, either, with an excellent clue at 1-across: “Bird of Prey (5)”. A true Dagobar clue, if ever there was one! Look at the succinctness, the brevity, the sheer joy in those three words! If he carried on like this, I thought, this would be one of the greatest puzzles in the history of puzzles!
But, I’m sorry to say, my breathless exhilaration had subsided by the time I came to 23-across. The clues that followed the first were all more moribund and lacklustre than the previous. And then 23-across itself – “Mental case? (5)” – was the epitome of predictability and, therefore, disappointment. Where was the love? Where was the Joie de Vivre that permeated Dagobar’s classic clues, such as his famed 46-down from the crossword in the November 17th, 1992 New York Times (“Minelli of Cabaret, (4)”)? None of it seemed to be here.
Sadness welled in my heart as I continued to complete the crossword. Had Dagobar lost his amazing ability in these years of enforced hermitage in the sewers of Paris? Was this the swansong of a tragic, once-great clue compiler? Sure, it was possible to see signs of greatness in some of his clues (like 36 down: “Baby goose (7)”), but I was moved to think of the sad demise of the Rolling Stones, whose albums since the early 80s have all been shadows of the band’s former glory. A good song here and there, maybe a great one every few years, and like Jagger et al, Willis seemed to have fallen into mediocrity.
I am sad to say that things did not improve as I came closer and closer to finishing the crossword. I hoped that with each filled-in answer I would unearth some beautiful ideal clue, hoping against hope that Willis was testing his true fans to see if they would persevere. But no, the crossword got worse and worse, and my own mood matched it, such was my disappointment at this wasted opportunity, this travesty, this former genius spitting at his own memory like a blind man spitting at his own seeing-eye dog.
It is with great guilt that I admit to giving in to my anger and deliberately filling in swear words at the final few clues instead of the intended answers. “Fruit (4)” became ‘Arse’, while one five-letter answer became a string of profanity so long that I had to write letters about a millimetre in height to fit them all in the spaces. I can no longer read them, nor remember what they said, which is probably a good thing because if I reprinted the filth here, I could be condemned by the Pope as immoral.
In summary, then, this crossword was “Something flushed down a toilet or wiped off one’s arse (4)".
Dagobar Willis’s new crossword can be found inside all good publications, and some bad ones, like the Ottawa Citizen and Now Toronto Magazine. Answers will appear in the next issue. Due to a printing error, tomorrow's New York Times crossword will be full of sand.
And so, I was overcome with excitement when I learned that Dagobar Willis, quite possibly the greatest crossword puzzle compiler in the history of cruciverbalism, had created a new crossword. This 106-clue grid, his first in nearly seven years, was going to be more than just a puzzle; it would be an event.
Imagine the anticipation in my trousers when I sat down to enjoy this momentous problem. It was immense. I was not let down, either, with an excellent clue at 1-across: “Bird of Prey (5)”. A true Dagobar clue, if ever there was one! Look at the succinctness, the brevity, the sheer joy in those three words! If he carried on like this, I thought, this would be one of the greatest puzzles in the history of puzzles!
But, I’m sorry to say, my breathless exhilaration had subsided by the time I came to 23-across. The clues that followed the first were all more moribund and lacklustre than the previous. And then 23-across itself – “Mental case? (5)” – was the epitome of predictability and, therefore, disappointment. Where was the love? Where was the Joie de Vivre that permeated Dagobar’s classic clues, such as his famed 46-down from the crossword in the November 17th, 1992 New York Times (“Minelli of Cabaret, (4)”)? None of it seemed to be here.
Sadness welled in my heart as I continued to complete the crossword. Had Dagobar lost his amazing ability in these years of enforced hermitage in the sewers of Paris? Was this the swansong of a tragic, once-great clue compiler? Sure, it was possible to see signs of greatness in some of his clues (like 36 down: “Baby goose (7)”), but I was moved to think of the sad demise of the Rolling Stones, whose albums since the early 80s have all been shadows of the band’s former glory. A good song here and there, maybe a great one every few years, and like Jagger et al, Willis seemed to have fallen into mediocrity.
I am sad to say that things did not improve as I came closer and closer to finishing the crossword. I hoped that with each filled-in answer I would unearth some beautiful ideal clue, hoping against hope that Willis was testing his true fans to see if they would persevere. But no, the crossword got worse and worse, and my own mood matched it, such was my disappointment at this wasted opportunity, this travesty, this former genius spitting at his own memory like a blind man spitting at his own seeing-eye dog.
It is with great guilt that I admit to giving in to my anger and deliberately filling in swear words at the final few clues instead of the intended answers. “Fruit (4)” became ‘Arse’, while one five-letter answer became a string of profanity so long that I had to write letters about a millimetre in height to fit them all in the spaces. I can no longer read them, nor remember what they said, which is probably a good thing because if I reprinted the filth here, I could be condemned by the Pope as immoral.
In summary, then, this crossword was “Something flushed down a toilet or wiped off one’s arse (4)".
Dagobar Willis’s new crossword can be found inside all good publications, and some bad ones, like the Ottawa Citizen and Now Toronto Magazine. Answers will appear in the next issue. Due to a printing error, tomorrow's New York Times crossword will be full of sand.
Sunday, 11 January 2009
Public Bathroom Round-up
To say I get caught short a lot is a massive understatement. My bladder is weaker than an asthmatic kitten after being chased around a marathon course by a Kenyan long-distance runner with a chainsaw. For this reason, I’ve visited more public bathrooms around the world than George Michael and Larry Craig put together. Here are my thoughts on some that I’ve experienced recently.
The gents’ toilets in Park Square, Donnington, England, show a lot of promise. They opened three years ago with a building designed by famed architect Dunlop McTwentyeight, with a dream team of rising stars making up the cleaning staff. The towel selection is second to none, and the soap pairings are unusual, yet they work. Over all, this is an excellent, four-star shitter. Reservations are needed on weekends.
New York’s Dalrymple Washroom in the car park behind the 7-11 on Gut Street is a little-known gem, untouched by tourists and loved by locals. Don’t expect any fancy, avant-garde dumps here, just quality craps enriched by locally-produced toilet paper and free-range hand dryers. Cubicles are cosy but comfortable.
Don’t be put off by the surroundings of Rome’s La Gabinetto bathroom: this is a plain loo, but nobody comes here for the décor. Instead, savour the wonderful home-made handwash that attracts visitors from all over Europe. With elements of nutmeg, saffron, Russian truffles and a mysterious secret ingredient, the soap in this public lavatory offers an experience that you will never forget.
Unlike many other theme toilets, the Poet Laureate Washrooms in Toronto’s Dypschitz Park are neither overcrowded nor tasteless. These literature-themed premises offer a quirky defecating experience, with more reading material lining the walls than one needs in a single sitting. From poetry to prose via jokes and offers of sexual liaisons (with telephone numbers attached), this is a great restroom for the unapologetic bookworm. And while it may not be the place to take a date, I am told the Poet Laureate is quite the singles bathroom; it’s a great place to meet people.
The toilets on the Via Trains First Class Carriage between Ottawa and Toronto stink of shit and vomit.
Monday, 3 November 2008
Imaginary Facial Hair Roundup
Moustaches and beards are big business these days, with the facial hair industry growing faster than the stubble on a shipwrecked sailor’s chin. The moustache wax lobby is rumoured to be one of the most powerful pomade protectorates in the US, lacing the pockets of many senators with beeswax and petroleum-earned money. And now, Beard Shows are really taking off in the fashion world, with London Beard Week, the New York Beardstravaganza and Milan’s Beards! Beards! Motherfucking Beards! Festival all pulling in crowds of men with tickly faces.
Upside-Down Goatees are giving beard-lovers hairgasms as we speak. They’re like normal goatee beards (with moustache attached), only they’re upside down. The inverted nature of this beard gives it a more playful look, and the addition of a Zappa-esque Soul Patch adds a touch of gravitas, like the facial hair equivalent of an endorsement from Ryan Phillippe. The only downside to the upside-down goatee is the possibility that unfettered growth can result in strangulation.
Ladybeards are beards for ladies. Coming in a range of colours and styles, they are affixed to the face using a combination of glue, Velcro and magic. There are some interesting looks available, with my favourite being the FemiGaribaldi, which scores highly due to its jowl coverage. Overall, though, I’m not particularly fond of the Ladybeard, as it covers the cheekbones, my favourite part of Halle Berry.
The Literal Muttonchop is the biggest sensation in the Western side of the South-East corner of the Northern bloc of the westernmost town in East Shropshire. It involves getting actual cuts of mutton and affixing them to one’s face with crocodile clips, and while it doesn’t look particularly good (on the contrary: it looks shit!), Literal Muttonchops taste fantastic. Big thumbs raised.
Artsy boho types are going ape for the Tricorne Beard, which aims to emulate the hat of the same name. Tricorne beardies use vast swathes of hair gel to create a concave, three-pronged face bowl that can be used to store corn and grapes. While I like corn and grapes, I don’t want to store them in my facial hair! Ha ha! Seriously though, this is a rubbish beard. It looks like crap. Get it away.
The best new development in facial hair is Edible Stubble. Advanced gene therapy has allowed scientists to grow stubble on subjects’ faces that is both nutritious and tastes like blueberries. Nicknamed ‘BlueberryBeards’ by unfunny morons, Edible Stubble is the perfect healthy snack for anyone with a fast-paced on the go lifestyle; just pick a few bits of stubble and chew! Plus, you get to shave with whipping cream! Genius! (Government warning: Edible Stubble is not recommended for oral consumption).
Please remember that a beard is not a toy. Care for your beard, groom it, clean it, tend to its needs, but don't mess about with it, or it may become enraged.
Friday, 24 October 2008
New Technology Review: The Gravalax 43M
CeteraPeter Industries have just released the Gravalax 43M, the long awaited update to their outstandingly successful Di-partichoke series of Deltron 5050 Waveform Collectivizers. Since the company amalgamated with Schismbot Technologies and Uncle Peter’s Brilliant Contraptions Inc., CeteraPeter’s control of the Waveform Collectivizer market has grown by a factor of at least lots and lots and lots. Indeed, if one were to ask a knowledgeable journalist for a metaphor to describe CeteraPeter’s dominance of the industry, they would probably come up with a giant undulating blob that encompasses everything on the Eastern Seaboard, with eyes as big as houses.
So, the question on everybody’s mouthpieces is: has such dominance made CeteraPeter Industries lazy? Will the Gravalax series perform as well as the Di-partichokes? Or will it be another Cropule NgwyTwentyTwenty, the ill-fated Waveform Collectivizer that was removed from shop shelves after users couldn’t find the ‘on’ switch?
Actually, those were the three questions on everybody’s mouthpieces. Many questions! And only one Imaginary Reviewer to answer them! To it I go!
On first use, the 43M has a luxuriant freebase potential with regard to the esses and exes, with particularly high cromulence in the upper echelons. I couldn’t find a way to remove the white noise around the infinity-plus-one ratio, but that’s not unusual in seaweed-powered machines like this. I hear that CeteraPeter Industries have recognised this problem and plan to release a free patch that will fix all kelp-based errors by Smarch, so this should not remain an issue for long.
Another observation about general use with the 43M: I was unable to perform a Capstan Furrow Analysis with the machine unless I removed all of my clothes. This is not necessarily a complaint.
One of the main tests of a good Waveform Collectivizer is how well it adjusts the suspended sevenths with regard to negative equity in the poop-shute. With some tweaking I managed to eke out a turnaround of point two five, but the default setting is negative goose, and nobody wants to lose a goose. This is probably the biggest weakness of the device.
Also bad: if you use the 43M for more than three hours straight, it will start to attract Dickensian urchins. I think this was also a problem with the Di-Partichoke XL5, and it seems that CeteraPeter have been unable to fix it as yet. My recommendation for dealing with this problem involves a crossbow and a shovel; you may find a better method.
All in all, the Gravalax 43M has some interesting new features that make it stand out from other Waveform Collectivizers, such as the Bifurcation Ray and the Snooze Button. It’s probably the best in its class, but doesn’t really warrant an upgrade for anyone who owns a Di-Partichoke 900 Series and above. At sixpence per metric ounce, the 43M is cheaper than a platinum hippo, but not by much. I’d wait six months, and hope for a price decrease or lottery win before purchasing.
The Gravalax 43M from CeteraPeter Industries is available from all branches of Qwertylicious, Megabyte Barn and Binary Ferret. You can get it in any colour, so long as it’s transparent. Sorry, I’ve not been well this week.
So, the question on everybody’s mouthpieces is: has such dominance made CeteraPeter Industries lazy? Will the Gravalax series perform as well as the Di-partichokes? Or will it be another Cropule NgwyTwentyTwenty, the ill-fated Waveform Collectivizer that was removed from shop shelves after users couldn’t find the ‘on’ switch?
Actually, those were the three questions on everybody’s mouthpieces. Many questions! And only one Imaginary Reviewer to answer them! To it I go!
On first use, the 43M has a luxuriant freebase potential with regard to the esses and exes, with particularly high cromulence in the upper echelons. I couldn’t find a way to remove the white noise around the infinity-plus-one ratio, but that’s not unusual in seaweed-powered machines like this. I hear that CeteraPeter Industries have recognised this problem and plan to release a free patch that will fix all kelp-based errors by Smarch, so this should not remain an issue for long.
Another observation about general use with the 43M: I was unable to perform a Capstan Furrow Analysis with the machine unless I removed all of my clothes. This is not necessarily a complaint.
One of the main tests of a good Waveform Collectivizer is how well it adjusts the suspended sevenths with regard to negative equity in the poop-shute. With some tweaking I managed to eke out a turnaround of point two five, but the default setting is negative goose, and nobody wants to lose a goose. This is probably the biggest weakness of the device.
Also bad: if you use the 43M for more than three hours straight, it will start to attract Dickensian urchins. I think this was also a problem with the Di-Partichoke XL5, and it seems that CeteraPeter have been unable to fix it as yet. My recommendation for dealing with this problem involves a crossbow and a shovel; you may find a better method.
All in all, the Gravalax 43M has some interesting new features that make it stand out from other Waveform Collectivizers, such as the Bifurcation Ray and the Snooze Button. It’s probably the best in its class, but doesn’t really warrant an upgrade for anyone who owns a Di-Partichoke 900 Series and above. At sixpence per metric ounce, the 43M is cheaper than a platinum hippo, but not by much. I’d wait six months, and hope for a price decrease or lottery win before purchasing.
The Gravalax 43M from CeteraPeter Industries is available from all branches of Qwertylicious, Megabyte Barn and Binary Ferret. You can get it in any colour, so long as it’s transparent. Sorry, I’ve not been well this week.
Thursday, 16 October 2008
The Guelph Annual Flower, Plant, Fruit, Vegetable and Other Things That Grow Show
As the old saying goes, “You can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her enjoy it”. Well, the annual horticulture event at Guelph, the Guelph Annual Flower, Plant, Fruit, Vegetable and Other Things That Grow Show is running now, and this reviewer certainly enjoyed it when he visited last weekend. I thought I’d share some of my highlights from the event, like a philanthropic bastard.
By far the most impressive thing on display in the Fruit Quarter was the Daily 5 Encouragement Fruit, designed and created by Dave and Yvonne Williams Organically Genetically Enhanced Produce, Inc. The Williamses have managed to alter the genetic makeup of several types of fruit, so that when you cut into them, the seeds inside the fruit are arranged to form that day’s Dilbert cartoon. By growing the fruit this way, Dave and Yvonne hope to encourage people to eat their recommended daily intake of five servings of fruit. They are currently in talks with various other cartoonists, and soon we may be seeing Garfield when we bite into a pear and Sherman’s Lagoon when we cut an orange in half.
The Bubble-wrap Tree was grown by a man from America after he cross pollinated a sycamore with a daschund. It should prove to be one of the most sought-after new trees in the world, as its seeds are just like plastic bubble wrap, and after around five years of growth this tree will, if tended properly, yield around a ton of the stress-relieving packing material per annum. I tested some of the bubble wrap and it was highly satisfying to pop, with a great finger sensitivity ratio but merely adequate popping volume. Overall, it’s between Grand & Toy and Staples on the quality scale.
I wasn’t a big fan of the Monsanto Corporation’s Upside-Down Corn, in the Monsanto-sponsored Innovations Zone. In order to save space they’ve managed to make corn grow underground, with the roots sticking up out of the soil. They had some of this new corn for people to taste, and to me it was a little too earthy. When I approached a Monsanto employee to discuss this with them, I was tasered repeatedly until I was a blubbering heap on the floor. Apparently this is a new PR practice, so they’re in my Big Book of Bad People Who do Bad Things to Nice Reviewers.
The Farmers’ Market at the show was a big success, and I managed to pick up two wonderful farmers, Greg and Philip, who now live in my shed. If they’re good I let them in the garden where they dance and play and sing and tell hilarious stories about wheat.
Finally, the Interactive Virtual Reality Vegetable Experience is the latest hi-tech invention from the Canadian Agricultural Association. Using up-to-the-minute technology they let you experience what it’s like to be a cucumber, asparagus or broccoli, from the moment of conception until being put into a supermarket salad. While the growing stages were a little boring, I really did feel like I got a sense of what it’s like to be a vegetable, and to be honest I was a little disoriented when it was over. I found it very hard to walk, as I thought my feet were still planted in an allotment. The Interactive Virtual Reality Vegetable Experience is not recommended for pregnant women, small children or Belgians.
The Guelph Annual Flower, Plant, Fruit, Vegetable and Other Things That Grow Show will run until a week on Tuesday, but you won’t be able to go after this weekend because of that thing you said you’d help your sister do next week. Yeah, I know it’s an inconvenience, but you said you’d do it and she’s relying on you. Well, you shouldn’t have said you’d do it, then, should you? Hey, I’m not going to tell her, you can tell her yourself. Tell her yourself. No, tell her yourself. Tell her yourself. You shouldn’t have said you’d do it, so tell her yourself.
God, you’re so selfish sometimes.
By far the most impressive thing on display in the Fruit Quarter was the Daily 5 Encouragement Fruit, designed and created by Dave and Yvonne Williams Organically Genetically Enhanced Produce, Inc. The Williamses have managed to alter the genetic makeup of several types of fruit, so that when you cut into them, the seeds inside the fruit are arranged to form that day’s Dilbert cartoon. By growing the fruit this way, Dave and Yvonne hope to encourage people to eat their recommended daily intake of five servings of fruit. They are currently in talks with various other cartoonists, and soon we may be seeing Garfield when we bite into a pear and Sherman’s Lagoon when we cut an orange in half.
The Bubble-wrap Tree was grown by a man from America after he cross pollinated a sycamore with a daschund. It should prove to be one of the most sought-after new trees in the world, as its seeds are just like plastic bubble wrap, and after around five years of growth this tree will, if tended properly, yield around a ton of the stress-relieving packing material per annum. I tested some of the bubble wrap and it was highly satisfying to pop, with a great finger sensitivity ratio but merely adequate popping volume. Overall, it’s between Grand & Toy and Staples on the quality scale.
I wasn’t a big fan of the Monsanto Corporation’s Upside-Down Corn, in the Monsanto-sponsored Innovations Zone. In order to save space they’ve managed to make corn grow underground, with the roots sticking up out of the soil. They had some of this new corn for people to taste, and to me it was a little too earthy. When I approached a Monsanto employee to discuss this with them, I was tasered repeatedly until I was a blubbering heap on the floor. Apparently this is a new PR practice, so they’re in my Big Book of Bad People Who do Bad Things to Nice Reviewers.
The Farmers’ Market at the show was a big success, and I managed to pick up two wonderful farmers, Greg and Philip, who now live in my shed. If they’re good I let them in the garden where they dance and play and sing and tell hilarious stories about wheat.
Finally, the Interactive Virtual Reality Vegetable Experience is the latest hi-tech invention from the Canadian Agricultural Association. Using up-to-the-minute technology they let you experience what it’s like to be a cucumber, asparagus or broccoli, from the moment of conception until being put into a supermarket salad. While the growing stages were a little boring, I really did feel like I got a sense of what it’s like to be a vegetable, and to be honest I was a little disoriented when it was over. I found it very hard to walk, as I thought my feet were still planted in an allotment. The Interactive Virtual Reality Vegetable Experience is not recommended for pregnant women, small children or Belgians.
The Guelph Annual Flower, Plant, Fruit, Vegetable and Other Things That Grow Show will run until a week on Tuesday, but you won’t be able to go after this weekend because of that thing you said you’d help your sister do next week. Yeah, I know it’s an inconvenience, but you said you’d do it and she’s relying on you. Well, you shouldn’t have said you’d do it, then, should you? Hey, I’m not going to tell her, you can tell her yourself. Tell her yourself. No, tell her yourself. Tell her yourself. You shouldn’t have said you’d do it, so tell her yourself.
God, you’re so selfish sometimes.
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
New Numbers Reviewed!
Scientists and boffins of all persuasions are constantly looking for new numbers out there in the vast expanse of space. One of the reasons why the CERN Large Hadron Collider got as much funding as it did was because the physicists in charge promised to find at least four new numbers between eighty and a hundred. So far they haven’t found any because a cat wandered into one of the particle accelerators and now all of the machine’s insides are covered in fur and bits of stomach.
I’ve been looking at the latest in new number findings, and I’m going to write them down like a crazy person with a quill.
Fingma is a slightly irrational number, but not too irrational. It’s about as irrational as taking two umbrellas to a PTA meeting. Fingma is divisible by twelve, but only on weekdays. On weekends it’s known as Cassandra and frequents bars of ill repute, where it cannot be divided by any number, as they’re all too scared of the doorman. This is a shoddily made number, with an unfortunate vagueness around its median, mean and mode.
Named after the genius who discovered it, Seventy Ian comes between seventy two and seventy three. It was found by bisecting a triangle number horizontally, to form a parallelogram number and a smaller triangle number. This latter number was accidentally discarded with some potato peelings and probably will never be seen again. Seventy Ian does not behave well with others, and has anger issues.
NASA has decided that the negative numbers are not being used enough, and are rebranding them in the hope of increasing their popularity. The first such rebranded number is -8, which will now be known as Negative Decadence and will be covered in diamonds. Negative Decadence will be very similar to -8, just a little bit more shiny. I can’t wait to use this negative number, and I plan very big things for it. NASA will release the second new negative number, Negative Sexy, in spring.
Some men with long white coats and bad dandruff problems took the number six thousand, translated it into Japanese with an online translator, and then translated the result back into English. The result, Happy Young \(^o^)/ Go-Chan!-Thousand, is a much better version of six thousand. It can only be multiplied by numbers after they defeat it in hand-to-hand combat and it tastes of squid. Sadly, Happy Young \(^o^)/ Go-Chan!-Thousand has the unfortunate tendency to get drunk on weeknights, and so it adds and subtracts inconsistently after 6:00pm.
Finally, Bwelve is Twelve’s evil identical twin brother who recently admitted to locking his sibling up in a shed for the last three years and assuming his identity. Mathematicians around the world began being suspicious of the number when it uncharacteristically tried to seduce Thirty-Five and was caught attempting to smother Sixty-Six. Twelve has now been returned to action, but any transaction made using the number Twelve since July 2005 will have actually used Bwelve, and must therefore be made again.
I’ve been looking at the latest in new number findings, and I’m going to write them down like a crazy person with a quill.
Fingma is a slightly irrational number, but not too irrational. It’s about as irrational as taking two umbrellas to a PTA meeting. Fingma is divisible by twelve, but only on weekdays. On weekends it’s known as Cassandra and frequents bars of ill repute, where it cannot be divided by any number, as they’re all too scared of the doorman. This is a shoddily made number, with an unfortunate vagueness around its median, mean and mode.
Named after the genius who discovered it, Seventy Ian comes between seventy two and seventy three. It was found by bisecting a triangle number horizontally, to form a parallelogram number and a smaller triangle number. This latter number was accidentally discarded with some potato peelings and probably will never be seen again. Seventy Ian does not behave well with others, and has anger issues.
NASA has decided that the negative numbers are not being used enough, and are rebranding them in the hope of increasing their popularity. The first such rebranded number is -8, which will now be known as Negative Decadence and will be covered in diamonds. Negative Decadence will be very similar to -8, just a little bit more shiny. I can’t wait to use this negative number, and I plan very big things for it. NASA will release the second new negative number, Negative Sexy, in spring.
Some men with long white coats and bad dandruff problems took the number six thousand, translated it into Japanese with an online translator, and then translated the result back into English. The result, Happy Young \(^o^)/ Go-Chan!-Thousand, is a much better version of six thousand. It can only be multiplied by numbers after they defeat it in hand-to-hand combat and it tastes of squid. Sadly, Happy Young \(^o^)/ Go-Chan!-Thousand has the unfortunate tendency to get drunk on weeknights, and so it adds and subtracts inconsistently after 6:00pm.
Finally, Bwelve is Twelve’s evil identical twin brother who recently admitted to locking his sibling up in a shed for the last three years and assuming his identity. Mathematicians around the world began being suspicious of the number when it uncharacteristically tried to seduce Thirty-Five and was caught attempting to smother Sixty-Six. Twelve has now been returned to action, but any transaction made using the number Twelve since July 2005 will have actually used Bwelve, and must therefore be made again.
Thursday, 9 October 2008
Last Night’s TV
Because of nasty incident involving a plate of knives and my groin, last night I was unable to go as planned to the Toronto Spinderella Ballroom and check out hot new band Gruntfuck Episode, so my review of their gig will have to wait until they return to the city. Instead, I was forced to sit on my arse and enjoy several hours of prime time television. Here’s my review of that, instead.
At 6:00 I watched America’s Funniest Home Videos on ABC, and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed as people fell over. They fell into pools, off tables, off tables into pools, off pool tables, off pool tables into pools and out of pools and into tables. Oh, and there was a cat that could open doors. And then the cat fell into a pool. Brilliant stuff.
7:00 saw the first episode of an excellent new show, America’s Prissiest Waiters (NBC). Security camera and home video footage captured some of the most outrageously prim and proper food servers in the US. I watched with awe as a guy with a pencil-thin moustache wearing a waistcoat told a child not to throw meatballs around an Italian restaurant. I gasped as a man with a ridiculous combover informed a couple that there were no remaining specials, and laughed as he then came back to apologise for the fact that there was, after all, a single serving of vegetable soup remaining. Hosted by Jon Favreau, this is a superb program.
America’s Youngest People (8:00, E!) was a very watchable and shocking tale of those forgotten children of the nation: children. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of these babies, some of whom were just minutes old. Indeed, these had to have been America’s Youngest People. How they sleep at night, I do not know. Lullabies, probably.
One of the best shows of the new season has to be America’s Americanest Americans (9:00, ABCBABC). Hosted by Ted Nugent, this program highlights Americans living in America who epitomise being American in the most American way. This show has more stripes and more stars than the Republican Convention, with eagles and apple pie and a CGI animation of Jesus kissing the Statue of Liberty while simultaneously shooting Arabs. Do you really need me to tell you how awesome this was?
At 10:00 I switched over to CNN, where I watched America’s Currentest Events, and then before I sank into a cold, passionless slumber I caught the first two hours of America’s Adjectiviest Nouns, a show in which the most adjectivey nouns were shown on CCTV, phone camera and home video doing those verbs that make them so adjectivey. To be honest, this was a little formulaic for my liking. I’m not sure what it was, but I felt like I’d seen this all before.
I’ll see you all next week after Thanksgiving, when hopefully the morphine will have started to work on the crippling agony that floods my very being! See you then!
At 6:00 I watched America’s Funniest Home Videos on ABC, and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed as people fell over. They fell into pools, off tables, off tables into pools, off pool tables, off pool tables into pools and out of pools and into tables. Oh, and there was a cat that could open doors. And then the cat fell into a pool. Brilliant stuff.
7:00 saw the first episode of an excellent new show, America’s Prissiest Waiters (NBC). Security camera and home video footage captured some of the most outrageously prim and proper food servers in the US. I watched with awe as a guy with a pencil-thin moustache wearing a waistcoat told a child not to throw meatballs around an Italian restaurant. I gasped as a man with a ridiculous combover informed a couple that there were no remaining specials, and laughed as he then came back to apologise for the fact that there was, after all, a single serving of vegetable soup remaining. Hosted by Jon Favreau, this is a superb program.
America’s Youngest People (8:00, E!) was a very watchable and shocking tale of those forgotten children of the nation: children. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of these babies, some of whom were just minutes old. Indeed, these had to have been America’s Youngest People. How they sleep at night, I do not know. Lullabies, probably.
One of the best shows of the new season has to be America’s Americanest Americans (9:00, ABCBABC). Hosted by Ted Nugent, this program highlights Americans living in America who epitomise being American in the most American way. This show has more stripes and more stars than the Republican Convention, with eagles and apple pie and a CGI animation of Jesus kissing the Statue of Liberty while simultaneously shooting Arabs. Do you really need me to tell you how awesome this was?
At 10:00 I switched over to CNN, where I watched America’s Currentest Events, and then before I sank into a cold, passionless slumber I caught the first two hours of America’s Adjectiviest Nouns, a show in which the most adjectivey nouns were shown on CCTV, phone camera and home video doing those verbs that make them so adjectivey. To be honest, this was a little formulaic for my liking. I’m not sure what it was, but I felt like I’d seen this all before.
I’ll see you all next week after Thanksgiving, when hopefully the morphine will have started to work on the crippling agony that floods my very being! See you then!
Friday, 16 May 2008
New Equipment Reviewed
I decided to break into an equipment show the night before it opened and ran out with as much stuff as I could fit into my wheelbarrow. Thanks to my thoughtfulness, dedication and crowbar, I have more stuff to review than the editor of Spam Lover Fortnightly.
First off, from Helix, comes the Shatterproof Girlfriend. Are you sick and tired of your girlfriend accidentally shattering while she’s cleaning windows or waving at geese? Then get a shatterproof one! I tried this girlfriend for several hours and I found it to be very resilient in normal usage. But please remember: Shatterproof is not a challenge.
The Home Photoshop Set from Adobe is a wonderful gift idea for anyone wishing to take advantage of the wonderful things that Photoshop can do, but who doesn’t have a computer. Consisting of some paper, glue and scissors, this kit will give anyone buckets of fun. I spent literally minutes cutting out a picture of Donald Trump’s head and sticking it on a picture of a man in a kilt. Saving your creations is simply a matter of putting them in a box in a cupboard.
Music-lovers will enjoy toying with the Bjork Voice Box Emulator. Speak into the special tube and press the ‘play’ button; the words you just said are repeated to you with squawks and strange gibbering noises. It also has several settings, allowing you to replicate her latter Bobby McFerrin phase, and comes with a small bag of spores. Coming soon: The Gordon Ramsey Voice Box Emulator, which adds a swear word to every other word you speak into it. Both should be highly popular come Christmas.
Apple’s latest creation is the iTree. Once you plant it in your garden it grows various different types of fruit, all of which are selectable by you. The iTree has various extras, including a vibrating hammock and a pleasing bird in its branches. There will also be a special iTree Store online in a few months, allowing iTree users to purchase items for the gadget, including new leaves, an owl and some moss. I liked my iTree, but found it to be incompatible with MS Garden, and it caused my hedge to crash.
Finally, Clatterwhack Industries have developed a Toast Clamp. This remarkable device holds a slice of toast at the sides, and allows you to rotate your breakfast bread by one hundred and eighty degrees. Why? you might ask. Well, I’ll tell you. By buttering both sides of your toast, if the slice falls off your plate towards the floor, the laws of physics that make the toast land buttered side down are thwarted. The piece of delicious crunchy satisfaction hovers an inch from the carpet, spinning around as the physics Gods try to decide which side must face down when landing. You can retrieve your breakfast at leisure and resolve to stop being so clumsy. An excellent invention.
First off, from Helix, comes the Shatterproof Girlfriend. Are you sick and tired of your girlfriend accidentally shattering while she’s cleaning windows or waving at geese? Then get a shatterproof one! I tried this girlfriend for several hours and I found it to be very resilient in normal usage. But please remember: Shatterproof is not a challenge.
The Home Photoshop Set from Adobe is a wonderful gift idea for anyone wishing to take advantage of the wonderful things that Photoshop can do, but who doesn’t have a computer. Consisting of some paper, glue and scissors, this kit will give anyone buckets of fun. I spent literally minutes cutting out a picture of Donald Trump’s head and sticking it on a picture of a man in a kilt. Saving your creations is simply a matter of putting them in a box in a cupboard.
Music-lovers will enjoy toying with the Bjork Voice Box Emulator. Speak into the special tube and press the ‘play’ button; the words you just said are repeated to you with squawks and strange gibbering noises. It also has several settings, allowing you to replicate her latter Bobby McFerrin phase, and comes with a small bag of spores. Coming soon: The Gordon Ramsey Voice Box Emulator, which adds a swear word to every other word you speak into it. Both should be highly popular come Christmas.
Apple’s latest creation is the iTree. Once you plant it in your garden it grows various different types of fruit, all of which are selectable by you. The iTree has various extras, including a vibrating hammock and a pleasing bird in its branches. There will also be a special iTree Store online in a few months, allowing iTree users to purchase items for the gadget, including new leaves, an owl and some moss. I liked my iTree, but found it to be incompatible with MS Garden, and it caused my hedge to crash.
Finally, Clatterwhack Industries have developed a Toast Clamp. This remarkable device holds a slice of toast at the sides, and allows you to rotate your breakfast bread by one hundred and eighty degrees. Why? you might ask. Well, I’ll tell you. By buttering both sides of your toast, if the slice falls off your plate towards the floor, the laws of physics that make the toast land buttered side down are thwarted. The piece of delicious crunchy satisfaction hovers an inch from the carpet, spinning around as the physics Gods try to decide which side must face down when landing. You can retrieve your breakfast at leisure and resolve to stop being so clumsy. An excellent invention.
Friday, 25 January 2008
The Imaginary Restaurant Reviewer goes to Town
In all my many years as a restaurant reviewer I’ve witnessed the birth of many new fads and fashions in the dining world. The pre-meal bar, allowing patrons to have a drink while their table is prepared, for example. Themed restaurants, like Planet Hollywood (films), Hard Rock Café (music) and Aorta (open-heart surgery). The introduction of vegetables in 1949. The list goes on.
It seems that the most pervasive new trend in the eatery world is that of the ‘fast food’ restaurant. One cannot stray from one’s home into the boondocks or the cityscapes without falling over outside a fast food restaurant and having to call one’s significant other to help one up before one is mugged by an oik. Never one to turn up my nose at a meal away from my own dining room with its ghastly paint scheme and incessant dance music coming through the walls from next door, I decided to venture to a nearby vendor of this ‘fast food’.
The establishment where I found myself certainly did itself no favours in the ‘first impressions’ department. The décor was bland to the point of invisibility and the tables and chairs looked like they had been formed out of cheap plastic that was too rickety to be used in a primary school.
The service was terrible too. I sat and waited for an hour before any member of staff attended to me, and even then it was to sweep the crumbs from under my table rather than to give me a menu. In the end I gave up and went to see the Maitre D’ to try and get a menu from them. It was here, talking to the rather young worker, that I realized that I was supposed to get up and order my meal there. Another low score, then, for service.
I ordered something called a ‘burger’, which, I was rather scornfully informed, was a sandwich containing ground beef. This was accompanied by very thin chips and a large milky drink (sadly, there was no wine menu). So, after the disappointment of the décor, atmosphere and the service, was I to be let down in the food department too?
Far from it. The meal, though inexpensive, was absolutely delicious! The meat inside the burger was superb, as if every part of the cow had been used in its production. A cacophony of different flavours rippled in my mouth, with the hearty slab of meat, the zesty tang of pickled gherkins, the crunchy onion explosion and the wondrous inclusion of a completely delicious sauce. I was so taken with this sauce that I asked one of the kitchen staff what was in it, but apparently the sauce is ‘secret’. I can only imagine what wonders go into making it!
The chips were among the best I’ve had, from Gordon Ramsay’s Food restaurant to the Oubliette in Paris. What they lacked in size they more than made up for in taste, with a cunning mixture of crispness and sogginess. I scarfed them down with gusto.
So all in all, the food more than made up for the terrible service and vomit-inducing interior design. And all for less than the lowest denomination of English banknote! A bargain!
I shall certainly be returning to this establishment, as I can’t wait to try all their different meals. In fact, I have cancelled my reservation at the Fat Duck so I can go back as soon as possible. Next on my list is the rather exotic-sounding ‘Chicken Nuggets’. I can’t wait!
It seems that the most pervasive new trend in the eatery world is that of the ‘fast food’ restaurant. One cannot stray from one’s home into the boondocks or the cityscapes without falling over outside a fast food restaurant and having to call one’s significant other to help one up before one is mugged by an oik. Never one to turn up my nose at a meal away from my own dining room with its ghastly paint scheme and incessant dance music coming through the walls from next door, I decided to venture to a nearby vendor of this ‘fast food’.
The establishment where I found myself certainly did itself no favours in the ‘first impressions’ department. The décor was bland to the point of invisibility and the tables and chairs looked like they had been formed out of cheap plastic that was too rickety to be used in a primary school.
The service was terrible too. I sat and waited for an hour before any member of staff attended to me, and even then it was to sweep the crumbs from under my table rather than to give me a menu. In the end I gave up and went to see the Maitre D’ to try and get a menu from them. It was here, talking to the rather young worker, that I realized that I was supposed to get up and order my meal there. Another low score, then, for service.
I ordered something called a ‘burger’, which, I was rather scornfully informed, was a sandwich containing ground beef. This was accompanied by very thin chips and a large milky drink (sadly, there was no wine menu). So, after the disappointment of the décor, atmosphere and the service, was I to be let down in the food department too?
Far from it. The meal, though inexpensive, was absolutely delicious! The meat inside the burger was superb, as if every part of the cow had been used in its production. A cacophony of different flavours rippled in my mouth, with the hearty slab of meat, the zesty tang of pickled gherkins, the crunchy onion explosion and the wondrous inclusion of a completely delicious sauce. I was so taken with this sauce that I asked one of the kitchen staff what was in it, but apparently the sauce is ‘secret’. I can only imagine what wonders go into making it!
The chips were among the best I’ve had, from Gordon Ramsay’s Food restaurant to the Oubliette in Paris. What they lacked in size they more than made up for in taste, with a cunning mixture of crispness and sogginess. I scarfed them down with gusto.
So all in all, the food more than made up for the terrible service and vomit-inducing interior design. And all for less than the lowest denomination of English banknote! A bargain!
I shall certainly be returning to this establishment, as I can’t wait to try all their different meals. In fact, I have cancelled my reservation at the Fat Duck so I can go back as soon as possible. Next on my list is the rather exotic-sounding ‘Chicken Nuggets’. I can’t wait!
Friday, 4 January 2008
Book Review: Gingerbread Hunter by Kathryn Wehrle
Kathryn Wehrle's first piece of non-fiction is the story of her quest to find the best-tasting gingerbread in the whole of Toronto. Along the way she finds and befriends all sorts of different people, bringing them together under the tasty brown umbrella that is a good gingerbread.
The book takes the reader through the Toronto bakery world, from the upper class croissant houses of Yonge to the seedy sesame bun shacks that form the city's notorious backstreet baking underbelly. The chapters dealing with these latter parts of the quest are terrifying, especially when the author's taste testing is interrupted by a visit from the bakery's owner, the notorious crime lord Saffron Tumerick, head of the Danish Mafia.
Other elements of the story are uplifting, such as the chapter in which Kathryn manages to save a struggling patisserie by recommending them to a hungry passer-by; the man is none other than Richard Branson, and he invests huge sums of money in the bakery, rescuing it from bankruptcy. There are also hilariously funny scenes, such as the impromptu food fight in a tea shop populated by upper-class ladies, and the scene in which Kathryn finds a woman's toe in a gingerbread man. Her search for the toe's former owner took her to three different continents and started a friendship that would eventually lead to divorce.
But rather than the people, the star of Gingerbread Hunter is the gingerbread itself. Kathryn's description of each morsel alone is worth the price of the book. From the 'delapidated creosote bungalow smell' of an out-of-date coffeeshop pastry to the 'smarmy self-confident sneer' of Guutenborg's $3,000-a-piece luxury gingerbread, Wehrle's prose makes each mouthful of biscuit real.
All in all, I would give this book five icing sugar buttons out of five.
The book takes the reader through the Toronto bakery world, from the upper class croissant houses of Yonge to the seedy sesame bun shacks that form the city's notorious backstreet baking underbelly. The chapters dealing with these latter parts of the quest are terrifying, especially when the author's taste testing is interrupted by a visit from the bakery's owner, the notorious crime lord Saffron Tumerick, head of the Danish Mafia.
Other elements of the story are uplifting, such as the chapter in which Kathryn manages to save a struggling patisserie by recommending them to a hungry passer-by; the man is none other than Richard Branson, and he invests huge sums of money in the bakery, rescuing it from bankruptcy. There are also hilariously funny scenes, such as the impromptu food fight in a tea shop populated by upper-class ladies, and the scene in which Kathryn finds a woman's toe in a gingerbread man. Her search for the toe's former owner took her to three different continents and started a friendship that would eventually lead to divorce.
But rather than the people, the star of Gingerbread Hunter is the gingerbread itself. Kathryn's description of each morsel alone is worth the price of the book. From the 'delapidated creosote bungalow smell' of an out-of-date coffeeshop pastry to the 'smarmy self-confident sneer' of Guutenborg's $3,000-a-piece luxury gingerbread, Wehrle's prose makes each mouthful of biscuit real.
All in all, I would give this book five icing sugar buttons out of five.
Thursday, 3 January 2008
The Imaginary Review's Review of the Year's Reviews
As December comes to an end, all newspapers like to look back at the previous year, taking stock of the stories, analysing the ups and downs, and taking the opportunity to reprint old articles, saving money that would have otherwise been paid to useless journalists.
The New York Times's list of the best geese of the year was a definite highlight for me. I was a bit surprised by the inclusion of Beaky in the top ten, as she strikes me as being a most disagreeable goose. But it's hard to disagree with the paper's top three, in ascending order: Muffy, Graham the Goose and Ducky Wah Wah. All three are geese who have furthered the causes of geese everywhere, and are certainly deserving of their accolades.
Less successful was the Daily Express's annual run-down of the most offensive words of the year. While the writers put forward a good argument for the inclusion of 'dipstick', I fail to see how 'Borrovan' can be considered more offensive than 'f*ck'.
Nigel Slater's list of the 2008's must-see pub signs in the Guardian pulled no punches and had several surprises. I've visited The Awful Sundae in Gosport several times and found their sign to be a great disappointment. However, the number one sign in the list, Nantwich's The Sidney Youngblood was a worthy entry.
Nothing in Slate Magazine's Top 20 politicians of the year made sense.
The Chicago Tribune had a great list of the 100 places to visit in Shugborough, Millford, before you die in 2008. The writing was excellent, however I am somewhat offended by the assumption that I will die in 2008.
Billboard Magazine's twenty best ringtones of the year held few surprises, with Rhianna's 'Look at me (I'm wearing a Skirt)' at the top spot. Other popular ringtones from 2007 included Li'l John's 'D*pst*ck B*rrovan' and Glenys Kinnock's cover of the Ramones' 'Blitzkreig Bop'.
And finally, The Imaginary Review published a review of some of the end of year reviews from 2007 which was a huge failure. For a start, the list was late, appearing long after the countdown to midnight on December 31. The reviews were poorly written, pedestrian at best, and completely unfunny. If the Imaginary Reviewer wants to increase his readership in 2008, then he really needs to pull his socks up, and soon. I would recommend some self-referencial humour, possibly with a little more modesty and self-effacement.
The New York Times's list of the best geese of the year was a definite highlight for me. I was a bit surprised by the inclusion of Beaky in the top ten, as she strikes me as being a most disagreeable goose. But it's hard to disagree with the paper's top three, in ascending order: Muffy, Graham the Goose and Ducky Wah Wah. All three are geese who have furthered the causes of geese everywhere, and are certainly deserving of their accolades.
Less successful was the Daily Express's annual run-down of the most offensive words of the year. While the writers put forward a good argument for the inclusion of 'dipstick', I fail to see how 'Borrovan' can be considered more offensive than 'f*ck'.
Nigel Slater's list of the 2008's must-see pub signs in the Guardian pulled no punches and had several surprises. I've visited The Awful Sundae in Gosport several times and found their sign to be a great disappointment. However, the number one sign in the list, Nantwich's The Sidney Youngblood was a worthy entry.
Nothing in Slate Magazine's Top 20 politicians of the year made sense.
The Chicago Tribune had a great list of the 100 places to visit in Shugborough, Millford, before you die in 2008. The writing was excellent, however I am somewhat offended by the assumption that I will die in 2008.
Billboard Magazine's twenty best ringtones of the year held few surprises, with Rhianna's 'Look at me (I'm wearing a Skirt)' at the top spot. Other popular ringtones from 2007 included Li'l John's 'D*pst*ck B*rrovan' and Glenys Kinnock's cover of the Ramones' 'Blitzkreig Bop'.
And finally, The Imaginary Review published a review of some of the end of year reviews from 2007 which was a huge failure. For a start, the list was late, appearing long after the countdown to midnight on December 31. The reviews were poorly written, pedestrian at best, and completely unfunny. If the Imaginary Reviewer wants to increase his readership in 2008, then he really needs to pull his socks up, and soon. I would recommend some self-referencial humour, possibly with a little more modesty and self-effacement.
Friday, 28 December 2007
The Imaginary Review Comics Review of the Year
2007 was probably the best year for comic books since 2005. Loads of exciting things happened, heroes came, heroes died, heroes became villains and some villains turned into dogs. The most talked-about event in the comic book world was Marvel's massive crossover, Civil Union. Readers were stunned when Captain America and Iron Man became the first super-powered same-sex marriage in comics history; all summer long the villains of the Marvel Universe tried to break up the union, including Kang the Conquerer, who ultimately died at the hands of Iron Man's mother. The X-Men got involved, baking some cakes and agreeing to help with the catering of the wedding, and Spiderman and Moon Knight provided the music. The shock of the event was when The Thing and Sleepwalker argued over who would read their speech first, and both killed each other. The comics world was shocked until it was revealed that the whole thing had been a dream all along.
DC had a pretty amazing year too. The most popular new series was Matter-Eater Lad's solo series, still going strong, despite the whole storyline being a dream. Best issue of the series had to be #4, when Matter-Eater Lad is involved in a hotdog-eating contest against that Japanese guy, with the fate of the world at stake!
The best new character in a comic book in 2007 had to be Dog Man. Dog Man is a man, with all the powers of a dog! People said Image Comics were running out of ideas, but Dog Man really does take the biscuit. The dog biscuit, that is! The best moment in Dog Man was the dream episode, in which Dog Man grows breasts (something that has now become company policy for every single new character in Image Comics).
Shock of the year was the return of Ectoboy, Clive Barker's rubbish super hero child thing. He died again after two issues, then the whole thing turned out to be a dream, and it was never spoken of again.
Worst idea for a comic book character? That has to be Window Man, who I just made up.
With more and more comic books being turned into movies - Ghost Rider, Superman Returns, The Fantastic Four, What If?: The Movie, Cry of the Ragman, Superman's Pal Jimmie Olsen Returns, Clive Barker's Hyperkind, Justice League Antarctica, Lois Lane: Superman's Girlfriend Returns and Dolphindroids: The Movie - 2007 was interesting as they were all crap, with the exception of Dolphindroids.
So, what can we look forward to in 2008? Well, Marvel have announced that all of the X-Men will die in March, with many of them returning in June (and then the whole thing being a dream). DC are expected to bring back every single one of their characters who has ever died. This may or may not be a dream (it probably will be a dream). Image are hyping up their latest hero, Boob-Woman; they're being very secretive about her appearance, however. And black and white comics will still be rubbish.
DC had a pretty amazing year too. The most popular new series was Matter-Eater Lad's solo series, still going strong, despite the whole storyline being a dream. Best issue of the series had to be #4, when Matter-Eater Lad is involved in a hotdog-eating contest against that Japanese guy, with the fate of the world at stake!
The best new character in a comic book in 2007 had to be Dog Man. Dog Man is a man, with all the powers of a dog! People said Image Comics were running out of ideas, but Dog Man really does take the biscuit. The dog biscuit, that is! The best moment in Dog Man was the dream episode, in which Dog Man grows breasts (something that has now become company policy for every single new character in Image Comics).
Shock of the year was the return of Ectoboy, Clive Barker's rubbish super hero child thing. He died again after two issues, then the whole thing turned out to be a dream, and it was never spoken of again.
Worst idea for a comic book character? That has to be Window Man, who I just made up.
With more and more comic books being turned into movies - Ghost Rider, Superman Returns, The Fantastic Four, What If?: The Movie, Cry of the Ragman, Superman's Pal Jimmie Olsen Returns, Clive Barker's Hyperkind, Justice League Antarctica, Lois Lane: Superman's Girlfriend Returns and Dolphindroids: The Movie - 2007 was interesting as they were all crap, with the exception of Dolphindroids.
So, what can we look forward to in 2008? Well, Marvel have announced that all of the X-Men will die in March, with many of them returning in June (and then the whole thing being a dream). DC are expected to bring back every single one of their characters who has ever died. This may or may not be a dream (it probably will be a dream). Image are hyping up their latest hero, Boob-Woman; they're being very secretive about her appearance, however. And black and white comics will still be rubbish.
Sunday, 2 December 2007
New Religion Round-Up
With the success of relatively recent religions like Scientology and Mormonism, quite a few other belief systems have sprung up from the metaphysical void. Who will be the new Jesus and who will go the way of Zeus? The Imaginary Review can reveal all in our fashionably fresh faith menagerie!
First off, Bastardisationism. This religion will definitely go far. Bastardisationism takes the best bits from all the popular existing religions and gets them horribly wrong. For example, Bastardisationists believe in the Holy Trinity of Father Dowling, Sonny Bono and the Friendly Ghost (Casper be his name). They believe that the world was created in seven minutes and that man was created from discarded barbecue ribs (which explains why communion usually takes the form of a cook-off). Bastardisationists are forbidden to get out of bed on Sundays and believe that all homosexuals must get married. This religion is getting more and more popular; celebrity adherents include Gwen Stefani and Vince McMahon.
Formbicism was started by a man in 1980. For many years the number of followers was eight, but then numbers grew and the religion hopes to have double figures by 2015. Proponents of Formbicism believe that early 20th Century singer/actor George Formby was God, and they sing ukulele hymns on the dunes of Formby, the town from where George got his name. Using a complex letter-substitution decoding method, Formbicists have revealed a series of hidden messages in popular George Formby songs, which they’ve compiled into the Gospels of George. According to these Gospels, the world was created on a Wednesday and eternal life may be gained by the judicious application of lip balm.
Another new religion that’s got everyone in a lather is Blendificationism. Blendificationism is based on the teachings of a goat in Hungary called Mister Giggles. Quite frankly, this religion is rubbish, as the main tenets are all based around eating inanimate objects, such as tin cans and carrier bags. Famous Blendificationists include Colin Powell and Daniel Radcliffe.
And finally, Shintoism is relaunching itself under the new name, ‘Happy Smile-ism’. While most of the central themes and teachings will remain the same, all of the rituals must be performed with an inane grin. Shinto deities will remain the Earth and all that is contained within, but now whenever considering a tree, large stone or mound of earth, these things must be mentally pictured with cute dotty-eyes.
First off, Bastardisationism. This religion will definitely go far. Bastardisationism takes the best bits from all the popular existing religions and gets them horribly wrong. For example, Bastardisationists believe in the Holy Trinity of Father Dowling, Sonny Bono and the Friendly Ghost (Casper be his name). They believe that the world was created in seven minutes and that man was created from discarded barbecue ribs (which explains why communion usually takes the form of a cook-off). Bastardisationists are forbidden to get out of bed on Sundays and believe that all homosexuals must get married. This religion is getting more and more popular; celebrity adherents include Gwen Stefani and Vince McMahon.
Formbicism was started by a man in 1980. For many years the number of followers was eight, but then numbers grew and the religion hopes to have double figures by 2015. Proponents of Formbicism believe that early 20th Century singer/actor George Formby was God, and they sing ukulele hymns on the dunes of Formby, the town from where George got his name. Using a complex letter-substitution decoding method, Formbicists have revealed a series of hidden messages in popular George Formby songs, which they’ve compiled into the Gospels of George. According to these Gospels, the world was created on a Wednesday and eternal life may be gained by the judicious application of lip balm.
Another new religion that’s got everyone in a lather is Blendificationism. Blendificationism is based on the teachings of a goat in Hungary called Mister Giggles. Quite frankly, this religion is rubbish, as the main tenets are all based around eating inanimate objects, such as tin cans and carrier bags. Famous Blendificationists include Colin Powell and Daniel Radcliffe.
And finally, Shintoism is relaunching itself under the new name, ‘Happy Smile-ism’. While most of the central themes and teachings will remain the same, all of the rituals must be performed with an inane grin. Shinto deities will remain the Earth and all that is contained within, but now whenever considering a tree, large stone or mound of earth, these things must be mentally pictured with cute dotty-eyes.
Sunday, 18 November 2007
Equipment Review: The new Tring 32X
The new Tring 32X from Garrulous Industries promises to be the most efficient gnawer of partikittens since Crepshaw manufactured the BD 303 (i) in 2003. While technology in the parallel fields of depth-panning and contrabouncing has improved remarkably in recent years, it is interesting to note that no new advances have been in partikitten-gnawing since the BD was released. Until now, that is.
The 32X improves on other hardware in this area by at least a factor of point seven. This equates in real terms to a whoft-capacity of up to a kiloboppet. You can imagine the severance that can be allotted with rail-bonds of this magnitude! Furthermore, while the 32X could certainly be more efficient in this area (lacking as it does the now-ubiquitous connective spleen that reduces Gabba wastage by up to an eighth), it does have a revolutionary tri-capstan adaptive matrix.
The addition of this T-CAM system means that all negative fallout from the disassociative membranes collects within a cognitive valve that converts them into dirigible velocipedes. These velocipedes give the 32X a top-down metalopez which works serially from the duck pins. In layman’s terms, this resolves all the ectopility compatibility problems while also allowing the 32X to emit a much greater protolaser screw. The boffins at Tring should be ecstatic!
There were some problems with the 32X, however. It has a tendency to overheat when tuned to a frequency between 8.3 and ‘G’, and without a ghetto socket there are some compatibility issues with the Robert Wagner Essiford 9. However, these problems are nothing compared to the massive improvements that this machine has over all of its competitors.
The Tring 32X costs $18,000 and comes in blue, black or yellow. The 32X Deluxe costs $1,200,000 and is invisible. All models are available from braches of DT Techniks, Alcom, Qwertylicious and Walmart.
The 32X improves on other hardware in this area by at least a factor of point seven. This equates in real terms to a whoft-capacity of up to a kiloboppet. You can imagine the severance that can be allotted with rail-bonds of this magnitude! Furthermore, while the 32X could certainly be more efficient in this area (lacking as it does the now-ubiquitous connective spleen that reduces Gabba wastage by up to an eighth), it does have a revolutionary tri-capstan adaptive matrix.
The addition of this T-CAM system means that all negative fallout from the disassociative membranes collects within a cognitive valve that converts them into dirigible velocipedes. These velocipedes give the 32X a top-down metalopez which works serially from the duck pins. In layman’s terms, this resolves all the ectopility compatibility problems while also allowing the 32X to emit a much greater protolaser screw. The boffins at Tring should be ecstatic!
There were some problems with the 32X, however. It has a tendency to overheat when tuned to a frequency between 8.3 and ‘G’, and without a ghetto socket there are some compatibility issues with the Robert Wagner Essiford 9. However, these problems are nothing compared to the massive improvements that this machine has over all of its competitors.
The Tring 32X costs $18,000 and comes in blue, black or yellow. The 32X Deluxe costs $1,200,000 and is invisible. All models are available from braches of DT Techniks, Alcom, Qwertylicious and Walmart.
Thursday, 1 November 2007
New Fragrances
With December on its way, many perfume manufacturers are hoping to cash in on the Christmas consumerism cacophony with scents aplenty. The Imaginary Review has been made party to these seasonal nose-tinglers, so come forth and bow before the altar of odour!
Calvin Klein has been blazing a trail in the underwear, perfume and perfumed underwear markets for years, and if his new fragrance is anything by which to go, next year will be as strong as ever for the mysterious man-child. CK-Off has elements of strawberries, fields and eternity, with essence of sodium in the aftertaste. This fragrance (for men or women, but not both) rekindles feelings of happiness tinged with solemn regret at a lost childhood.
The latest celebrity to invent, release and then market a fragrance is British Olympic medal-winner Fatima Whitbread, whose new product Purificationism is to perfume what Dick Cheney is to ballet dancing. In a bottle shaped like an enormous thigh, this smelly stuff evokes thoughts of athleticism, purity and arson. Apparently the scent is inspired by a bottle of talcum powder that Fatima’s mother gave to her as a child and which contained magical properties.
The new kid on the Perfume block is the Italian fragrance collective, Youknow. Based in Pamplona, the collective (whose slogan is ‘Youknow: It Makes Scents’) consists of sixteen former art students who also have a sideline business in black-market passports. The Youknow range is more expensive - and therefore better - than most of its competitors, and each fragrance is based around a different bodily fluid. My favourite is the one made of tears.
Finally, Chanel’s new fragrance, Circumspect, harks back to a golden age of perfume when Audrey Hepburn was alive and Tommy Hilfigger was just a twinkle in an elder Hilfigger’s eye. Circumspect is a wonderful fragrance with elements of saffron, cocktail olives and tooth decay. It is a smell that brings forth emotions associated with small financial windfalls and being surprised by someone’s trustworthiness.
So there you have it. All the presents you could possibly need for that special person in your life who has an unfortunate stench.
Calvin Klein has been blazing a trail in the underwear, perfume and perfumed underwear markets for years, and if his new fragrance is anything by which to go, next year will be as strong as ever for the mysterious man-child. CK-Off has elements of strawberries, fields and eternity, with essence of sodium in the aftertaste. This fragrance (for men or women, but not both) rekindles feelings of happiness tinged with solemn regret at a lost childhood.
The latest celebrity to invent, release and then market a fragrance is British Olympic medal-winner Fatima Whitbread, whose new product Purificationism is to perfume what Dick Cheney is to ballet dancing. In a bottle shaped like an enormous thigh, this smelly stuff evokes thoughts of athleticism, purity and arson. Apparently the scent is inspired by a bottle of talcum powder that Fatima’s mother gave to her as a child and which contained magical properties.
The new kid on the Perfume block is the Italian fragrance collective, Youknow. Based in Pamplona, the collective (whose slogan is ‘Youknow: It Makes Scents’) consists of sixteen former art students who also have a sideline business in black-market passports. The Youknow range is more expensive - and therefore better - than most of its competitors, and each fragrance is based around a different bodily fluid. My favourite is the one made of tears.
Finally, Chanel’s new fragrance, Circumspect, harks back to a golden age of perfume when Audrey Hepburn was alive and Tommy Hilfigger was just a twinkle in an elder Hilfigger’s eye. Circumspect is a wonderful fragrance with elements of saffron, cocktail olives and tooth decay. It is a smell that brings forth emotions associated with small financial windfalls and being surprised by someone’s trustworthiness.
So there you have it. All the presents you could possibly need for that special person in your life who has an unfortunate stench.
Monday, 29 October 2007
Book Review: Great Lists I Have Written by Seldom Hatchery
Great Lists I Have Written by Seldom Hatchery is one man’s love letter to lists, and the writing thereof. In this remarkable memoir, Hatchery, a professor of ergonomics and aesthetics at Coventry University, looks back over more than sixty years of lists that he has written.
The first thing that grabs one while reading this book is that in Prof. Hatchery’s hands, the lists have the ability to move us in many ways. They amuse, sadden, anger and warn us, all at the same time. Take one of Seldom’s earliest lists, written in 1951, entitled ‘Things I will do before I’m forty’:
1 Grow a beard
2 Write a book about ghosts
3 Buy a really nice desk
4 Shoot Mrs. Kilkenny
5 Read War & Peace
We are not informed as to whether Prof. Hatchery carried out the items on this list. However, we are given some poignant insight into the state of mind of a young man full of ambition, full of hope, and possibly full of anger towards a mysterious married woman.
While many of the lists are enjoyable reading in their own right, all are brought to life and given wings by Hatchery’s wonderful prose accompanying them. We learn the context of the lists; we learn of their place in time, we learn of their relevance to their own era.
This contextualisation of the lists is displayed incredibly well in the case of some of Hatchery’s most mundane minutiae. For instance, compare these two shopping lists, the first from 1965 and the second from 1997:
Lard
Dripping
An egg
Corn Flakes
Bin bags
Bread
Oysters
Two large rump steaks
Eggs
Harvey’s Bristol Cream
Tabasco sauce
Corn
Stuff Magazine
Professor Hatchery deconstructs these two lists and uses them as a metaphor for his own life at the time. While once he was a man who purchased lard and dripping, now he was a man with a research grant who could afford corn, oysters and extravagant sauces. But yet throughout, at the middle of each list, persevering through time and holding up the lists like a spine or column are the eggs. The change from one egg to ‘some’ eggs (plural) shows, for Hatchery, a display of growth, of aging. In many ways he is the same, but at the same time, he is ‘more’.
Every list that Professor Hatchery has ever written is here, from the interesting (‘Venice Itinerary, 1972’) to the dull (‘Things I need to do this week, February 10 1980’) and from the exhilarating (‘My favourite break-up records, 1965’) to the embarrassing (‘A list of all my colleagues with attractiveness ratings, 1992’). They constitute a good read on their own, but with the author’s commentary to go with them, this book is an essential read.
‘Great Lists I have Written’ by Seldom Hatchery (pp 930) is published by Elemental Quaker Books and is priced £34.99.
The first thing that grabs one while reading this book is that in Prof. Hatchery’s hands, the lists have the ability to move us in many ways. They amuse, sadden, anger and warn us, all at the same time. Take one of Seldom’s earliest lists, written in 1951, entitled ‘Things I will do before I’m forty’:
1 Grow a beard
2 Write a book about ghosts
3 Buy a really nice desk
4 Shoot Mrs. Kilkenny
5 Read War & Peace
We are not informed as to whether Prof. Hatchery carried out the items on this list. However, we are given some poignant insight into the state of mind of a young man full of ambition, full of hope, and possibly full of anger towards a mysterious married woman.
While many of the lists are enjoyable reading in their own right, all are brought to life and given wings by Hatchery’s wonderful prose accompanying them. We learn the context of the lists; we learn of their place in time, we learn of their relevance to their own era.
This contextualisation of the lists is displayed incredibly well in the case of some of Hatchery’s most mundane minutiae. For instance, compare these two shopping lists, the first from 1965 and the second from 1997:
Lard
Dripping
An egg
Corn Flakes
Bin bags
Bread
Oysters
Two large rump steaks
Eggs
Harvey’s Bristol Cream
Tabasco sauce
Corn
Stuff Magazine
Professor Hatchery deconstructs these two lists and uses them as a metaphor for his own life at the time. While once he was a man who purchased lard and dripping, now he was a man with a research grant who could afford corn, oysters and extravagant sauces. But yet throughout, at the middle of each list, persevering through time and holding up the lists like a spine or column are the eggs. The change from one egg to ‘some’ eggs (plural) shows, for Hatchery, a display of growth, of aging. In many ways he is the same, but at the same time, he is ‘more’.
Every list that Professor Hatchery has ever written is here, from the interesting (‘Venice Itinerary, 1972’) to the dull (‘Things I need to do this week, February 10 1980’) and from the exhilarating (‘My favourite break-up records, 1965’) to the embarrassing (‘A list of all my colleagues with attractiveness ratings, 1992’). They constitute a good read on their own, but with the author’s commentary to go with them, this book is an essential read.
‘Great Lists I have Written’ by Seldom Hatchery (pp 930) is published by Elemental Quaker Books and is priced £34.99.
Sunday, 21 October 2007
I Review a Review of the Review of a Review I Wrote last month
Terence Spack, in the new magazine The American Review of Imaginary Things, has published a review of the review I wrote in September, in which I called David Trebuchet's review of Dippy Twilight's album Loving to Love the Love "another wonderful addition to Trebuchet's ouvre".
Spack's pedestrian meanderings into the world of reviewing have always been somewhat painful to read, even when one is not mentioned by name in them. For example, Spack's review from last year in which he referred to Anthony Betterbuy-Glottalstop's book 'Gender Divisions: Why Men Like Lists and Women Like Flower-Arranging and Kittens' was a terrible mish-mash of overlong sentences, wrought paragraphs and mixed metaphors. It is no surprise, therefore, that his comments about my own review are both wrong, badly-written and, I'm sad to say, a bit stinky. Like a pooey bottom. Like Spack's pooey bottom, which, I'm told, is full of poo.
Take this example: "[The Imaginary Reviewer] writes like someone who has never used a thesaurus; his prose is staid and his analogies are less apt than a grenade in a orphanage." What rubbish! My prose is fine, thank you! And a grenade could be apt in an ophanage. Did Spack ever stop and think whether the orphanage could be full of terrorists? Orphans can be terrorists too! And as for using a thesaurus, why on Earth would I need a dinosaur? Spack is obviously trying to be funny, and it isn't working.
That's not to say that Spack's review of my review of Trebuchet's review doesn't have its merits. He does mention that I have a 'nice way of using parentheses' and, in what has become his trademark, Spack has written his review in the form of an acrostic in which the first letters of all the words spell out a recipe for fried rice.
I can't recommend this review enough. Not for reading, though, but for burning! It's rubbish! Don't read it, and certainly don't read the magazine, either. Mine is much better.
The Imaginary Review apologises. He was drunk.
Spack's pedestrian meanderings into the world of reviewing have always been somewhat painful to read, even when one is not mentioned by name in them. For example, Spack's review from last year in which he referred to Anthony Betterbuy-Glottalstop's book 'Gender Divisions: Why Men Like Lists and Women Like Flower-Arranging and Kittens' was a terrible mish-mash of overlong sentences, wrought paragraphs and mixed metaphors. It is no surprise, therefore, that his comments about my own review are both wrong, badly-written and, I'm sad to say, a bit stinky. Like a pooey bottom. Like Spack's pooey bottom, which, I'm told, is full of poo.
Take this example: "[The Imaginary Reviewer] writes like someone who has never used a thesaurus; his prose is staid and his analogies are less apt than a grenade in a orphanage." What rubbish! My prose is fine, thank you! And a grenade could be apt in an ophanage. Did Spack ever stop and think whether the orphanage could be full of terrorists? Orphans can be terrorists too! And as for using a thesaurus, why on Earth would I need a dinosaur? Spack is obviously trying to be funny, and it isn't working.
That's not to say that Spack's review of my review of Trebuchet's review doesn't have its merits. He does mention that I have a 'nice way of using parentheses' and, in what has become his trademark, Spack has written his review in the form of an acrostic in which the first letters of all the words spell out a recipe for fried rice.
I can't recommend this review enough. Not for reading, though, but for burning! It's rubbish! Don't read it, and certainly don't read the magazine, either. Mine is much better.
The Imaginary Review apologises. He was drunk.
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