blog No.1 magazine is Scotland’s conflation of Hello and Heat magazine. It combines vile celebrity tittle-tattle with pseudopsychological articles on mental illness. Here is their latest cover:
Look at it. It doesn’t say “Bipolar The new celebrity disorder”. It says “Bipolar The new celebrity disorder!” That exclamation mark makes all the difference. The exclamation mark implies that manic depression is a good thing to have, like it’s a holiday destination or a new type of washing powder.
It is easy to fall into the trap of paying attention only to the ways in which society is in decline. You end up reading the Daily Mail and being too afraid to walk the streets. Strangely, despite recently consuming the classic post-civilziation works Survivors and Earth Abides, I remain placid and optimistic.
One thing I always noticed when working in Gorbals Library was that the people who tended to read true life murder books tended to be the ones who reeked of port. It was as though they drank because their vision of the world was cut-throat. It does make me cautious about what books I pick up.
02 Jun 2008
blog I am becoming slightly obsessed with the end of the world. It’s not surprising really, given all the recent portents. Even if the cyclones and earthquakes are just chance occurrences, there are more enough manmade threats to contemplate, what with terrorism and the ever-present possibility of nuclear annihilation.
My obsession has reached such a pitch that I decided to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull solely for the opportunity to see him survive a nuclear bomb. Was it worth it? Almost.
Indiana Jones finds himself in Area 51 and thinks he has found civilization. What he actually finds is a Baudrillardian concept town displaying all kinds of Americana enacted by mannequins. There’s a postboy throwing a newspaper and a family sitting around a table, all of them placidly awaiting the devastation of the H-bomb. It is fascinating and satisfying to see him somehow survive by hiding in a lead lined fridge being blown hundreds of yards across the desert.
The rest of the film is leaden and formulaic; and the cast and script are creaky (Shia Lebouef is perhaps the most wooden). Spielberg’s films now remind one of Woody Allen – it looks like the real thing, but the soul (and originality) are completely gone.
01 Jun 2008