• For the cynic: A Decade So Bad, It Didn’t Have a Name and No One Even Knows It’s Ending
• The 2000s: The decade in pop culture
• 5 Life Lessons Learned From The Ladies of 00s Teen Films
• The Evolution of the Hipster 2000-2009
• The 10 Worst Superhero Movies of the Decade
• Wikipedia: 200s in music
• The Top 20 Internet Lists of 2009 sadly, Top Ten Pop Culture Goliaths of the Naughties didn’t make it, but 5 cats that look like Wilford Brimley did.
• INTERNET VICES tumblr is my drug of choice. What’s yours?
• Hipster Runoff: The Most Authentic/Relevant/Successful Artists of the Decade (The Best Albums/MP3s/Songs/Artists/Bands/Humans of the Decade) Warning: this link may SLOW your computer if you’re living in the slow-internet antipodeans, but it’s worth it.

Have you got any more? I’ll add them to the list!

4.) The Diva Trainwreck. Britney Spears.

I was going to talk about the pretenders. Amy Winehouse put up with a good fight, and Lindsay Lohan is getting there. But for sheer epic thrills, there can only be one Great Diva Trainwreck of the Naughties. She’s come all good now, or something, but man, the journey has been a rollercoaster. My favourite Britmoment: the umbrella to the car incident.  Britney IS America. And I love you, America.

3.) The Pop Supernovel.

You know, the books that go viral, and they make not-as good movies out of them. Even the dumbest people you know, that don’t even read, will be caught with one or two of these on their shelves. They’re pure mediocre pop pulp and we lapped it up in the Naughties in a strange, desperate way. The Da Vinci Code: the movie really brought the lols. Seriously, that scene at the end, when Ian McKellen is driving away and he’s yelling as the window goes up? Priceless! Harry Potter: I didn’t get it for ages. Didn’t see the movies, hadn’t read the books, then I caught up, and yeah, they were pretty wizard! Get it?? WIZARD? But seriously I did catch Potter Fever towards the end, and nearly thought about knitting myself a Ravenclaw scarf (but I didn’t.) Oh man this list fatigue is getting me. Have you seen, or read, The Secret? Not a novel per se, but the marketing-savvy lovechild of the Nineties self help books.

Oh, and you know those books that I’ve already wasted a post on, and I’ve only got pics for that one, back when I was still milking it for lols. The only macros that make me laugh anymore from The Twilight Saga are the Mean Girls reference ones, but I don’t have any of those saved and I don’t want to break my rules. Here, have this one again. It just makes me laugh to see Bella ride Thom Yorke. Have you seen New Moon yet? I haven’t! But I am definitely Team Asian Dude. Is he in the second movie? “La Push, Baby, La Push!” Haha.

2.) The Epic Trilogy

You know what this post needs? Some Orly action. Some double Orly action. Disclaimer: these images are for a lesson I was teaching about differing portrayals of masculinity, I swear. I really am more of a Team Sparrow/ Team Aragorn kinda gal, I assure you.

In the Naughties, one movie just will not do, or even a sequel. You really need to up the ante: a trilogy is the bare minimum requirement for any kind of epic film franchise, and sometimes, a quadrilogy or an octology… just milk the damn thing dry, ok? Audiences need an immersive experience, and they really need to feel like the 30 bucks they spent on the ticket, popcorn and sugary postmix that somehow passes for soft drink was well worth it. Sure, this wasn’t something that was exclusive to the Naughties- but it was really taken to the next level during this decade.

1.) Web 2.0

What was this stupid decade all about? I have no idea why people are having such a hard time defining it. It’s easy! What does it all boil down to? THE INTERNET. More specifically, THE INTERNET that we get to make. We are the YouTube generation, we are the Google generation (and maybe next decade, we’ll figure out what the hell Google Wave actually is). Facebook and Myspace has totally changed the face of the way we interact with our peers, our clients, and our families. Web 2.0 IS Pop Culture in the Naughties.

Our gaming consoles, our phones, everything is interacting, uploading, peer to peer sharing, bluetoothing. Culture expanded and then vomited and then ate it’s own vomit, over and over again. We are now stuck in a cycle where everything is chewed up, spat out, and regurgitated in the worst kind of way- this very post series epitomizes it.I’m sorry, Internet- next year I promise to be more poignant & original & relevant & stuff.

1,2,1,2,3,4
We accept her, one of us, we accept her, one of us!
Gooble gobble gooble gobble!
We accept her, we accept her!
We accept her, one of us, we accept her, one of us!
Gooble gobble gooble gobble!
We accept her, we accept her!

We came, we saw, we kicked it’s ass,
Give me my 20,000 in cash,
We came, we saw, we kicked it’s ass,
I think you woke up the dead with that blast
We came, we saw, we kicked it’s ass,
I think fast, I talk fast,
We came, we saw, we kicked it’s ass,
Lois, this is not my Batman glass

It’s the hump numbers, 6 & 5! Who will it be? I can tell you, it’s going to be CONTROVERSIAL.

6.) Pop Politics

There’s an elephant in the expansive, playboy bunny manse that is Pop Culture, and that is The Government.  I’ve mentioned 9/11 already and how it has shaped this decade, but we kinda had some world leaders who made this decade interesting during the fallout.

Oh, cripes- it’s the most politically incorrect image yet! But it highlights what some sought out to do in the Naughties- use ridiculous allegories to point out the obvious to the politically illiterate. We’re looking at you, Michael Moore! The Naughties saw the birth and flourish of the social/political pop documentary. Michael Moore led the charge with Bowling for Columbine, Fahrenheit 911, and Sicko, pointing out the inadequacies of the Bush regime. He made pointing fun at the government  more lulzy. We also had Morgan Sprulock’s Supersize Me and Joaquin Phoenix and Moby lending their vocal and musical talents to Earthlings- exposing to some of us the ethical dilemmas inherent in your local friendly Big Mac.

The cleverest voices came from comedic talent- Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert of The Daily Show, and Australia was blessed with the antics of the Chaser- first there was CNNNN, and then there was Chaser’s War on Everything. The best news and a current affair programs were shows that were satirizing news and current affair programs.

5.) Anime

Sailor Llama

The anime craze hit the ground running with the knock on effect of it’s popularity in the West in the late Nineties. Thanks to the internet, it spread far beyond the domain of kids morning cartoons where Pokemon, Sailor Moon, and Dragonball Z dominated in the decade previous. With file sharing and fan subbing, the whole realm of anime- for both kids and adults- was spread far and wide. Japanese culture was definitely in favour with Nerdom in the West, as the Star Trek  and comic convention- long the territory of the Great White Geek- morphed into the Pop Culture Convention, where anime and manga became a fixture (if not a feature) and it’s terrifying vital component- Cosplay.

Katy Perry is a cosplayer. Fun fact: she has a cat called Kitty Purry. I think that’s endearing.

Once a quirk of Japanese culture, now it’s Very Serious Business in the West. And if the proliferation of the Neon Spiky Wig Cult doesn’t convince you of Anime’s popularity, then maybe DeviantArt, and all the badly drawn tentacle hentai and chibi lolitas contained within, WILL.

It was not all dire, however. Miyazaki’s animated masterpieces gave Disney a run for it’s money, as feature films such as Spirited Away and Howl’s Moving Castle were nominated for, and won, Oscar awards. Films such as The Matrix took direct inspiration from the anime Ghost in the Shell. American cartoon animators now look to the East, as the slick, colourful and bold style is well and truly in vogue and here to stay. Let’s just hope J-Pop and K-Pop music don’t follow suit and stay the hell where they are.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this installment! It’s all downhill from here…

You may also be interested in:

The Top Ten Pop Culture Goliaths of the Naughties: Part One
The Top Ten Pop Culture Goliaths of the Naughties: Part Two

Cynicism is in the air, folks. Joy too, of course. Joy and joy and hope and peace and love and joy, and wonderful wonderful bah humbugs. All in the name of celebrating the birth of a savior, or family and friends (a Thanksgiving 2.0, if you please, or Thanksgiving for non-US nations), or just pure capitalism. It’s unavoidable, so you might as well embrace it– But hey, who says you have to do it the traditional way? I’ve read an interview somewhere that the late Dimebag Darrell threw the most epic Christmas party one year, where the room was a rioting mess and there was a tree stuck upside-down on the ceiling or something. Lord knows how one manages that (think about all the spilling decorative bits… I quite like my cocktails clean), but the point is this: Make this Christmas a bearable for yourself. Sure, it’s selfish, but society needs the sanity.

Of course, everybody has their ways of coping, which is why I’m not here to hand you a 10-step guide to surviving Christmas (isn’t that a movie, by the way?). I’m perfectly happy being second (or third) best, because that’s my job around these parts– to provide you with a range of either physical or virtual material goods in the world of pop that will blow your Christmassy mind, be it cynical or rather joyful; good, bad or ugly. There’s something for (almost) everyone. So here it is, your 12 Days of Christmas: Pop-culture style.

On the first day of Christmas my tired-of-Facebook-wishing ass would love you to mail some sentiments of…

‘MERRY CHRISTMAS, I AM SO WITTY’.

‘Funny’ Christmas cards. Yeah, they’re equally as lame than any thoughtful, sentimental greeting, but when you’re generally a thoughtless person, there’s nothing like a mass-manufactured physical card to say ‘hey, Merry Christmas, and hey, I thought about sending you a card!’ Ridiculous as they may be, they still trump those electronic greetings from BlueMountain any other day.

Actual cards on the other hand, mean that one wouldn’t be receiving the same electronic message from six other people. And also, you can fill the insides with illegible handwriting just so you can show how much you care. Awww. Also, the new, overdone mass media age brings us choices. The choice to pick a greeting card that reflects your outer personality. For example:

‘Look, I’m so conscious that American Idol/X-Factor exists and it’s the #1 show on television, and Simon is totally the asshole! How current is this card. I am totally the cool aunt/uncle/cousin in this family!”

This one is a personal favourite. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but to me it says “yum, I like food.” Also, “sometimes I am quite disgusting, but aren’t I smart for picking out a clever card?”

______________________________________________________

On the second day of Christmas teh most illiterate generashun ovf all prezints:

IT’S A LOLZY LOLZY CHRISTMAS

Yeah, amberfishy noted in that previous post that macros are going downhill, but lord knows they ain’t going away. Also, how will you ever satisfy your 22 (yes..)- year old nephew/neice with a generic card with properly-written words? They are a generation of net natives; media-savvy youngins who just don’t appreciate (or understand) the beauty of spelling correctly, so let’s just be cool and mail them cards or jpegs attached to emails of things they know and can relate to (Note: Emails with jpegs are nowhere as bad as e-greeting cards).

If you think lolcats are going downhill, don’t even try looking for decent Christmas lolcats. Pain in the ass, but here are some okay ones, usually because the image of the poor felines are enough to put you off being associated with cat owners forever:

So bad, it’s almost good.

Okay, maybe not. I say this is the point where you have some of Aunt Patsy’s alcoholic eggnog so you can forget that this was even on the list.

______________________________________________________

On the third day of Christmas Marjorie Dawes and her team of closeted calorie lovers reveal…

THINGS THAT ARE PROBABLY RATHER DELICIOUS

I love cake. And I also love laughing at people who do stupid things. If you’re about the same and haven’t already discovered the Internet sensation that is Cake Wrecks, you’re missing out. Basically the blog contains bakers (usually professionals if I’m not wrong) who bake fail cakes. Easy as that. Sometimes the goods look as ugly as the stuff that come out of the asses of newborn babies, sometimes it’s just funny bad writing. To give you guys a taste of what that site has to offer, here’s a pick of the Christmas wrecks:

WTFBBQLOL

This one is captioned “He’s made of sugar and spice and will mess your a$$ UP, beeyotches.”

I love how this properly expresses the frustration of running out of cake space to write things.

I know, aren’t we all hungry? Now go fetch yourself a sandwich or something, and come back because the list does get better (I hope)!

______________________________________________________

On the fourth day of Christmas the intergalactic wookies of shame would like to push Charlie Brown aside and introduce you to…

STAR WARS, WITH FEELING

I don’t know how many of you out there managed to catch The Star Wars Holiday Special in 1978 when it was broadcasted, but I’m pretty bummed that they have never played it on TV since then. But I suppose they had pretty good reasons, because well, judge for yourself. George Lucas himself apparently regretted it (according to that episode of Robot Chicken and Wikipedia), and would rather not acknowledge its existence (ouch). But here’s why you should watch it:

1. Because like all cult classics, it’s a cult classic.
2. The original actors are all there. Be supportive this Christmas.
3. It’s HILARIOUS. In that ‘so bad it’s almost good’ kindof way (or like the lolcats, not really).

______________________________________________________

On the fifth day of Christmas the less untainted of the undead species would like to shower you with their greatest hits album, better known as…

NEVER MIND THE SEXY VAMPIRES

Okay, I’m all about zombies this year (although I’m all about them most years, but just more than usual this time). Let’s face it guys, with the recent outbreak of sexy vampires recently, zombies have been shoved to the background. It’s like nobody cares anymore. I have personally expressed my irrational anger on various social networking platforms when I discovered that they’re playing New Moon on every hour during the first couple of days (maybe week, even) of its release, but consistently bumped Zombieland‘s release date further and further away (it was supposed to be a pre-Halloween movie! We finally got it in theaters December 3rd. At that point, I have given up, mentally gave movie theaters the bird, and downloaded it. Hell yeah, Internet!

Anyway, you didn’t really need to know that (and it’s probably just a case of New Zealanders being stupid). Celebratory times call for kickassery. So why not give the gift of the zombie this Christmas to counter all that disgusting glitter that all your emo friends would be wearing to your parties? Thanks to the powers of Google, I’ve picked out a few goodies to assist you in this great mission:

Christmas albums generally annoy me (see: Day #8), but hey, whatever sets the mood, sets the mood, right?

For more goodies, Google it for yourself. Be cool: give zombies! Give your vampire-lovin’ palls the gift of the cooler undead! If all else fails just do something piss easy, like replace your advent calendar candy with different body parts for a Mr Potato Head, or use your toys to create a nativity scene or something. Adorable.

______________________________________________________

On the sixth day of Christmas the reindeers of generalization decided on…

YOUR GENERIC TV CHRISTMAS EPISODE

Let’s be honest here. Christmas specials do usually suck. But hey, it’s… well, festive. Crazy plot movers always seem to want to happen during these episodes. They also allow characters to somehow act outside their general characters by having epic realizations (see: the Extras finale), or become heightened versions of themselves. The Office is generally a great example of this, I reckon. Remember that painful Yankee Swap scene? Good lord.

But hey, that’s the beauty of the Christmas special. It’s that love-hate relationship (and even the good ones can be pretty cringeworthy, no? I bet George Lucas would say yes!), and if you’re a fan of a single show, there’s no way you would miss it because well, it’s the damn Christmas episode! Think about how crazy Doctor Who nerds (and quite possibly the rest of Britain) get ridiculously amped over those Christmas specials! Anything can happen! Somebody could die! Somebody could eat too much Christmas cake and gain 200 pounds (still waiting for this)! It could be a musical (see: Day #9)!

And of course, classic characters sometimes get introduced. Among the best of them include Mr Hankey, the Christmas poo. Trust South Park to have us all enlightened by a talking piece of crap that attempts to be a voice of reason.

Oh my gosh. Mr Hankey has a Christmas album. How much more crazy awesome can this wee thing be? Read on!

______________________________________________________

On the seventh day of Christmas the ingeniuous basterds suggest…

MOVIES THAT WILL MAKE YOU APPEAR TO BE GIVING A DAMN EVEN WHEN YOU’RE NOT REALLY DOING SO

Christmas movies are probably one of the worst genres ever, but if you want to look like you’re not a grouchy douchebag emo child, movies are a pretty easy way to dodge the bah humbug stereotype, I think.

Here’s the thing. I used to love The Nightmare Before Christmas, then as I got older I noticed that it kinda got sold out and now all the emos love it, so it’s a little cringeworthy now to watch it again, especially at this time of the year. Do I still love it though? Do I still wear my Jack Skellington T-shirt from time to time? You bet your ass I do (just not around Christmastime). For my next couple Christmasses however, I think I’ll settle with Elf (unless I can locate my TNBC dvd.. or they play it on TV yet again). It’s funny, it’s ‘awww’-worthy, and it unfortunately has Zooey Deschanel so I can also fulfill my anger quota by screaming unaudibly at the TV as I wonder why she still has a career. Anyway, here’s a rough guide to other well-known Christmas movies.

1. Jingle all the Way (1996. Arnold, Sinbad): I liked this a lot when I was nine, but thankfully I grew to realize that the Terminator and Turbo Man are essentially the same person in every way or something. Watch it with your 3 year old nephews and neices. It’s slightly better than…
2. Home Alone (1990. With various sequels. That Culkin kid): Seriously, don’t give those eight year olds any hope. They are devious. Also, painful to watch because it’s stereotyping burgulars as stupid and unable to outsmart little blonde-haired toothless kids.
3. Eight Crazy Nights (2002. Cartoon Adam Sandler): So bad, it’s rather good. In that disturbing, Adam ‘look, a woman has three nipples!’ Sandler kindof way.
4. Bad Santa (2003. Billy Bob Thornton): Much like every other Billy Bob Thornton movie there is where he plays Billy Bob Thornton. NEXT.
5. Love Actually (2003. Every Brit actor you know): Not far from being the Bridget Jones’ Diary of Christmas flicks (British. Predictable. Chick-flickky. Hugh Grant being the same bore of a twat he plays in every movie.) but casting Tim Canterbury as a porn star is a slight redeeming feature.
6. The Santa Clause (1994. Tim Allen): Officially the most overrated Christmas movie of all time, with much UNneeded sequels. Boo.
7. Unaccompanied Minors (2006. Lewis Black, Rob Corddry, Rob Riggle… and nobody else matters): Only watched it because of my stupid Daily Show fangirlism. Nothing special, really.  Nice touch injecting stereoypes into what, ten year olds? (the sad cherubic kid with an Aquaman obsession, the screaming sassy black kid, the average Joe who is a nice guy who loves his sister who falls in love with a girl out of his league..). The first thing that came to mind was ‘immature’, but hell, it’s for kids. Still, pretty lame.
8. The Ref (1994. Denis Leary, Kevin Spacey): HILARIOUS. I cannot stress this enough.

______________________________________________________

On the eighth day of Christmas the wandering ears of Christmas past shall blare you some…

FEEL-GOOD HITS OF THE SEASON

And I don’t mean Christmas carols, so don’t you worry about that. And I also don’t mean ‘Christmas albums’ by the likes of Mariah Carey or Weezer or even Tori Amos (aka ‘those who you will probably lose respect for because they recorded Christmas albums’). I’m going uberpop here, so pop it shall be. I’ll be honest here, I’m a sucker for a good non-Traditional Christmas tune. The Darkness has managed a semi-decent one, and The Kinks wrote a classic (note the title of this post). Most would already be familiar with that John Lennon one, and for something traditional with a modern twist, there is always the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. 90s kids would cringe or smile at Blink 182′s attempt. Marty Casey and the Lovehammers (of Rockstar INXS fame. Whoa, remember that?!) stuck to pretty familiar catchy pop-rock, Queen wrote one that’s beautiful if not a little melancholic, and of course, there’s good ol’ Band Aid single, the slightly more disastrous Band Aid 20, and 2009  saw the release of a comedy version.

My all-time favourite Christmas hit however, goes to The Pogues and Kirsty McColl’s ‘Fairytale of New York’, because there is nothing like a rather negative, ‘life blows’ kindof song but with a pretty tune and loving profanities that builds up to be rather uplifting.

______________________________________________________

On the ninth day of Christmas the world of political satire presents:

AMERICA’S GREATEST FUNDIT SHOWCASING THE HUGH JACKMAN IN HIM

Unless Colbert comes up with yet another Christmas special to rival this one from last year, I’m not sure you can look beyond it. This is generally the season where our favourite newsmen are on break, so some of us may need our fix. The others can just enjoy a fun-filled episode of musical excess (and it even has a bear!). If Christmas movies and pop hits make you even more cynical than you already are and TV specials drive you crazy, watch this anyway. Like most things Colbert, it’s another outrageous parody piece, but it’s not uber-pessimistic in the end, so one can still enjoy it heartily. The songs are good, the scenes are funny, and shall hit you with its joyousness leaving you full of Christmas cheer. It is also as it says, “the greatest gift of all”. Respect the tagline, bitches.

______________________________________________________

On the tenth day of Christmas the magical invisible tree elves decided to bring you:

PIMP YOUR DAMN CHRISTMAS TREE

As mentioned previously, Dimebag had an upside-down tree. But there are countless other ways to have a tree that doesn’t look the same as your grandma’s or the ones everyone on the next tree blocks have (unless you’re rich enough to have flown 40,00000 miles just to buy new decorations or something. And ps. having ‘black and purple instead of the traditional red and gold coloured decorations’ don’t really count when everybody’s doing it). For something a little different, here’s a pretty mighty example: The Pac-Man Christmas Tree.

And of course, The Lego Tree.

Glorious. But really, I suppose you wouldn’t want to be breaking your legs buying a bazillion jumbo boxes of lego to build a standard 6ft tree, and I’m also assuming you don’t want this:

It’s just a little bit pathetic, and frankly, you’re no Wayne Szalinksi. Let’s be realistic here. How about decking your halls out with a themed Christmas (a theme of a theme? Ho-ho! I’m onto something!). Hang Mr Hankey or a Star Wars character on your tree or something. I’d kill to see a tree version of the Zombie Wedding Cake, for example (see what I did there? Props if you also have a train in the middle killing some people/zombies at the same time). How awesome would that be!

And how epic is THIS little guy?

The best tree I’ve seen ever though (on the Internet), has to be this one. How cool would you be? It’s poppy, it’s kindof tongue-in-cheek, and because the primary ingredients include a laundry basket and a toilet plunger, you’re all set even in this time of recession. And all the sci-fi nerds on the block would worship you.

And while you’re at it, how about a Doctor Who Christmas Special marathon, huh?

______________________________________________________

On the eleventh day of Christmas the-older-children-who-still-read-books recommend:

DAVID SEDARIS – ‘HOLIDAYS ON ICE’

This one is a seasonale staple for yours truly. Most people who have read and enjoy Sedaris’ work would agree that he is gifted in the observe-and-report-the-problems-in-society department. The featured story, SantaLand Diaries, about the author’s experience as a Macy’s Christmas elf is equally LOLworthy and eye-opening. As in, if you’re into real working people accounts of manipulative parents and manipulated children, it’s probably right up your alley. The other stories are taken from either Barrell Fever or Naked (his other books), and written as both pieces of fiction and non-fiction. Go with Sedaris, for a bit of classic bah-humbuggery which is hilarious and easy to agree with because society is broken and Christmas drives you crazy, but it also touches you in some humane way at the same time (deep deep deep down).

______________________________________________________

On the twelfth day of Christmas my now bland, non-functioning, brain shall grace you with the presence of…

SEX. NOW THAT I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION… (or similar clichéd attention-grabbing sentence here)

Isn’t ‘twelfth’ such an odd spelling/word? Anyway, HERE.

.

.

Have a Merry Christmas, everyone!

Time for the next tardy installment in the most epic blog series of the decade!

Onward!

8.) Remakes, Reimaginings and Sequels

Hollywood came up with some great stuff in the Noughties, but it certainly wasn’t all about the new and the innovative. Remember that great cult film, or trilogy, or series of films, or cartoons you loved in the 60s/70s/80s? Well in the Noughties they were BACK in blockbuster form.

Comic books were never safe in the Noughties as the likes of Batman, Spiderman and Watchmen were reimagined, sometimes once all over again, for the big screen. Sometimes the results were great: Batman Begins and The Dark Knight was acclaimed even though it tread over territory much of us were fine with in the first place. Sometimes the restful corpse was brought back to life, and then beaten to a bloody pulp much to all of our dismay: Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull, or the Starwars Prequels, anyone?

In the Noughties, it’s a given that a successful film automatically becomes a franchise. Merchandise is not enough, and we were often stuck with the sequels soon after too. Kiddie film franchises were notorious for this: Ice Age, Toy Story… and then there were the horror films… 48 milliseconds later we’re up to Saw XII and suffering through the Return of the Living Awful Evil Dead.

Worse, we had spoofish abominations such as Scary Movie, Not Another Teen Movie, Epic Movie… ugh!

Will the tenties bring a little originality, or more of the same?

7.) Global Warming

As I write this, an iceberg the size of Sydney Harbour is headed straight for my small Western Australian city. When I was a kid, our teacher April Fooled us into believing a truck was going to drive straight past our primary school with an iceberg on the back, on it’s way to top up the emtpy dam outside the town. I feel like my 8 year old self is going to finally get her giant iceberg that she waited to plaintively for back in ’93, and it’s going to crash straight into my local.

But icebergs- aren’t they great? They’re pretty great, especially when they’re not melting and stuff, which means I get to keep my neck above water. Australia is a pretty low lying landmass you know. In theNaughties, icebergs gripped our imagination. And it was all thanks to Al Gore, and his documentary flagship for environmental consciousness during this decade: An Inconvenient Truth.

Al Gore was The Dude. His film showed us that we were doomed, and he was prepared to jump on board a cherry picker and wow the crowd with his powerpoints that went outside the projector space to prove it. Consequently, global warming, or it’s new, somehow more accepted monicker ‘climate change’ colours much of the media in the Naughties.

We kinda went off our diet of disaster movies that we so loved to dine on in the Nineties, probably partially due to the events of September 11, making the sight of national monuments crumbling to dust, being smashed by aliens or giant lizards or smothered by tidal waves slightly less palatable to audiences and movie bosses for a while. In the late Naughties though, we were ready for just a little bit more, and climate change was thoughtfully addressed with moving acting and relevant simulations in the poignant disaster movie, The Day After Tomorrow.

Now, ‘green’ is no longer a dirty word, it’s now a word that spawns half-hearted, guilty apathy- and today, unfortunately, a lot of bewilderment. We all know this is something we should be paying attention too, but we don’t really know why. As we all keep half an eye on the latest climate change summit where our Dear Leaders will agree on not much of anything, we can all look forward to an uncertain future and maybe a couple more disaster films.

The Price of Obsession

We all have our obsessions. They sneak up on us and take hold. You can have hundreds, some only lasting a few hours, others lasting a lifetime. But have you ever thought about the monetary cost of an obsession? I have. So allow me to share it with you.

First off, let me tell you a little bit about my “current” obsession.

TIM ROTH.

For those who are unfamiliar with Mr Roth, let me enlighten you. He’s an English actor, who is probably best known for his roles as Mr. Orange in Reservoir Dogs and Pumpkin in Pulp Fiction. He’s currently starring in a US TV Series called Lie To Me as Dr Cal Lightman. He was nominated for an academy award in 1996 for Best Supporting Actor, for his role in Rob Roy. Let’s just say I can go on and on about Mr Roth. That’s what obsession does. You Google them, you watch all their movies (or listen to all their songs etc), and if you’re a shopaholic like me,  you start buying things, like DVD or CD, books about them, action figures… the list goes on. But how many of you actually calculate how much it costs?

DVDs

Pulp Fiction = $14.95

Reservoir Dogs = $9.95

Lie To Me Season 1 = $59.95

The Incredible Hulk (Bluray) = $29.95

Others

Brand New Day by Ryan Starr (opening song for Lie To Me) = $1.96 (from iTunes)

Reservoir Dog Soundtrack = $24.95

TOTAL = $141.71 (which, considering this obsession only started last week, is quite a lot) (Damn my spending habits!!!)

Thank god I had trouble finding Mr Orange action figures. Then I’d be in trouble.

What about the amount of time you spend, especially if you’re obsessed with an actor or actress, obsessing over them. Watching their movies, reading books about them, listening to music etc.

Lie To Me = 585 minutes

Pulp Fiction = 148 minutes

Virgin Territory = 93 minutes

Dark Water = 100 minutes

Rob Roy = 133 minutes

Reservoir Dogs = 100 minutes

Planet of The Apes = 115 minutes + 20 minutes of special features

The Incredible Hulk = 112 minutes

TOTAL = 1406 minutes of my life… that’s almost one whole day (24 hours)

$150 and 24 hours of my time. That’s the current cost of my Tim Roth obsession. That’s quite small considering some other obsessions I’ve had over the years. Lord of the Rings for example. DVDs, Books, Action Figures, Lunchboxes and countless more items of licensed merchandise. What about Star Trek? That involved a car trip to see Karl Urban (Bones) in person. And next year I’m travelling interstate to go to the Tim Burton exhibition. It all adds up, but, honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I take pride in my “things” (I know that’s rather materialistic of me) and I love having memories that I can share, and that make my rather simple life more exciting. Because that’s pretty much what keeps me going.

So now it’s your turn. What are you currently obsessed with? Or have you had an expensive obsession? I’d like to know, so I don’t seem like an obsessed maniac =D

Here it is:

That’s right Ladies and Gents, it’s the countdown of the decade- and the only one you’ll want to read for the rest of this year! I almost guarentee it.

This countdown comes with a special challenge: I’m going to personally expose my Gen-Y ass to all and sundry and apply a limitation: each nomination can only be illustrated with what can be found in my personal computer’s My Documents folder! So-long, Google Image Search, we don’t need you! And without further ado, let’s begin.

PART ONE…

10.) Macros, Memes, and Lolcats: 2005-2009

Groupthink manifests in the Noughties in the meme, and reveals the desires, aspirations and lofty ambitions of the collective human psyche: Here be KITTNZ, and THEY IZ IN UR NOUN VERBING YOUR NOUN, but probably, they’re just watching you fap.

Thanks to the nefarious online forum 4chan, lolcats entered the pop culture realm and still hasn’t left it, leaving an indelible mark and spurning such dedicated weblogs such as icanhascheezburger.com. They’ve become pretty passe and are no longer deemed funny according to the fun police, and macro-able memes are experiencing a shorter and shorter half-life, as the disasterous Kanye meme of 2009 readily proved.

meet Bodie (middle) and Katie (right), alumni of Big Brother Australia seasons 8 and 7 respectively.

9.) Reality Television

The Noughties were definitely the decade of reality tv shows. The basest desires of the viewer could find cheap nourishment here as ratings gold was struck. At first, it seemed TV networks were delving into potentially intelligent social experiments, or dabbling in truly democratic television: but then, it simply became an overdose of the cheap, the terrible and the tacky, and revealed that deep down inside, we are just nasty nasty people (US series The Swan is a serial offender in my eyes).

Reality TV sometimes nurtured the Lord of the Flies Island Boy inside all of us: in many series, our vote could determine the fate of who will stay and who will go: and if we had the conch, we’d be kicking ass in Survivor or The Amazing Race. Big Brother appealed to the darker voyeur in all of us, causing controversies worldwide in it’s various international incarnations. George Orwell rolled over in his grave a few more times in the Noughties.

Other shows were simply a replacement for the budget funniest home video and variety shows more popular in televised days of yore:  So You Think You Can Dance, I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here!, X Factor, and the numerous international incarnations of the popular Idol series gave us occasional superstars and a whole lotta wannabes.

Reality TV encapsulates everything that was wrong, and everything that was so, so right about the Noughties.

This is for you, Genie:

YES.

That’s the end of part one folks! Stay tuned for the next installment of THE TOP 10 POP CULTURE GOLIATHS OF THE NOUGHTIES…

When I first discovered Muse three years ago, I felt foolish. I had been wondering the music universe without a compass for years. A steady childhood diet of Queen and T Rex, followed by a somewhat unnutritional yet still ultimately satisfying coming of age period dining on only the worst derivative eurotrash pop and boyband flavours, I felt like I had come home when I found Muse and I felt like a fool for not discovering them earlier. It took a devastating breakup and a sulking, sweeping change from Pink, Delta Goodrem and Matchbox 20 to the national Alternative youth station, Triple J, for me to finally find my mystical musical match. I heard Knights of Cydonia on breakfast radio and I was transfixed. After some quick Youtubing (back in the days before the Great Warner Ripdown), and a quick exclamatory post on my livejournal, I immediately bought the entire back catalogue. Ridiculous guitar theatrics? Check. Glittering symphonic ensembles? Check. Pianoriffic pandemonium? Double check. It was the glorious marriage of britpop with glamrock and I embraced it. I was a little late to the Muse game but it didn’t matter. I’ve always been a musical dag, my playlist still contains a little too much Britney, but I felt like I was finally acquiring some cred.

Matthew Bellamy and friends could do no wrong. I saw them live and it felt like a pilgrimage to holy Mecca. It was on the 11th of November 2007 at the Supreme Court Gardens and I had mostly found my own kind: it looked a little like the leftovers from a comic convention, and all the Muse nerds were very orderly. It was just nice.  It was epic, but it was nice.

One day I was hit up by some dude on MySpace. He seemed to like Muse as well, and lived down the road. That was nice. Boy Muser and I bonded over our love for Bellamy and his Bros. He had a bit more Muse cred than me and actually wore a faded Absolution t-shirt on our first meeting, and had seen them live quite a few more times than me. Over a year later and we have been going out for over 6 months. It’s nice.

But something has gone wrong. Terribly wrong. Muse’s new album came out. Boy Muser didn’t like it so much. I tried to like it. I did. I tried, but something has soured my relationship with the Teignmouth rockers, and I know what it is.

Stephanie Meyer.

” I am in your debt, rock gods of Muse, for yet another inspiring album. Thank you for continuing to create my favorite writing music. “

Oh dear.

I was aware of the first Twilight book as it was seeming to cause a bit of a stir amongst some of my reader friends. I expressed a desire to read it: the cover looked pretty and I was down for a little supernatural chicklit- it was slightly out of my comfort zone but I’m a pretty open minded reader, especially if something came packaged with pre-approval and sequels. I quite enjoyed the book, but it was not the poignant, moving read I expected it to be. I ploughed through it, it was a page turner- but much in the same way the Babysitter’s Club books are. I didn’t mind a bit of bubblegum and the characters were a little insipid, but it was also a teen novel (despite seemingly being marketed otherwise) and I accepted it as such. I was as yet unaware of her swooning dedications, and published playlists, that are now associated with the sequels.

I didn’t think anything of it until things got a little out of hand. A little ‘Robert Pattinson’ out of hand. I’m sure you all know the rest.

“Meyer also weaves contrast, irony, symbolism and literary references into the Forks saga. She does it with subtlety and skill. The arc of the series as represented in the celestial bodies of the titles is no less than breathtaking.” – unnamed blogger

I knew something was up when there were some strange comments being posted in the Muse last.fm profile page. Some nonsense about the Twilight soundtrack, Stephanie Meyer’s fangirling, abusive threats to some people called ‘Twihards’ and othersuch business. What was going on? On the Muse forums, threats were being made to ‘new’ fans of Muse. Surely new fans for a band is a good thing? Well I would have thought so.

Suddenly, it seemed like Muse were everywhere. I felt a little possessive, and a little bewildered- suddenly all these new Musers were coming out of the closet. It went from knowing 2 livejournal friends who were into them to 15. Facebook was abuzz with gleeful, praiseful reviews of their latest offering, The Resistance. I couldn’t handle the ‘takeover’ of my exclusive, special band that most mainstream FM listeners had never heard of, this was total overdose! I felt lost, frustrated, scared. So short a time I had with Muse, and I felt like it had been snatched from me.

But surely, the music is all that matters. But as I was to find out, perhaps it is not so.

I am yet to listen to the album objectively. Boy Muser was condemning, which broke my heart. I like two songs on the whole album people, two. I want to love them all! I want to listen to it on repeat in the dark, and be swept up in the unicorn-glittery madness all over again like I was for Black Holes and Revelations. I want to hear epic, edgy guitar riffs like on Origins of Symmetry. I want a clichéd, piano-driven anthem of fluffy chaos that nerd boys can conduct YouTube WoW videos to, like on Absolution. But all I got was some clarinet and some slap bass. There was supposed to be a ‘symphonic monster’, and I rubbed my hands in anticipatory glee as Twitter and the Muselive forums bubbled with Muse-y speculation, but all I got was a bit of a ‘symphonic meh’. The album was a bit of fun, but it has mostly stayed in it’s cardboard (cardboard!) case since I got it. I haven’t even watched the making of DVD. A year ago, this would have been blasphemy! There was only one thing to do: I put myself on Muse Detox.

And I will prove that I am not prejudiced against terrible vampire fiction infiltrating the mystique of my fangirlish desires. In fact, my favourite band when I was 13 was Savage Garden- and they named themselves after something out of an Anne Rice novel, or something (I think).

It’s rumoured that Matt Bellamy acquired his wardrobe at a certain garage sale in London of a washed out Australian 90′s popstar- and no ladies and gentlemen, it wasn’t Peter Andre.

Fun fact: did you know Daniel is now married to Kathleen of ‘original’ High 5 fame, Australian readers? Darren is still making awesome pop music, but Australia has forgotten Savage Garden and swept their legacy (a record 10 ARIAs at one awards show) under the carpet. Shame, Australia, Shame.

In the 90s, we knew all about vampires. Anne Rice filled goths schoolbags, and I’m pretty sure there is actual sex and bloodsucking in those books, but don’t quote me on that, I haven’t read the things (maybe I should). Oh, and there was that whole Buffy thing.

Boy Muser and I came up with a theory- there is the supernatural pop culture cycle. Vampires (Interview with a Vampire, Buffy the Vampire Slayer), witches (The Craft, Practical Magic, Charmed, Sabrina),  zombies (Resident Evil, 28 Days Later, zombie marches on YouTube). Vampires… and next witches will be back in. So this will all blow over and the Twimums will dust off their pentacles, crystals and book of shadows which have been sitting in the bottom drawer since 2002.

MUSE-ically, the Twifans stole everything from me. Just like they will fill the D at the Big Day Out- my whole day ruined as I will be wholly concentrating on not feeling unreasonably bitter. There is no doubt that the soundtracks have a little indie cred- New Moon especially. I would put it on if I wanted to go to sleep. But Muse should be ashamed of themselves for the ‘remix’ offering of ‘I Belong To You’. It looks like they spent half an hour chucking some naff guitar over the top of it- and this is my favourite song from their new album.

Friends, before you commiserate me and my woes, stop. I know very well that I should bloody well get over it. Boy Muser is right, genius can’t get it right every time. And in years to come, when the movies are finally all made and this all blows over, maybe I will be able to quietly listen to Muse again, like the days of yore.

But watch out. Your favourite musical artist could be next.

Books on the other hand, bless them. They don’t generally get old, or out of date. Unless you’re a sad economist writing about the top six ways to fix the recession, or of course, an overrated sexy vampire novelist who is apparently so untalented that she plagiarizes.

Back to my original reason for posting.

There are some books that you know you’d want to read upon its release. More recently for me, that book has been Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up.

Sure, it’s been awhile since it’s been out, but I’m a (relatively) busy person. Also, I’m not into Border’s original retail prices, so I was more than ecstatic to find this in a clearance bin earlier this year (and yes, it did take me THAT long to read. To be fair, I have a long list to catch up on). Ten dollar book for the win! (Also: this review is way overdue, since I finished reading this over a month or two ago, so I’ll apologize in advance if I get details wrong.)

I’m generally not fond of autobiographies– for most part, I find them a little dare I say (in such an obvious, stupid manner), self-absorbed, and borderline narcissistic. Sure, there have been great people in history, entertainment, and whatnot, but to dwell into their private lives feels wrong at times, imposing. It’s like finally meeting your favourite rockstar, only to realize that you preferred the guy on the records about a million times more.

Swooping statements that I sometimes make however, are always open to exceptions– I love David Sedaris, am a sucker for non-fiction experienced-based essays (of the Sedaris format, think Sarah Vowell, or George Saunders’s nonfiction), and I love Steve Martin. I suppose that’s all you need to get yourself hooked, but after all that reading, I think that may be open to considerable doubt.

Here’s the thing: I don’t think you need to love Steve Martin, or even stand-up comedy, to appreciate this. In some ways, it isn’t an autobiography, or a chronicle of Steve Martin’s life. It’s a journey into a person’s physical and psychological obsession– an insight into the ever-evolving obstacles that comes with perfecting one’s craft.

Narrated in a remarkably humble, nostalgic voice (you can so hear it in your head, yep), the book was more than just about performing (although this is very well-explored and broken down into the most minute details imaginable). There is of course, the standard Hollywood stuff– growing up with a distanced father, travelling to unknown towns playing in empty venues, the loneliness in fame, details of his sexual escapades (perhaps it’s just me, but for some reason I didn’t expect this from Steve Martin), meeting and working with critically acclaimed people; and then there’s the cool stuff. Without giving away too much, here’s a few tidbits: what excited him (the almost childlike wonder for magic and props), his constant drive to be innovative (hence his comedy being a conglomeration of everything from props to more intellectual punchlines), and the outstanding time and company that he experienced (if he’s telling the truth, he would be the reason behind why The Eagles weren’t called ‘Eagles’).

One cannot help but relate to the moments of such ordinary fanperson-ing he illustrated: from the earlier moments of awe and admiration of magicians in Disneyland (where he worked), to appearing on SNL, to dating Dalton Trumbos daughter (Dalton Trumbo! Y’know, the guy behind the anti-war tragedy, Johnny Got His Gun- a book which I highly recommend, made into a movie, which also inspired Metallica’s hit, One. Useless trivia is fun). Also an outstanding feature is that thirst and hunger for knowledge. His fascination with Philosophy surpassed even actual students I know, and the passion seemed pretty damn real to me.

As you may or may not know, all this ended– or in his opinion, he had to. It had been a wild ride, based on the book. Love it or hate it, one cannot deny that Steve Martin was just an entertainer, a craftsman, or just somebody with a certain flair for words.

Equally self deprecating and acknowledging of his success, he was truly a thinking man, a guy who lived his life taking steps towards exactly what he wanted– and what a journey that was. And if there is anything we could learn from this, I would  consider that to be:  it’s okay to give up sometimes. It is okay to get bored, move away, and try something else. Take it from the man who has lived through that wonderful cliché (sure, he may be a superstar, but what difference does that make, really?).

By the way, a note on the entry title: It’s his birthday today.