From the Street

Not one to get all caught up in festive cheer, I thought I'd bring you something far more interesting.



It turns out that Kate Nash is indeed from "the street." Here she is, on "the street." I wish her well.

Santa? Santa? Who the fuck is Santa?

Fucking Christmas eh? Call me Scrooge if you want to but you have to admit that it's just a fucking ballache. Just another excuse to go out, spend a fuckload of money and decorate your house in a load of shiny shit like a gay man gone crazy. Nobody actually believes in Jesus any more anyway, so why don't we just scrap the whole thing? I mean, there's just so many things wrong with Christmas that by the time the big day comes, you just don't give a shit anyway...

Shopping;

So, you need to buy some presents eh? Well I know, lets all rush like fucking idiots into the nearest town centre and run around the place like twats, looking for some tacky shit that no-one actually wants. Sound good to you? Nah, me neither. So why does 99% of the population feel the need to do that? So that when I go into town having carefully thought about what I'm going to buy, I can't get into a fucking shop for the thousands of dickheads bustling around in fucking Santa hats? If it wasn't for you people I'd get my Christmas shopping done in half an hour. Oh, and ladies, it's not obligatory to look at every single shelf, in every single shop. Okay? Just buy what you want and fuck off home...

'Oi you, yeah, the dick in the Santa coustume. Do one, I'm trying to buy some shit, yeah?'

Christmas cards;

I know what would look brilliant in my living room... a load of cheap-ass cards from people that I don't really know! Has anyone ever said this? No. So fuck off, I don't want one the cards that you bought in a pack of five hundred for about 25p. In fact, I'd rather eat my own face than read the generic Christmas message that you thought up in ten seconds and then replicated five hundred times.

'To Adam, Merry Christmas. Lots of love, Santa'... 'Yeah, thanks Santa, I hope that reindeer bums you. Merry fucking Christmas to you too.'

Food;

Turkey, Potatoes, Sprouts, Carrots, Parsnips, Pigs in fucking blankets. Chocolate, Trifle, Christmas pudding. If I eat all of this I'm going to die of heart faliure, so if you don't mind I'll just make myself a sandwich... You want me to sit at the table with the family? What, so you can jabber on about how brilliant Christmas is and how nice that piece of shit cardigan I got from Nan was? Piss off.

'Look, cheers for cooking all of this shit Mum, but if I wanted to be a fat bastard I'd go and eat at McDonalds every day, yeah?'

Decorations;

Let's have a competition... Let's see who can make their house look the most ridiculous by putting up a big-ass tree in the living room and throwing shiny, glowing shit at it until it's so fucking bright that everyone has to wear shades to watch TV. Then, we can see who can piss the neighbours off most by placing huge flashing lights outside, aiming them at next door's window and switching them on at 6am every single day for a month. Then, once Christmas is over, we can spend five days picking tiny pieces of glitter out of the carpet. Brilliant.

'Yeah, fuck you neighbours.'

Carol singers;

Knock knock... Who's there? A load of fucking gypsies that want me to pay them for singing some bullshit songs that I didn't want to hear in the first place. Are you taking the piss? You best had be...

'Deck the halls with boughs of holly? Why don't you jog on before I deck you, you scruffy little twat.'

Christmas films;

Great, everyones opened their presents and the Christmas dinner has been eaten. Thank fuck for that. Let's go and watch some TV... Hang on. What the fuck is this? Home alone? Oh screw you BBC. Screw you.

'Now you're really taking the piss'

BNP for the win?

Wow, it's been a while huh? seems even we get writer's block.

The real meat of today's post is about the State of the Nation. We currently have a moderate Socialist Government, not quite socialist enough for my liking, but what do I know?

Problem is that our current government, while I've always defended it as the best of the options available to us, has a problem. Socialism has its grounding in allowing people basic freedoms, whether thats religion, sexuality or political affiliation. Recently, the entire list of members of the right-wing British National Party, or BNP, was leaked on the internet. Immediatly, party members began losing their jobs, and our liberal nation became awash with hypocrisy
.
Extreme parties, or ones with a heavy left or right leaning, have NEVER prospered in the UK, as a whole we are a moderate, tolerant society... we don't like to complain. The World sees us polite, running around with our bowler hats and tightly rolled newspapers, bursting frequently into song despite being rained on. So, why all this fuss? The BNP will never get into power, so why does it matter what their members do for a living?

Your Plumber could be one maybe;


Sad thing is, although the BNP's views oppose my own in many ways.. I could be tempted to vote for them. We're currently going too far the other way, a friend of mine is having real difficulty joining the police full time, mainly because he isn't black/asian/gay/transgender/female/ginger enough.

I sure as hell think those groups should be represented, and I love that this is the only country I've experienced where its perfectly safe to kiss your boyfriend, while wearing a leather mini dress, with a pink mohawk, while burning our flag openly on the street.. and no-one cares. Its YOUR right to believe what you wish, hell, that attitude is the envy of the world. Yet we've become so proud of our little multi-cultural melting pot, that immigrants are favoured for jobs and housing over native Brits. That just isn't right, they should have an equal shot, and not be favoured purely because they tick one of the minority boxes.

You can build the biggest house in all the land, and not pay any tax on it if you declare it a mosque.. make it a church and its time to cough up sunshine.

So you see, I COULD be tempted to vote BNP, as liberal and socialist as I am.. I'd much rather have a party in power that cares about me and my loved ones, than one that allows people who are openly plotting the downfall of our nation into government positions, and favours them for housing, jobs and healthcare, simply to keep up appearances at the UN.

Plus, to dispel any confusion, the BNP aren't all that racist. They love Americans, Europeans, Australians, Kiwis and Canadians. They don't even want to kill muslims, they simply believe that our two cultures are so different, its wrong to attempt to mix them.


Its sad to say, but in the interest of being fair minded, you have to see the logic. I can't stand wife beaters, yet in some countries, its perfectly common place to beat your wife.. to keep her in her place. Thats the attitude of a moron, and frankly, if you enjoy such activities, you should live with your own kind.. and probably have to become homosexual I'd imagine. Yet, its natural to assume that guys like me, and the wife beaters, are going to get into some.. "unpleasantness" at some stage, and thats not cool, so maybe we should agree to disagree and stay out of each others way.

Then there is the other hypocrisy, the one that Muslim Fundamentalists spout all over Al-Jazeera, ruing the good name of normal muslim folk, who I've found to be remarkably pleasant and hospitable. They sit there, denouncing the west as hedonistic and immmoral, but they always drive Toyota Land Cruisers, fire Stinger missiles and given half a chance, will shack up in the UK with a Mercedes-Benz and Satelite TV.. make your minds up.

Immoral?
Then how come you guys commited more rapes against under 16's than any other ethnic group? How moral is that? - comes the cry of the BNP, and even I'm left wondering the answer.

So there we go, even I'm a hypocrite. I love almost everyone, but even I have limits. Thats ok though, because as our governemnt has shown, you can believe what you like and work where you want.. as long as you aren't in the BNP.


but to show I haven't gone totally mad, heres some more reasons why these intolerant nutjobs, just won't get in, simply take your pick ;) ;

A pointless waste of my life..

Today, I wasted 8 hours on a management training course, 8 hours that on my deathbed.. I'll almost certainly want back.

The majority of the course is on communication.

"What is Communication?" declares the book.. As you know, this is a very simple question with a simple answer.. except it wasn't.

Apparantly, if you smile on the phone, people can tell. Bollocks, there is no way you can tell if someone is smiling via the medium of the telephone.. you can assume from their tone that they are, but thats it.

It didnt end there, we were told that other forms of communication were body language, music and singing, braille and e-mail. Certainly they are, however, how is this dicussion relevant to managing my warehouse?

I really can't recall the last time I wrote a haiku about how our trucks were overloaded, or displayed my stock levels to the board of directors using the medium of interpretive dance.

This rubbish is exactly why the economy is slowing down so badly, we all spend too much time pissing around. I honestly swear that in the upstairs office the other day, everyone was sat on the ground, throwing and catching "The Idea Ball"..

"oooohhh.. Catch the idea ball!"

"F**k off, and while you're at it.. do some work. I'm here 52 hours a week so you can f**k around catching the idea ball. I'm off now because there will be alot more foul language if I were to stay around."

It doesn't end there.. meetings are filled with words that don't really mean anything;

Imagineering, Brainstorm, Streamlining the business..

Am I the only one who thinks this is all crap? I certainly hope not, but rest assured I wasted the trainer's time as much as she wasted mine. There was a feedback sheet, it asked "What are your aims for this training session", my list was as follows;

Indulge you and get it over with

Get home

Fill my pockets with the free sandwiches at lunchtime

I'm proud to say, I acheived them all.. maybe not such a waste after all.

Guest Content Day 2

Today, we replace The Hardcore Effect, with The Allen and Craig Show.

Another contribution from across the water, they did a fantastic job right up until they lost the camera man.

Lets get this sorted.

This may make little or no sense to you if you only know of our Blogspot stuff, but bearwith me.

As you probably don't know. The Hardcore Effect goes out in many forms of media, through many outlets.... this attracts a fair bit of attention and daily our e-mail inbox expands that little bit further.

Recently, our media has become an outlet for a lot of negativity.. and we aren't too cool with that.

It started sometime ago now, when we were contacted by a moron, using the name "America Superpower".. who used a message board we frequent relentlessly to slander our country and spread misinformation - for example he claimed we pay a 40% rate of tax to the monarchy, which is so stupid its beyond measure.. we do no such thing. He also went on to claim many other things. Soon he was joined by some friends, between them they caused quite abit of upset among our mainly European audience.

We love debate, so made the decision to to allow his opinions and vice-versa.. he'd eventually wear himself out. I decided EXPLICITLY that this debate was not to creep into any of my posts anywhere, and it didn't until that decision was revoked a few days ago, partly to accomodate the showing of the award winning Top Gear Special, and to allow some other posts not currently published on our blogspot page for the time being, to bolster the defence of our home nations in the face of blatant racism.

We, of course, did what we thought best, and have now upset a portion of our American audience. This goes against the whole point of these projects. Our rule is to generally direct all controversial statements and views toward large social phenomenon and faceless institutions. We do not tolerate personal or racial attacks. So with immediate effect, our monthly topic [America] is being withdrawn, which is a first. Partly due to our British audience being unable to rise above a petty minded moron's small views without equally disgusting retaliation, and partly due to our American audience's inability to accept any criticism of their country even in the face of the large amount of positvity we discovered. There, we shared the blame equally. You are both as bad as each other now PLAY NICE!

The point of any of our topics is to be objective. It was just as important to point out the flaws as it was to point out the good things. We have no sponsorship for a reason.. so we are impartial with no vested interest. We don't care if you come here or go there on your vacation, as long as we have given a fair view.

So, lets put this unpleasantness behind us and press on. While we sift the 3,469 e-mails we have in the inbox at the moment, mainly advertising new and unique ways to increase the size of your penis. I'm under orders to point out the root of this issue. Some just might say I got the rough end of the deal.

All this trouble stems from a mutual jelousy. We envy Hollywood, you envy our music. We envy your contemporary culture, which oozes cool, you envy our rich history. We envy your cars, you envy ours.

Behind the scenes our two lands get on famously. American military technology saves British lives daily, don't get me wrong.. we're tooled up something rotten, but when it comes to getting the most bang for your buck, the US does it fantastically well. On the flipside, American Generals display a HUGE preference for working with British soldiers.

The Royal Marine Commandos and Paras are in huge demand, needing only a small army for a small island we are notoriously picky. I got kicked out despite passing all the training purely because I may or may not lose too much weight on operations, one guy got kicked out over a knee injury when he was seven. We have the longest and most intense infantry training in the world.The SAS is still rumoured to have never lost a man. So, we complement each other perfectly.

You have mad guns, we have mad skills. Its a thing of beauty.

As I was told in training.. "There's nothing like being with friends, meeting new and interesting people from a foreign culture.. and shooting them."



Our cultures each fill voids in the other's, we share a lot of common history and ancestry. So enough is enough, the message threads are closed and the guilty from both sides are being dealt with by the board admins.

That is all.

Preparation is the key

Despite a serious slowdown here, our readership is on the up. Sadly, we're all rather busy with University, being drunk and preparing for our 2 hour video special in December. So, we'll be passing you on to some equally intelligent people who'll be stretching our usage up with videos and the like and answering your questions.

Today's video comes courtesy of Scott, via his youtube show, with extra commas and added questions, to you, from the US, in reference to the previous post which caused so much approval/mild disgust.

The Ocean is not the only Barrier

I like Americans.

I especially like Canadians.

I'm not so fond of France, as was once said "France, like Wales, is a beautiful country.. ruined completely by the people who live there."

Yet, in the past week I've found myself siding with the Frenchies more than Id perhaps expect, because it seems that any debate I get into with most North Americans.. no matter how eloquent, politely voiced and correct my opinion.. results in a barrage of misguided anti-european rhetoric and constant, over-inflated claims of saving Europe.

"We saved your asses in the war!" is one of my favourites, whenever I gain the upper hand in any dispute.. this is the big gun that is always wheeled out by every ignorant moron and narrow-minded simpleton who ruins the reputation of the vast majority of North Americans who have a brain.

It annoys me for a few reasons, namely ; 1) Its a very big and arrogant claim to make, 2) The person making the claim was invariably not involved in said conflict and 3) Its not really true.

However, I'm not going to get drawn into another debate with people who receive all their history lessons courtesy of their DVD player. I'm here instead to instill that most British of traits, Tolerance.

One chap only today decided to let rip on the subject of my country.. a place he has niether visited nor lived in. Claiming the UK is "A huge welfare state".. I can tolerate that comment.

I tolerate it because I am safe in the knowledge that its not true, we have some of the highest levels on employment in the world, and the very highest standards in literacy. British made industrial and engineering components have the lowest rejection rate from their customers of any on the planet.

I'm always told that we rely on American investment, technology and protection.. again not true.
We invented the jet engine, the scramjet, radar, the television, the internet, the railroad, James Bond, the hovercraft, Depth charges, the bouncing bomb, Disc brakes, electromagnets, the electric motor, the fax machine, holography [holograms], Penicillin, Australia, the periscope, polyester, the submarine and most importantly, toilet paper.

We had the largest empire in the history of the planet, containing 1/4 of the world's population and 1/3 of its land surface.

We got the Zulu nation to surrender in around 30 minutes.. the shortest war in history. All the cruise missiles in the world didn't scare Saddam enough to wave his white flag at that rate.

Yet, we don't keep going on about it.

As much as I love Americans, you have made cheap cars that won't turn corners, used the movie U-571 to claim you captured the enigma coding machine from the Germans- when it was actually us, lost in vietnam, held the olympics and chosen to broadcast your most ignorant of views on the world while being home to possibly the largest proportion of non-passport holders in the world.

All this in itself isn't so bad, but the problem is.. like us in Britain, your period of dominance in the world is at an end. It's Chinas turn next.

Forget Russia and the US as the world's superpowers, its going to be China and the European Union. Economically, you are in a serious mess. On the foreign policy front, you are hopelessly ignorant, and unbelieveably arrogant.

This behaviour cannot continue because your time at the top of the tree is over. So, let's stop the unpleasantness, yeah?

.. and we're back

Hey all, I'm pretty much recovered now, so as from tomorrow, its business as usual.

cheers

Down with the sickness

Hey people!

long time, no see. I do apologise for this but, as you can tell by my suitably rocknroll reference above, I'm spectuacuarly unwell.

Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible

much love

Blogger's choice awards

With two weeks to go, our assault on the Blogger's Choice Awards is going spectacuarly well considering we're up against blogs that have been going since the dawn of blogging time.

Despite the numerous e-mails we've had stating that it seems impossible to sign up and vote for us, we currently lie in 35th place [out of serious Thousands] in the "Hottest Daddy Blogger" category, despite not one of us being fathers. This is fantastic!

So, we need, at an estimate, an additonal 200 votes to win the category. That would of course SERIOUSLY piss them off, and would be a nice little "fuck you" for making it so complicated to vote. We believe the sign up issue is resolved, so recruit your friends, neighbours, families and co-workers and lets uphold the motto of The Hardcore Effect;

"Making A Mockery Of Everything You Stand For"

So, get over to - http://bloggerschoiceawards.com/blogs/show/51868 right now, and make the difference. Prove that expanding into The Experience Project wasn't stupid, that beer on your breakfast cereal is not insane and that awards about blogging are a total waste of time.

We will love you forever for it.

Plus as extra incentive, if we win the category we will release a christmas album of cover songs chosen by you, for free. Hows that float your boat?

Simplify, man!

After yesterdays simplified look at Politics, my love of simple things has extended yet further to other areas of life.

Sadly, my annoyance has too.

Why can't everything in life just be plain and simple? I must try in future to keep all my posting as simple as possible to allow the maximum audience enjoyment I think.. in a time of universal deceit, simply telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.. and I'm a revolutionary, baby!

Is it beyond the realms of human ingenuity to simplify the small print on a credit card commercial?, just to give people a fair shot at figuring out if its wise for them to get one [It almost never is for the record] would make life so much more pleasant for people.
Complications ruin life, nowehre more so than technology. Daily you or I may come to our computers, push the switch and expect everything to work. This way of thinking is probably ok, if you apply it to say, a new car. When does a new car ever break down? Hardly ever, thats when.We have been reduced to seperating "good" and "bad" cars on very minor details, but with computers its a totally different situation.

Modern computers are far more powerful than ones that have been sent into space aboard the space shuttle, things can..a nd will go wrong. This in itself is not the end of the world, but you can see it from there.

This because it's not the breaking that pisses us off, its the inability to diagnose or repair said malfunction in 90% of cases without aid. Why is that? Needless complexity I'd say. Now, I'm not for one minute saying we should make simple computers out of organic peace wood and bits of beard, I'm saying we need to reign in the people who make and program them. The computer nerds.

Think about it, when your computer gets the blue screen of death, or displays some indecipherable text about "General Protection Fault xx000.110.020xx" or "Illegal Operations" then promptly bursts into flames, you must remember that some imbecile knows what the problem is and must then have written the text you just read. The fault could be repaired in some cases by as little as tinkering around in Control Panel.. but does it ever tell you that?

"General Protection Fault xx000.110.020xx" could, in all probability mean "Theres a bit of dust in the graphics card slot, give it a blow and all will be well". They KNOW what these faults are, but they NEVER tell you? why is that?

Then theres the case of my previous computer, which would, whenever it felt inclined, switch off. I would switch it back on, only fo ti to condescendingly inform me that appear to have shut down my computer incorrectly and would I like to view the help file? Why?!?

Well, I suspect, its revenge. These are the people whom you probably teased a little in your youth, for sitting alone, in the dark, in a basement, on World of Warcraft, Masturbating over a level 70 mage in a bikini. This is their revenge. They have made this perplexing technical language, then a help system that doesn't work, purely so you have to rely on them. So your life is inconvenienced purely for some poorly thought out and underserved abuse you may or may not have dished out them in high school.

If you didnt go to the prom with the spotty ginger kid, its YOUR fault too. He's probably now in charge of programming your ipod, which is now going to break for no real reason. That'll teach you.

So, I've had a brainwave. Hardcore OS. Forget windows, forget linux and forget Mac OS, we need an OS for the people, by the people who can be arsed to learn how to make it.

Just think how much better and cheaper your life would be if instead of "General Protection Fault xx000.110.020xx" you got, "look, I'm a bit warm, switch me off for an hour or so, alright?".

That would just cut out the waiting on the phone for the tech support guy to inform you that you are infact, a simpleton. Just a thought.

The Hardcore Guide to Politics

With all the political turmoil going on these days, I thought it was about time your old uncle Benji lifted the fog a little on the basics of politics.

The first thing anyone must remember is that despite what you see in the news and what is said in the paper, you have to look past it. Try and think about who wrote the article, filmed the piece or who owns that particular media outlet, I assure you they'll con you if it gets the result thats best for them.

So, lets strip all the crap away and look at it at a basic, bullshit free level.

ANARCHY
We'll start with anarchists, for some reason, probably the PR machines of the other political factions, when people think of anarchy they think of disorder and street violence. Anarchy is actually the principle that people should be allowed to govern themselves without the interference of a central government. No Tax - Good, No Corporations - Good, its all looking pretty good so far, but remember without an interfering central government, who'll bother to build roads, build an dstaff schools and hospitals? I'm sure anarchists have a solution for this, but I am not aware of it, and I'd urge you not to judge it purely on my portrayal.

COMMUNISM
Communism, like socialism and anarchy, is a political system that has undergone a massively successful character assasination campaign by western governments and corporations. Often confused with Stalinism [which as we all know isn't very nice], Communism actually works on the tenet that everything becomes property of the state. In very simple terms, If there were ten people in a country, those ten people would each be given a 1/10th share of all the companies and factories in the land. In actuality it doesn't quite work like that, but the base principle is that if these things are in the hands of the people rather than a group of obscenely wealthy business men, Fair wages will be paid, which results in greater job satisfction.. and if you are making butter, for a state controlled [owned by all the people] butter company, and you are going to have to buy the end product, you'll be damned if its going to be anything less than the greatest butter in the world. It doesn't outlaw being rich as such, but its a system that attempts to keep the differecnes between rich and poor as small as possible so that everyone is comfortable. there has only ever been ONE TRULY communist government.. in Chile.. and it worked so well that the CIA are reputed to have been assigned to bring it down. Can't have that on the doorstep of capitalism can we?

SOCIALISM
Socialism, again like Commnism, gets a lot of bad press. Its seen as somehow "Unpatriotic" to be a socialist. Yet, lets be fair, you are probably reading this in a western country, ruled by a government of rich men who are privately educated. They'll be damned if they are going to let you get big ideas and sweep their cushy lives from under them.
The vast majority of people are Socialists [Einstein and Martin Luther-King included], even if they don't think they are, they do reguarly claim to be in favour of what are basic Socialist policies. Socialism stops a bit shorter on the money front than Communism. Its ok to earn a good solid wage. They agree that a rocket scientist should be paid more than the lady who brings the tea.. what Socialists believe is that the tea lady, regardless of her place or circumstances of birth, should have the same opportunity to become a a rocket scientist if she so chose. If shes bad at it? ok, but at least she was allowed to try and wasn't kept out of the best schools purely because Daddy couldn't afford to make a "donation".

LIBERALISM
Again, a bit less Socialist than Socialism, but basically the same. The problem with all the left wing philosophies is that they believe there is goodness and intelligence in everyone. So this is how we end up with murderers being taken out of prison to learn to be a carpetner, and young offenders get taken to disneyland because they aren't bad, just neglected. They are generally in favour of immigration, and see the world as one big community. Somewhat soft on crime and in favour of political correctness.

CONSERVATISM
Now we enter right wing territory. Conservatives, are in favour of big business. They like immigration, but won't admit to it, they like it becasue if a country has a large pool of labour available to fill jobs, the rich people who vote for them won't have to pay such high wages. Google Margaret Thatcher and you'll get the picture of how this works, or see my blog entitled "David Cameron is a Penis". They sell themselves on nationalism and pride. There is a clue to their intentions in their name.. Conservatives.. They are wealthy, and they want it to stay that way. Here in England, they take the police off patrol in poor areas, tried to remove our right to free healthcare because their rich friends can afford to go private and don't much care for funding everyone elses healthcare, attempted to convince us that the introduction of a minimum wage would bankrupt companies and result in mass unemployment. What is also true is that they have been receiving cash donations for their respective campaigns.. from a series of dodgy people, many of whom are heavily linked to the current global economic crisis, in that they caused it and got very, very rich off our misery.

However, if you are quite well off or own a business, I can totally understand if you vote this way. I sympathise too, many of these people have lived privilged lives and so can't relate to us poor folk. I do understand how people are duped into voting this way, I also understand why people would choose. Again, remember I am being a bit biased becaus eof my families usffering under this kind of government.. do some impartial research.

FACISM
Finally, we arrive in the land of the fascist. Hitler was a prominent fascist, as was Mussolini. They harbour a strong "Us & Them" Mentality. Hitler, despite being Austrian, believed that Germany was for Germans.

He later loosened this and like most modern Facists, believes in a "European Brotherhood". Ranging in intensity from a mild refusal to co-operate with non white/non christian countries, to full on ethnic cleansing a la the holocaust to keep Europe "pure".

If you were German, to be honest, Hitler did alright for you. He promised jobs, he made them, he invented the Volkswagen Beetle, the Autobahn and alot of military tactics still used today. He united Germans and despite my hatred for the man, I have to say, he did a good job in Germany all round. It was his intolerance that caused most of his problems.

In summary, do a bit of research and use your common sense. As much as it may be tempting to read a holocaust denial piece written by a man who claims Australia is a fictional country, use your brain and realise thats just mental.

Look into who truly has the best intentions, and not who kisses the most babies.

oh, and one last piece of advice, just let me clear some jargon;

Tax Cuts - sound nice, actually aren't. They may give you 1p back out fo every pound you earn, but if you earn £100 a week, you are only £1 better off. Yet if you earn £20,000 a week.. well you get the picture

Cuts to public spending - Ermm.. sounds good again, saving money? lower taxes, right? well this is actually the area where you WANT to be spending money. Public spending is hospitals, schools, the police, the army. Don't forget that.

Finally, good luck, its a jungle out there.

Bitches be crazy..

For those of you still unaware, it seems more than likely that we'll be appearing live on Blogtv this December for two hours of interactive fun and frolics.

One of the topics I've been considering is crazy exes, I've had my fair share and it seems when it comes to downright insanity the ladies in our lives have the edge.. only just though.

We'd like you to e-mail us your crazy ex story, and the best will win something lovely and probably alcohol flavoured.

At this point I was going to share a story I'd heard recently about one particular female beserker that will probably blow all of yours out of the water, but its such good material I'm going to need it for the live show frankly, Instead I'm going to inspire you with a story I saw in a magazine some time ago.

Basically, the author was out on a date with his partner, he already had his doubts about her mental stability, after enduring the oh-so-original lying about being pregnant situation - the emotional crutch of all true mentalists - I digress however, at some point in his evening a small disagreement broke out between the happy couple and he decided it was best to go home and stop his lady causing a scene.

She followed him outside, where she kicked his shins while screaming at his like a twisted banshee, before lunging forward and taking a huge bite of his nose.

She then faked some tears, wiped his blood all over her face and ran into the nearest bar playing the old damsel in distress card, cue a line of large men who would all like to be the hero [and sleep with her afterward], pouring out intent on breaking the young chaps legs.

He made a quick escape and she never came home, although he goes on to say that she does still phone his mother claiming to be his wife.. which is nice.

So, c'mon, don't be shy. Send your craziest ex stories to Hrdcoreeffect@live.co.uk, or simply comment below.

There could be a little somthing in it for you.

Writer's Block

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Put a donk on it!

Hey people, sorry that the big update I promised hasn't materialised yet, I will do it at some point, I'm just a bit lazy like that....

Back to the roots.

I really have been neglecting our roots here recently haven't I? For shame!

The Hardcore Effect was founded, by Team Well-Safe, to set the world to rights, keep the writers in beer and women [or Hollywood actors it would now seem] and generally teach the middle class white people of the world how to keep it real.

It was all about finding things to get angry about, blogging them, then getting immeasurably drunk at the weekends and rocking out. Interviews with us in magazines such as "Practical Pimping" were commonplace. I rocked long hair, baggy pants and a wide stance. I enjoyed a varied sex life with drunk strangers, and being with people whose company I enjoy.

Thanks, however, to things like The Daily Mail and David Hasselhoff, alot of the fun has been removed from my posts of late and I've become so concerned with curing the world's social maladies that I have completly forgotten about "keeping it real with the homeboys", to coin a phrase.

How shall we remedy this? Simple, I shall take it back to the roots by getting drunk at some point, complaining to my local council about some flowers and using Kabbyo's dyspraxia as an excuse to cop a feel, as I would have, circa 2005.

Word.

I Need Sleeeeeep...

Just to show that I don't only think of the lighter things in life (Viggo Mortensen and sex) all the time, I've decided to write about a topic I feel (kind of) strongly about, especially since I haven't slept in about 47 hours. It's a miracle I can still type right.

Growing up in the suburbs of Toronto taught me many things. Mainly that the only thing worse than the suburbs are the people who actually like living in them. I also learned a lot about the lengths people would go to to make their lives interesting. Not that I blame them, but if anybody should be self-mutilating, it's the parents whose subjected to several hours of Chiodos after coming home from a hard day at work (they work at an insurance firm. Everyone works at an insurance firm because it's the suburbs.)

Anyways, where I lived, all the cool kids had therapists. You needed either an acronym disorder (ADD, OCD, ADHD, etc, but you could fake it), a rough family life (again this was the suburbs, so nobody's parents actually beat them. They were just "so, like... shallow and stuff.") or an atrocious taste in music to make it in The Island.

Personally, I got the short end of the stick disorder-wise. I had/have dyspraxia, which isn't as cool as it sounds (and that's saying a lot because it doesn't sound cool at all.) It just meant I fell down a lot, couldn't do sports very well and had really bad handwriting. Instead of a therapist, I got a speech therapist (which incidentally isn't very high up on the social ladder), and a psychiatrist. 4 years, and all they'd told me is that I'm mature which I know for a fact is shit. I've woken up up in a velour cat suit and a tye-dye training bra ("Gollum as a Prostitute" in the catalogue) more times than I can count (after a few stiff drinks.) Needless to say, I'm not mature at all, so that was a waste of a lot of time and money but hey, it got me out of math.

What I'm trying to say is, if generally being clumsy and bad penmanship is a disorder, then we're all fucked. The only problem I ever had was the injuries sustained from falling down a lot, and the painkillers that followed. But eventually, they're going to find a "cure" for this involving pills and seratonin and brain changing things. Call me paranoid, but they're going to take over the world via Ritalin or something and everything's going end in a haze of 1984, Cat's Cradle, Horror-sci-fi, and Stanley Kubrick movies (not Lolita, I liked that one). Or maybe communism. I don't really know what I'm talking about anymore.
Shit, insomnia makes me sound like a Scientologist.

So many stacks of paper... no bloody time.

I am truly astonished how much work I've got done recently for this "tome of wisdom", so to speak.

I am also astounded how little of it I've managed to type up and post, I have enough material for over a month I'd say, but with work and my becoming 22 in the last week, I've just had no time to share it with you, and for this I apologise. I'm working 13 hours today, I'll try and begin my clearance tonight, but don't hold your collective breath.

Book review: Angela's Ashes

Actually this isn't a book review at all- just a celebration of this book's time capsule quality, as it contains quaint Irish pearls of wisdom that you probably wouldn't hear on the streets of Limerick any more:

"You want another piece of bread? Bejesus- next thing you'll be wanting an egg as well"

"Tis not a thing in the world that beats a fine feed of milk and apples"

"I like the look of that waitress. Maybe later we'll go back to my house and have the excitement together."

"Ahh come now. As long as you've got your health, a good head of hair and shoes what have you got to complain about?"

"You've got the filthy hair of a presbyterian"

I reckon this is how all book reviews should be: just a list of amusing and occasionally made-up quotes. Try using the above phrases in your local Irish pub. In there's one thing they'll love it's an English guy who can do a good Irish accent...

Happy Birthday to Mark, Danny, Phil and ... Me!

I am now officially old, but on the bright side other people who are now 22 include

Mark - 10/09

Danny - 17/09

and Phil - 22/09 [..but we aren't twins]

Happy respective Birthdays chaps!

oh..and happy birthday in advance to Charlie for tomorrow. Have fun.

Its time to reveal all

Hey! you're back! I suppose then you'll be wondering what it is exactly that we've got up our sleeves, well allow me to enlighten you.

We hate a lot of things here at The Hardcore Effect, greed being a major one of those hates, another being our epic lack of funding and another being our equally epic lack of advertising and promotion.

We now have a solution of sorts.

You will remember from school, or the day itself if you are in that time of life, that the good old USA landed on the moon..conspiracy theories aside. This has given them the delusion that the moon is now their property, in the same way that the artic belongs to Russia.. in that it fucking doesn't. As such they have set about planning moon bases and allowing companies to sell real estate on the moon, but how and why has it become theirs to sell? You can no more own the moon than you can own the air in my lungs, yet you can now buy yourself area on the surface of the moon which is said to be expected to rocket in value once building commences there, which is.. bollocks.

They are obviously selling the parts they view as unfit for development. duh!

Also, this is clearly an infringement of the rights of a Sovereign state.. as you'll remember I am in actuality the Prime Minister of the Moon, but we'll disregard that because I've claimed ownership of something else. The Hardcore Effect now owns the moons of Jupiter.. all of them.

I have deeds to that effect and everything, are they legal? Well, no more or less legal than your certificate to ownership of land on the moon.. but a million times more interesting because of the suspicion that there is water on Io.

So, to solve our aforementioned problems and to take advantage of humanity's greedy nature we are selling the moons of Jupiter. Why buy a square foot when you can own a whole planetoid?

Theres nothing to say we can't, I've checked. So check out Ebay later tonight where we'll be starting our auction for some of the hottest, out-of-the-way and affordable real estate in the galaxy.

Told you it was astrange one, clearly our genius is again underestimated. Happy bidding!

Something Strange..

.. is still happening.. just a bit later than we expected due to something else strange happening.

Not long now.. we promise.

Something...

... absolutely fucking mindblowing will happen, next Friday.
Okay, that's not true, but I didn't want to be the only one who wasn't having insane amounts of fun.

On another note, if anybody happens to have a place to live in New York that they're willing to rent out to 3 girls and a transgendered fish (all of whom are desperately broke, but talented in their own way), then hit me up.

Something strange...

.. is coming tomorrow.. Do NOT miss my update.

I assure you, its probably the LAST thing you'd expect us to be doing, and it is GENIUS...

Happy International Talk Like A Pirate Day

Avast ye treacherous dogs!

Today be International Talk Like A Pirate Day.. seriously, google it.

So enjoy this, the holiest day in the hardcore calender.. lest we make ye walk the plank..

Arrr!!!

Below is a list of our Top 5 Pirates, see if you agree;

1- Captain Jack Sparrow - Drunk

2- Captain Morgan - Mildly spiced and somewhat distracted.

3- Captain Hook - Idiot

4- Captain Birdseye - Frozen

5- Random Bus Driver - Practically a pirate, Plunders your Gold. Miserable bastard.

David Cameron is a cock... and so are you.

I'm writing today about a very simple concept, but its one that is fast escaping the thoughts of many in the country.

If you earn less than thirty grand a year, you have to accept that the Conservative party don't want your vote.. in fact they don't even like you very much.

You are below them, a grasping, work shy, lowlife. They despise you in the same way I despise coleslaw. Most of our readers will be too young or absent minded to remember what the last tory government did, so lets have a little recap.

Firstly, all their mates are wealthy enough to afford private healthcare, so, they decide that because the people who vote for them don't use the health service, they don't much want to pay for it. So, they deliver a lovely big tax break for the rich and take medical care away from the poor by starving the NHS are cash.. then.. they announce that the NHS doesn't work, and so can be scrapped.

Next, they take the police out of poor areas, to police the rich areas, showing the upper classes that their vote counts, while leaving the rest of us in a whole pile of shit. They announced that the introduction of a minimum wage would result in 30 million unemployed, becasue their rich mates who employ us all couldn't afford the wage bill.. evidently this is bollocks because here we are more than ten years later, and unemployment isn't ranked in the top ten things ruining the country today.

During the rule of Maggie T. unemployment was massive and employers could shit onto their employees from a vast height, and get away with it. The Tories responded by saying that the epic number of unemployed people could be attributed to an epic number of people who just didn't want to work.

They truly believe they ahve risen from a life of poverty, improved themselves and become successful. Theya lso believe that ANYONE can do this if they work hard enough. Clearly this is stupid, and their views on education prove it.

Most working class, and many middle class, families didn't have access to university. I would say that out of all my friends who are university educated, there isn't one I could say with complete conviction, would have received that education, at the same quality, under the conservatives.

The real issue is that you are all listening to the papers about everything bad thats going on, who blame it all on poor old Mr. Brown. Lets strip away the bullshit a moment and remember that this guy is the best chancellor we've had in living memory, the economy was in rude health under his guidance and the current recession is just an inevitable trough after a massive peak. he also takes the blame for many things that the Tories or Tony Blair decided, remember, it takes a fucking long time for things to be done in politics.

Tory councils don't spend their cash, [or waste it as here in Garstang on stupid floral displays] then claim that labour is obviously not working. Tory ruled areas starve Labour councils of cash, and claim the same thing again.

Its time to be big enough to admit you are a bit of a simpleton and you've formed an opinion purely to say you have one, and for the love of god don't vote Lib Dem.. did you hear the stuff they came out with the last few days? I thought not. Its a near certainty that if you are reading this, the only party that gives a stuff about you is Labour, and as imperfect as it is, and stupid as it sometimes seems, its far better than any of the alternatives.

Theres a simple reason for this, many in Labour are from working class families and have strong ties to worker's unions that were screwed over reguarly by Mrs. T. I don't blame the tories for being the way they are, they were brought into a life of privilege, and that can't be changed any more than my upbringing can, but working class upbringing allows you the see and experience the greatest suffering there can be in a first world country, you gain a sense of social responsibility far greater than any middle class white kid could. You know the consequences of political actions, you've seen and felt and suffered under them. We outnumber the privileged, and its not yet the end of our time. The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few.

Coming Sunday...

What is the fastest thing on land?

Stevie Wonder's Speedboat... but the second fastest thing is the rate of fire on our inappropriate question gun which will be aimed squarely at Preston's premier indie band, Mindshock, on Saturday night.

Catch up with us Sunday, after a drunken night with the band in The Mad Ferret, where we will give you their views on just about everything that matters.

Keep it here.

The Hardcore Tour Update

The Hardcore Tour marches on with Adam away till this weekend, my ranting on France are almost complete so that will at least provide some solid subject matter as we enter the cold[er] and rain[ier] season here in Blighty.

On another, our flagship stop in Stockholm is probably going to be postponed until June/July next year. Why? Well, it has come to my attention that not only will postponing it mean we have a larger entourage with us to show the swedes how to truly party (naked with champagne, random acts of violence and kebab eating), but we will also coincide with some beer flavoured festivals, that rare Swedish occurance known as daylight, a kick ass sing-along party and we can guarantee enough funding to make the resulting vids and rantings far more worthwhile.

I'll be back before midnight with a piece for you, patience is a virtue.

A sad case of events

It is almost the middle of September now, and not one of our celebrities has had the common courtesy to drop dead. This also means that with Kabbyo being the only one left to give us her predictions, she could snatch a late victory with her access to more up-to-date celebrity health news - easily viewable in either "Big Brother: After the Surgery" or the ever popular periodical - "Celebrity Thrombosis Weekly".

Perhaps its time to spike the punch at a top awards ceremony? Already, Ravi's competetive streak has him camped outside Paul Daniels' house with a rifle and only yesterday I mailed Fats Domino a recipe for one of Mike v.2.0's drinks, that if followed correctly, should see him go blind and drop dead within four minutes.

Fingers crossed eh?

Hey

Hey peeps. Big update on the way when I get back. Be prepared...

Birmingham Beer Festival

I know I know- BIRMINGHAM beer festival, BIRMINGHAM folk festival...I've been spending an unhealthy amount of time in our second city recently. Obviously any event that takes place in Coventry is automatically far superior, but we should still support the Brummies in their efforts to be as cool as us, even if they fail miserably...

The Birmingham Beer Festival, held in Aston uni students' union showcased over 80 real ales and ciders, as well as a book sale and a tombola. Wahey! We're in 1974! No strippers though...
Here are a few of the pint-sized highlights:

Dark Star Espresso- good for keeping you awake. Aftertaste of burnt log.

Brewdog Tokyo Imperial Stout- packs some punch at 12%. Apparently is used as part of Japanese ritual suicide.

Church End Mango- John Smiths that had been mixed with mango juice in a drunken frenzy. Not a pretty result.

Windie Goat- not as goatey as I'd hoped for.

Hornbeam Horns & Halos- very horny indeed, but the taste comes and goes like John Leslie

Grindleton Hairy Fairy- everyone was too self-conscious to ask for this one

Roger's Old Trouser Snake- ...and this one

It would have been nice to have had more beers with topical names. Large Hardon Collider Ale? Gordon's Credit Crunch Stout? Bishop's ASBO? I took the plunge and joined CAMRA but unfortunately they only had large t-shirts left. "You'll grow into it" chuckled the brummie ale-buff who gave it to me. Maybe CAMRA membership will eventually lead to mild obesity. At least the t-shirt would fit...

The Collected Works of Benji Hardcore - Genius, Renaissance Man, Quick to anger

After all these months and years of regularly reminding you that I am, infact, a genius, I thought it was about time to start massing my collective works within this site to allow quick reference for when your kids' kids have to study me and my genius in school, after I'm dead.

I've already brought you The Hardcore Theory, which proves I earned my Phd in "being wonderful" and my doctorate in "bringing sexy back", I also have 3 GCSEs in erotic Massage, but what next?

Well, today I've decided to unveil one of my boldest statements ever, and simultaneously answer some deep, profound questions that have plagued mankind since the dawn of the civilised world. As we no doubt all know, the CERN laboratory in Switzerland has built a LHC [Large Hadron Collider], which is nothing to my FLHC [F**king Large Hadron Collider], but I will not steal their thunder. They say that when they begin full particle collisions on the 21st of October, they will learn some of the deepest secrets of the universe, others say they will forma series of black holes which will slowly and painfully pull us all apart molecule by molecule in what will seem like a few thousand years thanks to the massive time dilation you'd experience on your way in.

Other "scientists" claim that the effects will not appear until December 2012, bizarrely the same date the Mayan calender ends, where upon the magnetic poles will shift and there will be cataclysmic weather patterns that shall wipe us all out for good. I'm not speculating on this in particular, I'm more concerned with the questions CERN want answered, namely;

a) What happend in the micro-seconds after the "Big Bang"
b) Is faster than light travel possible
c) Is time travel possible?
d) Can we use such knowledge to combat disease and cancers?

Now, instead of all that cash, they could have just asked me;

a) A fucking large explosion
b) No
c) No
d) Probably not

I shall now explain my reasons for my answers to b and c.

Firstly, time and light are relative, ok? This means, in basic terms, if you were to avoid the advice of your optometrist and Jon Snow, and look directly at the sun, you would see the sun as it was 8 minutes ago. Keeping up so far? good. Now, if you travel faster than that light approaching from the sun, you (and I know this sounds dumb, but its true and very complicated] would travel back through those 8 minutes and possibly more. So, yes you would travel back in time. So, how do I know its not possible to do either if I just said its theoretically possible?

Well, those beardy blokes down at the SETI program finally get an alien on the blower who invites us over for a few beers, to take a vehicle capable of light speed would mean it still took you a fair old while to reach Pluto, which means you'd be bloody late. You'd need to go faster, but, if you did, you'd arrive at pluto in 1939.. which is before you were sent, your ship was built and most importantly, before you were invited which is just plain rude. So you tootle back home, only you get back to find its now 1867 and you mistakenly marry your great-gran.

What about time travel in other ways though? Well, that isnt possible either. why? Let me enlighten you.

Firstly, lets say you build your time machine and pop back to 1939 to give the old allies a bit of help against that naughty Hitler boy with a donation of your mobile phone and such for reverse engineering purposes, firstly, whatever help you offer makes no difference because as we know, no-one did do this because history would record it, infact no-one EVER does it, because it would have already happend.

Even if you say you did, these guys would then reverse engineer your mobile phone, technology would advance, and you'd never have had such a primitve phone in the first place to go back in time with.

Time travel has other implications, say you went into the future and saw yourself as a fat, balding 50 year old, you would then know that whatever course your life took, that is for certain where you would end up, or else you wouldn't have been able to witness yourself in such a mess to then know to change your lifestyle. You would, however, also know that NOTHING you do between now and then will result in injury or death, because you look fine in the future, no matter how you triedto kill yourself, something would always avert it. You'd certainly be left with a hopeless feeling if knowing no choice you make matters, becasue you have no choice.

So, to summarise, how about we leave that collider alone boys, maybe we don't want to know these things, and close SETI.. that way we can spend its funding on Beer and chips.

Blogger's Choice Awards 2008

Voting closes sometime in October, and no.. we aren't going to win anything this time around it seems. However, our base readership remains strong and we will welcome you all into our New World Order when the inevitable apocalyptic rain of Scotch Eggs comes to flatten the heathens.

Frankly, just to be nominated in so many categories was flattering enough and of course massive thanks to those of you that voted. Our plans to continue improving things here has led me away from the actual writing part of this project recently for which I apologise, but before you have the Child Support Agency hound me to death, wait for the fruits of my toils.

Like Arnie - "I'll be back", but unlike Arnie, it won't be to grope your breasts, unless you ask nicely.

Cleaning out my closet

I was going through my stuff the other day to see how much crap I can jettison. Anyway, I discovered a scrawled note I wrote while drunk 2 years ago. A draft for a brand new Hollyoaks theme song that I had clearly planned to post to its writers. I've done my best to decipher my childish scrawl to bring it to you here:

Hollyoaks Theme ("Cheshire's Calling")
(Apocalyptic pipe organ opening)

All along the city walls
Lofty spires and busy streets
Cheshire's playing on my mind
And the call to arms was truu-uu-uuue

Hollyoaks- we're sure you understand
Hollyoaks- give me the will to survive
Nourish my soul and stay my shaking hand
From the old cathedral to the bingo hall
Answering Cheshire's caa-aaa-aaa-lll

(Xylophone solo)

Hollyoaks! Bring me back from this cycle of hatred- YEAHH!! (BIG FINISH)

There you have it. I found two other drafts as well but they're too satanic to publish. Hope you appreciate its artistic quality, and conclusive proof of the mind altering effects of Hydes bitter...

Tip-toeing The Thin Line Between Lord of the Rings and Reality

Well, it's been a while. Partially because I was suffering some ridiculous foreign disease (chicken pox) that made me look like a gory chocolate chip cookie and it may also have to do with the fact that the most exciting thing I've done in the past week was take showers (which, albeit, could be quite fun with the right kind of showerhead, no...) But this has nothing to do with sexual frustration, but rather to do with my newest plan to miss work/school.

Right now, the tentative plan is to y'know, watch movies, cavort about downtown Toronto (which is the only part that isn't utter shite), and seduce Viggo Mortensen. Well, actually that's not exciting at all. It's pretty routine stuff, but probably a lot more interesting considering it is Film Festival time which significantly highers my chances (on the sex with Aragorn front, that is).

Unfortunately, it's going to suck, because the only people who care are hipsters or Entertainment Tonight (which I absolutely don't watch ever). BUT it's North American and female (mostly) and shorter which gives me something to write about.

So far, I have been to the premieres of Burn After Reading, Blindness, Mia et le Migou (I was bored) and Wavelengths. Clearly, I haven't had sex with ANY fictional characters and am now short about $120.00 but that's okay (except for the part where I was not in Isildur's heir's bed.) But, on the bright side, I did meet Brad Pitt while getting hot dogs which I think is definitely foreshadowing of some sort (hopefully nothing to do with a sex change though.) The Coen brothers kicked ass, but unfortunately, I still can't tell them apart. And that was Burn After Reading.

The Blindness premiere, however, was way cooler than Burn After Reading because a) it had less old people and b) Gael Garcia Bernal. I also met with Dominic Monaghan and told him he looks "an awful lot like Dominic Monaghan" whereupon I was told by a Frenchman that it was, in fact, Dominic Monaghan. This sort of thing happens to me ALL THE TIME.

Then, I was told Adrien Brody was somewhere in the vicinity as well, and in a leather jacket to boot. After that I just sort of died of sexual frustration.

No, but the movies were great. Definitely worth checking out. So, all in all, it was alright, and Viggo Mortensen is still in town so at the very least, maybe he can tell me what Scotch eggs are (because he's supposed to know that kind of stuff.)

Keeping the northern faith

This weekend, I had my first taste of northern culture in 15 months and I enjoyed it muchly.

I was back in Manchester to check out my new house and ponder the future. I must confess that all this time away means that I go a bit loopy as soon as I have access to proper British food & drink. My first pub meal was a binge of steak pie, chips, ale, apple crumble and custard that caused me serious internal damage. This weekend was no exception and my attempt to drink every single beer produced by my nearest brewery could have ended in tears but was saved by tactical chips. But if you had to endure a year of drinking foul French lager that's about as classy as drinking urine out of a shoe, you probably do the same.

Manchester was it's normal self- reluctant chav husbands trawl through the shops with their wannabe WAG-wives, northern lasses with tight hair spill out of cabs and straight into the trousers of men in checked shirts, and the infamous Crazy Bus Lady preached to us on the government conspiracy involving a confusing combination of aliens and freemasons.
I was truly home.

I shall be rewarded for a year of crappy croissants. I'll have fresh wholemeal bread, afternoon tea and cricket on the village green. T'will be splendid. There won't be as many random tales of European adventures this year but it should be just as fun.

I'm going to be thinking a lot about our beloved nation over the next few weeks. What makes Britain Britain? Is it our obsession with sofa adverts? Is it Kerry Katona's face?
All shall be revealed very soon.

It's that time again...

The World cup may be almost two full years away, but already we have the fever.

I've been awake at night for months, planning my verbal assault on whoever receives Ravi's support this time around. Being a loyal kind of chap, my love affair with Swedish football is far from over.. and the home nations? I'm in with Scotland, I'm half-Scottish thus I can do such things. England's uninspiring and shambolic football, played by a bunch of greasy, over paid, fat, nancy-boys has pissed me off one too many times.

So, in keeping with previous coverage of the European Championships, I'm going to make my qualification predictions below, let the arguments commence;

The final distribution fo qualiying positions looks like this;

Europe (UEFA): 13 places
Africa (CAF) : 5 places (South Africa qualified automatically as host nation for a total of 6 places)
South America (CONMEBOL) : 4 or 5 places
Asia (AFC) : 4 or 5 places
North, Central American and Caribbean (CONCACAF) : 3 or 4 places
Oceania (OFC) : 0 or 1 place

S. American Qualifying Predictions;
Argentina
Ecuador
Paraguay
Brazil
Uruguay

African Qualifying Predictions;
S. Africa [obviously]
Nigeria
Egypt
Senegal
Cameroon
Ghana

Europe Qualifying Predictions (those in italics will qualify for 2nd stage quals ONLY and NOT Finals);
Portugal
Sweden
Czech Republic
Poland
Russia
Germany
Finland
Spain
Turkey
England
Croatia
Ukraine
France
Serbia
Scotland
Norway

Asia Qualifying Predictions;
Australia
Japan
South Korea
Iran

Oceania Predictions;
No Qualifiers predicted

North, Central America and Carribean;
USA
Canada
Mexico
Trinidad & Tobago

There we go, fire at will!

Chad Vader #3

Chad Vader #2

The Great Facebook Blow-off

After our Euro 2008 "let's change our names" stunt,I have decided any such activity in the future should be considered seriously before we just do it.

This is because Facebook have, it would appear, taken a very dim view of our antics. Apparantly, I have broken the user policy agreement in several key areas according to some. My posts about the German football team and certain other international footballers are offensive, and yet.. no-one complained.

Basically, my first rule infringement was use of the name "Benji Hardcore" a moniker given to me since even before The Deadlights all those years ago, when I took my Swedish name onto facebook all was tickety-boo, however, upon attempting to change my name back to Mr. Hardcore, or even to my real name, Facebook have frequently blown me off.

Facebook blew me off believing that no-one with the name "Heikki Backstrom" would choose such a name and thus it must be my birth name, I protested that it was part of our Campaign, at which point my posts were obviously unearthed. So, it would now appear that perhaps the only way to get my correct name onto facebook is to mail them two forms of identification and autility bill. This sounds a lot of work, and exposes Facebook's pointless rule system that states you must always use your FULL and correct name.. this sounds as much fun as drowning.

The policy is clearly that Facebook is a social network and as such is fun, as long as that fun in sensibly apporached and undertaken within some parameters, which is a bit like having the guards at Auschwitz partake in a "funny tie" day at the end of every week. Planned and controlled fun, is not fun. A social network just.. isn't.. without the use of nicknames and false titles. Lord Sheepy Van Der Sheep-Sheep and Jonny McGay are much better names to appear on your friends list than Steve or, in these cases, Dan or Simon.

So, with that in mind, and also taking into consideration that I'm a very lazy man, I will call Facebook's bluff, and continue on with my adoptive name, because by doing so I am making a mockery of their oh-so-serious naming policy.
Which suits me just fine.

Although, my mind boggles as to why Ravi had no similar difficulty...

Chad Vader #1

It has not gone unnoticed that the majority of readers and writers on this blog have at some point worked in a store or supermarket, so we thought you'd enjoy this series, starting today, obviously.

8 Reasons we're better than everyone else

Today, my computer is being a pain so my update will be brief.

Over the coming weeks we're going to be doing plenty of stuff besides our fortnight look at music in our local areas.

We shall be;

- Tinkering with the site, adding new fun functionality
- Getting our World Cup 2010 Campaigns off to a start with some qualifier based hilarity
- Learning some pointless Swedish for our raid on Stockholm
- Drinking.. alot
- Trying out a new kind of Scotch egg, I'm sure Rav will love that idea
- Bad-mouthing Starbucks
- Ghost writing angry letters to our local newspapers
- Attempting to sell photos of ourselves online to websites and magazines to see just how easy it is to gain celebrity status for doing fuck all.

Keep it here, cos no other blog bothers.

A bit of something new..

To kick us off nicely I have some lovely Deadlights news.

I've been back to the drawing board, worked my ass off quietly at home and despite the loss of the song writing genius and all round guitar hero that is my lifelong friend, Daniel Helme, things look healthy.

I imagine you'll now be wondering a few things and it would be rude not to say a bit so, the plan [which as we know may or may not come to fruition] is to work behind closed doors for the rest of 2008 at the very least. An EP is another obvious move.

What will it sound like? We don't know. Its the same name, but a whole new project and a sound has to be found I guess.

Who is involved? You'll find out when we chat to Ravi sometime soon.

For now, that'll just have to do you.

Moseley Folk Festival 2008

This was not as olde fashioned and kitsch as it sounds. Here's a brief roundup of the best bands I got to see at Birmingham's top festival weekend.

Chris Wood is one of the UK's top singer songwriters and certainly had a beard to impress. With songs about fish & chip romance and 4x4's, as well as topical gags about Gary Glitter he had the crowd eating out of his hand. His atheist anthem "Come Down Jehovah" had some tongues wagging but no one really minded because he's so grumpy yet articulate- which is what we all aspire to be.

Brummie punk folksters The Destroyers certainly had the locals in raptures but personally I was unmoved. Wide eyed Irish frontman Paul Murphy invited us all onto some kind of apocalyptic carousel as he shouted a load of tosh about a mouse that lived forever and some guy who asked to be buried alive then changed his mind at the last minute. Meanwhile, his 12 piece brass and fiddle collective worked themselves into a right frenzy with fake-swooning and silly poses.

The highlight of the night was undoubtedly The Bees, a six-piece from the Isle of Wight with their impressive blend of folk-rock, psychadelia and funk. Stir in some slide guitar, hammond organ and frequent instrument swapping and you get a pretty impressive spectacle. These were advert-soundtracks stolen by Citroen and Sainsbury's but played here as the good lord intended them. More than makes up for the ridiculous hats: cowboy, gamekeeper, milkman.

Closing the night was Jose Gonzalez- the hottest Argentinian Swede ever to come out of the mean streets of Gothenburg. He barely looked up from his guitar and his 10-minute tuning session irked the cider-fuelled Brummie audience. However, he was quickly forgiven due to his eloquent Swedish accent and a brilliant Kylie Minogue cover to add to his more polished acoustic offerings.

Overall a pretty good festival and good proof that Midlanders also know about culture and stuff.

Lancashire Music Fortnight

Thats right, as you guessed from the title pretty soon we're going to be bringing you the lowdown on the best unsigned talent from Lancashire, proving once and for all that the area is wrongly overlooked adnd is simply full of hot talent, and we don't just mean Dan Hendrie's arse.

Hopefully we'll be bringing you some sexy free downloads, interviews with the bands you should be listening to [because they aren't a bunch of pretentious wankers] and, what the hell, I'll throw in some surprising and unexpected Deadlights news before anyone else.

You can look forward to just about the best [we can lay our hands on] of;

Switchboard Spectacular

Mindshock

The Acoustic Project

Deadlights

Eat/Sleep/Events

The Corsairs

Kr!ss Foster

The English Tea

Former Sleeper Cell Bassist/Vocalist turned Producer - Andy Mitchell

and many more of those who get back to us.

You lucky bastards.

The Metro Movie

Hot on the heels of our hard hitting report on Metrosexuality, comes this masterpiece. Enjoy

Jane is 16, or at least she said she was. How much trouble are you in?

So today, we take a break from my experiences in France in favour of something else.

Those of you logging on still expecting to see full frontal female nudity will have to go disappointed a little bit longer, sorry.

Today, we talk about the news, or rather the lack of news we encounter everyday, and its effect on everything from food prices to the law.

This isnt just about my usual complaint that every week people go out and buy magazines about Jordan's new loft extension or Kerry Katona's fat arse, we're talking about sensationalism. The credit crunch is aprime example, as we already know, if people were to continue spending as normal the whole problem would evaporate but news where everything is ok is as much fun as drowning, so we're told that your bank manager has lost all your money down the bookies and as a result we're all going to be homeless and poor forever, accepting work from the new rich in Ethiopia and the Congo for 10p a year.

Further to this is the whole Gary Glitter saga, first off I must point out that Paedophiles do deserve horrible punishment. My suggestion is that they be shot, then crushed, then trampled by wildebeest into dust, then the dust should be fed to dogs, then we should blow up the dogs.

However, as the title of this piece may have suggested, thanks to sensationalism, old Gazza has been hounded to the ends of the earth purely because he used to be famous. Lets take a walk down real street for a second, you probably know someone who, in the eyes of the law at least, has engaged in "inappropriate activity with a child". The law states anyone under 16 is a child, so if, like myself and many of my friends some years ago, you are 16 or 17, with a 15 year old girlfriend, then you my old son are a dirty Paedophile, even if you're not having full sex.

Then we come to the disturbing trend of nightclub doormen taking "favours" to let underage girls in, not widely covered in the news, but we are all well aware it happens. Magazines aimed at teens show them how to look older, and a number of news stories I've read this week have involved underage drinking.

One in particular is another of these house parties arranged on Myspace, to which serval million univited guests turn up and trash the joint, everyone is very angry of course, but the 15 year old girl who organised it and had invited some men old enough to be her dad, just says;
"It was just meant to be a few friends round for a couple of drinks"

The men in question claim they thought the girl was 19, I saw a picture and I could easily believe that, but they get reprimanded by the press, and not the girl who if we're honest shouldn't have been drinking in the first place.

I digress though, back to Mr. G, now his case was different, the kids in question were easily recognisable as kids, but why was such heavyhanded [and appropriate] action doled out to him, yet the bar owner who used these girls, and the parents of the girls (who must have known they were prostitutes) not similarly dealt with?

The law is the law, simple as that. It isnt the place of the press to dole out justice, and we can be sure that this whole thing would have played out in much fairer fashion if the press had not hounded for Glitter to be shot (for Paedophillia, not his shit albums).

I agree with all current child protection law, but I do have an idea for a new one. It should be illegal to mislead a man as to your age, when I saw that photo and realised the girl in it was only 15 I was shocked, how many guys out there are running a serious risk every week just because a little girl wants to grow up too fast?

Shouldn't we deal with these magazines that encourage this behaviour? Shouldn't we shoot the woman who recently designed a series of clothes for 11-17 year old girls emblazoned with words like Hussy and Slut?

I'm sure many will be quick to respond to this piece, lets just hope that girl doesn't come to try her luck with you next time you're drunk, a touch of make-up and a thong saying "juicy" can obviously add at least 4 years to a girls age.

Happy Birthday Kirsten!

The baby of our group has finally reached the big two-one. There was a.. well, drunk, celebration last night for which I have proof in the form of the most monumental hangover. Nevertheless, Happy 21st to you, Miss Henriksen.

Please note, that below I have included that photo of us that you fucking hate, sorry, but at least I'm not as bad as Sheep.. how is that lovebite on your face?

The Hardcore Effect in France - Part 2

It was perhaps 10am when we finally emerged on the French, or wrong, side of the Channel. Straight away it was all wrong. Everyone was driving on the wrong side of the road and there were bagettes everywhere, like a hand grenade had detonated in a granary.

People always knock England, Nat especially, but we really take it all for granted. I'd come from a place where modern and new buildings made of glass and steel line the roads and the countryside is well tended, I had arrived in a place no less beautiful, but there was a lack of cleanliness and freshness about it I'd never encountered before. It had a rustic farmhouse charm, everything was nicely built from tan bricks and the sun shone.. right onto the graffiti.

Im a fan of graffiti in many ways, I enjoy such classics as "Stacey C. is fat whore" as much as the next man, but in France its everywhere. I didn't see a single building, wall, roadside, tree, car, train, person or nun that hadn't been tagged with spray paint, and while some of it was quite good it sort of ruined alot of things too.

Paris lay just ahead and I have to be honest. it was nowhere near as pretty as I'd always believed. My view was of rundown apartment blocks, graffiti and broken windows.

I'm fully aware that there are some truly wonderful places in Paris, St. Germain for one, so I guess I'd just been on an unfortunate route into the city. Yet, and I never thought I'd say this, London seemed prettier, cleaner and more alive than its counterpart. We arrived at Paris Nord on time, and with the abuse of the driver still fresh in my mind we disembarked to find the Metro system, which turned out to be around a million times better than the London Underground. Almost instantly all my assumptions of the Brit hating and snooty frog were evaporated in a welcome that was warm and genuine.

The woman in the ticket booth smiled at me and then treated me as if I was the only other person on the planet with the same blood group, and again later on the platform, a nice african gentleman pretty much threw himself onto the live line to prevent us missing the gap.

We got to Gare de Lyon a little early, but so did our TGV service, which was fast, efficent and pleasant on the way there but on the way back proved that if the French rail network were a racehorse, you would just shoot it and make it into substandard adhesive products than attempt to get it to do what you'd like.

It was a pretty good 8 hour train ride to Antibes, where I got to enjoy a great view of the Alps, which are great for snowboarding if you can avoid the ladies named Bunty and Francesca, with mink coats for the apres-ski and stupid multicoloured jumpsuits for the on-piste.

It was fucking hot, to be blunt, when we got to Antibes. Nat's sister, Julia, was waiting for us on the platform as she was to be providing us with somewhere to live for our tiem in France. She was genuinely happy to see us, not least because it had been a long time since the sisters had seen each other. I left them to it, and as they jabbered on in Polish we began the hot walk back, her giant suitcase in tow, which had begun drawing other pieces of luggage into its orbit.

We arrived at a more than modest studio apartment, where I promptly died from heat exhaustion. It was around now that the news was broken to me that our epic journey would take 5 hours longer on the return leg, and I would arrive at Hardcore Towers at 5am, thats 2 hours before I had to work a 13 hour shift.

Now, if you had been in the apartment opposite and you had seen me, you would have thought that I'd just set fire to my own hair and attempted to extinguish it with a bucket of hot sulphuric acid. Fiery, angry tantrum over, I died again.. on a sofa.

Luckily for me, tomorrow was the start of some seriously good things...

More Tomorrow..

The Hardcore Effect in France.. Part 1

So, France.

Despite the best attempts of Jeremy "Jezza" Clarkson to put me off, I had a really good time. As old Jez once said;

"France, like Wales, is a wonderous and beautiful country, ruined entirely by the people who live there"

I left at 1.30am, a truly ungodly hour, on a rainy Thursday morning. On the way the Preston, a city I despise like no other.. except Blackpool, I must have counted 4 lights on during my entire 11 mile journey, and three of those were in a 24 hour garage so it really hit home what a truly stupid time it was to be setting off on a long journey.

I hit Preston around 2am, where my only company in the deserted bus station was a lone asian security guard and a drunk bloke wielding the world's largest kebab across the street. It didn't bode well, only half an hour in and I was cold, wet and pissed off. I should say at this point that I don't want to put across the impression that I dislike travel, I very much enjoy visiting new places I just don't like to travel with Nat because this involves her suitcase, which is larger and heavier than the moon. I am the type of guy who can quite happily travel for a month with only a handful of t-shirts, some toiletries, some clean underwear and a copy of FHM. I of course found it curious she had packed her entire wardrobe, a car jack, a microwave, a lifesize cardboard cutout of Nelson Mandela and a set of musical tiepins but nothing in the way of pain relief for my destroyed back.

Because of the unique way in which The Hardcore Effect is funded, we'd been booked on a coach for the first leg of our journey. It had been decided after much chin scratching and pots of green tea that travelling the long and complicated way would provide great subject matter and would save our valuble pennies, infact there was very little difference between our chosen method and the smart mans choice, the plane. I must admit that at the time I had felt this was a smart choice, especially with two more destinations on the schedule before January, it turns out this was as smart and frugal as cutting off your own feet to save money on shoes.

Our Megabus service arrived late, the only positive about our whole trip on this service was the driver who took over in Preston, who makes the Queen's head butler look woefully inadequate and lazy. We boarded, and encountered a smell unlike anything outside a homeless person's boxer shorts and row after row of students. I've never subscribed to the "dirty student" stereotype, up until last month almost all my dearest friends had been students, they were clean, well fed and industrious people and plesant in everyway. Yet here I was, knee deep in the foul smelling detritis of my own wrongness.

If they weren't asleep across two seats, they were fat and sweaty. They all had the most horrendous B.O. and faded AFI t-shirts. Smart arse attitudes and loud poorly formed opinions surrounded me. Nat was, not surprisingly, uncomfortable with the idea of sitting next to one of these cretins and so when we saw there were no free seats together downstairs, we headed up to find there were even less seats upstairs. She turned and headed back down,a nd as I let her pass one fat sweaty idiot next to me piped up;

"yeah, there are no seats up here, so you're the dickheads"

No, he was the dickhead as I was about to prove. I waited for Nat to be out of earshot, and filled with a rage that came from nowhere, I barked firmly under my breath that either he woudl apologise for that comment and never open his stupid mouth ever again, or I'd be expecting an apology of one of his surviving family members. Now, I'm no good at fighting.. at all. Infact I'm quite pathetic, but this proved to be the tone for the whole trip - Anger and impatience. I was not a man with which to fuck and unable to back it up or not, I was going to murder the next person to test me.

The fat idiot apologised rapidly, which I didnt expect, I was almost certain that he would have got up, gathered some sweaty student mates, and kicked me to death. Somewhat relieved, I descended the stairs where Nat had found a seat next to a sleeping bloke with long hair, and I took up position behind some young Russians and next to a person.. at this stage that was all I could figure out. It was definitly a person.. a sleeping person with a cagoul on and the hood pulled up.

We set off finally and I considered sleeping, but the noisy foreigners in front put me off this idea. One looked like Lovejoy, complete with the I'm-a-gypsy-thief earring, so instead I tightly clutched my i-pod and wallet and sat back for a sleepless night.

We arrived in London about 7am, and made our way to the Underground system. Which I fucking hate when I have luggage. People don't walk round you, they walk through you or over you, its the land British manners forgot and its so expensive that I had to sell my lovely new apartment to afford tickets for the short 4 stop ride.

I attempted to descend the stairs to the platform, but had to stop and find a chiropractor to realign my spine, until, complete with a new wheelchair I came back to finish the task, and after violently fighting my way onto the train I could relax for at least 7 minutes. I seem to have caught the eye of a young lady in the next car, who kept glancing over, making eye contact then flirtaciously looking away, before looking back and smiling. This sort of attention can under any circumstances usually be considered good, except she was reading jobs today, obviously looking for a new career after her previous job, as one of those things that used to advertise Monster Munch, had ended.

After a stop or four, and a million flights of stairs we finally got to the Eurostar departure lounge at London St. Pancras'

I was expecting luxury and relaxation here, what I got was some lukewarm brown water that was supposed to be coffee and a lot of Americans. The fat and loud American tourist is another stereotype I've never believed, I have American friends. I've known Melody for, as near as makes no difference, a decade. Which scientists say is "A fucking long time" for someone you met randomly in Yahoo chat when you were 12. She is smart, fun and I love her dearly, we've stopped short of buying a cottage in Devon but you get the picture that she certainly isn't fat, loud or obnoxious. Yet again however here I was, having to accept that I'd been stupider than the son of that Welsh woman from Big Brother, who admitted to a fondness for blinking, and a blancmange.

To summarise, the Eurostar is crap. I had no leg room of any description, more than on the Megabus, but still not enough for a guy as tall as myself. There was nothing but old chewing gum in the carpet and a long series of Americans mis-pronouncing words and being generally ignorant of European customs, such as not being overweight and annoying.

The driver then addressed us;

" 'Ello Madames et Monsieurs, I am Jean-Pierre and I weeell be your driver for deese trip to Paris Nord, we 'ave an expected travelling time of two 'ours zeventeen minutes, wheech I 'ope passes as pleasantly as ze hundred years war. For our fat American friends there ees an overpriced bistro in car number 4 selling traditonal French beefburgers and for ze Engleesh pigs travelling wiz us today zere is some warm beer wheech I would be honoured to speet into for you zis morning. We shall be arriving in Paris at 11 am local and correct time, where I 'ope you all contract bird flu, unless you are French. Pleese enjoy your trip wiz us today, Merci"

So, while the American bloke next to me complained incessantly about being on a train which travels faster than the ones at home, which are overtaken by tectonic plates and people from Eastbourne, and a lack of free champagne to go with his bucket of Cola and fries which were made from the entire potato export quota of Ireland for this year. I sat back and waited for Paris.

More tomorrow..