Saturday, December 31, 2022
Hospitality Review 2022
Hospitality is a hard mistress to leave. She might break your body, your mind and have you questioning every facet of humanity, but she’s your mistress. You either enjoy the experience enough to go back, or financial circumstances (or reward as is often the case in this hyper-understaffed world) may bring you back at least momentarily. It’s like smoking – once you start smoking, you’ll never be a non-smoker. You can be an ex-smoker, but that itch will always exist somewhere.
Over the last year, I’ve pulled the odd shift at events and freelanced in an immersive theatre/escape room experience bar in London, whilst over the last month I’ve worked part time in a trendy veggie/vegan restaurant as well the oldest bar (or at least they claim to be) in Belfast’s city centre. I’ve noticed a few things about staff, customers, myself and management/ownership.
Firstly, I’m sorry to anyone who’s had to work with me. Whilst I can still be fast at times, I am still messy. I try to clean up after myself, I sometimes do a shit job of it, smash glasses, spill stuff, have a sink which bounces water in all directions all over the floor and generally have an equal and opposite reaction. Additionally, whilst I have in some ways mellowed over time, my patience hasn’t developed as much as I hoped it would. I am in some ways grumpier and have a shorter fuse, over the smallest things. I think being in my mid 30s, my back is far more tender than it used to be from standing all day and this has caused me to do more complaining than ever before and whilst I think sometimes I might have a good reason to complain, I’m also a whiney bastard. Hopefully I’m funny enough that my gripes aren’t too much of a pain in the ass for those around me.
I do have to remember why I’m doing this hospitality thing. Whilst I do like the extra coin as I try to build savings to save for a house/shoot my next indy short film, part of me thinks it's to humble myself. Having been in a few groups about ranting about how it is to be a bar/restaurant staff member, I sorta feel I have to work some shifts to stay true. I'd love to be a brand rep of a decent brand again, but that seems like a long way off now.
In the Belfast bar, I was sorta given the feeling that I’m doing the bar a favour in the busy period. This has meant that I’ve been calling the shots of when I want to work. For reasons I’ve touched on before, I hate breakdown/clean up. I’m usually too busted to be effective at it and if it’s a bar I don’t know that well, I spend about half the time asking questions like a nosey five year old. I’ve usually arranged to go home more or less when the bar closes. This kinda works for management, for the most part, but it does feel like I’m letting down the regular staff. Apologies again guys. I’m in this for pocket money and to make sure I still have a sembelance of the skills I developed off and on over the better part of a decade
Secondly, staff – most of you guys are working your bollocks off, hats off to you but here’s the thing: know your rights. I’m still hearing stories of management/owners treating you badly, including not giving you breaks, or even contracts. A bar being understaffed isn’t your fault and whilst it’s great that you’re willing to pitch in and help out for extra wages, ask yourself if doing 60-70 hour weeks is really doing you any favours long, or short term. I’ve always thought it was daft, but that’s probably why I never progressed into a management position.
Thirdly, customers haven’t been too bad this year, even with the price of drink being what it is during a cost of living crisis. Perhaps everyone has just accepted that hospitality can be a tough, exhausting gig and also everything is just fucking expensive and there’s not a damn thing that any of us can seem to do about it.
I’ve had a couple of minor disputes, even one guy give off because I told him that the bar I was singlehandedly holdng down (and that’s as a freelancer) didn’t have any Sambucca and he’d need to go next door to the other bar within the building. He was a bit whiney about the fact I wouldn’t do it myself, but I thought we were having some banter and I basically, wearing my heart on my sleeve, but with a smirk about it told him that I had two shifts left and I couldn’t give a shit. He tried to complain to a manager later on and tried to preface it with the most ridiculous faux-posh manner I’ve ever heard “I ordered, shall we say.. liquers and one of your bartenders was rudely-indifferent about them not being there.” I was in ear-shot and did explain to him why I couldn’t get the drink and that I thought he understood my sarcasm. He then did the classic “I was a bartender for ten years and I never treated anyone like a dick. You were a total dick about it.” To which I explained I’m sorry if he thought I was being a dick TO HIM. I was a dicky about it, but I thought he got the situation. He then asked “was I being a dick?”, to which I almost felt like responding “No, but you’re being a total dick now”, but my main aim was to smooth the situation over a little bit in front of the manager and get the then closed bar clean so I could go home.
Another incident happened earlier in the year when a guy telling me his life story, before ordering what I thought was four negronis and a twist on an old fashioned. It was loud and I did feel like I checked with him multiple times if I got his order right. It turned out, he had been yammering on about how he’d had four negronis that night already and just wanted the one other drink to mix it up. After some back and forth, I only charged him for the one drink, but he tried stealing one of the other negronis. He was some sort of friened with the dickhead owner, so I got the drink back off him and sold two of the negronis to a legend nearby. Later as I’m clearing the bar, this clown and his friend are trying to stick the shoulder into me as they’re walking past, but being a good half a foot shorter than me and significantly less built, I chose to ignore them as they bounced off like rubber bullets against a tank.
In both these instances, my poor communication and lack of patience were probably catalysts to the reaction. Someone smoother and more balanced would probably have prevented the bombs from going off, so we’re all dicks in this sitatuon. I do however think that there should be some sort of mandatory National Service for hospitality work and that you should be expected to do two weeks every few years to remind you that you’re not above anyone and that it’s genuinely hard graft. Maybe not as hard a graft as various other forms of manual labour, or working in care homes wiping arses, but a hard enough graft nonetheless.
Fourthly – management. Again, some good management, some bad mamagement experienced over the past year. However, one thing I’ve seen everywhere I’ve worked this year, is a general tightness. For a start pay staff what they’re worth. If you treat them right, you won’t have to waste as much time dealing with a high turnover, or see them not show up to work because they’re overworked and sick. Secondly, items like ice buckets, sweep and scoops cost nothing. Why is it that I’ve worked in multiple places where there appears to be one of these items for an entire complex of bars? It’s not only frustrating for staff to have to run around to another bar to get a brush and scoop, but it’s actually dangerous – the longer broken glass etc. is sitting around, the greater the risk of it being a hazard to someone’s health it is. Same as mops. Most bars should have a dry mop. This should save a fortune in blue roll.
Finally – brands. When will you guys learn to design glasses, particularly pint glasses that will actually stack? Guiness can do it, why do you need some long narrow awkward bastard which will shatter if it’s nudged even a bit, or can’t even be put into another glass without having to crack one of the glasses? It’s awkward and it’s not remotely useful. I’m looking at you Peroni. Bartenders have a big enough difficulty with coupes and nick and noras, they don’t need more stemmed glasses. I’m looking at you Madri. Stop being pretentious wankers. Also Diageo – what the fuck is with those bullshit Guinness 0,0% machines? What an absolute pain in the ass they are for everyone. Nobody wants to spend seven years pouring a pint, whilst the machine patronizes you about the angle of the pour. Fucking knock that shit on the head.
Hope everyone has a great 2023! That’s all.
Tuesday, December 27, 2022
Conor Charlton's Yearly Review Part 2 - Music, Fashion, Sport and The Stage
This is a continuation of this
Music
Studies suggest that after the age of 33, you tend to like less and less new music. Certainly, you don’t tend to like emerging genres. This might be the reason why “old-heads” dislike mumble rap. Over the last year, it has been my usual ecclectic mix of rock, grunge, reggae, ‘90s hip hop, synthwave, house, blues and metal. With my biggest discoveries being that one song by J-Cole you’ll find plastered over TikTok videos and German house DJ Chris Luno’s stimulating house beats which I’ve used to get the most mundane tasks done during the day jobs.
I have had the joy of seeing the following: Tool, The Specials, some bands at Desertfest (this is an ongoing joke about how I rock up every year on the last day when everyone is too hungover for bassy psychadelic metal, pay £50 for a ticket and drink to a wall of sound, or spend the entire time in a smoking area, despite not being a smoker), Tom Jones, Kings of Leon, Brass Against and a Pink Floyd Tribute Band.
My biggest win of the year has to have been seeing Tool. After eating a somewhat delicious and aromatic Rice Krispie cake, the show came to life with insane visuals and hypnotic rhythms so potent and powerful it has been rumoured to have had an effect on big-time Northern Irish house duo Bicep’s music. Whilst initially the audience were to be seated, frontman, Maynard James Keenan had his devoted followers on their feet for the duration. Had he announced he was starting a cult, I would have volunteered myself to have been his muscle. Incredible stuff. This would have been made only a little bit better if I had seen a little bit more of warm-up act, Brass Against, who I’ve adored since discovering them in 2017.
My biggest loss has to have been missing ridiculous synth-comedian Marc Rebelliet. Rebelliet was due to play in February and I had purchased two tickets for myself and my pseudo-girlfriend of the time (long story, but let’s say friend with benefits who I had attempted to “convert” into a girlfriend) as a Valentine’s weekend thing. COVID restrictions still being what they were meant that Marc postponed the gig until August, at which point pseudo-girlfriend and I were no longer a thing and the lack of email reminders from notorious cunt-corporation, Ticketmaster meant that I missed the gig entirely. I had hoped that the additional insurance Allianz Global Assistance had supposedly provided would actually be of some use, but of course these other corporate-twats will rely on you not reading small print. Who is going to go to a doctor to get evidence if they believe they have COVID? Absolute joke. Do not trust them as far as you can throw them.
Most of my music discoveries came as a result of weird remixes, this Wu-Tang remix album
Along with a Biggie Christmas album got a lot of listening. As the top comment puts it: “nothing says christmas more than "honey´s feel it deep in the placenta"
My Dad would be proud that I’m getting stuck back into one of the greatest blues legends of all time, John Lee Hooker
As for the synthwave, the bizarre, hyper-violent indy game, Hotline Miami 2 has fed into my music tastes getting a little bit weirder
There was a big loss this year with the passing of Terry Hall. I was blessed to have seen The Specials in Botanic Gardens during the Summer, which I enjoyed immensly even if it was as a result of some sort of weird THC-infused Techno Viking dancing, much to the chargrin of my buddy.
Fashion
I’ve never had a cool sense of dress, with shorts being my prefered pantalon for most of the year, and one of the many wooly jumpers I’ve been gifted by my mum to keep my core warm. It is time to accept though, that in Winter, I have become my Dad. Courdroy trousers, coupled with these wooly jumpers is exactly what he would wear, though I have enough of the jumpers that I’m not wearing the ones with holes all the time. Additionally, I am now officially the “what the fuck is that haircut” guy, as I see that weird shaved almost bare back-and-sides, but longer on-top do is like a bad Peaky Blinders Imitation. I think you can probably tell, I don’t quite follow it.
Sports
As per usual, I don’t to care that much about sports, other than combat ones. Over the last few years we’ve moved into the era of freak fights, with Youtubers calling out retired MMA fighters and boxers for some generally piss-poor fights, which have more than stanky whiff of corruption and fighters taking dives. What’s alarming is the fact these “fighters” have all decided “turning heel” and acting in the most obnoxious, dishonourable way calling each other out on social media and podcasts. Of course fighters have done this for a long time, Tyson Fury seems to alternate between bigging up and putting down his opponents as and when it suits him, all the while dodging mandatory title defences, or fighting genuine threats to losing his title. However, I have never have I seen it to the same degree, this massive staged dance to boost pay-per-view sales. Whilst Muhammad Ali and Chael Sonnen are some of the masters of it over the years, I think overall its promotes a toxicity amongst young people. The same kind of toxicity which leaks onto Call of Duty servers and has female players doxed and abused even more so than their male counterparts. Perhaps this is a gross conflation of the effects, but surely it’s all part of the same cause-and-effect pattern.
What about the good fights? Well we’re not going to mention Tyson Fury, Anthony Joshua or even Oleksandr Usyk (except to say “fair fucks to the Ukrainans for returning home, putting themselves in danger and being an active part of the war”), because some of their displays have been embarassing. Terrence Crawford’s incredible Welterweight defences have nothing but enthralling. Whilst the UFC has had a number of wild fights, ending in out-of-no-where comebacks: Leon Edwards fourth round headkick knockout was actually something I called (Well I was a round out), whilst Alex Pereira landed a similar out-of-the-blue finish of his arch-rival Israel Adesanya. Both fights have real fight of the year qualities about them, with Cyril Gane vs Tai Tuivasa not far behind. It’s been in some ways a rough year for UFC as the fighter’s pay dispute still seems far from being sorted. Fighters are underpaid compared to the amount of damage sustained, cost of camps, and healthcare, all in the context of the massive global revenue generated by the fights themselves. This has given Jake Paul more credence pushing for a fighter’s union alongside Anderson Silva. Lastly, several former fighters, all under 45 have passed, Stephan Bonnar, Rumble Johnson are amongst them. Johnson was unfortunately a victim of cancer, but in Stephan’s case, it seemed that the injuries sustained throughout his career led to him abusing opioids as a source of pain relief. This, likely combined with CTE led to some erratic behaviour in his final years. This is not dissimilar to many of the professional wrestlers who have passed early over the years.
Comedy and Theatre
I’ve tried to get the odd theatre show in there here and there, partly as some sort of “actor obligation”, sometimes to show support to my thesp comrades, other times to see if I can learn anything from seeing a live, engaged performance, but a good live theatre show can sometimes be better than a good film.
One such play was “The Wife and Me, and my Sex Doll” by Mark Kavanagh. Whilst all three performers did a great job of holding the witty, fast-paced sex romp together, Maryann Maguire and Christine Clark were particularly good at showing just how empathetic and interesting characters can be. Another was Clare Gould’s “The Gap Year”, which followed three older ladies deciding to travel around the island of Ireland, reconect and grieve lost loves. It’s a piece which saw a standing ovation from the crowd and may well get turned into an indy feature.
I’m still a comedy nerd and saw some great local shows, but Liverpool-native and main MC of Hot Water Comedy club, Paul Smith came over and did an extended set in The Waterfront at the start of the year. Doing extended bits on his DMT experiences, getting pegged and surviving the highs and lows of lockdown were a real treat. The runner up might have to be Steve Hofstetter who had a half decent show in The Empire Bar, but it was one which felt a little bit overpriced for what it was compared to other comics. The third part will finally be a review of my own efforts and figure out what I’m looking to achieve from next year.
Conor Charlton’s Yearly Review 2022 Part 1 - Intro, Politics and On-Screen Media
At this point in my life, I also feel more qualified to critique media that I’ve ever done before. However, a yearly review isn’t purely about media, though that plays a big part of it. It’s also about worldly events, the overall vibe and in my case, a review of my own life. Perhaps it’s an odd thing to review a chunk of your own life in such an arbitrary chunk of time as the supposed full cycle around the sun, but let’s face it, we’ve all said at some point “this has been a good year”, or lamented about why the year was so bad. Unless doing this makes us more content, then arguably it’s also a particularly un-stoic outlook.
On the other hand, I think that I can attempt to eschew out a better plan for 2023, in order to feel more focused and successful. Make achievable, reasonable, but still ambitious goals and this may provide a great deal more satisfaction by the end of next year. Ultimately, this review is like my own entry to a time capsule, which I may come to read again in years to come, or I’ll just bore the unfortuante soul who choses to read it.
The Political Landscape
It is very difficult to view the political landscape either global or on the Pretanic Isles (that’s the UK/Ireland) as anything less than depressing. Britain has cycled through a series of selfish and inept prime ministers, each seemingly more incomptent and self-serving than the last. Any hope of an effective left-wing opposition supportive of worker’s rights in any industry seems like a far-away fantasy. Huge swathes of the population still appear to support the likes of Boris Johnson, after years of him displaying a complete disregard for the population all because of his Trumpian “Ahhh he’s a good lad” persona. In the South of Ireland, the combined forces of Fine Gael and Fine Fail appear content to combine forces to block their most popular competition from actually taking part in government, all whilst selling off the country to American tech giants. In the North of Ireland, the minority loyalist DUP party has blocked Assembly from going ahead, in some pathetic childish throwing out the toys of the pram routine because they didn’t like the outcome of the same Brexit they pushed for. This has stopped all manner of day to day routine civil service moves from going ahead. Do we talk about France, who narrowly chose a centre-right party over a far right one? Or do we lament Italy’s decision to bring back the same party of Mussolini’s grand daughter in power? The Neo-Liberal Democrats, supposedly in charge of the US continuously fumble through their seemingly-senile president’s term, backtracking on any of their left-wing election positions, whilst handing more and more of the reins to anti-abortion Republicans.
I do think we are in bleak times, heading to a deeper and deeper climate emergency, as so many of the world’s citizens look to false prophets such as Jordan Peterson, Elon Musk and even worse – Andrew Tate. The “push-back” on “wokeness”, has seen homophobia and racism on the rise, evident particulalry on the likes of Twitter, as Musk’s “freedom of speech” platform has allowed the ghouls to emerge. It seems so easy to do too. The old game of bread and circuses was as present as ever – the Queen of England’s passing only put more eyes on the press’s favourite demons Harry and Megan. I can’t say I have much love for another couple of mega-rich, hyper-priviledged goons who appear to have played the victim card, but the constant attack on their character, whilst Royal-nonce Prince Andrew goes relatively unscathed and protected from prosecution by Mummy’s (read tax payer’s) money seem pretty unjust. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Megan’s ethnic make up could it?
Any real saving grace from any of this right-wing slide appear to come from comedians and those members of the general populace, who see the world for what it is and are able to dish out witty retorts and spicy verbal backhanders on social media platforms. It’s a thin glimmer of hope in a world disgraced Health Secretary Matt Hancock can engage in some strange psy-op/PR spin by appearing on a gameshow and eating a few insects, only to have a legion of simpleminded fans state “Ohhh he’s a really nice guy, really.”
If there’s anything that really concerns me is a lack of accurate information about the Ukraine situation. There is no doubt in my mind that Putin is a dangerous megalomaniac, but I’m not naive enough to believe that the Neo-Liberal Western expansion, including the supposedly “defensive” NATO developments are purely in the interests of the people who lie before the boarders of Russia. Propaganda might be around us at all times, but it is never more prevalent than at a time of war. We’ve been presented videos of the conflict stolen from opening videos of computer games, along with myths such as “The Ghost of Kyiv”, proven to not just be false but ridiculous too.
We will soon be in a position where we are reading AI generated political myths and undetectable deepfake videos are used to bamboozle us beyond comprehension.
TV and Film
Beyond the “Doom scroll”, or endless games of Pokemon Showdown (a browser based simulation of the battle engine in the main games), which I almost think is used to “regulate” my potential undiagnosed ADHD, TV shows and films are undoubtedly my favourite form of escapism. So much so, that I’ll even read perplexing manuals on how to write the manuscripts. So what’s been the best and what has been the worst?
The Best Top Gun Maverick
Given I’ve just ranted about self-serving right-wing dominance on the rise, it may seem odd that I have full understanding why the most dominant blockbuster of the year was none other than military-glorifying Star Wars-in-planes nonsense Top Gun: Maverick. The sequel to a poorly-aged homo-erotic propaganda piece which I was forced to watch before a casual sexual encounter twelve years ago wasn’t something I expected to enjoy. However, it’s simple storylines, charming performances from Teller, Connelly and (to a lesser extent) Cruise, well-timed emotional beats including a throat-cancer surviving Val Kilmer along with the decision to esche excessive CGI use in favour of actually flying the damn planes was something which read incredibly well on-screen. TG:M isn’t a French art-house Indy film that needs to be pulled apart and discussed for its beauty, it’s just a very fun big screen flick.
Banshees of Inisherin
From my knowledge, neither the estranged brothers Michael nor Martin MacDonagh have made a bad film and Martin’s Banshees was no exception. Whilst an argument could be made that the script could have been more economic and the cinematography whilst beautiful was occasionally a little bit self-indlugent, the witty dialogue, delivered perfectly by Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Kerry Condon and Barry Keoghan was a perfect surface for something much deeper. Arguably a mirror of Van Gogh’s life and also an allegory for the Irish Civil War which saw brother fight brother and friend kill friend, it’s classic MacDonagh examination of whether having a purpose in life actually matters is a fanatastic film for its sheer ability to stir conversation.
The Bear
I’m a big fan of restaurant/kitchen based dramas, particularly those that capture the highs and lows of the hospitality game well. Like 2021’s Boiling Point, The Bear does a great job of showing the stress, whilst giving great moment’s of satisfaction. It’s well acted, but with a slightly lacklustre ending to its first season.
The Boys S3
The Boys has been one of my favourite shows on any streaming platform since it first arrived. This anti-superhero superhero show which sees Anthony Starr give his best “what if Trump was Superman” performance, opposite Karl Urban’s brilliant but wonky-accented (to the point they literally have to write his Dad being Australian and his mum being Cockney into the show) Billy Butcher is immense fun, whilst giving visceral shocks, big laughs and a very fun plotline.
Reacher Lee Child’s pulpy novel series inspired a bunch of TV shows over the years which all centred on a kick-ass central character in the Southern states running around kicking ass. For light watching, Banshee and Justified are super enjoyable for their supply of sex, snappy dialogue and violence and for this reason, Reacher was a joy. Given how good Alan Ritchon is, I’m not even annoyed that I didn’t get past the first round of auditions.
Wu-Tang: An American Saga S2
This probably isn’t a show which would land that well with anyone who isn’t a big fan of the quintessential ‘90s hip hop squad, but for me, this season built off the good foundations laid in the first one and gave more time to the semi-fictional versions of my favourite Staten Islanders. Who would have thought a guy who co-named his production company “36 Chambers Productions”, after the Wu’s first album would love this series that much?
Licorice Pizza
I love the visual style of Paul Thomas Anderson, especially when it's set in decades gone by. Boogie Nights is one of my favourite films of all time, even if its subject is much more depraved. Licorice Pizza has great performances and plays out as a super enjoyable feel good film.
Boiling Point
Boiling Point made a huge impact on me when I watched it for its realism, insane camera workk and great performances. The fact that I've worked in a Dalston restaurant before and felt that I was a combination of the bartender who flirts with everyone and the waiter/actor who was late due to an audition rang pretty true. I think it's a film which will have made a big impact on indy dramas to come.
Nightride
Nightride is another one-taker indy feature that was filmed entirely in Belfast. Much like Locke, it surrounds a central character trying to make sure things go to plan by having a series of stressful phone calls. Having spoken to a couple of members of the crew, I found out that the scene where the character is stopped by police wasn't intended to part of the script, they were actually stopped by the police and the lead actor had to improvise. The cops themselves are real and had to have their faces blurred out from the film, giving it quite a surreal quality.
Andor
A slow burning anarcho-communist manifesto which proves that Star Wars isn’t just for kids. Whilst it arguably took a long time to heat up, the characterization and attention to detail was unparalleled in any Sci-fi show that I’ve seen in a long time. It’s eventual pay off was exactly what fans of one of the best entries into the entire franchise needed.
Mid Tier Tyson
This unauthorized biopic show of the legendary and notorious heavyweight champion was extremely watchable, but parts of it didn’t seem to sit particularly right with me, particularly the handling of the rape case, which whilst it attempted to give the due respect to Tyson’s victim, was arguably a bit rushed and lacking.
Obi-Wan
Another entry into the Star Wars mythos, the show allowed Ewan McGregor to reprise his role as the troubled Jedi master and give a compelling portrayal. It also had moments where it showed Darth Vader to be the truly horrifying villain that he really is. Unfortunately, it faltered in a few areas – lightsabers not doing what they’re supposed to do, an irritating child character and a series of scenes which only appeared to cause plotholes within the original and best sci-fantasy trilogy. Its end battle was the most emotionally charged and somehow moving show yet.
SAS: Rogue Heroes
Peaky Blinders showrunner Steven Knight has a WWII romp not too far from the vein of Peaky. It's fine. Mildly entertaining at times. I'm just irked and made jealous that mad alcoholic Northern Irish Nazi-puncher, Blair "Paddy" Mayne was played by middle-Englander Jack O'Connell. Whilst O'Connell was presumably selected because of his name and existing portfolio of work, there are literally dozens of Northern Irish actors who I think would have done a superb job. Again, Jacky-boy isn't terrible, but at times he felt like was giving a Tom Hardy-lite performance and his accent wasn't exactly crisp. Particularly as Mayne would probably have had that North Down '40s Trans-Atlantic affection more akin to posh English than the hardman East Belfast twang given. O'Connell is also in the bad books of a good Derby-based mate of mine, for having a bunch of racist mates, so that's always in the back of my mind when watching him.
The Bad The Entire MCU
I’ve been a fan of Marvel comics since seeing a dreadful but enjoyable made-for-TV Captain America film in the early ‘90s. It was a devotion which was further solidified by the animated X-Men and Spider-men shows and finally the live action franchise starting with the experimental 2008 hit, Iron Man. Alas, after 30 odd films, and half a dozen live-action TV shows, the excitement of the MCU is fading rapidly. In some ways, it’s to be expected. Comics themselves have had 80 years of characters being imagined, reimagined and ret-conned in and out of existence ad nauseum. At some point the films would have to do the same and whilst Guardians of the Galaxy had turned lesser-known characters into massive hits, the attempt to do the same with a bundle of new characters, alternative versions and Z-list characters has not been a great success.
Since Avengers: Endgame, only Shang-Chi and Spider-man: No Way Home have been particularly good. For me, NWH was phenomenal, but this has been much more to do with unadulterated fan-service, which nearly had me choke up with tears on three separate occasions. Shang-Chi did a great job of mixing the superhero genre with comedy and classic Hong Kong-style martial arts action. Thor 4, Doc Strange 2, Black Panther 2 have all had moments, but ultimately fallen flat due to poor plotting, dialogue and the decision to undermine any moment of real threat with cringe-inducing comedy. It’s a problem which was also seen in several of the Disney Plus TV shows, further speared by lack of congruity between titles. Anything exciting about Wandavision was quickly undermined by DS:MOM for instance.
At times, the shows seemed rushed and in the case of She Hulk, I am genuinely baffled how they managed to spend $25 M an episode on mediocrity. Again, this show had potential, but felt rushed at times and whilst the ending was ripped straight out of the comics, felt deeply unsatisfying, so much so that I found myself angered to be agreeing with the whining alt-right incel snowflakes. It is worth remembering though, that not everything has to be made to suit a cis-gendered middle class white male. She-Hulk is supposedly made by women for women, but I'm slightly dubious how many women are really enjoying it. It's not without its fans, but if there's ever a show to polarize the MCU fanbase, it's one of them. Ultimately, what is going to make the MCU lose any real importance is that now the universal threat of Thanos has been dealt with, it’s going to be difficult to build a villain up to be as scary or dangerous. Whilst I can see a good attempt being made at Kang played by the great Jonathan Majors being built up, knowing that characters can be “resurrected” by dragging out alternative timeline versions from the multiverse will undermine any danger of them being killed or lost.
Not to mention, putting the most powerful artifacts in the universe into a drawer like they are cheap souvenirs means we’re just waiting for a new macguffin or series of macguffins to be brought out and paraded in front of the audience as a deus ex machina device.
Peaky Blinders S6
Whilst there have been years that I've enjoyed the style-over-substance British gangster period piece, this season was particularly poor. The lack of the late great Helen McCrory showed how one-dimensional the show really is. I'm not sure why we've not seen more parodies of its "slow motion walking to indy music in front of industrial backgdrops", drawn-out-staring-quietly-whilst-smoking shots and over-the-top yelling is something often deserving of ridicule and this season was no different. The most poignant moments were of course the ones featuring the incredible Stephen Graham, who would probably steal the show from virtually any actor on the planet.
Purple Hearts
I am as baffled as you are as to why I watched this cheesy propaganda-piece romcom. Even more baffled as to why I watched it than as to why I watched Top Gun. It’s a paper thin plot led by two leads who can act but never really seem to properly connect. Left wing, vs Right wing, but hey.. AMERICA! Part two is going to be about music, fashion and I’ll start digging into my own wins and losses. Part two about music, fashion, the stage and sport is here
Tuesday, November 29, 2022
Creative Interview with Conor Charlton
Interview with Gordon Ryan
Restaurant Review Sites
The History of Muay Thai
Cocktail Garnishes
Saturday, June 25, 2022
Ration Week Challenge (trigger warning: crude humour)
Ration Week Challenge (trigger warning: crude humour)
I’ve got a little bit of a habit of taking on dumb
challenges. These usually involve
restricting one’s diet, or daily habits.
Unfortunately, for the most part I fail horribly at these challenges.
In 2016, I took on the Sober October challenge, where the challengers
have to give up drinking for a month to raise money for Macmillan Cancer
charity, but I upped the ante. If I
raised £50, I’d also give up chocolate, £100, I’d give up meat, £150 go full vegan,
£200, I’d also throw in.. masturbation. I
started it only weeks into living in London and had no idea how hard going
vegan was. Even the larger Sainsbury’s
in North London didn’t have any vegan ready meals, their “free from” line
typically had lactose powder or egg in some or another.
I lasted about 3 weeks in and was purchased a “Golden Ticket”,
this meant a night off the challenge, which I then took advantage of, indulging
in a lamb curry, a rake of beer and was relieved of my burdening balls. Not through a hand shandy, but well it’s
amazing how charming you can find yourself when your centre of gravity is
progressively lowered and you have a few beers in the hatch. After this point, I kept finding myself
purchasing tickets to enjoy a whole rake of forbidden fruits. Surprising the m-word was the last thing I
enjoyed in any respect.
Ration Week
This year, I took on Concern’s Ration Week Challenge, where
participants have to subsist on the same ration package that a Syrian refugee
has to live on. This meant the following:
·
1.5 kg of rice
·
80g of chickpeas
·
200g of red lentils
·
1 tin of kidney beans
·
1 tin of sardines
·
400g of flour
·
5 different spices
·
10 teabags
·
1 clove of garlic
To incentivize participants being pushier with their sponsorship
drive, certain rewards can be unlocked for hitting milestones of sponsorship
levels – a certain amount of protein, vegetables, a tin of tomatoes, milk, etc.
all come into the equation. Certain amounts
on certain days might give you a teaspoon of honey, or coffee. I wasn’t a big fan of this side of the
challenge. Whilst I’m glad that I raised
about £230 for a charity with relatively low admin/marketing/operational costs
declared, I think expecting people to donate more in the middle of a cost-of-living
crisis means that the rewards are for those with more affluent friends.
The Week Itself
As you can probably tell though, whether they earn the rewards
or not, someone who has an active lifestyle and is used to having a lot of fruit,
bread and meat in their diet is probably going to struggle. Perhaps as a consequence I cheated, multiple
times.
The ration packs are barely enough for those refugees who aren’t
constantly moving, as a result of being “kept” in camps or some substandard housing. Their energy requirements are fairly low and
they are somewhat likely to cook together in the shared accommodation. Other refugees would be likely to have it far
worse - having to do insanely dangerous journeys, crossing boarders, getting on
cramped boats and risking their lives facing off against the authorities and harsh
conditions. You only have to do a Google
or YouTube search to see how horrendous the conditions are. What these people may have may be even scarcer.
So in that respect, I felt pretty bad cheating. The week was designed to get an idea of how
rough it could be without the middle class first world privilege many of us
have and yet.. this skinny-fatboy dropped the ball multiple times.
If truth be told, I was unsure of how committed I’d be from
the get-go. Rather than start it on
Sunday morning, I started it from about 5.30 PM on the Saturday, with the
intention of ending it 8 PM the following Saturday. That meant I could load up on a massive
burrito bowl, beer and little cheese and ham crackers. Sunday came along and I mostly ate rice,
though blew my bean allowance that evening when I went to a local Tex Mex place
called Boojum, had a a bowl of rice and beans.
Eating food from restaurants, canteens and cafes was
allowed, if the meals contained only the ingredients you had from the rations. This meant, whilst the burrito bowl was a
slight stretch as I had a small amount of hot sauce on top, it was “legal”
within the “ruleset”. Same as the lentil
soup which I ate several days from the work canteen. Or at least, I think it was because I don’t
know what was in it despite lentils – possibly tomatoes, or onions and I hadn’t
“earned” my vegetable allowance because my friends have financial commitments
beyond boosting my ego on a frivolous dietary-based charity challenge.
So for Sunday through to about Wednesday morning, I ate
rice, lentil soup, more rice, rice and beans, the worst ever falafels ever made
from the 80g of chickpeas and a few bits of flatbread, by basically mixing flour
and water.
Wednesday morning came and I had what is referred to as a “head
fog”. Something that almost all
participants experience. Whether this
was from a calorie deficit, lower than usually expected caffeine level, or a
lack of nutrients is unclear, but I felt rough.
There was a guy on the Facebook group for the challenge who was encouraged
to pack it in as he had a physical job and had fainted on it. I myself had a bit of Street Theatre to work,
essentially storytelling facts about Belfast’s martime history. I dropped two lines. Hard.
Stared confused, like a rabbit in the headlights and had my fellow actor
pull me out of the quagmire I found myself in.
I did recover and after the first minute or so belted the rest of it out
strongly, but I was gutted of how bad that went. Drama within drama.
A free breakfast – sausage rolls, beautiful brioche bun
bacon butties, coffee and shortbread were on offer. I couldn’t refuse. I comfort ate and felt simultaneously worse
and better for doing so. I went back to
work and then in the evening, I went to a producers networking event. I stuffed myself with more free food.
Thursday and Friday morning meant free breakfast and milky coffee
in work. I wasn’t passing it down. After all, the rest of the day, I had rice to
subsist on. Or more lentil soup with no
bread. In fairness, I still managed to
train Muay Thai once on Thursday, then twice on Friday, but by then, my energy
levels had essentially been rejuvenated to having a calorie allowance somewhat closer
to my usual intake. Even though, the Friday
sparring session was a bit closer to boxing Eeyore, than Tigger.
Today (Saturday) I’ve cheated again. Starting the day with a mocha. I then ate rice, kidney beans and a pancake
made using the aquafaba of the kidney bean can, along with of course water, flour
and (cheating again) an egg. A teaspoon
of honey that I hadn’t “earned”, made it great.
I’ll probably not eat again until dinner tonight. This is largely because if I’m sticking
anywhere close the rules, all I have left to eat is rice and maybe a tiny
portion of lentils. Some participants have
“given” m their “allowance”, because they either didn’t like lentils, or eat
less in general. The idea is that refugees
share and some family members eat less than others as they do everywhere. Like I found with the vegan side of doing Sober
October, meal prep is a little bit boring and irritating, so if you’ve not done
a dry run of some of the dishes before the challenge began, you may not be
bothered or have the energy to make a mess of a kitchen during the challenge
itself. Consequently, you virtually end
up fasting a good portion of the time.
Or at least, you learn to stop unnecessarily snacking.
Roll on dinner tonight, although every good restaurant that
does “European” dishes appeared to be booked out and we’ve gone for a well-respected
Indian establishment. I love Indian food, but being that the main carb staple
is rice, I would have preferred somewhere with chips, spuds, or pasta on this
occasion. I’ll be so glad to see other
carbs, meat and SAUCE that if my mother wasn’t there, there’d be a real danger
of me using the peshwari naan as a fleshlight under the table. Almondy, coconut goodness for all.
Take Aways
I love food. It’s one
of my favourite things in the world, but as someone who knows they may need to
have a more “aesthetically pleasing” body – i.e. hint of an ab or two, I’ve
been aware that I may need to change my diet up, especially as I drift past my
mid 30s towards my middle aged years.
Additionally, if I ever want to get those bucket list MMA/Muay Thai fights,
I would ideally fight at a weight 10-15 kg less than my usual walking weight of
92-95 kg. Getting in the habit of diet
restriction in advance of that will be beneficial in knowing what to expect.
Having dabbled with this, I will look to make more
vegetarian and vegan dishes. I typically
consume meat at an unhealthy amount, sometimes as much as 3-4 times a day, past
the point where the protein is beneficial and towards the point that it’s probably
clogging arteries and quickly turning into fat.
I may try ration week again, or look to experiment with food
a bit more. It was very impressive seeing
what people taking the challenge made with what little ingredients they
had. There are some real MacGuyver home-chefs
out there. If I do try it again, I may give
myself the full rewards from the start, rather than trying to stick to the “sponsor
me” bonus system Concern try to push. This
might make me a bit more compliant overall.
Even if I can justify “Refugees probably wouldn’t turn down free food”, it
is still slightly defeating of whatever purpose I can instil upon the
challenge. Ultimately though, to quote a
one-time Family Guy character, “I play by nobody’s rules by my own, and
sometimes not even those.”
Lastly, despite the guilt of failing/cheating, I am obviously
have a slightly larger glimpse of what it is like for those who have only
limited amounts of food. Whilst short of
the war in Ukraine turning into WWIII, full blown climate change, or the
apparently maniacal oligarchs pushing late-stage capitalism onto all of us
several levels worse than they already are, I am unlikely in my lifetime to experience
hunger, or starvation to the extent that refugees do, or even some of the
poorest in our society. Whilst the “check
your privilege” trend which emerged in online discussion a few years ago was
often irritating and cringe-inducing to even those of us whose political opinions
are largely on the left, I have another moment where I must accept with gratitude
the privilege which I have. This might
mean I aim to give a little bit more towards those that I think need it most,
or I’ll feel more justified in my constant shitting on the established elite. I just hope it doesn’t make me any more
insufferable than I likely already am.
Thursday, February 24, 2022
The I'm back on Facebook again post, 24 02 2022
FINALLY BIG NASTY HAS RETURNED TO..