Due ta tightwaddery on da bandwidf front I's movin' da blog ta here... Audley's New Home.

I's outta here!

Aud.

First music. Pretty tuff dis cos to be honest much of da stuff released last year dat I experience were not really worf notin' an' dat wot I did listen to din't hold my attention for too long. So mostly I spents 2010 re-discoverin' lots o' early 70's german bands like Faust, Harmonia, Agitiation Free an' Cluster an' da like, which dough I coulds talk about dis A LOT don'ts really fit into a review of music of 2010. So bear dis in mind before ye start wailin' an' goin' "wots about "Hector an da Goat People's epic indie/Crunkclash rap odyssey" or wotever. It coulds be da best album I never heards, but since I never heards it I ain't commentin'.

First, disappointments. "Congratulations" by MGMT. Lotsa people loved MGMT in 2009 an' went out an bought "Oracular Spectacular" on da back o' da singles only ta finds dat dey liked da first half o' da album, but nots da psychedelic druggy second side. Personally I never understoods dat until dis album which has a few good tunes on it but the rubbish tunes are so poor dat it's not one for da ears.

Also Deerhunter's album never did much for me, I still prefer Atlas sounds 2009 "Logos".

Anyway.. top five. It's been tuff but.

At Five.
Julian Lynch "Mare"

Dis to me sounds like Bon Iver remixed by Kevin Shields o' My Bloody Valentine fame. On second foughts it's also a bit like Syd Barrett's solo stuff flung in for good measure. A weird little album dat is quite hards ta label but best described as evokin' comin' down gently wif friends in da garden as da sun rises as if for da first time.

Four
Morning Benders "Big Echo"
I loves dis album, I listen to it constantly. Tragically ignored by many people cos it's not radically ground breakin' enuff to be hip nor a retro eighties cheez-pop spectacular dat has polluted da year. Simply a great album filled with great songs which dose in da know has taken into dere heart an' will plays it for years. I reckon dis album, ignored dis year, will in da future become a classic.

Three
Everything Everything "Man Alive"
Indie Darlings o' da music press who shot dere loads abouts dem too soon an' da backlash hit just in time for dis release. I can see whys to be honest. Dis weren't wot dey was expectin'. I don't fink anyone would have expected dis, but wif dat saids, one has to admire da courage of attemptin' ta frow everyfin (EVERYFIN!) at yer listener from acapella operatic shenanigans through to retro-eighties cheezpop jazz and' heavy rock, sometimes all at once. Anudder strange album, but one dat seems to critique da future from now. Interesting an' wif some great songs an' a welf o talent. I can't recommends it. But I loves it.

Two.
Gorillaz. "Plastic Beach"
Anudder fing dat shouldn't works but does, gloriously. Our favourite cartoon heroes are back with an album dat is boaf soaked wif tragedy and optimism an' an ecological message
wifout bein' preachy. Evidence dat while Albarn an' Hewlett mights be sick to da back teeth o' da concept, it's still da best fing eidder of dem has ever done, increasin'ly so.

One.
Beach House. "Teen Dream"
As I saids earlier dis year, I has no idea why I enjoy dis album so much, but I do. I still do. It's just a bunch o' straightforward lush songs, somewhat twee, somewhat excitin' but always excellent. Definitely me ablum o' da year.

Games.

To be honest I only played Left 4 Dead 2, Bayonetta an' World o' Warcraft. so since Bayonetta is da only game from 2010, it wins da number one spot. Congratulations!

Da Ends.

Rights before we go any furder let's get one fing straight. Inception is not worvy of bein' a movie o' da year. Is we really suggestin' dat a lacklustre an' frankly stoopid plot which has wot 3 levels is an intelligent and complex "clever" blockbuster? It is not! I wos gonna write a big rant about dis in a separate review but frankly it don't deserve one.

If ye enjoyed Inception an' finks "ooooh weren't it deep" scroll down past dis bit or better still, stop wotchin' reality T.V shows an' bangin yer head wif an iron bar, it's givin' ye brain damage. I knows ye monkeys ain't particularly bright, but even my cat Doofles sighed at da end of Inception an' shook its head an spewed up on me carpet in disgust (I say dis, buts I never witnessed it do so, it might just be a bits of mouldy mozzarella from a horrible pizza I hads back in August.)

So why Inception isn't very good. First of all da overt plot of da movie is dat da characters can enter dreams an' make changes in da conciousness of da dreamer using some ill explained convoluted nonsense involvin' constructin' dream architecture an' den runnin' abouts it shootin' aspects of da dreamer (which tends to act like some kind of psychic immune system) wif guns. Dese guys acts like suicide bomber bulls in da works most delicate china shop, just da sorts o' people ye'd trust to do such intricate subtle psychic espionage if ye was a Yahwehsaryan gun loon.

Anyway dey gets a job in which dey has to implant a suggestion deep in da subconciousness of an' individual dis is where da title comes from. Dis "inception" is of course really tuff an' so dey gets a team togedder to perform dis needlessly convoluted an' frankly pointless exercise. As anyone wif da slightest grasp o' understandin' da human mind coulds o' told ye, all o' dis coulds be dones, rights now, ta anyones, wifout such extreme measures. Dey shoulda just got Derren Brown ta do it.

But No! Insteads wot we get is some fankly nice special effects, lots o' shootin' an' a frankly pretentious extrapolation on da nature of reality (on par wif da simplicity o da Matrix) in which Lenny D is stuggling wif da memory o' his dead wife who keeps manifestin' to scroo him up cos dey decided to live long terms in a dream world an' havin' to face mundanity she tops herself an' he blames himself.

In short Lenny D has went bananas cos of mad dead wife. Funnily da same fing happens in Shutter Island also startin' Lenny D, in which he's subject to a mind alterin' psychodrama to try an' cure him after he kills his mad wife who kills dere children. It weren't much better dan dis, but it were a bit more sophisticated.

Back to Inception. Everyfin wins an' we ends wif an' ambiguous is he isn't he still dreamin' By dis point I was finkin' who da fug cares?

I likes Christopher Nolan, I like dat he tries to inject somefin more dan dullard ideas into his movies, but dis was pish.

ANYWAY!!!!

Top Five.

Straight in at Five.

"Buried"

While quite implausible an' in points actively makin' ye shout at da screen "how stoopid is ye?!!" Buried does wot it sets outs ta do. A man (Ryan Reynolds) kidnapped by Iraqi insurgents is buried in a coffin wif a mobile phone an' held ta ransom in a race against time. Now frankly when I saw Van Wilder, I did fink dat buryin' Ryan Reynolds alive might be a humanitarian acts, but he's redeemed himself since den. Set entirely in da coffin wif him alone (I bet he LOVED dat!) as he struggles wif da uncarin' bureaucracy dat sents him dere as well as da brutal criminals who wants him ta make a ransom video, we begins ta see da point o dis movie. His character is a cipher, it's not about him really, it's about how modern communications is leavin' ye monkeys more, not less detached from each udder.  His imprisonment in da coffin is a literal an extreme metaphor for how ye is are cuttin' yerselves off from each udder and how in turn human life an da outside world (entirely missin' from dis movie) is increasin'ly devalued. Not to mention dat it's quite a good friller wif a bold if not a bit predictable endin' given da subject matter. (Yes I is a clever!)

Four.

"Exit Through the Gift Shop"

If ye haven't heard o' Banksy dat's your problem. Purportedly a documentary about da elusive "street artist" it soon turns into a documentary about an obsessive film maker who follows "street artists" around an' films dem as dey do dere works, who makes such an incomprehensible mess of his documentary about "street artists" dat he becomes one himself calls himself Mr Brainwash an gets his contacts to hype him up for his big Los Angeles show where all da fools by his rubbish stuff. Still wot we actually gets is up for debate dough I guess da main point is dat age old question "what is art" which was also examined in a similar way by Orson Welles in F For Fake.

So far dere is 2 skools of fought. One is dat Banksy and his co-conspirator Shepard Fairey essentially created dis movie to ambigiously reveal how dey groomed Mr Brainwash to sell substandard crap to an' idiotic public and da udder is dat it's all real an' da public are idiots.
Can't argue wif any o' dat. Whomever da jokes on, it's a good one.



Three

"Restrepo."
Anudder documentary (I told ye I wos a Clever). Dis one about young men who is hired guns for an aggressive Superpower. Dese invaders is fightin' frankly psychotic pig ignorant assholes dat probably deserve ta dies, but bein' dat da superpower has continually made a mess o' every fight it's ever been in, dey ends up havin' not only to fight pig ignorant assholes, but pig ignorant locals too. Set on a hill in da middle of Nowheres, Afghanistan, dese hired guns is under extreme conditions, as dey try an' gets rid of da pig ignorant assholes who has decided dat dis is where dey draw da line.Under almost constant fire, alone an' under life freatenin' duress, we see somfin' dat Hollywood movies like da Hurt Locker attempt but ultimately fail to address (and society increasin'ly seems to as well) which is dat dese hired guns, placed in such an extreme situation forgo da frivolities of da sickenin' princely ego driven culture dey has left behind an' instead become utterly reliant on each udder. They no longer are individuals, dey are a unit, dey define each udder, are vital an necessary to each udder and dare I say it love each udder. Not in a bumfoolery way (dough maybe now DADT is out da way dey can gets on wif a bit o dat if dey feel so inclined) but in a way that is utterly missin' from life back home.

In a deeply harrowin' scene when one of dere number dies, we don't see a Hollywood version where everyone gets angry and swears revengeance, no, what we see is men, grown men, stunned, in total shock, crying and howling at da loss.

For dat scene alone it's worf yer eye time, but da nervous and nihilistic post match interviews interspersed frough dese scenes of intensity increase da volume of da entire fing.

Two.
The Last Exorcism.

Anudder documentary. A false one (perhaps like Exit frough da Gift Shop) which people claim is a horror movie, but really except for the fantastic 1970's Satan Movie endin' is more a movie about lack of faith versus fundamental belief, dough (agains like Exit frough da Gift Shop), we cannot fully accept dat wot we is seein' is even meant ta be a documentary in da first place. Essentially a tale about a disillusioned pastor who considers dat religion rests in da power o' drama an' as such "performs" exorcisms for gullible Jehovah cultists for cash. We learn quickly about his interests in magic (as in pick a card not as in sacrificin' goats an' talkin ta da likes o me) an' film-makin' as he explains how he is goin' ta show da documentary crew just wot it is his fake exorcisms entail. He doesn't see himself as a conman dough because he considers dat while da service he performs is fake, it benefits da witless fools dat asks for it in da first place.

So, he goes to da house of dis Fundamentalist dude who's daughter has been gettin' up at night an' guttin' his animals where he performs his fake exorcism an' leaves wif da cash.

Den fings get really really bad.

I'll give no more away save ta say, pay attention an' fink about wot's goin' on an da plot, which isn't complex, but clever in a way Inception so desperately tries to be an utterly fails to.

One.
Kick Ass.

I laffed an' laffed an' laffed. One o da stoopidest, entertainin' most outrageously violent offerin's from mainstream cinema since Kill Bill. In a medium which is constantly tryin' to make serious and legitimise da ridiculous concept dat people who had superpowers would become vigilantes in stoopid costumes, Kick Ass pokes fun at da entire medium. Den pokes some more, den pokes a big bleedin' hole frough it an' tells it to go fuck itself. While it is a bit "annoyin' teen" dat I complained about in last blogs w/r to Misfits, Just see this, it's a riot. A kid decides ta becomes a superhero an' is shit at it but neverdaless gets accidently caught up wif psychotic vigilantes and brutal organised criminals. It's great!



NEXT. Games and Music.

Befores we gets started, a word from da Webster.

Hi folks. 2010 started off well, went downhill and eventually plummeted into a chasm of electrified razorwire. Still it's 2011 and I'm feeling pretty positive (and well now) despite my grandfather still struggling between life and death in a medically bewildering state where his staved, sepsis addled body refuses to stop even though he wishes to pass on. It's given me a lot to think about with regards to the ape has a couple of hundred thousand years of history and an even longer lineage and the modern human has only been kicking about for about ten thousand at best and has no precedent. Many people think that the "self" is the captain of the ship but in this case it seems to have been limited to captive passenger.

Anyway... Audley advises me that the reason this blog contained little but my apologies for my tardiness and problems over the last year is that "2010 wos rubbish, ye monkeys better raise yer games dis year!"

Now over to her for her review of the year...

Cheers.

Webster.

SLACKER!!!!! It's always sumfin wif dat ones. It's dat times o' year (I woulds have done dis earlier but Da Webster got dat swine flu I accidently caked up awhiles back an I weren'ts facin' dat demon piggy agains) where I reviews da very best media stuffs o' 2010.

Surpisin'ly da best seems ta have come from T.V. From da nonsensical Cheezy suckfest of True Blood wif its Faires Vampire supremacists and blood addicted Nazi werewolves, frough to da epic epicness of Boardwalk Empire, dere were a lot o' good shows dis year. Here is me top 5.

At Five...

Sons Of Anarchy. While dis was probably da worst season o' dis butch gun runnin' biker extravaganza it still had much goin' for it. Da lame paddyfication of da Feem tune lets it down almost as much as Titus Welliver's Van Dyke style Oirish accent, but dis was more dan made up for by Ron Perlman and Katey Sagal's phenomenal actin' as well as some fine comedy moments from Kim Coates' "Tig". A show better watched in a couple o' sittin's radder dan weekly, it still delivered da goods and promised a lot more for next season.

FOUR.
Misfits. By all rights no one apart from simpletons should like dis show. Smart arsed wisecrackin' teenage/20 somefin bufoonery is very popular at da moment from Inbetweeners to da downright Autistic Spectrum disordered Big Bang Feory. Normally I'd say draft em, put dem in some camo's an' fling dems at da Taliban! However I changed me mind slightly after watchin' dis. Essentially it's a bunch o' anti-social tosspots who chose to abandon any pretence at self betterment in da pursuit o' "cool" an' ended up takin' dat to it's logical ASBO wieldin' extreme as a bunch o' stoopid criminals doin' community service an' getting superpowers for some reason. In udder words utter rubbish. It should not work. Dey is all annoyin' gits, but somehow dat's da beauty of dis show. If it had been made across da ocean in dat Banana Republic called America, dey would all be handsome an' charmin' an a little bit risky, but it weren't. It were made in da U.K. wif a budget o' fifty pence and dey is all unlovable scum. Strangely dough it does work, it never considers itself more dan rubbish an' somehow because o' dis transcends it. Dere superpowers are pretty straight forward but really da show is more about dem just bein' wankers.

THREE.
Boardwalk Empire.

Andudder HBO Gangsta show see... dis time dey've went back to da source material see... Prohibition kicks off an' suddenly we is followin' da deeply corrupt an' pitiful Nucky Thomson (Steve Buscemi) as he and his Repugnicant chums join forces wif criminals to keep da hooch rollin' into Atlantic City. Filled wif nudity, madness, serious bloody violence top notch swearin', costumes and sets which looks like dey were responsible for da near collapse of Greece, Ireland and Portugal as well as some of da best actin' on T.V. dis is anudder shinin' beacon in HBO's catalogue. Watch it.

TWO.
Breaking Bad.

I cannot recommend dis show highly enuff. So I won't but to says dat if ye don't watch dis show ye is missin' somfin dat in my opinion pisses all over Da Wire, which itself was one of da best fings ever made. Still if ye isn't watchin' it, dere's probably no hope for ye.

ONE.
The Venture Brothers.

(takes a deep breath) Remember when Da Simpsons was good? I mean when you would watch its an' say I can't believe how funny dis is, how clever it is, how daring it is? Remember? Sometime before Bush got into power and dey neutered da writers in da second biggest act of cultural terrorism after Shock and Awe? Remember? Before dey decided ta add 20% schmaltz ta every episode an' make da main focus da self empowerment o' Lisa Simpson? Well da last season o Da Venture Brothers reminded me o' that. Sure it's very much a niche show, if ye don't get superheroes ye may well not likes it, but to dose wif even a modicum of knowledge abouts da field should find lots ta love. Jackson Publick an Doc Hammer have made sumfin wonderful here.

While primarily a show about two junior action heroes (sort of like Johnny Quest) what dis show does is subvert dat idea by making it about self delusion, disappointment and above all failure. Da characters are rich, an whereas prior to last season it was almost all epically stoopid tomfoolery wot we has now is a kind of epically stoopid comedy soap opera in which da superheroes are normal everyday humans, wif dere weaknesses and neuroses, arrogance an' self denial. People used to talks about Watchmen as da best example o' dis. But dat's old hat an' is cold an' detached compared to The Venture Brothers.

I remains in awe.

Coming up next... Top 5 movies.

Hi folks. Webster here.

It's been one thing after another this year trying to get on top of me. The recent illness of and uncertainty with regards to my grandfather has been the cherry on the cake. So considering that, and that this Saturday coming is my Fortieth birthday and considering Lady W has taken the rest of the week off and considering some friends of mine are up visiting, I'm taking the week off.

Audley will return on the 15th of November at which point I hope to get back to my regular output of 4/5 pages a week on both the comic and  weekly updates of this Blog.

I know some of you are still out there reading, my apologies. I just need to decompress from everything.

I'll make it worth your while soon. Promise.

Cheers.

Da Webster.

Hello folks, it's Webster here. I've been ordered by Miss Strange to let you know that there will be no updates to the site over the next week or so, because, well, I broke my scanner by accidentally stumbling, standing on it, smashing the glass and killing the thing. No I wasn't drunk, I don't really drink, I was just careless.

Pity really. Anyway Normal service will be resumed as soon as financially possible, which means probably not until at least the 20th of the month. However I'll keep doing the work and that way when I do buy a new one there can be a big update.

As for the rate of pages recently, well I decided to try and up my game in terms of page quality rather than quantity. So I've been attempting to get better at my actual drawing again, which personally I think is beginning to show. There are 2 reasons for this, the first is that I was getting comfortable with my style and though I'd see how much I could improve and the second is because after this storyline and canto five (which will be quite short), and another hypocryphal tale, I will be attempting a graphic novel which while related to the story as a whole can stand separately on it's own. This will be called "The Flesh Made Word" and is in essence Niré Yehezatu's origin story, which I'm hoping will be of some merit which may encourage people to shell out cash for.

Anyway, check back after the 20th of September, until then, nothing to see here.

Howdy.

So Da Wrongest Day has started an' ye mightsa noticed some changes to da main site. Dere's still more works ta be dones includin' Da Soror's who's demanded dere own page after dey mades an agreement wif da First Satanic Church o' Christ maintain da site after President Evil gots arrested by da Nocturns Inquisition. So expect some crazy nonsense from dem witches soon. (Webster conceded to dis after much complaint an' a visit by Nire' ((which will be depicted in due course)) which did not go wells for him.)

Also ye'll have seen a neophytes link which ain't as yet workin' dats cos it's not finished obviously, but when done it will be a summary of da site an' all dat's gone before an stuff.

Da Wrongsest Day is gonna be a long ones an' Webster gives his 'pologies for it's current infrequency. He claims it's cos he is working hard on da art an' is still a bit stiff after his holidays but give us his "assurances" (we all knows how much dey is worf) dat he will gets up ta speed soon an' keep a goin' until well inta next year wif dis one.

Off ta eat cakes.

Aud.

Okay so's it's been a long times. So wots Audley been up to ye asks. Well mostly I's been playin' Super Street Fighter 4 an' catchin' up wif T.V and movies oh an' smugglin' meself along wif Da Webster's on dere annual holiday. Lotsa catchin' up den.

First. Let's gets onta da music. 3 albums of note so far dis years. Da first one is Beach House's "Teen Dream". Now, dis kinda dream pop duo isn't da sorts o' fing dat I woulds normally tolerate let alone listen to, but since everyone seems ta be hypnotised by da evil marketin' forces dat has propelled Lady Blah Blah inta hyperfame, despite her soundin' like a really dull 80's has been (I'm finkin' like Taylor Dane an' da likes), Teen Dream is refreshing. Can't explains why I like it I just does.

Second is Big Echo by Mornin' Benders. Dis is a lusciously produced set of well constructed songs most of which ye can finds on youtubes. Da production is much better than the spastic Stock Aitken and Watermanesque nonsense currently saturatin' da charts fanks to Lady Bah Bah an' her stoopid rubbish an' ridiculous clothin'. I swear she dresses like some badly programmed replicant day-glo version of Marilyn Manson. So Big Echo is just a set of good songs by a good band, no posturin' or public relation ejaculate here. Checks it out.

Da last Album is Plastic Beach by Da Gorillaz. More of an ensemble effort dan da past two, it ain't as instantly as accessible but it's crafted well an' has some stand out guests like Mark E Smith-ah from Da Fall-ah an' da lovely voice of Yukimi Nagano of Little Dragon, not ta mention da Boss Dogg Snoop. It's often downbeat but anudder winner from da Cartoon Cadre who funnily enuff is still more realistic dan dat badly drawn, tone deaf madonnawannabe Lady Ha Ha, whom I doesn't like much.

Okays. Games. Well last we spaketh I was kickin' frough Mass Effect 2. Since den I's been playing a lots of  SSF4 !!!Haadookin!!!!. Wot's a great game. Granted it's tuff an' I has a blister da size of da brain tumour dat is Max Clifford on me fumb, but slowly after monfs of trainin' I'm getting quite poor. Which is a huge leap from da level of utter total rubbish dat I was for da first monf. Dis is a classic version of a classic. Don'ts get much better simple fightin' games dan dis.

Also I just stole from Webster (an' completed) Alan Wake. From dis I noticed free fings. Da game is seemin'ly deeply influenced by Mars Volta, Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft and Mark Z Danielewski's "House Of Leaves". It's good, but very short.

Which brings me to... House of Leaves. Which I picked up to reads while stowed away in da hold of a 747 to crash Da Webster's romantic holiday plans.  I forgots dat I wasn't good at readin' so I escaped from me suitcase an' afta nearly depressurin' da plane, causin' at least two of da crew an' most of da passengers ta poo demselves climbed onta da seat next ta Webster (who wos watchin' da frightenin'ly predictable Shutter Island) and demanded he reads it to me. Which he attempted.

So basically House of Leaves is a long critique on a horror movie dat wos never mades, written by a blind man and edited by a liar an potential lunatic. Dis isn't me bein' sarcastic, dis is actually near to da actual plot. See dere's dis guy called Johnny Truant, he's a drug addled story teller wif mental issues who claims in da intoduction dat his pal Lude lives next door to dis weird old dude Zampano who dies, dey raid frough his stuff an' find a chest filled wif writin's pertainin' to Zampano's obsession wif a movie called Da Navidson Record. Johnny claims dat Zampano hads been workin' on a critique an' review of da Navidson Record which purports ta be a documentary 'bouts a fotojournalist who tries to save his marriage by buyin' a house for him an' his miserable wife an' weirdo kids an' to document demselves settlin' down radder dan him goin' off to war torn hellholes to snap deads and injureds. But da house has some problems. It is bigger inside dan it is outside. An soon we learn it is MUCH MUCH bigger inside dan outside.

Zampano, Johnny claims, mades all dis up. However we can't take Johnny's word for it. But den we can't even be sure dat Zampano mades it all up, since Johnny admits to his own editin' and additions to da project. So we is left wif da hokey unreliable narrator who plays wif codes an' acrostics while relatin' his own breakdown in da footnotes of da project he may or may not have mades up or altered which is a blind man's critique of a documentary dat was never mades.

Confused? Good! Now ignore all dat stuff unless ye is one of dem Mansons or somefin dat lissens ta albums backwards ta receives messages from Satan ta go an kill people. In essence wot we has here is an H.P Lovecraft story about a House which has extra-spatial dimensions inside which don't obeys da laws of physics an' a man who' becomes obssessed wif explorin' it. At dis level it's quite spooky an really it's da meat of da book. Da rest is just salad. Word salad! Da best metaphor for dis comes from da book itself. Navidson's kids are clearly freaked by dis weird house an' at skool draws dere home by making a big black square on a page surrounded by dragons an wolves an stuff. Da dragons an wolves is da rest of da stuff, a mere border over da main all encompassin' black horror of a house of darkness inside a normal home.

Webster says dere is a lot of middle brow clever cleverness imbedded in da style an' content of da book's massive footnotes and appendices, but who cares? It's not a bad spooky book.

So we gots to Dubai eventually to gets a transfer to da same Cthulhu worshippin' island as dey wents to last year! More on Dubai later.

Da Maldives is greats. Blazin' sun, world shatterin' funder and lightnin' storms, silence an peace an' lots of morons draggin' neotnatal children half way around da world, inflictin' everyone wif dere howlin' annoyances just so dey can gets a holiday at everyone elses expense. Now I is a selfish, so is da Websters, but we is not dat selfish da we feel entitled ta ruin udders holidays just so we can show off out useless spawns. Dese people is scum. Not only is it cruel to da brats (nots dat I cares much 'bouts dat) but it is dere horrible assumptions dat everybody has got to love dere filthy disease ridden whinin' offspring as much as dey do. Dere is lots of places dey coulds have went which is much more suitable for peoples wif children. Da place is meants ta be a romantic resort for couples an' nuffin' absolutely nuffin' is goin' to ruin romance like a bunch of screamin' sunburnt bored children. I hopes dat dey all end ups wif swine flu or plane crashes.

Apart from da brats, (some of which seemed ta be in dere mid 20's) dere was a lots of Northern English folks dere dis year dat seemed ta takes great pleasure in not only bein' miserable dullards, but felt it dere duty to make sure everybody else was havin' a good time by bein' as miserable as dem by bein' rude, complainin' drunk loudmouth fools. Da Webster said dis wasn't a surprise an' dat we should have been grateful dat dere wasn't more scottish folks ta join in wif dis Dostoeyvskian horrorshow. I began to hope Cthulhu would arise from da ocean an' eat dese halfwits.

Still, we hads a fairly good time. Dey was easy to avoid (cept for at noshtimes) an' we went snoopin' for fish wif snorkels, pestered some sharks and hassled a turtle or two, saw a gang of dolphins at play an' even gots lots of massages an' spa treatments which were FANTASTIC!!!!!!

We had to go backs to Dubai for a stop over since we was not waitin' in an airport for 26 hours. So Dubai... Dis is anudder Lovecraft reference (dough technically a historical one apparently). Has ye ever heards of Irem of da Pillars? A legendary city in da desert damned an swallowed by da sands? If not go wiki it. Anyway Dubai Airport is like dis. A gigantic, spotless, gleaming white pillared, air condistioned affront to Allah wif waterfalls, spensive restaurants, outrageous duty free malls an' all kinds of stuff dat would be considered offensive to da big desert djinn of da holy books. It's da most ostentatious fing I had ever seen. Well dat wos until we left da airport by a car so fancy it would have had da top gear morons diddlin' da exhaust pipe.

Da first fing ye notice is da almost physical heat attackin' ye. second fing ye notice is dat da city is like some science fiction idea come to life, a mega city outs in da middle of da Desert. Da sand obscured da horizon even more dan' da ludicrous grandoise skyscrapers did, of which dere is many. We stayed in a hotel were none of da mens would speak to me or da lady W, which was across da roads from "DA WURLDS BIGGEST MALL!!!" apparently. After gettin' a munch in a tiny bar wif a 40 foot ceilin' Lady Webster saids she wanted to 'vestigate. So we snuck out into da insane heats (I fink it was about 44-48c dependin' on who wos braggin') and went into dis place which was bizarre. Dere was so many shops an so many people from all nations and creeds (dough we did notice dat even dough it was an arab country da only women we saw dressed in burkies was from England.) dat after leavin' an island dat was actually smaller dan da shoppin' centre we was now in, it was quite disorienting. One of da shops sold burkies, which as ye may or may not know is meants to be an attempt to dress da ladies in modest clothin'. Dat would have been fine if it weren't for da fact dat some of dem was so flamboyently covered in gold leaf, sequins, glitter and da like dat even if dey hid every inch of flesh dey was less modest dan an naked Paris Hilton usin' a diamond dildo up her bums at a skool nativity play while sniffin cocaines off da donkey. Well maybe nots quite but dey was stoopid. Dey had a massive supermarket dat sold 4000 types of everyfin, ice cream parlours every 12 feet an electronics stores dat sold nuffin' but screens an' apple crap.

Horrible. Da whole city is a massive display of undeserved and poorly used wealf, a vast architectural and engineering marvel which is in essence nothing more than the biggest folly I has ever witnessed. One days Dubai will be da New Irem, da Desert Djinn is not a force one can holds at bay. I guess dey has never heard of Kanute. It mades my head spin like eatin 20 grams of magic mushrooms while spendin' a days on da waltzers.

So...

I's back. Todays we shall has anudder Cakin' an' on Wednesday (probly) Da conlcusion of Canto four begins, da epic, "Da Wrongest Day".




 
 
   

Oh yeah... Next week or so after Tyrb part one is finished I will be starting something I forgot about. That's right next week (or so) begins another full colour Hypocryphal adventure. GRAND THEFT GATEAU!

I sense the excitement.

Hey folks. You may have noticed part two of "Throwing Pennies at the Damned" finished. It was a tough one to write and draw and so the profane comedy is paused for a while. You may have seen the sci-fi cakin', if not check out Cakin' Wif Audley for full colour three pages of stupidity. Today I'm starting a short story called Tryb which is currently an experiment but which I have plans for it said experiment works. Also coming up soon is the conclusion of Yesterday Next and then I'll be slowing down as I struggle to satisfy the Sorority with a completely redesigned website. I won't be putting up daily pages as of the end of March because I'll be working on something to sell rather than totally free, but if everything goes well I'll stick up some sample pages of that. Don't worry too much though, I have plenty of Audley based craziness planned and the site won't ever go dead for any more than a few days (Well until June when I'm fucking off on Holiday)

As of July I'll be starting "The Wrongest Day" which at the moment looks like it's going to be at least double the length of Abyss Road. So I'll need a rest.

Thanks for all your comments, feedback and kindnesses over the last year. I hope you stay with us.

Webster

Right. Firsts of all lets get one fing straight. I hate Vampires, Drakilla's, Noseyfarters or wotsever ye calls dem, well  Mr Layne an' Mr Rhodes is alright, but aparts from dem I hates Vampires. Sure yer fictions might prtray dem as interestin' but dey is nuffin but blood junkie parasites, dat leechs udders life so dey can continue broodin' eternally.

So imagine hows excited I wos abouts true blood. How excited was I? Not, that's how excited. People'd been ravin' an' rantin' bouts it fors a while but I managed ta avoids it. Trash Buffy wif sexy results, dat's wot I imagined it to be. Den da udder night outta nowhere's da webster gaves me da first two seasons and said watch dem. I was not wrong.

Dat said. It's great.

I always knew it would be, I means how could ye go wrong? So my avoidance tactic worked! Now it's got comished for anudder 2 seasons at least.

So wot's so good about it? It's hard ta say. Dis show knows exactly wot it is an' has a lot o' fun wif it. All I knows is I watched dem all over da last four days an' enjoyed it immensely. Sure it's Trash Buffy wif Sexy Results but dat's wot makes it win! I's as surprised as anybody. I'm not tellin' ye any more.

Go watch it. Ensure a bright future for it.

Auds.

Webster's been doin' spring cleanin' an' barred me from da house since da ends a January cos he says I makes too much of a mess. I demanded he gets his work up ta dates to which he replied "This story was meant to finish in March, piss off I'm ahead of schedule."

I told him dat if he had dones MORE work he could be even MORE aheads o' schedule but he ended up ignorin' me an' decided to catch a cold instead which was why dere was nuffin' much happenin' last week.

Now dat's outta da way. Reviews.

First Mass Effect 2.

Nows. I never played Mass Effect, cos at da time I was involved in udder fings. However after people droolin' about da sequal to me as if it were da Third Comin' (I recently founds out dat Cheesy DIDS return was a top Cathar an' got executed by da "Holy" Roman Empire), I decided ta avoids it dat is until Lady Webster boughts Da Webster it as a surprise. Grudgin'ly I playeds frough it from begginin' ta ends wif all da side missions an' assignments.

So yeah it's goods. It's not da greatest RPG nor da greatest shooter, but it don't haves ta be. Remember whens people says dat games couldn't match up ta movies? Well dis one does. Dis one is is super blockbustin' all action space drama wif a story dat is ACTUALLY engagin' an' characters dat aints morally exaggerated. It looks beautiful, plays beautifully an' is surprisingly full of content in an age where games 'cept for WoW is gettin' smaller an smaller.

I'm not sayin' much 'bouts dis since it's story heavy, but if ye likes big scale space opera den ye can'ts go wrong wif dis. George Lucas should be spinnin' in his grave.

 

Ah January. Da longest an' dullest monf o' da year. When Lag! is at his strongest an' tries ta grab ye wif his tendrils back to da previous year before finally quittin' sometime aroun' Burns Night (contrary to wot I assumed, Burns Night is in January an' named after an an incoherent drunk who rambled on about diddlin' roses an' mice bein' dumb an' witches an' stuff an is not a more accurate name for Guy Fawkes Night, when filthy peasant children practically incinerates demselves wif explosives.)

So nuffin' much ta report. Da Webster is under some big stress dough. He's recently upgraded his computy system as requested by Soror Apnoea, who is overseein' da upcomin' changes to da website since Da Black Temple will be our new sponsors. (Mainly cos of President Evil forcin' da previous Sponsors to wifdraw after he declared me Terrorist and Anti-Demon Zero.) So dis along wif da January bloos is wots made hims a bit tardy wif da pages. Still four pages a week is better dan nuffin' I's sure ye'll agree.

I wish I had more ta tells ye but mostly I's been stuffin' me fat face wif lots of Cakes, fartin' an' sleepin' a lot. When I comes out of hibernation properly I'll gets back to reviewin' stuff.

HATE UP!!!

Auds.

Audleys big guide ta 2009 (The Year of Plague)

Ah well da year started of strong wif Da Israeli's defendin' demselves by attackin Gaza ta stop da might of da evil Hamas an' killin' lots of people. It was all above board as could be told by the non stop news coverage from wifin Gaza so it's a pretty even conflict an casualties were minimal on boaf sides we wish all of dem well in dere attempts ta play da biggest victim.

In better news January hailed da first Black man ta becomes president of da United States. Civil Rights has come full circle cos it also means da Barak Obama is da first black man in da U.S. in two hundred years or so ta become a slave. Shame really.

Iceland collapsed, probably because of dere use of da despicable coke fiend Kerry Katona in dere shitty prolefeed adverts.

In February da crazy Taliban continued dere radical haircuts an Australia went up in flames again.

In March swine flu was released to a keen media who made it inta a mad drama which was much more entertainin' dan most of da T.V. Of da year. Some guys dat hit balls wif sticks got attacked in Pakistan an' in a massive display of hypocrisy da ICC sent out an arrest warrant against da scumbag President of Sudan, while all da Western atrocities continued heroically.

April... FOOLS!

May had North Korea wavin' it's flaccid dick about in an attempt to impress while it's civilians ate each other. While in South Korea da Ex-pres topped himself after alleged corruption charges.

June. I uncovered a Cthulhu Cult in the Indian ocean an' some guy called Jack Michaels, who sang some decent songs, went from being black to white and was suspected of kiddy diddlin' about 20 years ago died leadin' ta a sad state of affairs where Iran, who had a big strop about which crazed anti-american puppet became president, was pushed of the news schedule so we could see a bunch of weirdlings weep and snivel about da death of dis guy.

July. Said guy was buried. Some said he rose after three days and promised he would return from heaven soon to lead the chosen to da new Jerusalem. We is still waitin' for dat.

August. Da release of a dying man from prison causes outrage amongst dose who like people ta suffer unless it's in countries dey don't approves of, den dey bleat about how draconian such regimes are an' want to kill da citizens of dat country for bein' backwards.

September. Suddenly an' wifout ANY warning over da last 40 years wotsoever, da climate changed. Leadin' ta swift and drastic inaction from everybody but advertisers an' dere children and dere childrens children.

October. Loadsa people gets killed in da border between Afghanistan an' Pakistan, but dey don'ts count cos dey wasn't wearin' Nato uniforms.

November. Capitalism succeeds once more as Dubai becomes as skint as most udder states as actual specie goes inta da hands of fewer and fewer an' imaginary debt goes inta da hands of more an more.

December. Climate change continues to cause so much concern dat nuffin' is done.

So dat was da year dat went. No real surprises, ye monkeys is stupid and likes ta kill each udder an' pretend dere is some real reason for it udder dan being mental an' bloodthirsty.

Still in many ways dere was some good fings. Here's some of dem.

Albums.

All in all a fine year. It started well wif Animal Collectives Merriweather Post Pavilion soon followed by da terrific Fever Ray. We had Mastodon in fine form wif Crack the Skye an' Grizzly Bear released da amazin' Veckatimest. Fuck Buttons Tarot Sport made us all enjoy straightforward techno again an' even Da Flamin' Lips got it togeder by fallin' apart wif da great Embryonic. Da Arctic Monkeys fucked about wif Queens of Da Stone Age an' gave us a grower an' da Mars Volta let da side down wif da lacklustre Octahedron. Late in da year cames da quirky an' pretty damn good Logos by Atlas Sound an' da year ended as it began wif da Animal Collective's new EP.

Still I fink da best album of da year has ta go ta Grizzly Bear, not only cos it's brilliant, but because it made nobody elses top spot an' it should have been.

Movies.

I din't watch dat many this year but here's my faves in no order.

Paranormal Activity

Moon.

The Class.

Pontypool.

If I watched udders I can't recall just now.

Games.

Sorry I won't hear of anyfin' but Left 4 Dead an' it's sequel. Scroo modern warfare! Dat fing should come wif papers ta enlist inta da Imperial Army.

An dat's it. Get lost 2009, let's see if 2010 is da year we make contact or da year da monkeys blow more of each udder up. I'm finkin' da latter.

All da bestest.

Audley Strange.

Alrighty peepholes? Been a busy times of late. Anyways I hopes ye is currently enjoyin' me latest adventure. Yeah I knows some of it's desperately grim and some of it is possibly incomprehesible (Webster says it's all reprehensible an' makes him feel dirty workin' on it hehahahaha) but know dat it's nots just grotesque for grotesques sake. Still I fink ye monkeys gets a bit complacent 'bouts yer brats an' don'ts like ta confront da very real fact dat some of yer ape tribe fink dat it is perfectly acceptable ta brutalise yer seedlings. Some fings should not be sanitised and if I's offended anyones, good! Not like yer news is gonna challenge ye is it? Ye lot has monsters in yer midst an' ye still wander rounds wif yer heads up yer arses playing wif yer mobile yakkers while da monsters is tearin' everyfin' apart.  Wake da fug up!!!

So dat's my fishal pology.

Next weeks da canto continues, dere will be probably anudder 7 or 8 pages before Jeesymess an I'll be posting my end of year rounds up of movies games an' music. From da 25f to Da 2nd of January updates will be sporadic. (It's an if an when fing since Da Lady W is on Holidays AGAINS!!!) So check back if an when ye likes just don't expect much over da whole wastemass shenanigans.

Chow for now!

Aud.

Hullos! Alright straight too it. Da Webster's been dragged dis way and dat at da moment, so he tells me ta say he's sorry for da lack of regular updates of 5 pages a week. Dis is due ta fings like unavoidable appointments, sleepin' in an' even his unforseen Birfday. Still usually from Halloween ta dis week we is off so somefin' is better dan nuffin' an' since ye is payin' nuffin' ta gets somefin' shuts up!

Anyway. I's playin' Dragon Age: Origins at da moment. It's pretty good, but I'll review it properly next week alongs wif...

LEFT 4 DEAD 2!!!!!!

It comes outs on Friday so don't be expectin' fings ta get back ta normal just yet as me an hims will be in fights ta see who gets to play it on his Hex-Box.

Today's page is done, but not lettered so it'll be up tomorrer &c...

Aud.

(note from Audley I saw dis too buts Webster demanded he review it insteads.)

Howdy, So yes, thanks Audley for allowing me to review something on the website I pay for, that's so magnanimous of you.

Let's get to it.

I was looking forward to Paranormal Activity, I really was, not much in the world of Horror movies actually frightens me, sure I occassionally jump when the movie attempts to make you jump, not often but it does happen, goreporn I find almost as tiresome as the penetration angst fantasies of the Slasher flicks, but for all that being said I love horror movies, especially supernatural horror and zombie movies, but for differing complex reasons. What I looked forward to in Paranormal Activity was that it's one of the increasing genre of "found footage" horror movies, made famous by the much maligned but groundbreaking "The Blair Witch Project". (I don't want comments about Cannibal Holocaust or The Last Broadcast, they are entirely different.)

For what it was, The Blair Witch Project (TBWP) was an exceptional experiment almost in the Dogme mould. It came out at a time before youtube and before our minds were used to seeing "footage" as fiction. I saw it before the hype and found it did something to me that no other movie had before. By pressing the buttons of my imagination it invoked primal instinctual fears, lost in the woods at night and being fucked with by a seemingly supernatural predator. I recall leaving that cinema and looking at the ashen grim faces of the audience, some of whom I imagine would be the first to berate it, possibly in an attempt to placate their egos or regain their composure after being actually frightened out their wits by nothing. Sure some people didn't get frightened by it, but what I'm saying is that in my experience the actual fear in that cinema was tangible.

Last year saw both the wonderfully grim REC and big budget roller coaster of Cloverfield, but the whole "found footage" thing was a bit of a cliché which culminated in "Diary of the Dead" which was less than impressive.

Luckily Paranormal Activity was made back in 2007 and had been doing the rounds at festivals without finding a distrubtor. People kept telling me they saw it and were quite shook up by it, compared it to TBWP and said it was worse (not in a bad way, in a frightening way). I was excited by this and waited patiently for it to get released, but even after Spielberg picked it up, it looked like it wasn't going to get a major release. It finally has now. However in saying that I should point out that the version I just watched was the original (the end has been re-edited) given to me on DVD by a dark Chthonic entity with pigtails.

In a way Paranormal Activity it is like TBWP in so far is it is short on budget, puports to be found footage and the protagonists are suffering beyond all endurance at the hands of a seemingly invisible otherworldly antagonist. However whereas TBWP's terror comes from the idea of being lost and toyed with. Paranormal Activity's thing is that it dredges up another deep primal fear, the intruder in our home.

SPOILERS!!!

So, the plot is this. There is a young couple. Katie, who has been subject to weird poltergeist phenomena most of her life and her boyfriend Micah, who is cynical but buys a camera in order to record the nocturnal goings on in their home. Soon we are witness to their lives and the events as they unfold. Things here do go bump in the night. From doors swinging open and shut to ghostly thumps and footfalls ascending stairs the whole paranormal bit. Katie tries her best to cope with this, creepy as it is, but Micah, well Micah is a fucking idiot and not only goads the spirit haunting their home but actually even calls it out. He mocks Katie's attempt to get outside help from a psychic who claims that it is not a ghost, but a demons. Even though it is clear he is out of his depth with his alpha male tactics, Micah refuses to admit defeat and he provokes it more and despite warnings not to attempt to communicate with it, attempts to communicate with it. This leads him to get a ouija board even though again he has been advised this is intensely stupid. From thereon in things get worse, much much worse. The presence becomes more violent almost immediately. They leave the house and instantly a wind blows through it, the planchette of the board starts moving until it ignites the board. Katie is not unsurprisingly freaked and angry but Micah is not done and keeps up his investigation, his camera filming the moving planchette leads him to believe the message is "Goodbye Dianne". A power struggle begins between the demon and Micah, it's blatantly one sided and it isn't very long before the two of them are exhausted, harrassed and at their wits end. Micah and Katie call the psychic again, but he's freaked out upon entering the house and leaves, leaving them alone to face the entity. Micah discovers a website claiming to be that of a girl named Dianne who in the 60's was possessed by a demon and was torn herself apart during an exorcism. Another night passes in which Katie is physically dragged by the leg out of the room. In the morning both have had enough decide to leave the house.

The demon however has one last trick up his sleeve. Which depending on the version you see, may be different.

END OF SPOILERS.

So... was it any good?

I have to say yes. I know that many people won't enjoy or be frightened by this movie and there are others who will badly over-compensate being frightened by it (Like Micah) by telling everyone how "lame" it is in an attempt to divert their own lameness away from their egos, but frankly I was SHIT SCARED and I don't mind admitting it. Mind you I had the perfect setting. In the dark, on my own, at 3a.m. Several times I had to pause it, it was getting too much, at one particularly heavy point I managed to unpause it and pause it again within 12 seconds. For me this was unexpected, nor was it the funny "ooh I'm startled hahah" of most horror. My spine actually tingled, hair stood up on the back of my neck, I even had sweaty palms and a dry mouth. I genuinely don't think any movie has frightened me as much. It was actually hard to take.

No wonder people were leaving test showings.

So in short. Paranormal Activity is everything I want from a horror movie. It draws you in to seemingly a real situation where you observe as they do rather than from behind the protection of the fourth wall you're there as a witness, it doesn't rely on cheap thrills or maxed out cgi monsters or bathtubs of offal being flung about. It has no music to burst the suspension of disbelief. It's characters are not merely cyphers but people who are enduring something beyond endurance. It is tight, claustrophobic and above all it allows your imagination to run riot.

To me this is what the genre needs. Frightening movies, movies that are not "fun" scary or blood drenched grotesques but ones that leave you reeling, that frighten you in a deep and hardwired way. It's only a pity that these movies have to be hyped to make it. If there are any fiends out there that want to fund me, I'd love to do and am capable of doing something similar, scarier and like Welles "War of the Worlds" and "GhostWatch" only on our latest medium the net. Not so much an ARG more an ARRRRGHH!.

Paranormal Activity. 9 out of 10.

I'm nots a revisionist. When oldsters younger dan me start talkin' bout how good da Eighties or Da Seventies were musically, I point outs dat almost everyfin' of every decade of pop music has been utterly dreadful rubbish. For Every "Eton Rifles" dere's a "Some Girls" for every "Dis Charmin' Man" dere's a "Muscle Bound".

Da same is troo of Punk. Punk was a way of rubbin' out da "dinosaurs" of AOR an' Prog which preceded it. However most of punk was terrible, an' instead of bein' a shot in da arm for music it was a bullet in da spine which has taken years of recovery. Still in 1977 every town had a place where phoney punkies met to spurt off about Lester Bangs, da Clash or da Pistols or Johhny's plastic abortion or whatever. Dey thrived on lack of ability and controversy an' meanwhile Rumours sold millions of copies becomin' one of da top ten albums of all time.

Da question is why?

Was Rumours a chill out album for da Disco Stu crowd so coked out of dere tiny minds dey needed somefin' udder dan morphine ta cool dem off? Who knows? All I know is dat dese questions were on my mind last week when I finally decided dat I should really give it a go, never having heard most of it.

I wish I hadn't. Let me explain, I listened to dis album twice just to make sure it really was as bad as I first assumed. You know what, it was worse! I felt sicks after it. Where to begins? Well let's begin wif da first song which sounds like it was produced by a drunk hick in a paddlin' pool full of dyin' fish an' played by multiple amputees hittin' dere instruments wif dere tongues while Buckingham's irritatin' yokel voice blabs on wif a pointless ditty which has da lyrics "won't you lay me down in da tall grass an let me do my stuff?" Wow! Dey say Ahmadinejad talks bollocks! From dis banal little number we go onto da very famous "Dreams" sung by Nikki Sixx Stevie Nicks. I don't cares if people in da seventies wanted to deposit dere jennies in her mouth, dis is dross!

I'd go on but for fug's sake they' don't even deserve a thoroughly bad review.  Needless to say dis is a diddlin' album for da brain dead ta pretend dey is makin' great love, when really dey is just suirtin' fluids at each udder.

Dat it is a huge seller may go somewat explain da unchecked rapacious irresponsible breedin' of ye filthy monkeys wif yer foul even worse dan you offspring.

One fumb outta ten an' dat's just cos I like da font.

So, way back in da late eighties, before indie an' corporate rock finally got married durin' Cobain's shotgun weddin' I used ta go see a lot o' indie bands, some were good an' da bad ones were even better since dey gave me tips on how ta torture souls wif really bad music. One of da bands who were borderline was Da Flamin' Lips. (I could go on here an' rant about bands like Galaxie 500 who were better but ignored but well I haves... oh well.)

I had a copy of Telepathic Surgery and In a Priest Driven ambulance, but I was never too keen on dem, dough some of da songs were great. So I ignored da Flamin' Lips until fairly recently where I gave their later albums a fair hearin' an' pronounced dem... "alright."

Dis is faint praise ye understand, to me Muse is alright, alright just means it don't get me hackles up so much dat I wanna commit atrocities against da band and dere fans families record companies, producers etc.  I won't actively complain, but given da choice I'd not listen to dem.

So imagine how surprised I was by Embryonic. Dis album is a super noisy mutant bastard foetus concieved when Joy Division, Can, Air and Suicide has a saucy gangbang in Wayne Coyne's brain. It's great! From da openin' "Convinced of Da Hex" onwards we is not in da usual uplifitin' pop philosophic territory dat da Flamin' Lips have inhabited for a long while, dis album is downbeat, abrasive and beautiful all at da same time. Wif guest appearances by Karen O (who literally seems to have phoned it in) and MGMT (for some odd reason) dis is one of dem albums dat I can listen to an' go, ye knows in ten years I'll still be listenin' to dis.

So well done Da Flamin' Lips, I'd never have guessed ye could have pulled dis off but am glad ye did.

Nine fumbs up outta 10.

Air. Or Air French Band, has been makin' quality bachelor pad lounge music since dere' multi-bulti-billion sellin' Moon Safari, which took a blender ta Floyd, an ounce of quality dope, Serge Gainsbourg, Tangerine Dream, Acker Bilk an' Stereolab and turned out a chilled out groove leadin' to an unforseens optimism in Europe, quickly pissed upon by Islamic an' Christian Radicals from da Deserts and Washington.

Still dat was den, dis is now. So what has da French duo popped out at us dis time? Certainly 10000mhz Legends was a bit sharper and not as lazy (in a good way) as Moon Safari, whereas Talkie Walkie and Pocket Symphony tried to recapture da feeling of Moon Safari but din't quites make it since unlike Moon Safari, many of da songs is pessimistic in feel. In many ways Love 2 attempts da same fing, but dis time dey has come up wif somefin' which is a nice balance of all da previous albums wifout goin' off da rails. From da big synf's of da single Do Da Joy through  da Gainsbourgese "So Light is her footfalls", invokin' Can an' da B52's wif  "Be A Bee" what we have is da familiar, given a wash, some happy pills an let loose.

All in all it does it's job, as it's meant to wifout takin' unnecessary risks wif da formula dat makes dem so good. Is it formulaic den? Yes, but unlike da Mars Volta who I criticised for not movin' forward wif Octahedron, Love 2 benefits from stayin' in familiar an' welcome territory.

All in all it's not gonna shatter da walls between dimensions or anyfin' but it's good fun.

7 Fumbs up outta ten.

Okay well Part Two of "Throwin' pennies at the Damned", "Abyss Road" starts today. Now over da last couple o' monfs Da Webster has been given ye full colour pages in Undeadageddon an' Yesterday Next. Dat stops taday as he reverts back to his orignal style ta tell me fabulous tale. Don't fear dough. He is currently finishin' off "Sci-Fi Cakin'" Da Digitally Remastered High Definition Directors Cut Ultimate Gold Collectors Limited Edition Box Set for infinite Canvas for a laff an' dis will be posted a.s.a.p.

Hope ye enjoy it. I'll be reviewin' some books an' sounds soon.

CHOW!

I hads been lookin' forward ta Pontypool for a while. All I knew abouts it was dat A) it was a zombie movie (false) an' B) It had one set. (troo)

So I saws it da udder day an' I was well impressed. First of all Webster was all chuffed cos he said it was like a movie he'd make. So what's it all about?

(Spoilers in italics)

Grant Mazzy is a failin' drunk shock Jock wif a brain. He delights in bein' confrontational an' makin' his listeners feel uncomfortable, cos of dis he has been fired until eventually he presents morin' radio in a small town called Pontypool where da most interestin' fing dat has happened in ages is da disappearance of a cat. However one mornin' he goes ta work an all hell breaks loose outside. As he an' his crew sit comfortably in da station dey get reports comin' in first locally an' den internationally dat somefin' is seriously wrong with da good folks of Pontypool. Dey is goin' mental, is flockin' abouts gibberin' in mirderous an' suicidal rampages. Mazzy stays on air communicatin' wif his audience as da Armed forces turn up to try an' sort out da escalatin' insanity.

Soon we find out dat da reason da people is goin' crazy is because da english language has become infected wif a disease an' da people infected are goin' mad as dere mental immune system tries ta shake it off.

(Spoilers end)

Dis is a heavy dialogue movie which could quite easily be a play, small cast, one set an' in fact I believe it's been made inta a radio play. Da script is humourous clever an' vaguely anti-establishment, da plot falls a bit once da reveal has been introduced, but none da less dis is da type o' movie, like primer did for sci-fi, dat challenges da mentality dat horror movies must be visceral an' filled wif cgi.

It's great. Go see it.

Nine fumbs up.

Hullos. Well looks like me blog is back ups for now. I don'ts have much ta say at da moment cos I is busy killin zed's in Left 4 Dead's latest expansion an' is enjoyin' it, so I'll brook no moans. Anyways Left 4 Dead 2 comes out next Monf, (I'm gettin' it as a belated Hallowe'en present... Well Webster's gettin' it, I'm stealin' it off him.)

Bye for now.

Auds.

Lemme first says dat I hate skools. I wents once or twice an' it wos horribles. So when Da Webster saids ta me ta fill in for him durin' his sleepy sickness, I checked out dis movie he was lookin' forward ta seein'.

It was greats!  Granted a lot of ye sub-literate stink-apes will fink it dull an' pointless, I suspected da same fing. I watch movies ta be entertained, not ta see slices o' monkey life which I cans check out by stickin' me head outs of da window of Da Websters house or watchin' dere souls bicker argue an' sell each udder outs like da victims o' da libertines in Passolini's Salo. (Hahahahah ye finks I's a doof cos I can'ts write well an' is only eight but I been eights since before "Helviticus committed deuteronomy" as me ol' speccy potato-chuckin' drunk pal Jimmy Joyce said.)

Anyways slice o' life is pish. Frankly dere is nuffin' more horrendous ta me dan havin' ta endure stuff like Mike Leigh or Ken Loach. Well dat's not strictly true havin' ta endure dem stale sickly sweet unrealistic  "Da teacher dat makes da difference ta his (or her) rowdy class" movie. Ye knows Sister Act, Coach Carter, Dangery Minds all dat rubbish. Dey is nuffin' like real skool, ask Eric Harris an' Dylan Klebolds, when ye get down here, ask yer kids ask teahcers ask anyone, or stay oblivious an just reminisce o dem dreamy skive years ye wasted learnin' nuffin much about nuffin' much before poppin' inta da wageslavery o work sleep tears an' deadness.

So as ye can imagine, I was NOT lookin' much forwards ta seein' dis. DEN da fat doof tells me it's in French! wif subtitles no dubbys!  (see earlier comment about ye sub-literate stink apes). So I was not a pleased Audley. I coulda been watchin' "Psycho Cannibals Vs da Crack Ho's from Mars" or " I will Eats yer face" but no here I was goin' ta watch anudder feel good pile o rubbish in a cinema verite style in French wif subtitles. Dat was an a priori minus 37.23 fumbs up right dere.

Still I sat downs an wifin a few minutes I realised dat dis wasn't as bad as I had been leads to assume. First of all ye could tell dat da kids had not been surgically altered by da disneyficator ta be walkin' cartoons, some bein' downright ugly. Secondly dey weren't overactin' how bad dey was, dey was actin' like kids, casually self obssessed, mostly uninterested, starved for attention an' setttin' demselves up wif an us an dem mentality.

BUTS! so was da teachers. From da whinin' o' one of dem sayin' he is sick of da filthy brats to some boot all chuffed cos da spurt she took up her durin' gettin' diddled got fixed an' was developin' inta another monkey mouf through to da mealy moufed liberalism o' da main teacher an' his run ins wif a borderline totalitarian colleague I soon gots drawn inta da tiny story dat was unravellin'. It's not earf shatterin' stuff. Dere is no major crisis for da teach (da protagonist) da deal wif an' come out da udder end. What we get is certainly an' artifice, but it is not a fiction ta make us feel good about sendin' brats ta da industiralised brain laundries o' da state na dis movie shows da futility da promise da apafy an' more dan anyfin' da sheer luck involved in tryin' ta stuff facts inta da brains of shorties dat's brain is already stuffed wif fings EVEN LESS IMPORTANT dan grammar structures an' how ta add an subtract imaginary letters from each udder an stuff.

In dat sense dis movie approaches somefin' dat can be found on da same continent as troof, a bold fing indeed in dis day and age. Dere are no answers here, save da faulty ones yakked out by ta yoofs an' da teachers. We get ta see da frustrations of all involved an' yet my main problem is dat it, as all Skool movies, dere is da basic assumption dat da primary mechanics of skool is unquestionable, dat it is in an' of itself somefin' udder dan a waste of time for da majority. Dat's my problem, dis movie is tryin' ta be objective an' it kinda works.

I has ta say da actin' was top notch (anudder feat in dis day an' age of da wide eyed 2 emotion one gimmick Disneyficated autobots dat infects da medium) da low key approach, da subtle addressin' of da small problems in multi-culturalism which can affect children an' teachers.

Dis ain't a movie wif any answers or much in da way of actin' or splosions or blood, but I haveta give it major kudos for holdin' my attention considerin' everyfin' about it sounds like a "No" ta me and yet it turned out a yes.

A simple, small, well acted, well written movie dat surprised me.

Da Class. Eigh Fumbs up outta ten (dat's includin' da minus for subject matter etc.)

Hehehehe, it's been a rubbish weeks for Webster. Firsty his computy goes mental an' flings all his work inta da nuffingness of static den he catches illness an' insomnia an' is now all vague-headed. It's his own faults. I tolds him to continue wif me adventures but wot does he do? He ignores me an' goes ahead wif part two of Yesterday Next . Goods! Yesterday Next is a rubbish!

Anyways 'pologies for nots finishin' me Zombie Survival guide but I remembered dat ye is humans an' as such ofishally me enemies, so screw ye, go gets eaten!

Further ta all dis, here is wots goin' ta be goin' on on audleystrange.com for da forseeable future.

Yesterday Next will finish somertime Early in October. After dat we shall be returnin' to da Cantos an' Part Four will continue wif Abyss Road. Webster told me ta warns ye dat since he has a potential commercial project underway dat it may not always gets updated as often as is sposed to, but rest assured he will get on wif it (Ye cant's really complain cos it's not like any of ye ever pay him for all of da pages so far.)

Anyways ta all da readers of dis blog, fanks for yer time an patience if not yer cash.

Heheehhehe.

Audley.  

For some weird reasons me blog of late seems ta be usin' up a lotta bandwidf. So 'pologies to dose who reads it. It's not my fault so many of ye does dat Webster's server dudes go bananas an' shut it downs. He's a cheap ass is Webster. So befores we go back to me zombie survival guide I just wanted ta say a few words bouts "Veckatimest" by Grizzly Bear. It's been out for ages, but Amazon don't deliver ta Hell an' our own net stores is shockin'ly expensive since da devaluation of da soul when da Genocide Bubble burst. It's all da fault of lendin' ta Sub-prime Governments. Anyway Grizzly Bear.

Webster first got inta dis, despite bein' a fat grumpy oldard he does likes some good music damn him. So as I wos always fartin' about at his while he doodled an' typed I gotsta hear it in da background a lot. At firsts I said he was a stone eared nincompoop an' dat he would listen to a violin get graped by a bunch of horny sheeps dat dis was pansy pop an' dat he should kills himself an let me sell all his stuff ta buy cakes which I would, at least, find enjoyables. In retaliation he started ignorin' me an doin' Yesterday Next just outta spite!

Still one day when I was comin' back from da Zoo, (dere was dis whole fing about da penguins wantin' a ceasefire...) I was onna bus when I heards da songs "Two Weeks" on da radio. I was annoyed at first until I realised dat A) da song was actually quite good and 4) Udder people liked it! I immediately jumped up onto me chair and shouted "DAT IS GRIZZLY BEAR, DEY HAS BEEN MY FAVOURITE BAND FOR AAAAAAAGGGEEEEES AN' YOU IS ALL LEWWWWZZZEEERZZZZ!!!!" Den I pointed an' laughed at da fools an da driver came out an lifted me above his heads an marched me all da way to da front of da bus so dat everyones could see how amazin' Audley is.

As I walked da rest of da way homes I couldn' gets da song outta me heads. I grew impatient an' was ready ta tantrum when I remembered I had me mobile. I foned da Webster an' said "I'm somewhere just outside Edinbruh come an picks me up in yer car!"

Da moanster replied, "Well the problem is Audley, I don't actually have a car nor am I legally permitted to drive one." From behinds his villianous chucklin' I coulds hear Grizzly Bear. He was tauntin' me. "What are you doing away out there?"

Audley was in no moods for hims so I shouted "BEIN' FANTASTIC!" an slammed me thumb down on da little red phone as hard as I coulds.  I stormed off determined ta gets revengeance on First Bus and Da Webster. (Dat reminds me, does first bus employ weirdos ta populate dere buses? Almost every time I get on one somefin weird happens.)

Early da next mornin' I snuck inta Da Webster's room of entertainin' fings I'm not allowed ta use wifout dere permission. I turned on his computy, an after accidentally breakin' somefin by presssin' enter an left mousey too quickly an too often, I had a small war wif Itunes an' finally I listened ta Veckatimest in it's entirety.

It's quite good. It's kinda flowy mellow fey sorta music, but from start to end it jaunts along nicely but manages to be melodic an' spikey all at da same time. I fink it would be pointless ta try an discuss any specific tracks since I fink it works better as a whole album.
I'd give dis eight fumbs up but I'm still not sure an enthusiastic initial response implies any longevity. (I stole dat from Webster, hehehehe, it's his major complaint about most pop music).

While we is on da subject of music, it is time for da Yearly Marsh Vaulter disc review. Sigh! Must I? Okay octagonad or whatever..
Octahedron. Well, it's not very goods is it? I means if de plopped dis out after De-Loused then it might have cut muster, but to me anyway dis is an album dat sounds like da concept is dey took two songs dey cut from De-Loused Frances, Amp and Bedlam an' tied dem togedder wif a series of single tones. Nuffin' new is derived from any of dis, it's not so much a Mars Volta Album as we has come to expect, which is often challengin' to dere fanbase, as it is like an advert of what dey has already done, a portfolio. Nuffin' much wrong wif dat, I guess, but Octahedron don'ts provide ye wif da same moments of "WTF?" hilarity dat ye gets upon listenin' to some of da more astoundin' tracks on any of da previous albums.

I's bein' harsh, sure, dere is nuffin' much wrong wif Octahedron, it's a good jumpin' on point for dose new to da band, since it seems quite accessable in comparison to say somefin' like "Tetragrammaton" an' it's spirallin' angular madness. So perhaps dis album shoulds be seen as an advert. Is they splittin' up? Is they lookin' for a new major label contract? Who knows?  All I know is dat while dere is nuffin' wrong wif da music on dis album, most of it's actually really good, dere is nuffin' on dis album dat evinces another step forward for this band in the way that songs like Meccamputechture or Soothsayer do, it's da It's The Mars Volta by numbers. Octahedron... eight? Nah. It gets 6.

Shoes.

Fing is dat most of ye probly fink.. "shoes? has she gone mads? what 'bouts chainsaws anti-personnel devices an' cluster bombs?" Well says Audley, "shut it you idiot, dis is a survival guide, nots go be a gun-totin' hero den get scoffed or killed by yer own poorly maintained weapons guide, if dat's wot ye wants ye is a fool! SHOES!"

See shoes is important cos more likely dan not yer isn't one of dem crazy barefoot witches from da Black Temple, and yer feets is probly all soft an smothered in sock in super protection. However in Zombie Judgement Day, ye is gonna have to be walkin' an awful awful lot, an' you is gonna need comfy shoes an lots of em. Sure you mights fink ye've had a blister cos yer strappy sandle or football boot has been a bit tight, but dey is nuffin' compared ta da fleshy bloons filled wif rank interstitial fluid pus an blood ye is likely ta get if ye has ta traipse 400 miles in shoes dat is soaked an erodin' wif every mile cos it's da middle of winter. Maintain yer feet at all costs or even a legless zombie will be able ta chase ye.

Yeah suddenly yer not laffin' eh? NYAH!

Ropes. Chances are, if ye is readin dis, ye is a Captain Fatso wif about as much upper body strengf as a Tryannosaur wif muscular dystrophy. Da chances dat ye is gonna survive is slim, but if by some miracle ye has stopped stuffin' yer face long enuff ta avoid da zombies ye is gonna have ta get fit sharpish, cos ye will need ta keep off da ground. Ropes ye see is useful for suspendin' between buildin's or usin' on da outside of same ta climb ta roofs in relative safety, dey can be used ta bind up doors, packs an' even lynchin' an' members of yer team who does somefin' life freatenin'ly stupid. Course most of ye already knows dis, I gets da feelin' ye've spent yer lives playin' dungeon an dragons.

Pillows. Dis might seem like a luxury item, but ye never knows where ye is gonna rest yer head, an' if ye fink bouts it, havin' a stiff neck from sleepin' in a dumb position, could be seriously dangerous if ye can'ts see where da brain munchers is comin' from. Stayin' comfy is stayin' safe.

Plastic sheetin'. From protectin' ye and yer stash from rain an' snow ta makin' a tent ta usin' it for extra body heat storage Plastic sheetin' is a must. Also it's a good fing ta slaughter animals on, so ye don't waste any of dere blood. Yeah it might sound disgustin' now, but a couple o pints o' moo blood mixed wif oats is fillin' an nutritious, specially' since ye might find yerself 3 starvation lengfs from da next city dat has not been over-run. A versatile fing is plastic sheetin' do not go into da future wifout some.

Books. Robinson Crusoe was stranded on a deserted island an' went mad, started hallucinatin' some dude he called Friday. So remember, loneliness can kill. Fink of da immense stress ye will be under, da world ye knew swept away, all yer family an' friends munched by da undead, rottin' corpse stink everywhere, gettin' chased by increasin' horrors, an above all dat, ye mights have no company. It's important for ye ta keep yer wits, so get yerself some books. It's yer choice but i'd stay away from books dat is gonna remind ye of all ye have lost, Science Fiction, Fantasy, How to books, dese are all acceptable, 100 Greatest Party Cities, or Fusion Recipes for the Ultimate dinner party is utter fail!

A Can opener. Dat's self explanatory, but burn it inta yer brains, ye will be amazed how many will forgets such a fundamental fing. Same wif matches an lighters.

Candles. Dese is more important dan matches an lighters cos dey has sustained flame, so apart from givin' much needed light at night, ye will probly eventually use dese as yer main source of fire unless yer one of dem boyscout types dat can make fire wif lego an' spam. Candles is a wise choice.

Bleach. Dead fings rot, rotten fings spread disease, disease kills. So does bleach even more since it kills bacteria. Don't use it on da toilet bowl, save it an' use it on corpse mountains instead, a clean hideyhole is a safe hideyhole.

Tin foil. Dis is somefin else dat ye might fink a luxury, but it has almost as many uses as plastic sheetin'. Ye can make sure dat dog ye killed gets roasted properly, an' ye can use it as a cheap kind of solar sheetin'. Use yer brain wif dis one an ye will find dat tin foil is a much better mans best friend dan roast fido.

Boot polish. Perfect for camoflage and keepin' shoes in good condition as well as a source of fuel in desperation. Neat an small, keep some at yer side.

More to follow. 

Your Stash.

Before we starts, a lil word about guns. Many zombie self help guides out dere will tell ye dat ye need guns. Dis is mental an' here's why.
Yeah ye mights pick off a few zombies wif 'em, but once dey is empty many people will find it difficult ta chuck away, so inevitably dey will go on ammo hunts. Dis is irresponsible, negligent an' increases da chance ye will get scoffed. So screw guns, ye wants a weapon? Gets yerself somefin' like a hockey stick or two an bolt some meat cleavers to da end of em. But dis is about defence an' survival, not risk takin' an attack so let's get to Da Stash.

Obviously ye will needs food. Tinned food an lots of it, dis will means ye will also needs somefin to carry it in. I recommend da good ol' shoppin' trolley. Make sure ye gets meat fish veg an fruit, not just 1200 cans o' tuna, or ye'll end up malnourished. Cos ye is gonna be eatin' cheap food ye will also needs toilet rolls and lots of em too. Granted ye can wipe yer bum wif old clothes ye find as well but trust me, ye is gonna be shittin' yerself quite a bit so be on da safe side an get toilet rolls.

Don't bother wif anyfin but a basic first aid kit, anyfin remotely serious means death an so ye don't wanna be weighed down wif unnecessary stuff, if ye don't have to. A word on dis. If ye can find a location to hole up near a pharmacy, measure up da risk of stayin' dere for as long as possible 'gainst da increase in zombies, especially if ye has any condition dat may require drugs. If ye don't, den walk out into a horde cos ye is gonna be dead soon enuff. Also take note dat most big cities have warehouses and distrubution centres, get to know where dey is right now an' let the dweebs fight it out to da death in da local omni-mart.

Wheels is always a good fing to have, but not ones ye is gonna have ta use fuel for. I recommend bikes, cos ye can go real fast wif dem as opposed ta skateboards or roller skates, plus ye can get dese fancy transformer style bikes dese days dat fold up, so keep dat in minds.

Now ye will also needs stuff ta drink. But Audley, says you, dey is zombies, dey aint gonna cause a problem to da water! WRONG! says Audley. Don't believe me? Go make yerself a cup o' coffee wif water from da Corpse River Ganjes and see how long ye can keep drinkin' it before ye vom like a maniac (unless ye is one of dem dudes dat lives off da Ganjes, in which case, bottoms up!) Zombies will be infestin' da water as well as da land, an if it's Aeger Cursor Mortuus ye has to deal wif, water supplies may be a transmission vector, so watch out! Get bottled water. Luckily most of da office spaces will have coolers, but it might be risky to attain, so as always use yer loaf!

Ye will need da followin' miscellaneous fings. Shoes, Ropes, Pillows, Plastic sheeting, At least 3 books, a can opener, matches an lighters, candles, bleach, tin foil, boot polish, thumbtacks and pens.

Find out why tomorrer.

Furtim Mortuus. Now ta avoid dis lot ye just has ta outsneak dem. Dese lazy scumbags usually sticks to dere own lil bit of territory, but remembers, dey does often pretends ta be dead, so make sures ye stay away from corpse piles an' stays in well lit areas. Obviously dis is gonna be difficult if da full blown zombie outbreak happens cos wifin a few days da power is gonna go off. Also, make sure ye are certain an area is clear before ye decides ta settle down in it, cos if ye is in da territory of a group of dese sneaky beasts, dere is very little chance ye will hear dem comin' for ye when ye sleep not ta mentions dat if dey knows ye is dere, dey will instinctively try an outfox ye wif dere feindish tactics. It should also be pointed out dat da furtives likes ta play wif yer emotions an' often leave babies an little kids alive as bait ta lure ye. So be alert an' remember, if it's not part of yer party it's not ta be trusted.

Alacritas Mortuus. Tricky. It really depends on da magicks or science used ta create dese monsters. Da only advice I can really gives ye is ta observe dere behaviours during da early days, dis mights be difficult considerin' da chaos an panic dat will ensue, but it really does pay ta know yer enemy. Da best fing about dis lot is dat whether they be created by occult means or by boffinology dere is usually a cure an' an antagonist who created dem so in dis case, GET YER BRAINS ON! Ye could stop it before it gets out of control.

Tomorrow...

Yer Stash.

Two.

Avoidance Tactics.

Pedes Mortuus is generally easy ta avoid. Dey can just about manage to clamber up flights of stairs and dey will cluster in numbers great enuff ta smash froo most blockades, but dey cannot climbs. So rooftops is yer best bet in stayin' clear. Problem wif dis is dat rooftops ain'ts da best place ta seek shelter an' keep provisions. So, ye needs ta fink about tents or stuff an collecting a big enuff stash before ye hole up. However if ye is in for da long haul, ye is gonna hafta, at some point, walk amongst dem. Dis shouldn't provides much problem if ye foller Audley's 2 simple rools.

Never stay in one place for more dan 48 hours.

Dis is VERY importants. Cos dey will sense ye up in yer hidey hole an da longer ye stay da more will come, so after 'bouts 2 days, dere is a good chance dat dere will be so many in da area dat it will be almost impossible ta move freely wifout a fight, an' trust me zombie mashin' is much more exhaustin' dan ye would assume.

Keep to large areas.

Yer local store might only be 100 feet away but it's enclosed an' not only might ye find a zombie surprise waitin' for ye, but ye might also get backed up into a siege. So makes da effort ta find where da nearest enormo-mart is, find a good exposed route which is as straight as possible an' keep yer eyes peeled.

Aeger Cursor Mortuus is a bit more tricky. Dese dudes can climb, jump an' dive inta windows, but dere enfusiams for mayhem is greater dan dere smarts, so it is probly wise ta make sure dat ye puts stuff in da way dat dey can get caught up on, since dere wounds seriously affect dere mobility. Razor wire is perfect, but failin' dat, lots of planks wif nails juttin' out will impede dese scumbags.

Dere swarms are usually less massive, but what dey lack in numbers dey make up for in sheer speed an' aggression, so ye does need ta put yer finkin' caps on when findin' a safe place. Since dere numbers tend ta be small, some place which is reinforced is probably suitable an' ye don'ts need ta worry too much 'bout how long you stay.

Audley Strange's Big Fantastic Guide to survivin' the Zombpocalypse.

(typed up verbatim by Webster)

Introduction.

First of alls, it's when not if. Gets it inta yer heads while ye has still gots 'em, one way or anudder da dead is gonna start risin' an dey is gonna eat all yer brains. Now for most of ye, dat won'ts make much of a difference, but for ye who finks to demselves “no way is I getting brainscoffed” den dis is da books for ye!

Now dere is a couple o' books out dere tellin' ye hows to survive in da zombpocalypse, but da most famous of dem is written by a doofus comedy writer an' a Yahwesayran to boots an lets me tell ye, I finks he gots paid by da zombie food corporation ta helps herd ye dullards inta da oncomin' gnashers of da billions of risen corpses. He goes on an on about how ta fights of da undeads wif whole varities of weapons an stuff which may seems practical, but is very likely ta gets ye munched along wif all da rest of ye monkeys.

Cos of da trend in dese negligent “self help” books, I decided ta jumps on da bandwagon wif me own, knowin' dat at least mines would offer REAL PRACTICAL ADVICE, insteads of blind assertions, extrapolations of fantasy an' just plain nonsense. So if ye is really serious about survivin'

(an lets face it, in a world where ye might witness yer loved ones getting' chewed up by swarms of dead eyed rotted kids wif flesh da colour of bruises an' stinkin' like an abattoir toilet, ye mights not wanna) den dis is definitely da BIG FANTASTIC guide for ye.

Part one.

Species of Zombie.

One. Overview

Dere is many classes of undead. From poseur Vampires ta depressin' Frankensteins, from da smartypant Lich to da common household ghost. However da zombie is different in many ways from dese. Da most important difference is dat ALL zombies has little in da way of brains (perhaps dats why dey always wanna eat yours hahahah). However dey is not totally brain dead an' while dey don'ts have da self preservation instinct of livin' reptilians, dey do seem to function at a very similar primal level. Dis is why serious damage to da brain stops most of 'em. However while dey is all similar in dis respect dere is a lot of differences worf notin'.

Da most common species mentioned in da media are da Pedes Mortuus, walking dead, which are characterised by dere slow stumbling or crawlin' movements. Dis type of zombie is, on its own, not really a problem, but dey do tends (like all species of zombie) ta cluster in huge numbers an' apart from dere occassional groanin' is very quiet.

Da second most well known species is Aeger Cursor Mortuus. Da Infected Runnin' Dead. While dese beasties is quick off da mark, dere high pitched howlin' an' feral roars to alert dere buddies to da location of warm flesh an brains can be heards at quite a distance, and is usually so loud as to exceed 120 decibels.

However dere are two udder species of zombie which while less publicised are still potentially da type which will one day roam da planet wif da intent of dinin' on yer lungs.

Furtim Mortuus. Da Sneaky Dead. Dis type o' zombie is, as it's name suggests, sneaky. While not smart, dey do tend ta keep to da shadows an' dark places an' is often only seen at nights (generally very briefly) Dey doesn't have any vocalisations an often lie amongst actual deads waitin' for stupid victims.

Alacritas Mortuus. Da Animated Dead. Dere is some discussion about dis lot. Some say dey should not even be categorised as zombies and should go in da Frankensteins group since dey is usually brought ta life by black scientists or dark magicians. Dey can be programmed to perform lots o' tasks an' usually dey is considered tools radder dan antagonists. However!!!!!! Audley has seen dese critters replicate expotentially due to clever viral programmin' and as such considers dem as much a danger as any natural zombie species.

I's back after exceedin' me bandwidf. So a quick updates.

Yesterday Next part one is finished so Monday sees me back on me own website after da Webster's got tired of me pesterin' him 'bouts self indulgent drivel.  Yes folks Undeadageddon has arrived, dis is anudder daft hypocryphal story, a bit o fun befores we return to Part Two of "Throwin' Pennies at da Damned", "Abyss Road". which will probably bore ye as much as it did me when to endure Muer's long winded polysyllabic madness. Still dere is some big fights an' bloodshed in it so it's not totally dull.

Also along wif undeadageddon I shall be, on dis page, writin' an appendix on how ta survive da Zompocalypse. Remember folks it's when not if, so take Audley's advice an' ye won't end up scoffed by yer 3 month ol' zombie brat!

See ya on Mondays.

Auds

I gots suspicious when I founds da Websters suitcase was stashed wif holiday stuff an' dey kept tryin' ta gets me ta eat a “fudge cake” wif chunks of fudge dat looked almost exactly like sleepin' pills. Well dey weren'ts gonna gets da better of me, so I ates dat stupid cake just ta spites dem.

My plan worked. When I woked up 48 hours later dey was gone! Dey left dis curious note.

Kuredu! I hoped I'd never hear dat word agains. It was ol' Hopkins, da Curator at da Secret Library dat once told me dat Kuredu was a local dialect version of Great Cthulhu himselfs an' dat dere was still a very active cult out dere in da Indian Ocean. Da Websters, bein' especially dim an' gullible was no doubts gonna end up on da authentic cannibal buffet menu, if I didn't rescue dem.

I checked on of da low cost Airlines (Da Webster wos stoopid enuff ta leave his emergency credit card at homes, but his limit wouldn't reach to extra special first class on Fancy Airlines) cos I needed ta go quickly, I wos already runnin' late. Luckily I found a flight dat had so many stop offs and crossed several international date lines before reaching Kuredu, dat it actually went backs in time

I gots to Male' a couple of hours before dey did, den I pretended I was a tourist and got me camera outs and got a sea plane taxi to da resort itself.

Look at dis... is its a photo of some dark temple to da Elder Gods? Let's hope so.

When we touched down on Kuredu itself, I was struck by how tranquil and relaxin' everyfin' seemed to be. Da place was well kept, I guess it had ta be since it was disguised as a luxury holiday resort. I means looks at dis, dis was da track to da reception. Donts it look nice?

Da heat, jetlag, friendly staff an' me still half dozed wif potent narcotics made me lose me edge, I started buyin' into da whole “paradise” scam dat da evil Cthulhu Cult was up to. I was havin' a cups of herbal tea wif added ginger sittin' in a big chair wif a gentle breeze waftin' in, makin' pleasant noises on da bamboo wind chimes. I hads almost forgotten why I came and lazily looked up ta look at da wind chimes.

Den my bloods ran cold. It was just a little fing, somefin' da unsuspectin' tourist would glance at an' never question, but to da trained eye, to someone likes me who's got 46% Cthulhu mythos skill an' has never failed a San roll, da evidence was conclusive. Da cult really was active behinds da scenes.

For da Cthulhu Cult is not, as some fink, hidden, on da contrary, where dey is active dey is active in plain sight, if only one knows how to spot dere symbols and signs.

I does, and so when me eyes glanced at an innocent lookin' wind chime to witness one of dere most potent and commonly used symbols, I knew danger lay ahead. For what I saw on dat wind chime was none udder dan da Elder Sign. A Glyph of da Great Old Ones demselves. Da sign says dat da cult is ready, and has it's eye upon da stars, waiting for da alignment to be right for da gate to open an' for Great Cthulhu to rise from da sea an' rule da World once more.

As luck would have its, it turned out da stars were gonna be right that night! I hads to get vestigatin' an quick!

I first snuck up to a large buildin' seemin'ly owned by a former Marine Botanist called Senior Dolcé, who had been driven mad investigatin' BLOOP an' now spent his days eatin' imported hallucinogenic toads an' injectin' himself wif heroin. His Cabana (as he called it) was filled wif weird objects from all over da oceans. Dese giant floatin' luminous shells was washed up on da beach after da big Tsunami a few years back. Coincidence? Perhaps. However when you can get close enough to dese to listen, dey seems to sing. Mostly it soun's a lot like James Brown or Jackie Wilson but none the less creepy for it.

Dolcé could mix up a splendid cocktail but he'd lost most of his wits in fightin' da horrors of da ancient ones an' could no more help me dan a stick of celery could. I left him to his mad ramblin's and decided to continue to da Jetty.

At dat point Da Websters had turned up an' I couldn't lets dem know I was abouts. So when dey also arrived at da Jetty I had ta hide untils dey was out of sight.

Dis is wheres I hid. While I was hidin' I noticed dat dere was strange goin's on in da water, in fact, I was been followed by a F.I.B. (Fish in Black). It trieds to pretend dat it was just some normal fish in black just so happenin' to be sneakin' abouts behind me. However it changed its tune whens I turned da camera ons it. Look!

Da fish knew it had been rumbled an' sped off, no doubt to relay da news dat I was on to dem alls.

After abouts forty minutes I knew da coast was clear an' snuck outs from da Jetty back onto da island where I heards a commotions in da trees. At first I wasn't gonna 'vestigate buts den I realised wot I was seein'!

Dats right! It's one of da trees from da Hit TV Show “LOST”.It was currently filmin' a documentary about Treesplotation movies. Needless to say it did not heed me dire warnings. I left it dere pretendin' it knew somethin' bout Timberyard Gore movies before it gots too dark. Hackin' an slashin' through about forty maybe fifty inches of dense jungle, I suddenly founds what I was lookin' for. Remnants. Fore dere in da middle of dis holiday resort, far from da eyes of even da exceptionally nosey tourist, is an ancient structure, an artifact of a prehuman time, an outpost of the Corpse City of R'lyeh, where no doubt da priests of Cthulhu would be sacrificin' da Websters to dere evil God.

I heards several voices behinds me and mad-dashed backs into da forest before I got caughts. All I hads to do nows was find da high priesty wizard guy an stop him before night fells.

Uh-oh!

From da East came unearthly sounds as da cult got inta action. I fleds fast as I could from da Outpost area, determined ta get back to da main reception, perhaps dere was a phone I could use to

alerts someone wif! However I soon realised dat in da dark, da road weren't for a romantic holiday stroll, on no, when nights came down it was a pavement into TERRORS!!! In da distance I could just makes out da evil flamin' torches of da cultists an' hear da foul rhythmic drummin'. It wasn't long before I heards screamin'.

It was dead scary, but soons I was in a clearin' an' in da distance I could see a camp in da distance.

It was fenced off an' it looked like it might be military. I wents closer to take a photo an' could makes out a runway an a couple of planes. AND! A NUKE!

Then suddenly I was discovered! At first I heard just a couple o' voices but then soon dere was a whole bunch of dem after me. At first I guessed it would be da Cthulhu Cultists but I was wrong!

It was a bunch of Yahwehsaryan Airforce guys. When dey caught me dey explained dat, Yes da stars was right an' yes Cthulhu was about to rise, but da whole island was a fake island to lure da Old One right into da path of some kind of science magic fing where he'd end up getting Nuked and destroyed forever. Everyone had been escorted off da island hours before except military an' a few reformed cultists wif a bit of dark magic knowledge. Dey said I was welcome to watch an' take photos if I wanted. How could I pass up da chance. I would gets to see Da Great One after all and get to watch da extinction of his race. Sounds like a good evenin' to me.

Fing is... just den me camera charge ran outs, so I can't show ye da fearsome awesomeness of Great Cthulhu, which is a pity cos you should have seen da place, insane men on fire runnin' about laughin', Da Nuke hits da fing and BLAAAAAM everyfin' goes white. When I opened me eyes it I was on da Beach, da next mornin'.

Da dark menace had been thwarted an' all signs of da cult an' da soldiers had gones. It tooks me a while ta realise dat dat was because I'd been blown onto anudder island nearby, where all da tourists had been havin' a great time. I spied da Websters an' sneaked into dere room, I knew they'd be pleased to see me.

DA End.

Oh yeah. Cthulhu couldn't properly recombine after dat, but da incident did make up for 4 days or really major storms over Asia an' China from does four days up to da solstice. Strange fing was dat on da soltice da thick dark clouds simply vanished. Dis Octoface return to his watery tomb? Dunno, buts one day, I'll finds out da troof!!!

Audley.