The Beautiful Game

"ooo ahhh oooo ahhh ooo ahhh Cannttooona ooo ahhh Cantona"..

Obsession. Passion. Love. Football.

It's been with me since childhood, in the background of every thought, pulsating through the blood stream, deep in the genes of English and Irish heritage, an uncontrolable passion, posssesing my mind.

It all started as a six year old. At that age kids have a tendancy to follow the crowd. My best friend Charlotte was a Manchester United supporter, so naturally I followed suit. She had a reason for following the club, her dad was a Notherner born and bred. But I didn't have any right to support them, I grew up in a small suburb of London, Worcester Park. The closest football ground to my home would have been Sutton United or Kingstonian, but out of the big boys I had a choice of Wimbledon, Fulham, Palace or even Chelsea.  I suppose this makes me a traitor. A glory hunter! A plastic Manc. I've heard it all over the last twenty something years ...

My Dad is a Chelsea fan, a season ticket holder, he has followed the club since he came over to England from Ireland as boy. It's his dads team, his cousins team and as he often tells me, apparently, it should be my team.
I think it was in 1992 -1993 that I got my first shirt. Dad reluctantly bought it for me, he had a Chelsea one in back up.

My first real memories of United come in the 93-94 season. A season that saw United win the domestic double in their 19th consecutive season in the top flight. It was a season that saw Eric Cantona score 25 goals in all competitions, with a series of dazling displays including a double against Chelsea in the fa cup final. It's a funny story, because my Dad was doing a lot at this time to put me off this "appauling" choice of football team. We made a bargain, the winner of the 1994 fa cup final decides my allegiance for the rest of my life... The first frenchman to take a penalty in a cup final vs. the 1st Russian goal keeper in a cup final. But can Eric make his mark ...Hughes ... yesss Mark Hughes again .. oh and on side it's Ince he's away and cross unselfish McClairrrrrr!!!!!!!! The rest is history.

It's a love affair that has blossomed over the years. My 12 year old self saw us win the fa cup at the old Wembley, treble season. The day England won the Rugby world cup I was at Old trafford watching a pretty dismal performance against blackburn, a Berbatov master class against fulham, several terrible performances at Stamford Bridge, observed by a very happy daddy. We've had some greats over the years Giggs, Scholes, Van Nistelrooy, Cole, Yorke, Sheringham, Solskjaer, Beckham, Neville, Irwin, Staam, Keane, Schemeichel, Hughes, McClair, Robson, Bruce, Ronaldo and not forgetting the legends Charlton, Best and Law to name a mere few. But who can forget the pure class of Cantona, the sublime passing, the arrogance, the brilliance of the finishing, there will never be anything that touches that class again, so i leave you with just that. Le King.

The Good the Bad and the Fugly – Hanna Montana’s American Dream by Sophie Flynn

After months of immersing myself in anything a child of the noughties may be into, as a source for my experiment. Hannah Montana, Pussy cat Dolls, Hell, I’ve even been watching the Wizards of Waverley place.

I noticed a change in me … (not a magical one) it was like all restrictions were gone, I was young confident and free. I was going on X factor with my friend and we were going to win it. I was going to be signed up by Simon Cowell and taken to America. Where I’d have like a trillion fans and I’d guest star on glee. I’d be famous and live in LA in a huge mansion. I’d be best friends with Rhianna and we’d go to awesome parties and have loads of friends. And I’d be dating Olly Murs, until I cheated on him with a member of One Direction.

Yes, my inner noughties child was screaming to get out. She was confident, stylish and she looked a little bit like Nicole Scherzinger, mostly she wanted designer brands, hair extensions and pink stilettos.

You see she was ready to turn on ‘The Hills’... Willingly. She may even have come in from work to switch on ‘The only Way is Essex’ … Willingly. But in reality she was only eight years old and none of these things were important, or they shouldn’t have been.

Today I was asked by someone I’d never met before, whether I was American. Apparently, I had a slight twang to my voice.

In reality I’m someone more likely to have a union flag tattooed on my bottom than a star spangled banner tattooed on my hiney. I was slightly gobsmacked by the comment and immediately adjusted my tone into being a little bit more, bollocks, arse, tits, bloody hell, cup of tea. British.

But, you can’t ignore the facts, life experience changes you, so had I been brain washed to be more like an American? Had I picked up on any other characteristics? I was certainly more patriotic, I had to resist shouting “USA, USA, USA” whilst watching England play football on Sunday night. But in all seriousness, I had definitely picked up on some of the mannerisms of Hanna Montana’s crew, attitude, posture even hand gestures. I have to say there is nothing more annoying than a child wiggling their hand in your face and saying “no you didn’t.”

In reality we are getting more Anglo-American culturally and that’s not just our children. And along with that comes a huge variety of good and bad. Good = patriotic, successful at sport, business and innovation, Bad = obese, body conscious, problems with gun crime, drugs, violence and internet crime. All I can say for definite after this experiment is that the children of this country are going to be a lot more diverse in ten years time. Make your own mind up on whether you think it’s good, bad or godamm Fugly.

'The Human Centipede' Are critics right to squash it like a bug? By Tasman Hogan.

Often horror films can take it too far…

Every so often a director comes along who has had enough of the usual, (decapitation and knife wounds) and decides to create something entirely original. It’s rare to come across work that stands out from the crowd in a genre consumed by ideological boundaries. 2009 saw the ugly birth of something completely unique; ‘The Human Centipede.’

Upon hearing the name first of all, one might expect a story which rivals that of ‘Godzilla’ or some other creature of astronomical size, but ‘The Human Centipede’ is far from far-fetched. It tells the story of a mad surgeon, whose experience separating conjoined twins for a living has kick-started his desire to create an actual human centipede, by attaching three people together…mouth to anus.

Yes, you heard me correctly. It’s not exactly one for the kids, that’s for sure. Nor is it even one for adults, in my opinion. Infact, it’s not exactly one for anybody, because how anybody can gain pleasure from watching forced defecation is beyond me. Indeed it was a film which caused quite a rumble in the cinematic world because it was so grotesque. Commencing with two lost women who knock on the door of Dr Heiter (the crazed surgeon) seeking refuge after a break-down (it’s always a break down, isn’t it?), things take a sharp turn when the doctor drugs the two of them, planning to use them as part of his ‘experiment.’ Firstly, knocking on the door of a lunatic surgeon whose penetrative eyes and downright scary grimace hint at his rather disturbing ‘hobbies,’ it was never going to be a good idea for the two girls. No wonder people fear hospitals and the operating room.

Heiter eventually manages to fulfil his desire of attaching the two girls and another Japanese male tourist together, mouth to anus (excuse me while I gag.) His plan however, of creating a single digestive system between them, does not work much to his dismay (I’m sure we’re all gutted for him.)

It’s all rather cheery, isn’t it? As if a first film wasn’t enough to make you wretch, director Tom Six decided to add a sequel, ‘The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence)’. Upon discussing the second instalment, he said that it would make the first film ‘look like My Little Pony.’ It was due to erupt on the scene this year, but was banned by the BBFC (British Board of Film Classification) because of its totally inappropriate and explicit content. Indeed, the second film is said to contain obscene amounts of sexual violence, as the story revolves around an antagonist who becomes sexually obsessed with a DVD of the first movie, and imagines putting the whole centipede idea into practice. It joins an extensive list of other banned films including ‘The Exorcist’ and ‘Cannibal Holocaust.’

The concept of prohibiting particular films because of their content has been something of a ‘wobbly’ and controversial topic for a while now. One side of the argument states that by displaying scenes of a sanguineous nature within films, it is possible that some people in the real world may be incited to follow their example. It begs the question ‘can we blame real life violence on entertainment?’ Sure enough, films seem to be growing even more violent as time passes. The ‘Saw’ franchise, which many view as one of the quintessential examples of bloodshed and gore conveyed through motion picture, has achieved worldwide recognition. Fifty years ago, no one would have dared to create something so dastardly and sordid. Does that mean our society is growing sicker by the day? Does the fact that people can gain so much enjoyment from films which show humans sliced and diced like vegetables, mean that there is a seediness to society which has only arisen during the last twenty years or so? Despite my colourfully damning vocabulary used to describe the ‘Saw’ franchise for example, I cannot hide the fact that I’ve watched six out of the seven movies in total. Granted, I’ve fast-forwarded certain elements (namely the amputation of an arm, and the twisting of a leg so far that it breaks) and I’ve always had a cushion at hand in case of emergencies, but they still excite me all the more. I’m damned if I know why.

And so, ‘The Human Centipede’ could, to many critics, pave the way for other abominable crimes like the one it displays. All it takes is for somebody who is ‘one sandwich short of a picnic’ (aka mentally unstable) to watch the movie and/or its sequel, and decide that they want to re-create what has been shown on the screen. Admittedly, it might seem like a ‘long shot’ that it could happen, but it is definitely possible. With all the terrorism, knife crime and murder which fill the front pages of our newspapers with their sinister details and frightening figures every day, it doesn’t seem so far-fetched. Therefore for many people, it seems perfectly decent that the BBFC have banned the sequel to ‘The Human Centipede’ and I am certain that many are of the opinion that the infiltration of the first instalment is something which shouldn’t have been permitted either.

Alas! With every argument, there’s always another side (that’s the beauty of living in a society of freedom). Many are under the impression that the ban has been applied in vain. Thanks to a nifty tool we like to call the Internet, it seems highly likely that in the future, if someone wants to find a link to watch ‘The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence)’, they would most certainly be able to. Cyberspace answers to no-one, and it is very difficult to place a restraint on something which is not tangible. So it’s good news for all the fifteen year old teeny boppers who have access to WiFi, and want to ‘up’ their cool. I would expect that at some point soon, it’ll be readily available, provided that other countries don’t choose to follow the UK’s lead with its prohibition.

For many, it should not be the role of corporate organisations to decide what we can and cannot view. Living in a free society should mean that people must be able to make up their own minds about what they want to see. Director Tom Six voiced his opinions about the ban, saying ‘My dear people it is a f****ing MOVIE. It is all fictional. Not real. It is all make-belief. It is art. Give people their own choice to watch it or not. If people can't handle or like my movies they just don't watch them. If people like my movies they have to be able to see it any time, anywhere also in the UK.” Indeed, it coincides with a lot of people’s opinions on the ban. If people want to be grossed out and horrified by the image of others being sewn together through their gastrointestinal systems, then by all means let them! What was that song by Sheryl Crow? ‘If it makes you happy… it can’t be that bad…?’

Moving on…
Moreover, it might seem unjust to blame all real life violence on entertainment. Just because horror films are banned, doesn’t mean that all the criminals in the world are going to disappear. We cannot blame cinema for all the chaos and debacle which erupts cyclically. Whether ‘The Human Centipede II’ is viewed in cinemas or not, we’d still find ourselves with an incalculable amount of lawbreakers and murderers on our hands, which, quite frankly, is apparent in any society in any part of the world.

Having weighed up the pros and cons, I find myself thinking that the ban was applied for good reason. If the first film was anything to go by, and having been told that in comparison to the sequel it was ‘tame,’ my belief is that the franchise really is TOO SICK for society. Attempting to find any redeeming qualities within the film has been fruitless. It does not teach anything (apart from what not to do when your car breaks down) and if there were any kind of message for society, it is certainly engulfed and lost within a monstrous bloodbath of unnecessary carnage. If, having read this, you’re still game for the horror experience of a lifetime, then by all means, purchase a copy of the first instalment! I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to look at a centipede the same way again mind you (or food for that matter.)

NO MORE KEN – by Jack Holmes.

In case you hadn’t heard in a few decades the earth is going to be ruled and populated entirely by the female race. Men will be the proles if anything; something to be detested and made to pay for all of their mistakes in life.

Not paying the child support, never being excited enough about going to see the in-laws, that kind of thing. Well maybe that’s not completely accurate but I have to admit that’s what came to mind when I was told to write this feature.
“Soon women are going to be able to have babies completely without men,” the editors said. “We want you to write a feature from a male’s perspective about what this means.”

Once I had picked my quivering self from the floor and wiped the cold sweat from my brow I agreed to do it. “Babies without men?” I thought. “How completely preposterous!” So, I followed the internet links they had sent me and sure enough women will be able to have babies without men. It appears that men, such as myself, have got ten years max to live it up before we’re pretty much a race of completely useless entities – or our sex organs at least.

THE PROCEDURE . . .
So, I’m sure you’re all wondering how the hell this is possible; how women are able to have babies on their own. Well have a professor of the University of Newcastle on Tyne to thank for that. Apparently, professor Karim and his team have found a way to turn bone marrow into sperm. So far they have managed to make undeveloped sperm cells (spermatagonia) from the bone marrow of a male, but they believe they can do the same with female bone marrow. But, and this is a big ‘but’ and also quite a scary ‘but’, any children produced from a female/ female sperm egg combination can only be female. So basically, if this catches on, we men are goners.

Still, spermatagonial sperm cells are not going to be wiping out the male population on their own. First they need to be grown into big, strong, mature sperm and this says Nayernia, “could take up to five years.” Then once their old enough to face the big world, they are tested for their ability to penetrate the shell of a little hamster’s egg.
Despite their being something very wrong about the coupling of human sperm and a hamster egg, if all goes to plan Professor Nayernia could be paving the way to a very different tomorrow.

When this report was released, people, quite rightly, immediately thought of the possibilities for lesbian women; they would at last be able to have their very own children with no third party involved. This is a bonus for both parents and children because when it’s born the parents will now that the child is completely theirs.
It’s good for the child because once it’s grown up there won’t be any of that tracking down your lost father nonsense.

So, sounds pretty good huh? To some women, the eradication of men from life on earth probably doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. No more useless other halves slumped in-front of the football as they single-handedly forget your birthday and wee all over the toilet seat.

ETHICAL PROBLEMS
There are some pretty big hurdles that Nayernia and friends are going to have to jump too, some of them religious, some ethical and some legal.

The church is against the concept of same – sex parents (no surprises there then) saying that children need male and female role models in their lives. In an interview with the daily mail, Mike judge of the ‘Christian Institute faith group’ said that the project flies in the face of research showing that children do best when raised a married mixed-sex couple. In a slightly higher profile case, Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, the leader of the Catholic Church in England and Wales, said that lesbians using IVF were “profoundly wrong” and “undermined the place of a father in a child’s life.” Unfortunately for Mr. Judge and the Cardinal, after a day sifting through scientific journals, essays and reports on same sex parents, I could only find information saying that children raised in a same sex parent households didn’t turn out any differently from children in conventional entities.

So that’s the Christians dealt with, now for the ethical constraints. Firstly, apart from the fact that any child conceived of female sperm and egg can only be female, when the same thing was done with mice , the baby mice that came about as a result of the experiment had severe health problems. Now even the fundamentalist sect of pro life activists out there are going to look the other way whilst there’s a 100% chance of the baby having severe health problems. And doesn’t that take the joy out of being a parent knowing your child will be unhealthy and, in a way, knowing what sex it’s going to be? Now, I’m not a parent but I think that some of the excitement of becoming one would be not knowing. Not knowing if it’s a girl or a boy. Not knowing if it’ll be a blonde or a brunette. Not knowing what they’ll become when they grow up.

Finally there’s the small thing of completely doing away with sex. Now surely this can be purely a male qualm as I’m sure I’m not the only one in bed who had a good time when it happens. I mean, what’s sexy about bone marrow? It makes me wonder whether the lab coats behind this project are doing it simply to get out of that embarrassing first shag. Yes, their brainy genes will still be passed on to a son or a daughter. But only time can tell whether it will work, if people would actually do it and whether men and women in high places will allow people to do it. Still, all these things permitting, planet Earth could be a bloke free zone within a few decades.

I like to think that you’d miss us after a while, even if it was just a little bit. Things like our lovable, “I-didn’t-really-mean-it” slightly sexist remarks about being blonde and our sharing of “silly things the other half said this weekend.”
My favourite ever has to be “What’s Shakespeare’s second name again?” It’s the simple things that show us that the world wouldn’t be the same without men. You wouldn’t be able to at our failed attempts to cook microwaveable curry, or our strange reluctance to say “I love you” when were with the lads because it make us feel “gay.”
See? A world without men would be unbearable yes?

Hopefully I’m not the only one who secretly hopes this fad won’t catch on. I’m all for the lesbian women of the world being able to have their own children without men interfering. I think that anyone planning to under go this treatment, when it becomes possible, should think long and hard about it. Just thinking about it gives me visions of toothless, grinning hillbillies saying things like, “Ma Mom’s my dad.” Just think about the child.

Maybe in a few years time when things like that are the norm, when it’s quite alright to see genetically modified people walking down the street. Maybe then it will be completely and utterly expectable. But not just yet, if men are to be eradicated then you can just for now, make use of us for all our reproductive needs, lesbian or not.

VAJAZZLED by Sophie Flynn.

I was sitting at my boyfriend’s house on a regular Sunday afternoon when his niece came up to me looking upset. We’ve all seen it, that little girl grimace and quivering lip. I half heartedly expected her to come out with a phrase like, “Uncle Piers was mean to me, he hit me,” or “ I dropped my bracelet down a drain,” or the all time favourite among kids aged seven to eleven, “I fell off my bike and cut my knee…wahhhhhhh.” No … This time I was horrified by the words that materialized, she drew back a breath and mumbled, “I’m too fat.” I sat there for a moment wondering what to say, before asking her who told her that? I wanted to hunt them down, put them in a choker hold and tomb stone them off a cliff.
It got me thinking, where did all this madness start?! Women’s glossy magazines, MTV, The Pussy Cat Dolls, Disney channel? Who’s to blame for this nonsense?

What about ‘The Only Way is Essex,’ the popular TV show was in the spotlight recently when the press reported the selling of ‘vajazzle’ to children. What is ‘vajazzle?’ Well it's only jewellery, for your genitalia. Has the world gone absolutely mad? Since when did I need jewellery on my fanny and as for children… lets NOT go there.

Could we blame ‘Hannah Montana?’ A generation of children have watched her grow up, living her dream on screen with pink hair and a pop career? Maybe Montana’s been vajazzled, who knows. How about Disney? Are they turning kids into sex symbols far too early? Only recently a tanning parlour in Essex was reported to be spray tanning children as young as two. Pop culture makes it impossible to avoid the likes of body image and the music industry is as sexed up as ever. Are we sexualizing our kids with song lyrics and sexy clothing?
There’s only one way to get inside the head of a seven year old. That’s right. I’m going to become one. Unfortunately I haven’t got a time machine. But I have got the medium to completely immerse myself in every single one of the above. ‘The Pussy Cat Dolls’, ‘Hannah Montana,’ women’s lifestyle magazines and ‘The only way is Essex.’ Whether I come out the other side alive is yet to be known, hopefully not vajazzled.

TBC.

Take a walk in my shoes - by Jordana Thomas.

If inanimate items could be your friends, my shoes would be the best. I first got my only-edition-brown-and-pink converse from America in the spring of 2005. I wasn't too sure about them when I first tried them 0n, but they were just so comfortable. At the time I was working in central London and somehow I got away with wearing them under my smart trousers. So incidentally these shoes have seen everything I have for the last three years.

I was good to them for months, until I got some news at work. My boyfriend called me to confess he had cheated on me. So I collected myself from the desk and calmly walked to the bathroom. I kicked a toilet so hard I broke two of my littlest toes, then took my shoes off to look at my feet and cried all over them. They've held me as my world crumbled, they've been on at many numerous hospital appointments, they've seen loved ones suffer, they peek out of my bag at funerals.

I've also had the best memories of my life in these shoes. Meeting my best friend and all our adventures, travelling, starting university, first kisses, even clubbing, my shoes have been there. These aren't just shoes they are part of me, they are adorned with signatures of my loved ones and bored doodles. Every hole tells a story.
I've now bought new converse, but can't bring myself to wear them. We've changed so much yet we've both stayed the same. Shoes though you now damage my feet and don't stop the cold, I might have to stop wearing you but I can never get rid of you.