Saturdays with Orestes – 1

Opa! I’m Orestes Xistos and I welcome y’all philos and philis to my section. Best taken with pisstaking prevention pills.

Howdy, minions and squishy lackeys, this is your cow overlord, the one, the twice-deceased, non-diseased and the inimitable rawk-uous leader of this bunch of sorry excuses for writers. It is who moves all the levers and pulleys in this sorry excuse of a blog.

I am interjecting on this shitty little blog because it is I, Orestes Xistos, the only one who knows the nooks and crannies of this place and I think it’s time I write more often, in this, my only way of saying things. That is: ranting. And since my rants have no place anywhere in this place that does “arts and music”, I’ve been assigned the deadly slot of Saturdays for your entertaining. Hey, it killed quite a few 80s sitcoms, maybe it will kill me.

So how’s tricks? Is your wallet in place? Have you been consuming copious amounts of lactose-heavy products? If not, WHY NOT, YOU COMMIE?

Anyways, let’s round up what got people buzzing about this week and rant about it:

Charlie Sheen.

Surprise, surprise: Charlie Sheen’s the new lynchpin of the Internet. “Oh, LOL, let’s pick on him” “OMFG, he’s so crazy!” Buncha bullies, go buy yourself a pillow and knock it and leave the dude alone, ok? He was in “Hot Shots Part Deux”, so all is forgiven. At least he’s trying to get over the addiction. How’s your trolling/cyberbullying going, uh? Yeah, thought so. I should know.

Massive hugs. But get well soon or I’ll sort ye out.

Radiohead rips you off.

The hype over Radiohead’s rather lacking collection of songs (album my tail) has waxed and waned. More waned, actually, proving that all Marketing schools should teach the ways of Yorke et al (1985) instead of the ramblings of Stephen Covey.

In fact, I’ll be kicking Radiohead myself. Here’s my take on what happened behind the making of Tree Limbs of Royalty part 1:

Phil: Sweet, my album, Familia, got good reviews.

Thom: Oi, go back behind the seat and keep being my drum machine.

Phil: But, Thom, I dunno about what we’ve done. We are not recording The Eraser Part 2.

Thom: Shut it…wait a minute, do I smell Kit Kat in your breath? TRAITOR!

Phil: It was only one bite.

Thom: You’re out of the band! I’ll replace you with a TR-909.

Phil: As if someone’s gonna notice in King Limbs

Don’t take me wrong, I like King of limbs, specially the song where you get the same drum pattern all the flippin’ time and Thom Yorke moaning slowly and soothingly, goin’ all Aaaah Aaah Ah.  Oh, that’ll be the whole album then. No likey this newspaper album. Where’s the sports section, anyways? Page 3? Ah, that’ll be ‘Feral’, the only song that sounds like all the band overdosed in soma.

I’ll take two ‘Separators’ and ‘Codex’ and eat wheat happily.

Arcade Fire won awards, eh?

No one reviewed Radiohead‘s album at the site except me. Can I get a cookie? Oh, ok. Now that I see the archives, we don’t have a review for Arcade Fire either. Is this a conspiracy? Duh! I’ll let you know when I finish my review of Limp Bizkit‘s Gold Cobra. They still got it. You can quote me** on this. Mooyah!

Also, I’m team Wayne Coyne, baby!

Oscars out touch?

Y’all need to get over the fact that The Oscars are so out of touch with what’s good and not and concentrate on something else to blather about. Nothing interrupts my free-range grazing in Crookes Valley Park as a bunch of sixth formers rambling about ‘The Social Network’ getting ignored while their homemade bongs emanate the sweet acrid smell of oregano.

No, wait, it’s just the staff from “creating”. Move on. Poseurs.

Our cow Molly got robbed!

I’m still fuming about Our cow Molly not winning an award at a recent award ceremony (!). Why are us cows being ignored? Should I understand that there is a bias against bovines in the award industry? Haven’t we give you enough milk and sour feelings to make enough cheese to sustain your paragraphs and advertisements? I for one speak for all plushy cows in the world and the moment will come when we put our hooves down and chase you down the streets, Corrida de Pamplona style. While we eat an ice cream. We cows can multitask***.

Go buy yourself one of their ice creams. They rule.

Rupert Murdoch is evil!

Speaking of multitask, what’ the ruddy deal with Murdoch messing with Sky? What’s next, the BBC? If I see Glenn Beck and Bill O’Reilly popping in Doctor Who, I’m gonna go Silurian on them! Murdoch is probably still fuming about hi paywall for The Times not working as expected (link). I’m sure you did a sound decision, Rupert me ol’ china.

Ipad 2.

I wave my udders to you, early adopters. You’ve become a clique of insecure people that need the latest gizmo with a new shiny polished exterior to feel like you belong. Look at yourselves at the mirror. You see it? You don’t need an iPad. You’re cool the way you are.  You belong. You don’t need a gadget to define you. Don’t fall for this thing. You want something to bolster your creativity? Buy some sheets of paper and write. Write ’til the pencils breaks or the cows come home.

And on that note, I’m off to graze the pastures near Cineworld. Maybe I’ll finally be able to nick an Iron Man 2 poster? Robert Downey Jr. , he’s so sexy.

My name is Orestes and I RickRoll you while you eat your sausage roll. And before you post an angry comment, I do refer you to the “categories”, see if you find something interesting there.

*It’s a 50-50 album. ‘Separator’ of opinions, you might say.

**Actually, no. Can’t stand Limp Bizkit.

***If only we could write.

About the author: Orestes got kicked of Pitchfork for being too negative. Figures.

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