Sunday, 10 July 2011

Michael Bay vs Rupert Murdoch: Clash Of The Twats


I can't believe almost every blog includes my visiting the cinema, but, in the words of West Coast Ghetto Heisman, Dub C, "Uh oh! Here we go again!"


I went to see Transformers: Dark Of The Moon. I've now seen all three movies in the franchise, returning like an inquisitive index finger to a ripening scab. That's over seven hours (!) of no discernible plot, explosions, slow motion sequences, more explosions, gratuitous ass shots, ever more explosions and cringe inducing dialogue permanently set to "CONSTANT SHOUTING!". All of which should make for the perfect popcorn experience, shouldn't it? Shouldn't it?!? However, in the hands of Mr Bay you feel like the poor stunt driver who was injured during its production: permanently brain damaged with one eye stitched shut.


Mr Bay describes his style of filmmaking as "Fucking the frame". I spent the whole movie thinking "Damn! Can I at least get a blow job, or an enthusiastic tongue between my oiled buttocks to get me excited first?" But no. No foreplay. It's all about the penetration with Michael. A sinister penetration which recalls Robert De Niro as Max Cady in Cape Fear. Bay is laughing at us as he rips at our flesh with his teeth. How else to explain the execrable Rosie Huntington-Whiteley in her film debut? Her bee-stung lips are more animated than she is and, undoubtedly, pre-assembled flat pack furniture in Swedish pine would have proved far less wooden. She manages to make Megan Fox appear as accomplished as Dame Judi Dench. Bay doesn't care though. He's essentially saying "My movies are just about blowing stuff up. I don't even need actors. Look!" That's how little he thinks of us as the audience.


Fans of the movies (I know! Incredible. How they stay upright is beyond me) claim that Transformers: Dark Of The Moon is better than Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen, which is like me saying that my tonsillectomy was a better experience than having my wisdom teeth out.


The most annoying thing though isn't the interminable asinine juvenility, it's the caption: "Middle East: Illegal Nuclear Site", which appears just before Bumblebee and the rest of his Autobot homeboys start kicking a little raghead ass.


What the - What?!? Is Michael Bay doing politics?!?


I felt so dirty I left the cinema vowing to wipe myself down with the last ever edition of the News Of The World. I'm kidding. I've never bought that filthy little rag, its sister paper The Sun or subscribed to Sky, so my conscience is entirely clear. Well, at least when it comes to the funding of Murdoch's empire. I remember being in the studio recording a track with guitar legend Jim Davies (he of The Prodigy fame) who arrived one morning a tad upset that he'd received a volley of abuse from a newsagent for purchasing the latter publication. David Goldring, who was laying down beats, explained the revulsion in Liverpool for the paper. It dates back to the 1989 Hillsborough disaster and the headline:

“The Truth.

Some fans picked pockets of victims

Some fans urinated on the brave cops

Some fans beat up PC giving kiss of life.”

A policeman was quoted in the article claiming that Liverpool fans "were openly urinating on us and the bodies of the dead.” David summarised succinctly, "So we were picking the pockets of our own dead friends and families and pissing on their corpses, yeah?" The Sun have yet to apologise. Kelvin McKenzie even stated recently that he was happy to stand behind the veracity of the story.


The Milly Dowler revelations came as no surprise to those who have nothing but utter contempt for Mr Murdoch, his twisted world view and his hijacking of a party which was supposed to represent all of us who have to go to work tomorrow. The leader of the Labour Party can't even support workers voting to strike for fear of how it would play in the press. The only thing separating us from my bound and shackled forebears is our right to withdraw our labour.


When Our Tone became Labour leader in 1994 he flew across the globe to pay homage to Big Rupe, assuring him he'd play by his rules. It's been revealed that he spoke to Rupe on three occasions in the days leading up to the Iraq invasion on March 11th, 13th and the 19th, which was the day before the invasion itself. Rupert said at the time, "I think Tony is being extraordinarily courageous and strong... It's not easy to do that living in a party which is largely composed of people who have a knee-jerk anti-Americanism and are sort of pacifist. But he's shown great guts…"


Yep. "Great guts" to go to war on a stack of lies and rape a country of its resources. And he's so brazen he had no fear in referring to that three letter word our governments are far too scared to whisper. "The greatest thing to come out of this for the world economy...would be $20 a barrel for oil. That's bigger than any tax cut in any country." So it's not like it's a bad thing.


The same fella recently ran a story saying that DJ Gadaffi issued his troops with Viagra, the easier to commit mass rape. The motivation for this lie being the same three letter word. The same fella who claims to support our brave boys overseas runs an organisation which hacks the 'phones of dead soldiers' families.


I'm looking forward to him scapegoating his sacked journalists as workshy benefit scroungers. The question now is whether or not people are disgusted enough by these recent revelations to make Rupert's gleaming edifice of shit crumble to dust. I doubt it though. Boys like Page 3 don't they, eh? They like their boobs, don't they, eh? And it's just a bit of fun, innit? Phwoar, eh?


PPPPPPHHHHHHHWOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!


Which, I believe, was pretty much the first draft of the script for Transformers: Dark Of The Moon.

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