Breaking Porn

So last night I went to see the long awaited Breaking Dawn.  Fans will claim that they were excited to see the latest instalment in the franchise because in terms of content, Stephanie Meyer has gone freakin’ bananas and just invented crazy storyline possibilities all over the place (We are all under the illusion that our lovely Edward is as fertile as a vasectomy patient, but no! He has a few vampire/human hybrids left in him yet!).  However, I think any honest person will simply admit that we all went to see Robert Pattinson.

Or rather, Robert Pattinson having sex.

We crammed into the cinema (Full again, despite the film being released over a week ago now,) amongst a diverse range of ages, from your spotty teenager to your middle aged mother.  Even though there was the pretence we were all there for the dramatics, it was blatantly obvious as soon as the film began that we were all waiting for one particular scene. In fact, if someone had shouted “Just bone her already,” I would not have been shocked. In fact, I may have responded with “Hear, hear!”

A lot of people who appear to harbour an intense hate for the Twilight saga generally tend to fall into two categories;

1)      Die hard Harry Potter fans who are truly mortified that anyone should ever write a best seller after J.K.Rowling. SACRILEGE!

2)      Actual film/book buffs who appreciate good acting/writing.

It tends to get quite annoying. When I start talking about Twilight, I don’t want someone to launch into how it is a typical teenage angst novel with no plausible plot or storyline. I don’t want to hear about how the acting is mediocre at best.  I don’t go into the cinema expecting Oscar winning performances, but anyone with eyes can safely contest to the fact that Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart set fire to the screens (And my ovaries,) with all their awkward drama, and that Stephanie Meyer, whilst perhaps not the best writer ever Amen, can definitely write a story that will have you turning the pages in rapture. There is a fantastic blend of normality and abnormality captured in the book. The emotions that simmer between the protagonists is tangible, and so very typical of teenage lust.  We’ve all felt it, and I don’t think it can be described with flowery words and overt expressions. Their love is ordinary and extraordinary in the same time, and I think it is a quiet genius that has helped Meyer to perfect this.  So much so that you sometimes forget that Edward is a vampire. Their struggles appear genuine, and as for the emphasis on sex, so what? I think we can all agree that people, females in particular, are encouraged to save their virginity for someone ‘special’ ; the last time I checked, Edward is about as ‘special’ as a guy can get!

After that brief (!) rant about the literary criticism, I’ll get to the crux of the issue and perhaps what made me a tiny bit confused: the rating.  As a 12A, you’d expect allusion to sex, maybe some heavy make-out scenes.  It would leave parents the possible ‘get out of jail free’ card, maybe so they could turn to their daughter or son and casually remark, “Oh look, Edward and Bella are playing the lying down game naked. Bella’s actually really bad at it.”  I know we all wanted a steamy sex scene, and much as I did enjoy the bizarre flash of K Stew’s nipple (Just in case we had any doubts that they naked in bed...naked,) I was convinced that the only reason that film was not a 15 was because they knew if they bumped up the age restriction, they would successfully eliminate half of their target market. Yes, it appears girls who have not yet hit puberty/realised they have a uterus at all are also affected by the mysterious form of “Rob Rays” that he gives off.

Other than that, the film really did deliver well in terms of effects. Taylor Lautner as Jacob is still perpetually irritating to me (He looks unfortunately like he’s about to sneeze all the time), but as a wolf he was truly spectacular. I particularly liked the generic “I just punched a wolf” noise supplied for most of Emmett’s attacks. To the director’s credit, my heart beat was pounding in all the right places, and I was reminded that people’s biggest downfall when it comes to enjoying the film is learning to accept the slight cheesiness and just not caring! The film also wins points for a majorly cute baby. As for the soundtrack, well, as always, it’s excellently brooding.  Sleeping At Last’s “Turning Pages” was so beautiful and apt that it made me cry in the cinema.  It doesn’t matter whether you’re reading this and you hate Twilight and all it stands for, there is no denying that the song is beautiful.

In conclusion, irrespective of Jasper’s constant look of constipation, Bella’s disgusting vomiting and Rob Pattinson’s freakishly long toes, I really did think that this was the best film so far.

Oh, and by the way...

TEAM EDWARD! *FANGIRLS*

Reality TV, has killed the industry...

Reality TV is simultaneously the most loved and hated topic for the British Public.  After yet another series of “Celebrity” Big Brother (Reality TV’s equivalent of herpes), the nation is once again divided.  Reality TV gets to the best of us, but when you break the ‘purpose’ of each show down, it’s really quite hilarious.

Big Brother is the prime example. Putting a number of random people that you previously had no knowledge of (This can be applied to the celebrity addition too,) into a house and watching them slowly driving each other bonkers for want of normality and personal space, whilst making the unlucky few complete some truly bizarre tasks.  Whilst we can all agree Nicky Graham’s multiple breakdowns and Glyn’s “egg song” were endlessly amusing, ultimately, we’re feeding someone’s narcissism. We treat the cross section of people that end up in the house as representations of the British public, when in actual reality, they are among some of the most bizarre categories – reason enough for television bosses to cram them into the house. They’ll make “good television” of course. It doesn’t matter if they sodomise the beer bottle! It’s good viewing.

Another terrific example, and probably one of my favourites is “I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!”, as the irony that the people we adore because we have elevated them to celebrity status become more/less revered by the public when we see how capable they are at being “normal people”. People who will eat widgety grubs to make sure the rest of their camp don’t starve that night.  People who have to survive without a shower for a month.  People who...are getting paid around 50 k to do that show.  Who will come out of ‘slumming’ it richer, because for one month they’ve eaten only beans and rice. Oh the pain! The sacrifice! 

The word celebrity has always been confusing to me – especially the reasons behind why we award certain individuals that status – and it becomes even more confusing when the whole glamorous idea of them is inverted. What is it that we want to see from celebrities?

A prime example is musicians. Recently, I attended Hop Farm festival, and who should be playing but Morrisey.  I’m not a particular fan anyway, and even if I had been, I would have jumped ship quite quickly when I saw that when performing, because he was a vegetarian, he wanted all food stalls displaying meat on their signs to be covered.  Any respect I did have for him quickly accompanied his credibility down a grubby portaloo.  There’s supporting your cause and being comfortable educating people about your beliefs and the alternative choices out there, and then there’s being an idiot.  But it did raise a question – what do we really want from our celebrities? We don’t want ‘organic’ rock stars like Chris Martin and his weirdly flexible wife Gwynnie Paltrow, because they’re accused of being “too fake”.  Going “too far” to avoid their stereotype.  Matt Bellamy, front man of Muse was branded reckless by some at Reading festival when he threw his guitar across the stage.  Stars like Morrisey – obviously proud of their beliefs – are accused of shoving them down our throats. Non descript celebs who don’t really stand for anything never make it big.

What is it about the human nature that spurs us to find out what normality is? Why haven’t we figured out yet that regardless of how “larger than life” a person may seem as a character on the screen, we are all only human and EVERYTHING is real. In fact, everything bar reality TV. These people still need to use the bathroom, need to eat , need to sleep. They all wake up of a morning with sleep in their eyes and bad breath.  

As a race, we have yet to realise that no-one is ‘special’.  Many are talented, certainly, excelling in certain professions that are going to rake in the cash, but no-one is exempt from the taxes life takes on our body.

And I wonder if we make the choice to ignore that willingly. Escapism has always been favoured by our nation.  In wartime Britain, thousands flocked to the cinemas to shut off to the world for an hour or two.  To forget reality.  How strange it seems that years down the line, our idea of escaping our own reality is to study someone else in a simulated environment we deem as ‘real’.  The idea is boggling to me, but we need to believe that some people are better than us and deserve to adored.  We all have our idols, and the famed saying is that you should never meet your own personal inspiration.

And why?

Because you might just fall back up the rabbit hole you’ve created for yourself.  You might realise that actually, things aren’t what they seem.  They’re a whole lot less than it.

(Sing the title to "As long as he needs me" from Oliver. Credit to Jest End)

CLASS B CITIZENS?

Lately, wandering around in my own world, my little bubble has been frequently permeated by a waft of cannabis. Prior to my current relationship (A band member, shall we say...green fingered?) I was blissfully ignorant to the common use of the drug.

Immediately, upon reading the word drug, I bet you've all grimaced and thought of some dirty junkie frantically looking for any available vein to get their latest fix. If a person smoking a spliff wandered down the street of an evening, I bet we'd all shake our heads and throw him a disapproving look for - gasp - exposing our children to substance misuse.

Now, lets remodel the scenario. Instead, change the joint to a bottle of wine, the person on their way to a friends house for a dinner party.  Do we recoil in horror? No. Of course we don't. In fact, we may even allow ourselves to think them sophisticated.

Alcohol can be just as addictive as a drug. Anyone who has witnessed an alcohol related death knows it is often a slow and painful process for everyone involved, with lots of emotional ups and downs before the final culmination. For many, sufferers of alcoholism fall off the wagon many times, and eventually face death after conquering their demons, but not the lasting scars left on their bodies. A drug related death is similar. And yet, the stepping stones to these problems are treated so very differently in this country. People who entertain the prospect of weed are immediately ostracised from the bracket of "good moral conduct" because they have succumbed to the world of the 'illegal drug'.

As someone with little to no real experience of the drug before this year, I too was under the impression that anyone who smoked weed regularly should immediately be treated with caution. Their sense of right and wrong was clearly skewed and therefore, they were destined to be failures in life. Right?

And yet, the more time I spend in the company of the people who smoke cannabis, the more I find myself questioning this stereotype. As a scientific person, I am in no way using this piece of writing to claim cannabis has no adverse side effects. I'm well aware smoking anything that burns at such a high temperature is no good for you in the long run. As with everything, when taken excessively, the bad begins to outweigh the good. The human body is not meant to process tobacco smoke, but neither was it built to withstand 12 WKDs and 40 Big Macs. Or the chlamydia you catch following the WKD induced bad decision.

I'm not sanctifying weed by a long shot. I'm just curious as to what makes it so bad, essentially. As someone who doesn't smoke the drug myself, I would have to force myself to get high to evaluate the true meaning of "being stoned", in order to better understand the stigma attached. For now, I'll have to go on my observations. Have I ever seen anyone smoke a joint and get in a fight? No. Have I ever seen anyone high be verbally abusive/loud/generally antisocial? No. When I ask myself these questions about alcohol, I can't answer no to a single one of them.

The sad reality is, on any given night out in my area, I have seen many drunkards lay into wives/friends/other bystanders, and generally just make other people's lives difficult. I'm not saying these behavioral portraits can be applied to everyone. I'm just trying to get a picture of why my view - previously so anti-drugs - has changed so much. Some may say it is largely my boyfriend's influence - maybe even me trying to justify my romantic interest's choice of extra curricular activities. Again, I don't smoke it, and neither have I ever felt pressured to by him or his friends. Arguably, you could also say being around it so much in a casual context has taken away the shock factor. But then, wouldn't I have stopped thinking about it so much and just got stuck in myself?

I don't know what answer I'm looking to find, if any at all. All I do know is that for most things in life, in my opinion, there has always been a definitive sense of black or white. Yes or no.  Right or wrong. Lately, regarding cannabis use, there have been many shades of grey. And the colour spectrum continues to expand the more I think about it.

Hmm...