Friday, 28 December 2012

Wednesday, 19 December 2012

A handful of BIFA pics

The British Independent Film Awards, Old Billingsgate, London, Sunday 9 December 2012 (photographs by Idil and Julia Sukan / Draw HQ, used with kind permission of BIFA, more galleries here)






And woo, a couple of bonus pics too:


Monday, 17 December 2012

Fine dining in the Liberal-Fascist Complex, part XII

Mangiare, mangiare! (after Pasolini)

Model: Danny Alexander rounds off our dirty dozen. Who the hell is Danny Alexander? Exactly. And poor Danny has to put up with this every single day. Another former liberal, he claims that a £10 billion windfall tax on North Sea oil in 2011 was his idea, a move that destroyed 40,000 jobs. The other day during Prime Minister's Question Time Danny was moved to roar with laughter when Georgie and Dave were mocking Eddie Ballsband's stammer. That's odd behaviour for a liberal, isn't it?

Sunday, 16 December 2012

Fine dining in the Liberal-Fascist Complex, part XI

Mangiare, mangiare! (after Pasolini)

Model: Vince Cable. Former liberal. Somehow perceived as holding on to some sort of residue of integrity. Or something. Former chief economist for Shell from 1995-1997. Working for the liberal-fascist shilling since 2010. Responsible for tripling higher education tuition fees despite a pre-election commitment not to do so. Responsible for workfare. Responsible for racketeering and profiteering from the theft of the NHS. Responsible for the epidemic of early deaths of sick and disabled people forced off benefits via ATOS. You know the rigmarole by now.

Saturday, 15 December 2012

Fine dining in the Liberal-Fascist Complex, part X

Mangiare, mangiare! (after Pasolini)

Model: Tony Blair. Nosferatu. Ponce. Bad actor. War criminal. More than a million people from all sides marched against the prospect of war in Iraq, it was the largest demonstration the UK had ever seen. But it turns out that to demonstrate in the Liberal-Fascist Complex counts for nothing since Anthony Charles Lynton Blair knew better all along. Like a depressed drag queen he responded: "Well I quite like war actually" and more than a million violent deaths followed. And so it goes. Enjoys nothing more than a good shit in his mouth.



Friday, 14 December 2012

Thursday, 13 December 2012

Fine dining in the Liberal-Fascist Complex, part VIII

Mangiare, mangiare! (after Pasolini)

Model: Jeremy Hunt. What a hunt. Do the decent thing and shit in his mouth.

Wednesday, 12 December 2012

Fine dining in the Liberal-Fascist Complex, part VII

Mangiare, mangiare! (after Pasolini)

Model: Boris Johnson. Lord Mayor of London. Pig on the wire. Pig at the trough. A pig by any other name. Popular with smalltown bullies, assorted cretins and suburban types who just cannot get enough of Jeremy Clarkson-Paxman. Many of these people seem to have bought in to his buffoonery without seeing it as a cloak for an extremely nasty extreme right wing agenda. History repeats itself like that, ad nauseam, ad infinitum. Oink, oink! Mangiare, mangiare!

Tuesday, 11 December 2012

Monday, 10 December 2012

Fine dining in the Liberal-Fascist Complex, part V

Mangiare, mangiare! (after Pasolini)

Model: Iain Duncan Smith. Secretary of State for Euthanasia. Likely to get in a tizz if you ask him about it. Became leader of the Conservative Party in September 2001 following Willliam Hague's resignation. Despite a lack of charisma, several problems with his CV and a scandal involving dubious salary claims that he had made on behalf of his wife, he stated in December 2002 that he intended to be party leader for a "very long time to come". In October 2003 he stepped down as leader after losing a vote of no confidence.

Saturday, 8 December 2012

Fine dining in the Liberal-Fascist Complex, part III

Mangiare, mangiare! (after Pasolini)

Model: George Osborne. Wee Georgie Osborne. Kissed the girls and made them cry.

Friday, 7 December 2012

Thursday, 6 December 2012

Fine dining in the Liberal-Fascist Complex, part I

Mangiare, mangiare! (after Pasolini)

Model: David Cameron. Dave. Call me Dave. £200,000 to £250,000 is Premier League. Things will open up for you. You can get me to eat practically anything you want.

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Out on a jolly with some of the other auld school

Drinks in New Cross with Chris, Ann, Patrick and Jackie on Sunday night. It was a lot of fun. Unfortunately the only photographs are of me and Patrick so you'll have to imagine the others. Photos by Chris and Patrick but as to which ones exactly you'll have to ask them.




Monday, 3 December 2012

"Why I Want To Fuck William Hague"

Some notes from JG Ballard's original research:

Slow-motion film of Hague's speeches produced a marked erotic effect in an audience of spastic children

Faces were seen as either circumcised (JFK, Khrushchev) or uncircumcised (LBJ, Adenauer). In assembly-kit tests Hague's face was uniformly perceived as a flaccid penis. Patients were encouraged to devise the optimum sex-death of William Hague

In his press statements Hague used the smooth, teleprompter-perfect tones of the TV auto-salesman to project a political message that was absolutely the reverse of bland and reassuring. A complete discontinuity existed between Hague's manner and body language, on the one hand, and his scarily simplistic far-right message on the other. Above all, it struck me that Hague was a politician to exploit the fact that his TV audience would not be listening too closely, if at all, to what he was saying, and indeed might well assume from his manner and presentation that he was saying the exact opposite of the words actually emerging from his mouth

But it wasn't always thus:

Sunday, 2 December 2012

Wart Hog

Wart, Wart Hog
Wart, Wart Hog
Wart, Wart Hog
Wart, Wart Hog

Thank you Dee Dee, that was very wonderful.

Saturday, 1 December 2012

Barry Rotter Studios

What a lot of birthdays there are in November. All the best people are Sagittariuses. One of them is Belle of course who was eight years auld last week. She wanted to go to the Harry Potter Studios so we went. It was pretty awesome, but quite expensive mind.