A likkle piece of this and likkle piece of that

The Subconscious

The Subconscious // I Don’t Know About Girls

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Girls: The new ‘IT’ series (which coincidentally has Roy from the I.T Crowd appearing in it)

Girls? I don’t know if I like them and I’m unsure if I could be one. You maybe reading this thinking a) Has he had a homosexual epiphany after years of denial in an all-boys comprehensive? or b) Is this the second coming of Ru Paul? The answer to both questions is a fortunate no but my dormant intrigue with the opposite sex has been slightly engineered by letting the retinas retreat to the first season of Lena Dunham’s Girls in that slug-like sequence just after Christmas waiting for the annual celebration of premature ejaculation that is New Year.

I’ll say fair play to her. The last woman that had me fixated was Scorpio from Gladiators who did an autograph session in Woolworths on Walthamstow Market when I was six. I happily persevered to the end to grasp a sense of the hyperbole and while all the acclaim wasn’t warranted, there was a familiarity with the Greenpoint,Brooklyn setting (akin to Dalston, the ‘Ditch’ and Brixton), the obligatory alfresco ankle minimalists and the worldly British girl whose so ‘like totally free-spirited’ and saunters around in getup so dodgy it’d make Lily Savage look normal. It resonates with fluid twenty-somethings (not exclusively females) who simultaneously sell artisan bread and search for sustainable job vacancies on the web.

Dunham’s character Hannah is brave, apologetic and overtly laid bare (If her copious sex scenes had a Russian voiceover, you’d be hitting your TV thinking did your old man really order the XXX package). She’s struggling to be a writer (who isn’t ha), has had a weirdo fella who casually walloped her (He also must have gas bills going through the roof as the geezer is forever topless like a Page 3 model in his flat) and somehow her working and seemingly stable mate Marnie takes pity on Hannah’s rent being long overdue like an injury to Van Persie.

It captures an abyss which many graduates are sucked into and finagle a smokescreen on social networks where everything is fine but I feel it succinctly concerns a privileged white select (most of the lead cast have a famous parent in the entertainment and arts industry) and there are much more richer tales to be told bar a generic discourse. It’s not a bad start and we shouldn’t forget Dunham is drawing on personal experiences that are forever political and remaining unsolved in real time.

Forthcoming home-grown comedy series Drifters has a similar all-female lead cast but I’ll be interested to see how it portrays the post-uni epoch and working in jobs far removed from the rhetoric that had your pits sweating in a hot rush to complete a personal statement for your UCAS application.

To the rebellious birds inked on your arm and honesty in front and behind the lens, I salute you Lena, even if I don’t find you that funny, I may just admit to liking Girls one day.

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NOLLYWOOD COMEDY // AKI & PAW PAW SING WESTLIFE

Anyone growing up in an African household will know religion is paramount even if the Sunday service extends far beyond an Eastenders omnibus.

Wearing your best clobber once a week is imperative too (alas I always had my wits about me playing football in the car park with a Coke Can during the summer season of First Holy Communions, Christenings and Weddings, your old man couldn’t give a damn but if your old dear catches you get ready for a public service announcement and a subsequent 9 hit combo a la Street Fighter’s Chun Li on your candy ass)

This clip from the film Show Bobo features two of Africa’s most authentic hobbits that Peter Jackson failed to cast AGAIN for his forthcoming prequel.  No doubt their time will come.

Aki and Popo are two boys from the States who are sent back to Nigeria to learn more about the motherland. However, as always with Dwight and Andy things don’t go according to plan as their dear auntie would like, with the pair repeatedly showing off their bravado claiming that the native food is poisonous and even using scissors to cut through some soup.

This reminds me of a time when my mum was in the choir and hush had fallen over the church as there was a break for meditation. Most switched off their microphones beside them but true to task she didn’t and I seized my chance in the spotlight. This is the club banger that I sang which unsurprisingly started an impromptu session of who can suck air through their molars the loudest.

To this day I don’t know what came over me…stupid Fruit Salad monster.

For more Nollywood and Ghallywood films, check out iROKOtv.com

Enjoy.

 

 


FRESH ISH // SUMMER ISSUE OF LIVE MAGAZINE [SUMMER 2012]


The new summer edition of LIVE Magazine – the national quarterly yout publication based in Brixton was launched on Tuesday just gone and I’m not one usually for sentiments but I am proud to see the progression and development after doing a hike not to far off climbing Everest up those stairs to the third floor nearly a year ago

Read the online version here and tweet about it too. Alternatively, pick up a physical copy and read the goodness with this issue’s cover star Gemma Cairney talking about her forthcoming riots documentary on BBC Three which was written by the lovely Tej.

Watch the behind the scenes video of the cover shoot below.

Big up to @LiveMagUK each and every. Salute.


SPORT // Transfer Targets In The Twilight

The domestic league season maybe finally over across Europe but with the forthcoming European Championships in Eastern Europe and Olympic Football at London 2012. This summer promises to keep the cultured class of footballer off Twitter and seek a permanent hiatus away from your local Peri-Peri poultry outlet.

Yet, for some seasoned Englishmen who have dined on pork scratchings and chorizo while enjoying a career at home and abroad. The next few months will be a tense period as they decide whether to write a final chapter in their careers, move nearer to Korea or career off the white cliffs of Dover. We take a look at some players who were coincidently named in Sven Goran Eriksson’s European Championship squad for the finals in Portugal eight years ago and have been left (or are about to be) orphaned like Oli-ver, Oli-ver, Oli-ver Twist.

Owen Hargreaves

Gary Neville sharing punditry tips with Owen for his now vacant Sky Sports role. It kills two birds with one stone, considering he’s pretty much sat on his ass watching rather than playing for the last three seasons or so.

This shaggy-haired fella initially got stick from En-ger-land fans for plying his trade in the Bundesliga with Bayern (an Englishman in another league – oh the horror!) but his zippy performance at World Cup 2006 lead to him being named England Player of the Year. His move to United wasn’t as fruitful as many had hoped, so there was some surprise when noisy neighbours City quickly snapped him up following these aerobic audition clips. After one Premier League appearance this season, Hargreaves walked onto the podium with his triumphant teammates to pithily celebrate the title win but deep down in his Adam’s apple, he was well aware of his fate regardless.

Possible Destination: A trip to the Barber’s and then Gunther Von Hagen’s laboratory.

Darius Vassell

Forgetting to turn the oven off once is an exception but twice in a matter of weeks for the insurance payout is a bit fishy brother…double dip season in full effect.

Dar-i-us or Daroose as fans of Turkish club Ankaragucu affectionately chanted and welcomed him like Eddie Murphy’s character Crown Prince of Zamunda in Coming To America, was arguably the most famous Darius to have ever lived behind this previously pony-tailed plonker. I personally never rated him. Pocket-sized with a bit of pace and 20p lollipops as his party trick, this goatee rocking striker came off the same conveyor belt at the West Midlands football factory which nurtured Julian Joachim, Dean Sturridge and Michael Ricketts.

Possible Destination: Walk into the nearest charity shop, purchase a turtleneck jumper and velvet blazer and join a Motown tribute band in Solihull.

Michael Owen

That equine in the background has stayed fresher and probably won more race meetings than I ever have…I’ll just keep this fake grin going until the pap says stop being in vogue.

*In rudeboy voice* Man remembers (talking in the third person is always a staple even social networking has cottoned on now) back in the daaaaaay when my man (just to reiterate Michael Owen has never been in a civil partnership) caressed that ball from halfway with the outside of his right Umbro boot, blurted into the opposition area quicker than Kofi running to the toilet after a line of Shittoh and shaped up his body to curl the ball into the top bin. After all his early goal scoring exploits, in hindsight the boyhood Everton fan should probably have stayed with their Merseyside neighbours. A lethal finisher who could put away a Rustler’s burger in the back of his gob without gamma radiation, the injury he suffered in Cologne against Sweden has robbed England and subsequent club sides of a natural footballer who should be in the prime of his career. I still won’t forgive him for this which then lead to this outburst and resulted in this sack of shite.

Possible Destination:  Apple HQ to work on a range of patented devices which warms football and rugby players derrieres in the winter season.

Emile Heskey

The man of many talents does the “heel and toe” in his days at the only stadium in the world which counts empty crisp packets as part of the official attendance.

“Heskey goes to Nando’s and puts Peri-Peri on dem dry toes. Nah x3. Wahey. Nah x3. Wahey” Well I guess he’s run out of ideas after scratching imaginary vinyl in his former trademark celebrations  and acting as a role model to former fellow Gilbert Street striker Ade Akinbiyi. Call it player power or what have you but recently sacked Villa gaffer Alex Mcleish had a mare when he put our Emile in the hole against Wolves early in the season. Maybe if the game was an evening kickoff and the floodlights suddenly went, it probably would have been a boss idea. Built like a blick shithouse and scruffy tekkers to boot, he’s like an admirable window-washer at the Great Cambridge Roundabout, cleans up well occasionally but can’t command a respectable fee once the job is done.

Possible Destination: Leicester…to retire.

Ledley King

Man’s feelin’ a bit wavy STILL. I don’t care if Harry sees me in this state,those injections and dem needle dere are long…CHUSS.

Last but not least is this loyal geezer whose future is still up in the air. Christened by some crayola sniffing supporters as Sir, he would have left White Hart Lane yonks ago had his well publicised knee predicament hadn’t prevented him from barely doing one weekly training session and lengths at the club’s training ground. A route into the echelons of European giants AC or Madrid would have been certain.

Possible Destination: The Beeb’s Final Score sofa to replace Garth Crooks finally.

Special mention to Stuart Taylor who will shortly be bringing an end to the world’s longest holiday in Middle Eastlands and Marton Flop Fulop whose last day heroics gifted Arsenal an automatic Champions League place but also led to an immediate release from West Bromwich. Always here to help a hero.

By Christian Adofo

Ciao.


HOMEGROWN COMEDY // WHERE’S MY SUPERMALT

If there was ever a starting point for a Nollywood meets London comedy movie, alongside the never-ending West African debate about the origins of Jollof Rice, this cult cold beverage is up for grabs too.

This is for anyone whose had a better chance of seeing a dragon or dodo in the flesh rather than an auntie passing some malt.

Big up to TKB Visuals


Stop Think Win with Live Magazine and TFL

I have a confession to make (no I’m not gay for the 47th time) my love affair with gaming died when my younger sibling reversed his go- kart into my Sega Mega Drive once upon a time. Moreover,when I became addicted to playing as Ajax on Football Manager back in ’04…Trabelsi,Zlatan,Wesley S,VDV, (before he joined that team in riot central) Litmanen and the younger heads like Emmanuelson and Maduro. Age of Empires became my forte too but we’ll keep that hushed.

Shoot em up’s and sweating your gonads whilst doing some choreographed flex on the Wii is all very well but games with an educational undertone need not be taxing in your downtime. Stop Think Win http://www.live-magazine.co.uk/stopthinkwin/ is a new game designed to promote road safety awareness amongst teenagers. The premise of the game is for you to be “ah ah ah ah Staying Alive” (Too easy to resist sorry) and if you manage to do so you’ll have the chance of winning some prizes which include:

So get involved and play the game via http://www.live-magazine.co.uk/stopthinkwin/ Keep your garms fresh and don’t get licked down by oncoming traffic to stand the chance of winning something noice.

Let us know how you get on by tweeting: @LiveMagUk #StopThinkWin

Safe.


FREE SPEECH ON BBC THREE [THIS WEDNESDAY]

Feel like your shouting to the top and no one hears your take on issues? Fighting for a cause but it’s forever on pause? (Sorry)

If so, take your opportunity to get involved in FREE SPEECH, a new live debate show which begins this Wednesday on BBC THREE.

The show hosted by Norwich City’s 3rd biggest fan (behind Delia and Stephen Fry Fly) Jake Humphrey will give viewers the chance to air their laundry in a more sanitised and interactive fashion than Jeremy Bile.

The first show will be coming live from East London on Weds at 10pm and Free Speech will be travelling around the UK each month to discuss current affairs which will more than likely filter down to affect the young demographic in one way or another.

In the meantime, enjoy the special viral for the show below featuring Dead Poet’s Mark Grist and MC Mixy.

Follow Free Speech on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/BBCFreeSpeech and Twitter @BBCFreeSpeech

For further information, click ere