list two

but who really cares what i liked? where's the interest in that? what didn't i like

i'm not going to name individual poets because they're fragile wee souls and at the end of a day reading a poem doesn't take much time or drain that much from your life. that said, particularly towards the end of the year, i read some of the worst poetry i've seen in my life. i'd expect better from teenage school children, i've read much better by teenage school children! so bad has it been i've been considering a book burning. i welcome the credit crunch if, at the very least, it silences the complacent, slovenly, selfish voices of the middle classes. everyone else should reclaim the word and riot in the streets

books. not much better. the british equivalent of gialli seems woefully absent. something along the lines of a hardboiled midsummer murders if you're lucky. a word for the genre. shit. and heaven preserve me from anything along the lines of i grew a lemon tree while travelling with gypses of kazakhstan and bought a house in bulgaria. are there any books like this that are any good? only the ones where the people actually do something. in which case they're probably too busy working to think about writing down their 'insights' now that they've spent the money they've made speculating. a pyre of such books should be made and nigella lawson and all her ilk driven thru the streets to be burnt upon them. okay, not burnt, seared, in a light hand reared olive oil with bunny's ears. cook books!? are you kidding me. a plague on all their houses

films. this bearing in mind i'm an afficionado of shit films. yes i have watched the crow:wicked prayer (yes, it was dreadful) and yes, i have watched much of the oeuvre of the pony tailed pudding that is steven segal. but...

charley wilson's war. hang your head in shame tom hanks. not quite the right wing wank fest that is red dawn but they made that up! we've funded a war in afghanistan. ho ho ho! i was aghast. then there's the 'genius' that is michel gondry. yes mr gondry i truly loved eternal sunshine of the spotless mind you the same could not be said of the misogynistic tit odyssey that was science of sleep or the turgid stink bomb that was be kind rewind. no it could not. then there was no country for old men and there will be blood. cruelly boring films, teasing the viewer with flickers of what might have been but instead drowning them in leaden layers of I'M TELLING YOU SOMETHING. yeah, i'm telling you something too, i'm sure the neighbours can hear me shouting it...

as for the dylan biopic, and i use the term loosely, i'm not there. all the reasons dewey cox was good = all the reasons i'm not there was unwatchable. and really, it takes a talent of some depth to make the dylan even more of a cock than he actually is. using richard gere to do it tho, that'll work. but using midgets in dream sequences. are you joking todd haynes!!!! awful, worst film of the year by a country mile but still not anything like the bloated shit fest that was the fountain.

will i go on about it again? why not. at least i'm not there even if it was less than the sum of its not very impressive parts seemed at least to be doing something, even if that something was to be actually employing richard gere or making me want to punch that 'rimbaud' character almost as much as i wanted to punch richard ashcroft in the drugs don't work video. no, i just want to punch richard ashcroft. a lot. but that's by the by, at least i'm not there didn't scar me with its badness. the fountain on the other hand... perhaps it's interdimensionally bad. i was watching event horizon the other night and it came to me that the fountain may have slipped through a hole in imaginative space to insult us with its presence. but some nice backdrops i've heard it said. yes, yes, it's biological photography, like someone's ejaculated into weak tea.

so, yet again, the worst film in the world. EVER. the fountain. aronofsky, for you, there is a special hell