New Website!

I’ve started a new blog (with a few posts from this one imported into it) at www.jamesbuckley.ie!

 

The Making Of (in haiku form for some reason)

Filming is finished
on my video project.
These are the out-takes.

Luckily my friend
was not in a starring role
as he was just mugged.

They didn’t take his
things but rearranged his face.
They had a dog too.

I am pleased to say
his trademark dimples are still
more or less intact.

The muggers weren’t caught,
but the attacking dog was.
It was put to sleep.

This video is
presented for your viewing
pleasure. Please enjoy.

 

Lions and Tigers and Gays, Oh My

Is 'homophonic' a word? Or would it be 'homophonous'?

As far as I know, everyone who reads this blog knows me personally (if you don’t, leave a comment!) and so you’ll know that for the past 7 months or so, I’ve been presenting an LGBT-themed radio show on DCUfm on Tuesday nights at 9 (with Ciarán as producer).

It’s gets a very modest number of listeners, as do most of the station’s shows. We’re restricted to broadcasting on the internet at the moment, which severely limits the number of listeners.

Last night I was at Prhomo, the gay night at Basebar on Wicklow Street. (In case you’re wondering, I was drinking Guinness rather than G&T. I’ve grown very fond of Guinness and its coffee/chocolatety goodness) But out in the smoking area I met a young man, whose name escapes me at the moment, who knew a few of my friends.

He asked me what my name was, and I told him ‘James’. He said “James….. Buckley? You do that radio thing. Homophonic, is it?”. I told him I was indeed James Buckley! For about 20 seconds I felt like a celebrity! It was wonderful!

Except that he hadn’t ever listened to the programme. And he goes to DCU, and knows loads of my friends, so it wasn’t really that unusual that he had heard of me. Yeah, my bubble was quickly burst. But still!….?

Other than that, it was a distinctly average night. It was supposed to be a neon/UV theme with facepaints and

"Ooh, I'm Free!"

glowsticks. There was just one UV lamp, very disappointing facepaints (which didn’t glow under the UV, they were just paints, badly applied paints at that) and it was packed full of the worst type of gay guys. The type that give gays a bad name.

There’s one guy who I’ve seen there a few times, and had the displeasure of communicating with on a few occasions. I say ‘communicating’ because he doesn’t speak. Presumably because of the loud music, he uses a bizarre form of mime.

Imagine if Marcel Marceau were reincarnated as an extremely camp teenager, who wears neon-pink tank tops and so much fake tan that he looks like he might be mixed race; half caucasian, half oompah loompah.

Then imagine him miming, gesturing wildly, winking and grimacing as he tries to tell you something.

Those types are enough to make you hate gay people. And it’s not just him, there are loads of them. And they’re all there every week. Dublin is a small city, and the gay scene is even smaller, so you get to know the regulars and give them nicknames to keep track of them all. For instance, there’s the infamous Wez, Wez-lookalike #1, Wez-lookalike #2, Creepy-asian-guy, Formely-known-as-Prince-guy and the aforementioned Mister Mime to name but a few.

Terrible stuff. It’s enough to make you turn to the vah-jay-jay. The fajita. The chicken katsu curry (that was the codeword for a hot girl on the premises at my former place of employment), more specifically the katsu curry at Wagamama’s. Apparently it’s to die for.

 

3D is the faddiest fad I’ve ever fadded along with

I’ve seen a handful of films in 3D which have left me with the firm opinion that 3D film will never become a mainstream medium. It has too many inherent flaws.

The guy in the middle loves it, but the guy on right hates it like me.

I don’t know if it’s like this for everyone, but when I’ve watched films in 3D there’s always a faint double-image. It’s not too noticable except when there’s a lot of fast motion happening. Like when Alice falls down the rabbit hole (or the fight scene near the end that went on for an eternity). The whole thing turns into a blur. Similarly, the double-image ruins any fine detail in the picture. The beautifully rendered scenery of Avatar lost most of it’s intricate detail.

Secondly, you can’t sit in the front half of the cinema if you don’t want your eyes to bleed. I had to sit in the front row for Alice in Wonderland (because we all had to sit together for some reason, watching a film in silence is so indusive to conversation after all. Fuck’s sake) and god it was awful. It was a disappointing film too. When the Hatter did that dance at the end, a part of me died. Along with a part of my retina.

And what does 3D really add to the experience? Granted, the 3D effect works quite well but I certainly don’t miss it when I go home to my two dimensional telly (the picture on it, that is. The telly itself exists in three dimensions. Flat screen my ass). I actually find I stop noticing the 3D by about 30 mins into the film, except during the aforementioned blurred action scene. I hate fight scenes anyway, they’re so boring.

It also costs more. Costs more to make the films, and costs more to go and see them. The glasses are fun, and in Cineworld are quite stylish (I always think I’d love to wear them out some night, but then I remember what I’d think of someone else doing that. I’d think they’re a bleeeedin’ sap). The glasses also create unnecessary waste.

Overall, I think it’s a fad. 3D was done in the 80′s with the whole ‘red-eye-blue-eye’ thing and it died a merciful death. Digital 3D is the latest gimmick to boost box office returns but it’s not a viable alternative to old fashioned cinema.

 

The Colourful Life of Madame Geneva

I'd like a DISTILLED chai tea latte, please

Gin (also known as ‘Madame Geneva‘ and ‘Mother’s Ruin‘) is a spirit, flavoured mainly with juniper berries. Distinct styles of gin (such as the popular ‘London Dry‘ style) are achieved by adding other ingredients such as orange peel, coriander and even frankincense.

Gin comes in two forms.

1. Distilled: Distilled gin is when the juniper and other botanicals are put into a vat of raw alcohol. The alcohol is then distilled, absorbing the botanical oils and being purified in the process.
2. Compound: Compound gin is when flavourings are simply added to the alcohol, like the way Starbucks flavours their drinks by just pouring a flavoured syrup into them. Like Starbucks’ coffee, compound gin is considered to be of inferior quality.

Juniper berries have been used for medicinal purposes since pre-history. It was only a matter or time before they were combined with alcohol. The Dutch loved gin, and distilled it in large quantities as a medicine. It was only when the Dutch King William of Orange took over the English throne in 1688 that gin made its way to Britain.

Until then, imported French brandy was the drink of choice for most English people. Gin, however, was made from grain alcohol; thus it could be produced in England, keeping money and jobs in the country. So laws were passed that made gin cheap and brandy expensive, and put very few controls on gin production. This coincided with an economic boom of sorts, giving people more disposable income to spend on booze. The result was a huge explosion in gin production and consumption, known as the Gin Craze.

 

You got served!

Getting served at a bar is always a pain in the arse when it’s busy. But there are ways to increase your chances of getting served. I have no evidence to support my theories, only my own drunken observations. As I continue to observe bar service patterns, I may update this list.

1. Stand up straight.

I have a friend who’s around 6′ 8” (that’s a tiny bit over 2 metres), and he always gets served quickly. But you don’t need to be ridiculously tall for this to come into effect. Standing on your tippy-toes, with elbows on the bar to elevate the upper body, does appear to entice bartenders to serve you ahead of your shorter companions.

2. Smile.

I like mine with a straw, cos it makes me look fly

Grinning manically at barstaff isn’t advisable, but a friendly disposition can help more than anything else in getting the bartender on your side. The point isn’t to make friends with the barstaff, it’s just to get them to remember you. On occasion, when the bar is quiet at the start of the night, I’ve gotten into conversation with the barstaff (usually the female ones. I would say it’s because of my sex appeal, but it’s generally the bar-women in gay clubs who talk to me). It’s amazing how well you’ll stay in their memory.

One lady, after only two orders, had noticed that I liked a straw in my gin & tonic, and put one in the glass for me on the third order. She was very friendly. She was a bit chubby, and she always kept some food in the fridge, alongside the drinks. And she used to ask me and my friends to bring her biscuits the next time we came because she’d get hungry during the night.

Anyway, the point is that later in the night they’ll be much more inclined to serve you ahead of other people if they recognise your face, and remember you as being a nice person.

 

My Deeper Post

I want to keep this blog fairly light, but it is a chronicle of my thoughts, which sometimes get a little deep.

There’s a saying; I can’t remember the exact words or who said it, but basically it says that there’s no point going to the grave in a perfectly preserved, healthy body. You should get the most out of your body, milk every last drop out of it, and send a completely used-up corpse into the ground (though I think I’d rather be cremated).

Obviously this has to be taken within reason. One wants to live a fairly long life, but not at the expense of quality of life. Or at the expense of fun to be had along the way.

My thoughts tonight are about how I can improve my overall quality of life. Make myself happier overall. Not that I’m unhappy; quite the contrary. But I think I should strive to make every day better than the last, rather than slipping into a quiet mediocrity, being content with everything as it is. That would be so boring!

So then I ask myself, what constitutes a ‘good day’?

Today was a good day. I got a fair bit of editing and promo stuff done for the radio show, and in college I was in very good form. I was in a very chatty mood, cracked some good jokes and heard some good ones too (one lecturer gave me a bit of a dirty look when I laughed during his lecture. Though even he was in a good mood today) and got the last slice of pizza in the canteen.

Almost all of the things that made today good have one thing in common; they were dependant on internal factors. Getting lots of stuff done was down to my motivational levels. Being in a chatty mood and having fun in the lectures was down to my own disposition. Even though I’ve got an awful cold, and a really sore throat, and very boring lectures, I still enjoyed the day a lot.

Ultimately, if I can control my state of mind a little more, I can make everyday a good day. It’s all internal. Nothing is stopping tomorrow from being an even better day if I approach it in the right frame of mind.

That’s my thought for the day.

More interesting posts will return shortly!

 

Lament to a Nokia

My mobile is terminally ill.

What my phone looks like before bits start to fall off

Last night it had the equivalent of a cardiac arrest and had to be resuscitated by taking out the battery and putting it back in. However, it’s been plagued by bad health and shoddy manufacturing since I got it, just over a year ago. About a week into its life, it was dropped on its head (only from waist height, and on to a carpeted floor) which broke the keypad backlight.

Then the clips that hold on the battery cover were accidentally amputated after I touched them. I’m not particularly heavy-handed, I’ve never broken a phone before (I didn’t even break that Marantz, I swear), so surely the external components should withstand my gentle touch.

The screen has a nice mirrored look when it’s in standby. Unfortunately the mirrored effect scrapes off easily and unevenly, leaving  extensive scarring. A second fascia came with the phone, but it’s all pink and shit, and I don’t want to look like some total fag, y’know?

Finally, whilst sitting in an Imaging seminar (with the lovely Trish Morgan, who I wish I had for this semester too) the camera-lens cover jettisoned itself into the depths of my pocket. The phone is essentially blind now.

 

2 Many Michaels

My two favourite Michaels in one video! Michael ‘WHATTHEBUCK’ Buckley intereviews Michael Cera at the Youth in Revolt premiere.

Which reminds me, I need to harass Buckley again for an interview on Homophonic (my delicious LGBT radio show on DCUfm).

(Michael Cera’s kinda wierd! Wtf is with that ‘stop talking’ business card?)

 

Goodbye Wossy

I had always dreamed of one day being interviewed by Jonathan Ross. That’s when you know you’ve made it; the day you walk through that doorway, over to the uncomfortable black leather couch whilst the four puffs sing Prince’s ‘Sexy Motherfucker’.

What could have been... (my head really is that big)

Alas, my dream will never come true as Ross announced that he’s leaving the BBC after 13 years. There’s been pressure on him to leave ever since the Andrew Sachs kerfuffle, and controversy over his salary (reputed to be £6 million a year). He certainly would have faced a pay cut if he had stayed with the beeb, but he has said in the past that he would happily stay with the BBC even if offered a bigger pay cheque elsewhere.