Seriously, these are the worst cartoons I’ve ever read. There is no semblance of humor within a single one.

Please Please, PLEASE, for the good of humanity stop making these horrible, horrible cartoons. They make me cry.

If you don’t have the brass bollocks to stand over your opinion, don’t bother cluttering up my inbox with it. Everyone is just going to presume you’re some acne riddled pubescent who can’t comprehend anything more sophisticated than a fart joke. Humanity thanks you for your concern though.

Natalie is an English and Media student in England with a bit of a yen for self-portraits. Which is a good thing. She does a great line in surreal multiplicity shots, amongst other things. I’m way too foggy to come up with anything intelligent or insightful here, so I’ll leave it to the lady herself.

“My main line of photographic pursuit post-journalist is by far the self-portrait; artistic and unmainstream images using digital manipulation and a sprinkling of Nabokovian, Hitchcockian magic.

And she’s got a blog too, in case you’re interested. That alright, then?

‘Who Stole Our Game: The Fall And Fall Of Irish Soccer‘ charts the game in this country from the golden era of the fifties when crowds of 22,000 would cram into the grounds to the present day, where many clubs would be delighted to get even a couple of thousand through the gates. Though a bit annoyingly Dublincentric, it is a well researched and interesting, or infuriating, read that savagely exposes the mismanagement, short-sightedness, begrudgery and political manoeuvring that has blighted what could have been a thriving institution. The chapter on Johnny Giles’ efforts to make something out of Shamrock Rovers is especially prescient.

The saddest thing about the book is how often obvious mistakes were repeated and how some of the attitudes that have blighted the game are still very evident today. Football in this country is entering a new era. The success of Shelbourne, Cork City and Derry City in European competitions, albeit a relative success, has raised the league’s profile. Kevin Doyle’s rise at Reading, after a contentious transfer from Cork, has opened many people’s eyes to the quality of player currently performing over here. Shelbourne aside, clubs here are now beginning to demand reasonably good fees for their star players and the more players that succeed across the water, the bigger the asking price will get. Talented young players no longer have to travel to England to succeed at the highest level - they can learn their trade at an Irish club and still have a chance of progressing. In time, maybe, they won’t need to move abroad at all to acheive their ambitions. Yet all this progress could be for nothing, if the culture that has beset the game all these years isn’t eradicated and there aren’t many solid signs that it has been.

I’m still hopeful, even if ‘Who Stole Our Game’ has eroded that somewhat, that the game is moving in the right direction. If the money that clubs are getting for players now can be spent on youth development, as well as improving current squads. If facilites can improve. If clubs can learn to walk before they run and fans can learn to be patient - not expecting clubs to bankroll their future on short-term success. If Steve Staunton learns that the future success of the Irish international team needs the backing of a strong league and it would be beneficial to everyone if joining a middling English or Scottish side didn’t improve your chances of inclusion over staying at a successful Irish side. If we can do these things and be open to innovation when it comes, then we might see the crowds flock back once again, we might see Irish clubs competing at the highest level and the game might just have a future in this country.

When I first saw this engrossing documentary, I was struck by the tragic figure of Fred A. Leuchter Jr. A sad, almost comedic, character who started out as an engineer, before revolutionising the state of execution equipment in the states and finally losing everything after becoming something of a posterboy for holocaust revisionists. On the face of it, obviously, he does sound abhorrent but he comes across so inoffensive, that it becomes very hard to correlate the man with the deeds. Thanks to Smashing Telly and GoogleVideo.

…television can include anything that is made visually available to the consumer, including developments such as Internet-based television stations and video blogging.

Which earns both RTE and Ronan Coy the wrath of Feckoff.net. Only Ronan himself sees the post and points out that he wasn’t actually speaking in support of the new legislation, quite the contrary.

I’m the Ronan Coy that made those comments but they are taken out of context… I was referring to the definition in the new Broadcasting law. I am arguing against this new law and its crazy implementation. I stated that the new law would include any device capable of recieving a TV signal which is total bullshit. As far as I am concerned YouTube, video blogging, molbile TV should not be included as forms of TV subject to a license, unfortunately the new law wants to change all that. I want to have the law modified or scrapped entirely as there are other ways for RTE to make its money.

As the man says, so much for the independent media. Here’s what I say. If RTE can’t manage on the money they get or can’t think of alternative ways to earn, let’s take the fucking license fee off them, kick Pat Kenny, Joe Duffy and Ryan Tubridy out on their over-paid arses and give the bobs to TG4, who, even with their meagre resources, have at least attempted to fill the remit of a public service broadcaster.

Fark TV - about as odd, haphazard and mildly irritating as you might expect.

The show looked at the impact blogging has had on politics stateside eventually focusing it’s attentions on the Conneticut Democratic Primaries where, bolstered by huge left-wing blogger support, unknown Ned Lamont took on incumbent and Democratic Party stalwart Joe Lieberman. Besides being an almost text-book example of how to make a simple but effective documentary, it also produced some of the most unwittingly funny moments on tv. For instance on the day of the elections one blogger described it as feeling like they were “amassing at the gates of Mordor” (and something about attacking the Death Star too). There was also the Lamont aide, after they’d won, telling them all that blogging was, struggling to find the right phrase, the thing.

In the end though, Blog Wars is unlikely to change anyone’s opinion of blogging or bloggers as very few of them managed to come across as anything other than smug geeks. The bitter irony came later, after the cameras stopped rolling, when Lieberman ran as an independent and beat Lamont in the senate elections - where, after all is said and done, it really matters. Still, Blog Wars did demonstrate the speed at which their influence is growing and how stupid it’d be to start writing them off.

Surprisingly enough, you’ll find a few Jam clips on Youtube but be warned, if your even vaguely offendable, you will be. In fact, if your breathing and aren’t a sociopath, you’ll probably be at least a little uncomfortable. The clip below is my personal favourite and has stuck with me, like an ugly growth, from the moment I saw it. It’s horrible but funny, in a way that will probably never be repeated. If it offends or upsets you don’t come crying to me, you’ve already been warned and I don’t really care.

And while their fucking around, trying to squeeze more and more cash out of us, the first HD DVD rip has appeared on BitTorrent and Pirate Bay have decided to buy themselves a country - Sealand as it happens.