hallelujah not here to bore you

Birth control

I know Japanese people are meant to be rubbish at English, but this choice of music for the "This week's kiddy birthdays in Hiroshima" takes the bisquit.

Next, the Nakamura kabuki clan celebrates their patriarch's birthday out in style, partying with Romanians. Had a lot of trouble uploading this, YouTube cut the soundtrack as it somehow immediately detected Van Halen's "Jump." And I just don't know how to do subtitles in iMovie yet, it's too complicated. Nonetheless, here it is in all its glory. I mainly just wanted to point out who was Nakamura Kanzaburo (birthday boy, he is the one pointing at his Romanian bus driver dancing) and who his handsome sons Kantaro (handsomest, he is the one with his chin out dancing) and Shichinosuke (the one laughing at him).

I just love that one of the most revered Kabuki families in Japan is given the "Van Halen montage" treatment. And I love their dancing.

kabukifaces from smappuron on Vimeo.

Because cute is Wakefield born

I was so against embracing Ryan Jarman because, frankly, I don't find self-mutilation attractive at all.

But I can't help it.

This is hilarious:

This is lovely:

And this is on my brain:

Plus, all delivered in that beautifully soft Yorkshire lilt. What's not to love? And incidentally, what from Yorkshire, from Tea to the Brontës, is anything short of lovable?

PS. The brother's not bad either.

And to think, I was all set to go to Wakefield back in 1998 to work as a volunteer at Pennine Camphill Community. I turned it down last minute because I really wanted to be in a city, not in the middle of beautiful windswept nowhere. But damn. I could have been well in there.

Doppelgänger, kind of

There is a Japanese Pete Doherty. I saw him on the Hiroshima tram the other week:

With hindsight, I can see that I was dreaming, but I eagerly asked my friend to estimate his age, hoping for 25. I know. Just seeing someone who looks like the Dochster makes me act like someone with a long-running hard drugs habit and zero grip on reality. She said 17. Which I am sure is right. Oh well.

Anyway I was very proud to be able to sneak a shot of him, especially of him looking his most poetically wistful. Please plug at the guitar and write cute songs and white lines! Don't do them!

Good luck in Barca, Henry

(& why did you have to leave London?)

But I can't hate you. Let's look at these lovely pictures once more, just because any excuse will do:

You won't be doing THAT no more, will you now? But I can't hate you.

Or this... But then I guess that's Pires' fault, too. Still my sexiest shot ever.

And this?

None of this, either. Again, not entirely Henry's fault, but still. That is one hot piece of homosocialism.

Or this. Man why do you have to leave England?

But at least we'll always have that look you gave the camera after the gay cowboy. The look that made a made Guardian journalist confess it made him doubt his heterosexuality like never before.

Oh, and I also forgot. There are two other singles of 2006. I was being way too indie when I failed to include them on my list here (almost at the end, sorry for all the Danish).

The Automatic's Monster and People In Planes' Moth are both wonderful AND Welsh. My pardons.

Because sometimes cute wears a kimono

... And because I haven't had time to actually write anything, here is the lovely Ebizo Ichikawa XI.

(Stunning kabuki legs sadly not pictured, I am still looking for a satisfying shot of those.)

And because sometimes cute (albeit heavily disguised cute)  can be Eastern European, here is the wonderful and multitalented Eugene Hütz:

Now go away. I'm busy. Watch Everything Is Illuminated. Seriously. Read it too, obviously. But really, watch it. And look at this superior blog by fellow Coogan obsessive Aya.

Granted, there's not much Coogan on there. But it's just shorthand for good taste, really, which she has in heaps. As for Coogan, she devotes on him here, which, although minimalist, is the most stylish Coogan site I have come across.

Oh, and you get a Coogan from me too, natch. This is my favourite screenshot from 24 Hour Party People.

(You really should click to get the full magnificent view.)

I'm crazy about this shot. The colours and the lines complement Coogan's outfit so stunningly. Bear in mind that this is just a random screencap, not at all set up in the way a photograph can be. Michael Winterbottom, thank you. And to those who say the eighties had no style, eat your ironic mullet now.

I can't really post this picture without mentioning that the real Tony Wilson is very sadly seriously ill with cancer. I only found out a few days ago from this. Tony, you're a legend and a gent. Please live.

I'm still alive

... and Japan is still weird.

And if we could actually trust Japanese anthropology I now owe you such a huge amount of on or possibly giri (I never did know the difference, but basically, indebtedness for having given you trouble) for not having written anything for months...

...that not only do you get another Coogan for the collection:

...and another Henry:

(and that Barca shirt is all like, aw don't throe me but um I kinder likes it)

...but you also get an exclusive glimpse into the future. Yes I've seen future Pete Doherty and this is what he looks like:

Drugs. Just don't do them, kids. Look at them and then make sure to be as far away from them as possible.

Talking of which, Kevin Rowland is now on Myspace, and the music is good, hurrah! Of my love for Dexys Midnight Runners, more at some point (although if you read Danish, click here).

For now suffice to say I am SORRY! And I will return sooner than this time.

Honestly!

A healthy carbon pedal print

No one is perfect. I am not talking about the strippers or even Courtney Love, I am talking about this. A Porsche and a 4 x 4 (this article doesn't mention it, but it was referred to in a Mirror comment)?  I don't care how from the streets you are, no amount of success justifies that amount carbon dioxide frivolity. Instead, let's enjoy sensibly-vehicled footballer Niclas Jensen (from 24 Timer, Dec. '06). He might receive a healthy Premier League paycheck, but he ain't too posh to pedal. That is one good thing about Denmark: men on bikes.

I'll let you know if I ever think of more. (But don't hold your breath).

Luscious lips

And eyes and hair and, well, you get the idea. Never before or since has Steve Coogan looked quite as sexy than as public information broadcaster Conor Hammil on The Day Today.

The reason is obvious: no wig. Just swathes and swathes of those perfect curls and a glint in the eye.

And a little bit of righteous aggression. What can I say? Passion about road safety turns me on.

Very sexy. All in all, Episode 2 is by far the best in terms of Coogan's looks. He is allowed to go through the entire episode wigless, which makes him look angelic as a wet Alan Partridge.

And, in spite (or because?) of the blood, not unattractive as a receiver of black market dentistry.

Having said that, he also looks cute as a button as an Italian-American reporter in Episode 6.

Ah, what I would give to go back to 1994. Without all the teenager negativity, obviously.

Addition: Hurrah, it's on YouTube. Catch it while you can.

'Ballers of the year

I'd like to apologise to all my as yet nonexistent readers, but it's all the weather's fault: fiery storms gave me a bad bout of cold AND tore up cables, leaving me netless and incapacitated.

Things are on the mend now, but while you wait for a proper post, let me treat you to this, possibly the sexiest picture ever (and may this be the only time I will ever disagree with Rich from fourfour who is a genius and right about absolutely everything). From the Guardian.   

Everyone who wants to be in Robert Pirès' boots say 'allelujah.