Recurrent Phenomena

A normal person might just have called them regular features.

Friday’s Mental Exercise

Weekends are important and shouldn’t be frittered away because you blew your brain circuits trying to hold down a job for a living.  Hence Friday’s Mental Exercise – keep the old synapses firing like they used to before you discovered alcohol.

Legal disclaimer: there is no scientific evidence that FME can have the positive effects on brain function claimed by its advertisers.  On the other hand there’s no evidence that FME doesn’t have the positive effects claimed, so let’s call that a ‘win’.

THAT Speech In Full

Some of cinema’s greatest monologues, rewritten to no good purpose.  Once-great passages of writing are stripped of their rhythm and flow, and left devoid of any hint of wit or intellect.

Frood Destroys Your Favourite Film

In which our hero recasts specified roles of a well-known film, changing the meaning and motivation of the characters and the words they utter.  I’d actually quite like to watch these new versions, especially the ones that royally take the piss, which is undoubtedly a significant character flaw.

Jam

A type of fruit preserve, a number of musicians playing together informally, often making use of improvisation, the act of forcing an object into another object often with the intention of wrecking said object.

Dr Frood flutters round the flowers of the cultural world, collecting passages and dialogue like a bee collects nectar, mixing things up in the process and creating something quite new.  Bees like jam.  If it’s got jam in the title, it’s not plagiarism, even though no credit is given to the source material.

Why I Love…

I really hated Prometheus. More so than is rational or proportionate – it was pretty moronic but hardly the worst film of the year. Nevertheless my feelings about Prometheus were like the opposite of attraction and that’s something you can never really control.

So I did what any sane person would do when trapped on a long journey – I wrote a draft script for the sequel, which ended up being about 11 pages long. It’s one of the most enjoyable and cathartic experiences I’ve ever had with a computer. So I racked what’s left of my mind and thought eureka – why not do this for other stuff too? Shorter than 11 pages worth, obviously.

And thus Why I Love… was born, even though it’s an obvious idea done to death many times over.

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