Posts Tagged ‘Hate Magazine’

FMC! The True Hollywood Story!

Monday, November 10th, 2008

Critics may suggest that today’s post over at our sister site, Flying Monkey Comics, is sour grapes because of that fact that we don’t have a Wikipedia page, and all my contributions to that particular site keep getting deleted. There may be a smidgeon of a shadow of an element of truth in that. But with our appearance at Leeds’ Thoughtbubble Festival coming up, not to mention the credit crunch, I thought it was time to have a look back at the history of this planet bestriding comics collossus.

Of course, in order to celebrate our tenth anniversary of sequential farts, we have already posted up some of our old strips, including this semi fictionalised account of our artistic development. The current strip, however, is the true story, so if you are compiling the definitive story of our rise, fall and then semi rise, this is the place to look. And don’t forget to check back at the site later in the week for the next two parts of the sensational true life story of FMC, featuring celebrities, sex, nudity, scandal, and incongruous resignations.*

 

*Some of this is lies.

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Ten Years of Hate

Tuesday, February 10th, 2009

Wary of the fact that I always seem to write about the same sort of subject matter (Star Wars, The Watchmen movie… uh Star Wars) I suppose I should write about something other than nerd stuff. So this one, like this one, is for the ladies…

This month sees the tenth anniversary of Heat Magazine, although, as TV Cream‘s weekly mailout reminds us, it’s much changed from its initial incarnation as a sort of Time Out Junior which was aimed, we recall, at people “who move house and set up the CD player before they put up the curtains”. I remember my flat mate getting it, purely for the TV listings, although fairly early on we noticed a move towards coverage of who’s going out with who, and why you should care type bollocks.

I can’t find any evidence for this but I swear an early issue was adorned with the face of Darth Maul. Not surprising, seeing as every single magazine in the world was jumping on the Episode One bandwagon that year, but it certainly wouldn’t happen with today’s Heat. Well, not unless Jordan claimed to be fucking the Dark Lord of The Sith, anyway.

Heat coincided with the appearance of Big Brother, unsurprisingly and the two have been feeding off eachother ever since. I remember being in that same flat and being horrified when my flatmate announced that he would be watching the BB final and not the latest episode of Buffy. Now of course I have given in to its all pervasive influence and it’s regularly on in our house. I even sat rapt while watching Rachel (I bet you’d forgotten her already, hadn’t you?) win last year’s, using a combination of being nice but a bit thick, not saying anything remotely inflammatory and being viciously hated by everyone else in the house for no good reason.

Ho hum. Happy birthday Heat. May you never tire of rooting through the detritus of celebrity “culture” and making women feel bad about themselves. As a special treat, here’s some unpublished covers.



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I don’t know what “Diamond Head” is, but it looks cool!

Tuesday, April 21st, 2009

A constant bugbear of mine is the ironic rock T shirt, a phenomenon that refuses to die, like a particularly fetid revenant. In relation to this, here we have a story ripped from the headlines (of August 2007). Namely, David Beckhams wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt.

So, David Beckhams has chosen Killers. Possibly he appreciates the chaotic clatter of Another Life, or the atypical (semi-) acoustic (semi-) ballad Prodigal Son. Or maybe it’s the classic stomper Wrathchild that gets a regular airing in the Beckhams household. Maybe he enjoys the gritty rasping vocals of Paul Di’Anno (soon to be replaced by the human foghorn, Bruce Dickinson). I’m sure “Becks” has strong feelings about the “punk” sound of the early albums, quickly abandoned in favour of the more operatic, vaguely prog metal style that they developed with Lord Iffy Boatrace. One wonders what Beckhams’ thoughts are on ’ver Maiden’s decision to replace long serving cover artist Derek Riggs, for a series of inferior covers on the later albums (like Dance of Death – urgh! – Poser!). He obviously prefers the work of Riggs, why else would he choose the earlier album cover?

On the other hand that T-shirt was probably just chosen for him at random by some coke addled stylist.

Wannabe hipsters regularly write in to Hate magazine asking where they might find such t-shirts. They should go to Leeds’ Rock of Ages, cos there’s fucking millions of them!

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