Tuesday, 21 May 2013


For the mirror shows many things. Things that were, things that are, things that make you go hmmm, Doo Wop (That Thing), ten things I hate about you, all the small things, all things bright and beautiful, the best thing I never had, and some things... that have not yet come to pass.

Thursday, 16 May 2013

The Saturdays - Gentleman

Whether weeping on Children In Need or launching their own range of uniquely scented feminine hygiene products, Britain's worst girl band are decisively marketed as a kind of adorable, sisterly girl-next-door outfit. And what better way to celebrate that sense of empowerment and sorority than by reviewing the lyric video to their latest atrocity, Gentleman.

A gentleman is *so* 1995, we are told. According to Wikipedia, however, a gentleman, 'in its original and strict signification, denotes a man in the lowest rank of the English gentry, standing below an esquire and above a yeoman.'

As such, we will discount any claims to historical accuracy from here on in and read the lyrics to Gentleman as figurative, focusing instead on the song's socio-cultural implications.

Much like diamonds, Wally and a hole in the glass ceiling, gentlemen (i.e. humans with dicks who aren't themselves total dicks) are very hard to come by. This is because men are pigs and bastards. I hope you're taking notes.

"Most dudes just hit it and quit it / and then they wonder why most girls just spit it"
Because of their inherent wickedness, the vast majority of (quantified here as 'most') men will simply abandon the female after coitus. As a result, the female will refuse to fully ingest the male offering of ejaculate. Do not be alarmed by the use of the word 'hit' here, it is simply a clever stand-in term for casual intercourse.

Incidentally, it is always safer to swallow semen once it has been deposited in the mouth. A spitting action can press male fluid harder against the gums where it might be absorbed into the bloodstream rather than neutralised by the natural acid in the stomach. Always practise safe sex.

Here's where the pseudo-feminist message becomes truly convoluted - where the "no, no, sister" mentality turns quickly into a barrage of needless slut-shaming. According to the Saturdays, you're not a lady if you're always on your knees. But what about the woman's choice? What about the girls at the bottom of a human pyramid? What about amputees? What about the pure and simple pleasure of administering a quality blow job?

The above piece of blistering self-contradiction speaks for itself.

"You're beautiful, I hope you know"
I'm on your side, babe. Let's stand together against these pigs and bastards. I know you only act like a total whore to distract from your cripplingly low self esteem. I know this because no woman has ever had casual sex for pleasure. Women prefer commitment, soft kisses and Cath Kidston hot water bottle covers.

It is here that the grammar begins to deteriorate to the point of practical illegibility. 

"He already had the milk so why would he go buy the cow?"
I don't know, Mollie, maybe the cow has a better personality than you. Maybe the cow values herself as something more than a milk machine. Maybe the cow doesn't need David Gandy to buy her a Birkin bag in order to feel ok about herself. Maybe the cow has enough milk to go around. Maybe the cow doesn't feel devirginised or devalued for having shared a little milk. MAYBE THE COW DOESN'T WANT TO BE EXCHANGED FOR MONEY AT ALL?

It is at this point that the girls drop what Germaine Greer termed the "Sloppy seconds bomb" whereby a group of smiling glamazons gangbang a single man and then taunt all his future girlfriends about it. Because men are pigs. And women are sluts.

It's true, he probably will.

At this point we, the audience, are all so baffled by The Saturdays' delineated, postmodern attack on gender polarity that we begin to wonder if Gentleman is actually a call for universal transsexuality.

Well, they ask us to taste the rainbow so it's either about everyone going gender queer or it's about Skittles. I won't go into the implications of the rainbow kiss.

Because I am all about MONOGAMY and not about OBJECTIFICATION!

The Saturdays then proceed immediately to listing an extensive selection of 'hunks' ranging from Robert Pattinson to the President of the United States, before exclaiming, "throw them my way, I'll date 'em!"

All at the same time? What was your point again?

"Heard 'em say I need a Kanye / He ain't a gentleman but I'll date him anyway."

"Let me be your girl" 

The song ends with the peculiar refrain of "go, go, go nineties," presumably a tribute to a time when things were simple and men were kind and wooed women with lovely things like milk, cows and mixed metaphors.

Thanks, girls!