R.I.P Bananachaser.

I can't deal with this stupid blog name anymore. I'm changing it. It'll be the same, don't worry. From now on, I'm here:

www.charlesthebear.blogspot.com

until then, R.I.P bananachaser.

Stop fucking discriminating.

I hate when people discriminate. I wouldn't say I suffered too much from it when I was a kid, since my friends always stuck up for me, but it always bothered me. Some people never seem to be able to get rid of that discrimination. They have been persecuted, spat on, disrespected and humiliated from the very beginning. This social injustice makes it so much harder for them to get jobs, friends and spouses. And none of them deserve it either. It really fucking pisses me off, in fact. I have to take a stand, I have to say something. In a time where a black president gets elected as a statement against discrimination, I would like to invite you to do something to help these people as well. Most of you should already know what people I'm talking about. People who play miniature-golf.

The history of miniature golf is relatively uncomplicated. It was supposed to be golf for women. This fact alone testifies to the fact that the sport was against discrimination of women. Naturally, they couldn't play regular golf, since that requires a penis complex. And so, miniature golf was born, and it's refined playfulness worked wonders as a cute little degrading compromise to the real sport. From the very beginning, the elders agreed on the fact that the sport had to be very diverse. Hence, according to wikipedia, the term "miniature golf" can also be switched for: mini-golf, midget golf, goofy golf, shorties, extreme golf, crazy golf, adventure golf, mini-putt and so on. My favourite is midget-golf, since midgets are clearly awesome.

Apparently, the Swedish Minigolf Federation (Svenska Bangolfförbundet) was founded in 1937, being the oldest minigolf sport organization in the world. This was not an accomplishment in oh so many ways. They formed this union in post-war times, when I imagine the interest in playing miniature golf as being rather low. Also, they apparently managed to convince someone that miniature golf is actually a sport.

If you think about it, miniature golf is pretty much the unrecognized essence of awesomeness. It's not demanding in any way, the props are cute, anyone can do it, and let's face it, you look cool doing it. Especially if you're one of those guys who squats down to see which angles are the best and which is the best way to go about eliminating all male pride by using that fiendishly small stick to get a pink rubber ball into the little bunny's mouth at the other end of the court. This got me thinking, how would one take this to the next level? How do we make miniature-golf even cooler? I took the liberty of compiling a small check-list that you can follow if you're looking to fornicate some 16 year old that you met at "Pepe's Puttputt Party":

-Wear a leather jacket while playing miniature golf. In between shots, take it off and casually hang it over one of your shoulders. This will remind people of Johnny Depp in the movie "Cry baby". Except that everyone knows that he probably couldn't even play miniature golf.

-Every time you miss a shot, casually blame the court. Please refer from using swear words, though. There are probably children present.

-Even though we all know you have multiple clubs, don't bring them all. Just don't.

-Listen to cool music while playing, maybe something like The Virgins. This proves that you hang out with people who take music way too seriously, and also that you can multi-task.

-Don't wear a t-shirt that has your World of Warcraft character on it.

-After a successful shot, always say "well, would you look at that" in a casual way. However, people still have to know that everything you do is intentional, thus the outcome is always expected. Saying "Hole 12, 2 shots aaaas usual" also helps this.

-Go up to complete strangers, stand right behind them as they're putting, and gently whisper into their ear: "I could tell from a mile away that you have a refined, yet not optimal technique for your body type. Let me help you." You should refrain from referring to the padawan/jedi relationship in this situation.

-Leave the fannypack at home. I know, American Apparel made them cool again. But that only works if you disregard the fact that they didn't.

-Nevertheless, fashion statements are underestimated. Beige corduroy pants are the new black corduroy pants. Never stop wearing them. Which I know you don't.

Finally, this is another fact that should further inflate your interest in this sublime activity. The most prestigious MOS minigolf competitions in the world are US Masters, US Open, British Open, Irish Open, and World Crazy Golf Championships. The latter being a highly formal and prestigious event.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I simply want everyone to get along. It's an ambition we all have to take part in. We were all born equal, and should be treated accordingly. Regardless of your skin color, education, political views, religion, or inexplicably ridiculous hobbies.

re-jigging it

Last night I was going over old edits etc and decided to completely re-jig one of the stories I shot earlier this year. I didn't feel like it had enough presence, so I changed it up a bit.

New version here

ps. I have to make a somewhat bold statement. I don't think I like fish-eye. I mean, it doesn't look cool or nice, does it? It looks like you held a tube in front of your camera/that you have transformed into an aquatic being, big deal.

Michael Mann, totally avant-garde.

As we're all fully aware of, there are certain movie-directors that cross boundaries. Lynch, Kubrick, Fellini, Godard, Clark, just to name a few. They didn't necessarily invent something new, but they were completely original. And if nobody else is doing it, doesn't that make it new? Actually, no. That just makes it original. Anyways, last night I saw a movie that makes me think Michael Mann should be included with the previously stated heroes of cinema. You see, Michael Mann is not only original, but he invented something that I can't seem to find anywhere else. And I'm a fucking amazing googler, I kid you not. Michael Mann has tapped into something so unique, it didn't hit me until yesterday. And that was the second time I watched the movie. And so, while watching Miami Vice, it hit me that Michael Mann has successfully invented some sort of cinematic mass-rape. In essence, that movie is so fucking bad, all other people who have ever been anywhere near an action movie, HAVE to feel at least somewhat violated.

Not only is Colin Farrell the biggest douche since Alexander the great, he looks fucking ridiculous. Okay, this guy is cool:



This guy makes me feel like I've just been skull-fucked by a rhinoceros:



I'd say Sonny Crockets level of being annoying is definitely up there with Luke Perry from the old episodes of Beverly Hills 90210. Sonny isn't quite at Dylans level, but it's freakishly close. Now, There's always something that confuses me about directors like Michael Mann. I mean, he makes fucking awesome action movies like Heat or Collateral, and then he just sits down and thinks:

"Okay...So Heat and Collateral were both critically acclaimed films with great actors, but I mean, I don't necessarily want to get stuck in one specific genre. Hence, I should probably make a film with that asshole Colin Farrell, where we savagely abuse one of those great 80's tv-shows. I bet I could do an absolutely terrible job, if I just try hard enough and get a really big budget. In fact, I could probably do such a poor fucking job at it, that in comparison, listening to Limp Bizkit's cover of Behind blue eyes(The Who) will suddenly feel like a warm hug from your grand-mother." By the way, that cover never ceases to fuck you in the ear. Seriously, If I could have anyone play at my birthday party, it would be The Clash, after they had just stomped on Fred Durst's testicles. Over and over and over and over again.

Anyways, I lost my train of though, as usual. I guess my point is that Miami Vice is a terrible film. Absolutely terrible.

Nylon Magazine

Uhm...So this might be the first time I've ever posted twice in one day. UPS just knocked on my door and handed me this months issue of Nylon. It's Dec/Jan issue and it has Lily Allen on the cover. I have 8 pictures in this issue, namely pages 66, 70, 76, 90, 91, 93, 95 and 96. So check that out if you want. I'm editing the pictures from the shoot on Tuesday. I hate editing, I truly do. I would suck without Maja there to help me. She's pretty much my whole operation.

Nylon magazine

D is for Disco. E is for Dancing.

These are some pictures from my fade between New York and London this last week. Good times.

K.I.D.S

Now, I know that this topic is completely outdated, but I can't help myself. Why do people bring their kids on airplanes? I honestly do not see the point. And don't say I can't understand kids, because I used to be one. I went to Mallorca with my mom when I was two years old, and I can pretty much say one thing about that place: That I don't know anything about it. I don't know what people on Mallorca look like, I don't know what they eat, I don't know what plants grow there, or if the cinema is open until midnight. Sure, I probably had a blast, eating good food, swimming in the ocean and generally enjoying the finer things in life, but let's face it, I would have had an equally awesome time sitting in my grandparents bathtub, eating Frosties out of the box, which is probably as far as my culinary preferences went back then. As long as it's unhealthy and I can eat it straight out of the box, hand it over.

Hence, everyone on that flight had to endure my screaming and bitching because my ears were hurting during takeoff and landing, and my mom couldn't fully relax during her vacation, just so that I could do all the same things...in a different country. To sum it all up:

Character A(everyone I don't know on Mallorca) most likely thought I was really annoying during my stay.

Character B(my mom) couldn't enjoy a vacation that she paid for and probably needed pretty badly.

Character C(me) probably spent 50 % of my time on Mallorca, crying over stuff that wasn't sad. The other 50 % of my time there was spent laughing at things that weren't even funny.

When you go on vacation, kindly leave the kids with their grandparents. As long as there is a nintendo or a football around, latitudes and longitudes really don't matter.

// R

ps. Is it just me, or should the item in this thought-bubble probably be replaced by a living being or something?

Great morning music: Buzzcocks - Ever fallen in love(Nouvelle Vague cover)