Is there ever going to be a week that will go by without either Kanye West or his fiancée Kim Kardashian featuring in Celebrity Watch? CW’s gonna be totally honest with you: it doubts it. It doubts it all to hell and back.
This week, West made the Press Association ticker-tape by releasing a new song, I Won, in which he paeans Kardashian in rhyme: “I wanna dip that ass in gold” he raps, a proposition that makes CW incredibly nervous, given how badly a similar process went for Shirley Eaton in Goldfinger.
But even as CW was fretting over this terrible health-and-safety issue, West had gone on to make his next major statement. Recalling how Kardashian chose a rap star (him) over a sports star (some sports stars), he rapped, “I made it over NBA, NFL players/ So every time I score it’s like the Super Bowl.”
Now, while CW does not doubt that this lyric comes from a place of love and admiration, it feels it must caution West as to the unfortunate nature of this particular simile. Saying “I made it over NBA, NFL players” makes it sound like there was a huddle of them, grouped around Kardashian’s private areas, that West had to bust through while wearing a helmet and gumshield, that one billion people watched it on TV and that the Red Hot Chili Peppers played at half-time.
And as for “So every time I score it’s like the Super Bowl” — has he even thought about this? The goalposts in the NFL are 40ft tall and 18ft 6in wide and Kardashian’s just had a baby. To be honest, given the circumstances, this is the worst simile for making love to your wife ever.
“Who doesn’t have a friend who worships her lover with a passion that seems baffling to everyone that knows them? Before you met him for the first time, she’d talked him up like he was a cross between Indiana Jones, Barack Obama and The Doctor. When you finally meet him, he’s a quiet little thing who looks like a baked bean in glasses.”—Caitlin Moran, How To Be A Woman (via chamalmey)
“What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I have made it socially acceptable for girls who wear eyeliner to discuss masturbation and sexism.”—Caitlin Moran as part of “Q&A with Caitlin Moran” in The Guardian. (via poweradepuke)
“And there we are again, hot with joy, aching with it like effervescent brandy in our bones; not dead, in bed, with a whole day in which anything could happen, and even if “nothing” happens, you still have lunch, and pictures of cats that look like Hitler on Twitter, and putting on your favourite shoes, and looking at the sky, and reading Wolf Hall on the bus, and putting your key in the door, and smelling stew.”—Caitlin Moran (via quote—bank)
“At 19, I read a sentence that re-terraformed my head: “The level of matter in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang.”
In all the aeons we have lost nothing, we have gained nothing - not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over.
Each baby, then, is a unique collision - a cocktail, a remix - of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms.
When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of the bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a starburst constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating micro-universes - we have never been before and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely face of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare.”—Caitlin Moran (via scatteredandshining)
“If there is joy, or progress, or enlightenment, or love to be had, it must be had now: between your birth and your death; as fast and fiercely as you can. All we have it the breath in our bodies and a finite share of seconds, and each one must be spent with the same joyous reverence as a gold coin. This is because, at 19, I’d read a sentence that had re-terraformed my head: “The level of matter in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang.” In all the aeons we have lost nothing- not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over. Each baby, then, is a unique collision- a cocktail, a remix- of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms. When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of a bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a stardust constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating, micro-universes- we have never been before, and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely fact of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare.”
— Caitlin Moran
I read this passage from an article on the bus and choked up. If there is any need for reassurance of your life- this might possibly be of help to you.
“However many terrible, rankling, peeve-inducing things may occur, there are always libraries. And rain-falling-on-sea. And the Moon. And love. There is always something to look back on, with satisfaction, or forward to, with joy.”—moranthology, Caitlin Moran (via megacharl)
Caitlin Moran’s article on Benefits Street in today’s Times is probably the most eloquent and brilliantly-written I’ve read on the show and its subsequet controversy.
I won’t copy and paste the full article, because if ever a newspaper or media outlet deserved ‘hits’ or subscriptions it is The Times on the basis of this piece, but I’ll post my favourite extract - probably the most pertinent few paragraphs you’ll read on the subject of a television show:
To show how absurd the weight and analysis lumped on Benefits Street is, imagine for a moment a putative Middle Class Street.
If, on our new Middle Class Street, we’d seen three out of 99 lovely Victorian terraces engaged in crime — the same ratio as Benefits Street — but the middle-class crimes of tax evasion and expenses fiddling instead, no one would be lining up to condemn the entire middle class. No one would be presuming to be an expert on the middle-class “lifestyle”. No one would be making statements on the moral degeneracy of the 21st-century middle classes.
Even if they were, middle-class voices have so much access to the media that such statements would be easily countered by dozens of columns and radio sermons on the subject from middle-class broadcasters and writers. The middle classes would not be talked about as if they were something that must … end. Something to be cured. Something that has gone on for far too long and must be remedied. Something that is only ever a problem.
When the irony is, of course, that the working-class benefit fraud costs £1.2 billion a year, while tax evasion — inevitably a middle-class crime — costs £14 billion annually.
£14 billion! That it is often repeated does not dim its outrage. The fact is simple: richer people steal more. You cannot trust them. Hide your espresso machine when they come round, fellow peasant, lest they sneak them into their Cath Kidston tote and make their escape in a Prius.
“Stand in the place where the gods would stand, and look at us, calmly. Look at our small, troubled planet. Oh, the things we would have to hide from these gods! The pain, and the anger, and the filth. The 27 million slaves. The death, every three seconds, from starvation. We do not reason and we do not share. We are barely begun as a species – we have not yet been to the bottom of the ocean, or found a common language, or a cure for heartbreak. We have not yet made it so no child ever again has to dig their parents’ grave. I do not think we should catch these gods’ attention, with our space stations and our satellites. I think we should stay at home a little longer.”—Caitlin Moran - ‘Why I don’t want us exploring space’ 18/01/14 (via empoweringredlipstick)
Celebrity Watch Caitlin Moran 10 January 2014 The Times
Hello! And welcome to 2014 from CW, who is — rest assured — just as gaspingly horrified about abandoning its holiday existence of living in pyjamas and on sherry, sausages and tiramisu as you are. CW suggests we ease gently back into this ghastly “normal life” lifelong Snafu by discovering what certain celebrities have been up to over the festive period and pretending it’s still December 23.
Take Britt Ekland’s Christmas for instance. Interviewed in Hello!, Britt explained that she would be welcoming her family to her home in California for Christmas: son Nic, his wife Alison, and their baby, Cash. How lovely!
CW greatly hopes that Britt’s house has enough rooms for her to put up her extended family. It wouldn’t like to think there would be a situation that would end up with Cash in the attic.
“I discovered what love is, and found that it’s just feeling very interested. More interested than I had ever been about anything else before.”— Caitlin Moran, How to Be a Woman (via secondbananabooks)
CAITLIN MORAN; Columnist of the year’Resolutions I failed at: learning to lip-read; becoming “even more sexual”’ more sexual”’
4 January 2014
There is no quicker way yet devised by man for discovering the extent and depth of someone else’s self-loathing than by asking them, “So, what are your new year’s resolutions, then?” as they stand, drunkenly, at a buffet table at 10.37pm on New Year’s Eve.
“The problem with improvement via new year’s resolutions is that they tend to centre on removing things from your life - drinking, smoking, eating four packets of crisps on the bounce while pressing “refresh” endlessly on Facebook - rather than adding things. They’re all about making your life smaller. And I’m instinctively anti-smaller lives. Balls to smaller lives. Balls to denial and unhappiness and rationing. Our lives - like our hearts, our vocabularies and our hair - should all be about remorseless embiggenment.”—Resolutions I Failed at by Caitlin Moran, in The Times, 04 Jan 2014.
“[T]he idea that we invent, reinvent and improve ourselves, over and over, in an endless flurry of innovation, is one of the most beautiful things about being a human being. Our sci-fi and fantasy stories dream of transmogrification as something future, or magic - and yet, if we compare what we were at 7 to what we are now, we will see we have all achieved something more dazzling, and technically difficult, than turning into a dragon or a swarm of enchanted bees.”—Resolutions I failed at, by Caitlin Moran in The Times. 04 Jan 2014
And it really is the most amazing thing. We’re in a tiny, peach-coloured room – the beams so low Benedict’s hair almost touches them. Through the window, you can see his dad, on his knees, in the garden, as the wind moves the narcissi. This is the safest and most normal room in the world. The house still smells of Sunday lunch.
But when Benedict starts his monologue, you see, again, what Spielberg and Streep and Stoppard see in him. You see what he does in Sherlock, and in Parade’s End, where he tore up the screen with only two days’ preparation. This big, scattershot, slightly space-cadet kid suddenly comes into focus – painful, super-bright focus – and becomes absolutely other.
In jeans and slippers and a knackered T-shirt, he now looks like someone who has been to the loneliest, outermost reaches of the galaxy, and become demented. The softness disappears from his face – the skin becomes tight. He is a terrorist who wants to destroy the Earth. Even when he giggles, for a minute, in the middle of the monologue, he pulls it back immediately, comes in even harder – ending the speech full of cold, still hate.
There is a pause, during which I probably should have applauded.
“Do another,” I say, waving my wine glass at him. “Do… the dragon.”
Smaug, from The Hobbit. He doesn’t say anything. Just starts breathing. Breathing like a dragon. The sound of a dragon, breathing in its cave – his neck lengthens, his hands reach out for invisible things, palpable talons. I have it all on tape. I will play it you. It is amazing.
It is the thing. It is the thing every actor hopes they will be, and almost never is. It is someone becoming utterly, brightly gone.
Caitlin Moran interviews Benedict Cumberbatch.
I think there is an art to writing a decent and not invasive, petty or fawning profile. I love that Moran focused on Cumberbatch’s craft here. Spot on, beautiful prose, remarkable actor.
“Women, I’ve had a billion gins, so I’m going to give you all the advice you need for 2014:
1) Only hang out with people who make you feel comfortable and happy.
2) Get a bra you can dance in. I highly recommend the Marie-jo from Rigby & Peller. Spendy, but a life-time sex-dance investment.
3) Find what you would do for free, and try and find a way to get paid for it as your job. Everything good in the world comes from love.
4) Drink shit-tons of gin and listen to Daft Punk, Lorde, MIA, Kanye West and prime Bowie. All your revolutionary needs will be met.
5) Read as many books as you can - every book you read means you absorb another life. It’s the most pleasurable power-up ever.
6) You don’t need mascara if you’re wearing eye-liner. Spend your spare fiver on tights.
7) Never complain, never explain. No-one is paying you for either. Shine on you crazy diamond. Carry on your mission.
8) Ghostbusters is the greatest film ever because the main protagonists never fall out with each other. There is a lesson here.
9) Hair looks its best two days after washing, pumped with dry shampoo, and back-combed. YOU DON’T NEED A HAIRDRESSER.
10) A wobbly belly is the sexy birthright of all women.
12) (is it 12? I’m pissed) Always presume everyone you are dealing with has recently received bad news. Be gentle & forgiving.
13) There has never been a party better than eating a baked potato on the sofa watching “Cheers.”
14) The best eye-liner is Rimmel.
15) The best deodorant is 24-Hour Sure. Spray-ons don’t work. If you’re very sweaty, buy under-arm pads.
19) (literally lost count) full a pot with sunflower oil, salt & essential oil for the world’s cheapest shower exfoliant/moisturiser.
20) Become sweatily exhilarant at least three times a week - dancing, swimming, listening to music, walking. Exercise your body like a dog.
21) Feel fat? a) FUCK THE PATRIARCHY b) princess-line. This is the dress-shape that makes everything better.
53) When in doubt, listen to “Heroes” by David Bowie. You will always know what to do afterwards.
23) All concepts of Hell are simply the idea of you suffering for being unkind.
24) Sailors fighting in the dance-hall. Oh man, look at those cave-men go.
473) “And in the end, the love you make, is equal to the love you take.”
1974) If you don’t feel “normal”, your mission is to make your abnormal “normal”. I refer you, again, to David Bowie.
183636) Similarly, freaks, when people say, “That is not what we do,” you reply, “That is not what we do - YET.”
And then you smoke a cigarette whilst “Let’s Dance” plays.
bong) give me your hands, because you’re wonderful
48373) tights, boots, shorts, t-shirt, revolution.
HOT TRAMP I LOVE YOU SO. Mum says I have to get off the internet now.
*expansive arm gesture* PEOPLE ON STREETS *is put into bed*
“I want to do great things, as men do.””—Caitlin Moran welcomes 2014 (via gogoartqueen)
Raised by Wolves on 4 on Demand. Watch Raised by Wolves online when you want on 4oD. Written by bestselling author and award-winning columnist Caitlin Moran with her sister Caroline, this comedy pilot is a hilarious modern-day reimagining of the Morans’ real childhood - loads of kids, no money, none of them attending school, but all somehow incredibly well read, culturally aware, witty, curious, and wise. Sisters Germaine, Aretha, Yoko, Mariah and baby Cher live with their brother Wyatt and their mother Della on a Wolverhampton council estate. Germaine is in love with local lout Lee Rind, and dreams of a Jane Austen-style romance. Aretha, with her love of Jung and Barack Obama, has a more realistic outlook. Constantly at loggerheads yet covering one another’s backs, the sisters are trying to live the dream - while all Della wants them to do is mow the lawn.
“Along with underwear, love is a woman’s work. Women are to be fallen in love with. When we discuss the great tragedies that can possibly befall a woman, once we have discounted war and injury, it is the idea of being unloved, and therefore unwanted, that we wince over the most. Elizabeth I may have laid the groundworks of the British Empire, but she could never marry—poor, pale, mercury-caked queen. Jennifer Aniston is a beautiful, successful millionairess who lives in a beach house in LA and will never have to stand in a queue to post a pair of boots back to Topshop’s online return department with a head cold—and yet her entire thirties were written off as the decade in which she just could not keep hold of first Brad Pitt, and then John Mayer. Princess Diana—so unlucky! Cheryl Cole—lonely! Hilary Swank and Reese Witherspoon—got those Oscars, but their husbands left them!”—Caitlin Moran, author of How To Be A Woman (via kurisukanji)
Look at No 2, Kristen Stewart – star of the Twilight franchise – who has long been a regular of “Most Hated” lists: described as “sulky”, “saturnine”, “ungrateful”, because, at the age of 23, she doesn’t dance down every red carpet like all the other dancing-horse sparkle-ponies, screaming, “I LOVE having my picture taken with strangers! Please – ask me a million questions about my private life!”
And of course, that makes celebrity-dependent magazines like Star hate her – but not on my behalf. As a human being, I’m delighted that one of my daughters’ generation’s biggest stars simply wants to do her job – i.e, act – rather than spend her whole life waving and smiling like a lobotomised competition winner.
Whenever I see a woman whom absolutely no one can force to smile, I see a woman who’s powerful enough to ignore the rules. All the women on this list are simply powerful enough to ignore the rules. I put them on my “Most Rated” list. Yeah, Star. In your face.
“…let’s face it, next time you lose your remote control, it’s going to be easier to have another one delivered by a robot through a conveniently open front-room window than it is to effortfully take all the sofa cushions off, and see if it’s fallen down there.”—Caitlin Moran on our Amazon drone future | Times UK (via megcouch)