The Lexicon Mausoleum

lexiconm @ 2009-06-21T18:56:00

2009-06-21T09:12:06Z

File this one under S for Shamus is an idiot.

Obviously I'd intended to advise all of my lovely subscribers that the address to my website has changed. In fact, I thought I already did.

(I didn't)

So be advised at this belated date that the former S Peter Davis Website is now located at http://www.othieves.com, not speterdavis.com. That won't work anymore. You can keep refreshing all you like. Not gonna happen.

lexiconm @ 2009-06-20T20:24:00

2009-06-20T10:45:40Z

Thanks to those who contacted me over the past few weeks about the virus problem on this site. Though the issue probably drove away most of what small audience I had left after the address change, for anyone (anyone at all) who stuck with me, I'd like to report that the problem is, as far as I can tell, resolved. Though I don't know for sure because my personal antivirus software never did pick up anything. Feel free to contact me at shamus@othieves.com if you're still having problems.

Kisses.

lexiconm @ 2009-03-13T16:01:00

2009-03-13T06:36:51Z

You know I wouldn't use this site for advertising space unless I truly believed in the product. No cash for comment here. That said, you should totally check out this sweet band and give them lots of your money.

For shits and giggles they recorded a surprisingly decent cover of Beyonce's most recent ear-gouger. I did some of the filming work for this video so I can still technically claim this as my own content. Partly. Sort of.

Grand Atlantic are working on their second studio album and you can listen to some of their original work on this Myspace thing.

lexiconm @ 2009-01-14T20:40:00

2009-01-14T11:53:57Z

Hey folks. You can now subscribe to this site through Google Reader. Never go another minute without knowing whether I've updated! Just add http://www.speterdavis.com/feed.xml to your Google Reader subscriptions. Happy days! Thanks to Matt Nicol for helping me out with that.

Got another Crap Movie Comic for you today, this time a very accurate condensed verson of Yes Man. Also, don't forget to check out The Rock Family, the greatest webcomic on the entire internet.

lexiconm @ 2008-12-30T19:14:00

2008-12-30T10:24:33Z

Hey, I just updated my website. Awesome, right?

Crap Movie Comics: The Day the Earth Stood Still

lexiconm @ 2008-11-03T21:22:00

2008-11-03T12:31:28Z

Crap Movie Comics:
Saw 5

lexiconm @ 2008-10-14T19:25:00

2008-10-14T09:50:30Z

Sorry, I forgot I had a website.

But I just had to come out of retirement to show you this. I don't know who this guy is or where he came from, but in a stunning display of not having anything better to do, he's taken an article I wrote for Cracked and used it to create an awesome video that must have taken days to produce. Thank you, whoever you are.

Also, just to reassure you that I do create my own content sometimes, here's a new thing.

Crap Movie Comics:
Babylon A.D.

lexiconm @ 2008-09-30T21:24:00

2008-09-30T11:36:23Z

You retards didn't vote BOB BROWN in the Australian election, and look where it got you! So you have one more chance. By popular demand, here's the next promotional video by Greens leader BOB BROWN.

lexiconm @ 2008-09-12T19:43:00

2008-09-12T09:52:47Z

Crap Movie Comics:
The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor

lexiconm @ 2008-09-10T18:23:00

2008-09-10T09:39:47Z

Hi, you might recognise me as the one person who hates this book:

I had to read it for a literature course I'm doing, and when asked what I thought of it I went the honesty route and said I hated it. The class went dead silent for a few moments, and then someone demanded I say why.

Here's why. (And this will contain spoilers). Atonement is a very, very English Jane Austin blowjob set in World War 2, and you'll at least know it from its adaptation as one of Kiera Knightley's ten annual period dramas earlier this year. Ian McEwan is one of those writers who doesn't think anything is worth saying if it takes less than ten pages to say, so in denser-than-dense prose with one paragraph break per chapter, he sets the scene in which a young girl misinterprets a sex act as an act of abuse, and has her sister's lover arrested for assault. Then nothing happens for three hundred pages, then there's a bit about how war sucks, and then in what is apparently the greatest twist ending of all time we learn the whole book was a figment of one of the characters' imagination. Kind of like the notorious "it was all a dream" ending, except worse because it was more of a deliberate, malicious lie. Reading this book, for me, was like digging into my own face with a blunt object until finally I reach Nirvana.

(End of spoilers)

I know what some people will be thinking, "Hey Shamus, why don't you go read some Dan Brown while fucking Matthew Reilly up the arse and voting for McCain, you illiterate tumour." Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy some high literature. I very much enjoyed Life of Pi which deservedly beat Atonement to the Man Booker. The book does have its weaknesses, but over-pretentiousness isn't one of them. I did try to penetrate McEwan's thick, syrupy prose, I did my very best, but when a writer uses - more than once! - the phrase "parallelograms of light" I find myself mentally drifting to a better place. Fucking parallelograms, dude.

Unfortunately, admitting my trouble with this book has made me a bit of a pariah in my class. I was the first to be asked my opinion, and subsequent opinions from my classmates range from it being the best book they've ever read to the best book ever written. General consensus seems to be that the history of mankind should be re-divided into two categories - before and after Ian McEwan's Atonement. Of course, to put this in perspective, one of these people once described a novel as being somewhat avant-garde with Brechtian overtones.

Still, I wonder how many people truly loved Atonement, I mean really popped seventy-five simultanious boners over it, and how many secretly enjoyed the latest Stephanie Meyer book just a tiny bit more. I mean look, don't get me wrong, I don't mind if you liked it. That's great. But don't be one of those people who simply recognises that this is something they really should appear to like. I mean... goddamn parallelograms.

Oh God, am I going to be thrown out of the pretentious writers' club for this?

lexiconm @ 2008-08-28T09:11:00

2008-08-27T23:26:28Z

Five scientific experiments likely to end the world

The Cracked website let me write for them again. It is an article about science.

lexiconm @ 2008-08-14T19:44:00

2008-08-14T09:55:57Z

I made this thing, based on this thing. An Oklahoma county commissioner who is apparently pretty well known for being a bit of a cock. The comic, however, is a work of unrestrained genius. Enjoy.

lexiconm @ 2008-08-10T21:28:00

2008-08-10T11:38:37Z

Crap Movie Comics presents...
Wanted

lexiconm @ 2008-08-06T20:29:00

2008-08-06T11:49:16Z

So I was lining up for a class today in the goddamn shoebox building where I study, so many people in the hall that I had to stand blocking the doorway to one of the professors' offices. The door opened in front of me, and who should appear in front of me but Kim Wilkins.

Kim's a local writer of gothic, horror and fantasy novels, and probably the foremost author in Australia within those styles. Apparently she does some lecturing at my university on the side. We looked at each other for a moment, and then she greeted me by name.

The only thing is, I don't know whether the fact that Kim Wilkins knows me by name makes me something special, or just amusingly pathetic. See, the reason she knows me is because I've been inadvertantly haunting her for the best part of a decade.

Kim was probably my first introduction to the real world of the writing industry, and I thank her a lot for that. She taught a workshop for young writers that I attended back in high school, and since then we've crossed paths about a half a dozen times. I'd bump into her at writers' events, at festivals, at the local Writers' Center offices, and most recently I entered a year-long series of novel-writing workshops and found that she was the designated mentor. It doesn't seem so weird for me - if there's a celebrity living in your city and hanging in sort of the same circles, then you're going to see her now and then. But on the other side of the coin, now that it sort of looks like I was suspiciously camping outside her office, jammed in her doorway, I'm sort of wondering whether she's going home to change the locks. That's compounded by the fact that the first few times me met, I was a complete twat.

Let me tell you something about writers. We think we're top shit. Especially when we're first starting out, when we decide that this is our true calling. That's when we don the black turtleneck and suede and start carrying around our collected works of Yates under our arms. When people come into the room we whip out our manuscripts and start editing them just for the public visage. We believe in our heart of hearts that, should we meet Stephen King walking down the street, he would strike up a conversation with us, even sit down for coffee, rather than pass us off as any of the other 40,000 people who approach him every day. Because we're part of a secret club, we are Writers with a capital W, and we understand the world just a little better than everyone else.

When I was a teenager, I was a capital-W Writer, and I'm sure it annoyed everyone as much as those kinds of people annoy me now that I'm wiser. So it's no real surprise that just because she taught a class I paid a hundred bucks to attend, and gave out her email address along the way, that I was now personal friends with Kim Wilkins. I used to tell people I basically had my foot in the door, and used to email Ms Wilkins about some pretty frivolous things. I can't remember what I used to say to her but it was always with the mindset that I ought to drop a line to my Writer buddy Kim and tell her all about my latest novel about dragons or some shit. I remember once I had her sign a book for me, and told her that one day I would sign one of my books for her, only half jokingly. She was receptive and friendly, as I'm sure she is with all her fans, but I can't help wondering how I would feel, after a run of hit novels under my belt, getting a dozen emails a week from some kid who seems to think I hold him in some special regard.

The allure of being a part of the Special Club of writers wears off kind of quickly after you realise that's you're not so special. I've found that when you tell people you're a writer, the most common response is "me too". Alomst everyone who's literate calls him or herself a writer, it seems. And a lot of them are terrible. After the inevitable period of indignation, the self-assurance that YOU ARE BETTER THAN THEM!!! you realise that despite the turtlenecks and the tweed jackets and the pen in your pocket, you're only as good as the amount of practice you've had and how much you've grown.

That's not to say I look down on myself or other writers. I did for a while - I left it behind me for a couple of years, disillusioned, quit my Writers' Centre membership in a huff, assured that I hated what it stood for. That phase passed, too. It just made me a twat of a different kind. But the thing is, my writing only started to become decent after I did it. Because immersing yourself in the identity of a writer prevents you from actually working to improve the writing itself. Once I stopped being a Writer and started being a guy who writes, I finally started to understand what it's all about. And hopefully I'm on the road to finally being worthy of someone like Kim Wilkins, who really does understand what it's all about, meeting me in a hallway and knowing my name.

lexiconm @ 2008-07-31T23:24:00

2008-07-31T13:33:37Z

Crap Movie Comics:
Where in the World is Osama bin Laden?

lexiconm @ 2008-07-30T19:15:00

2008-07-30T10:02:59Z

Here's how you know your drink product idea has failed - when you have to re-launch the product with an ad campaign celebrating the fact that it tastes absolutely nothing like the old version.

The consumption of energy drinks forms a large part of my day, so I know a little something about this. About a year back, the Coca Cola company, offended by the fact that people were consuming liquids not made by them, launched a hostile attempt to bury Australia's energy drink products, especially competitors V and Red Bull, and replace them with a Coke monopoly. With a massive, expensive ad campaign, Coke announced the arrival of Mother, the energy drink to rule them all. All the biggest supermarket chains, apparently assuming resistance was futile, removed V and Red Bull from their shelves, and replaced them with stocks of Mother. For a few months, it was impossible to escape the ridiculous media oversaturation with the Mother campaign. As it turned out, there was one fatal flaw with Coke's master plan. A flaw so stupid that it evidently toppled the product within a year.

I drank Mother on exactly one occasion. They were giving out free samples at the airport, and because caffeine and guarana are like heroin and cocaine for me, I popped open a can. I was disappointed to find that Mother tastes like ass. In fact, no, that doesn't give it justice. Mother is fucking revolting. Like, dry-heave disgusting. I think I got through three sips before I had to toss the rest away. It was simply impossible to finish.

My testimony is not a minority opinion. Of the few people I've spoken to who have actually tried it, one hundred percent of them agree that Mother is one of the most vile things they've ever brought near their mouths. The most depressing thing is that it's really not that difficult to make something taste good. Sprite tastes good and it's just sugar in water. I don't know what the fuck they put in Mother, what daring new flavour concoction they were trying to present to the world, but as far as appealing to the popular taste is concerned, I have never seen a more spectacular, awesome display of total and catastrophic failure.

Mother pretty quickly disappeared from the shelves. Our old favourites returned - Red Bull out in force with a new 370mL can that has me running up and down the walls. But just this week, those Mother ads started up again. They have a new black can and a new slogan.

"Tastes nothing like the old one!"

Seriously. I might be the first time I've seen a multinational corporation the size of Coca Cola come this close to an actual bona-fide apology about the taste of one of its products. And I haven't been game to try the new formula yet.

lexiconm @ 2008-07-27T20:17:00

2008-07-27T10:55:27Z

Generally speaking, 90% of the things that my university's student union does makes me want to stab them in the arms. That said, this week I was witness to a particularly mindboggling display of retardedness. This week I arrived on campus to find the entire place covered in Christmas decorations.

When I questioned the disgruntled lunch-lady wearing a Santa hat, she sighed and told me that it's because it's "Christmas in July" and the union has decided to celebrate. And that the employees have to pretty much go along with whatever retarded bullshit bandwagon they decide to jump on.

I thought at the time that this was the most incredibly arbitrary thing I had ever heard, but when I question others about it they invariably respond with a slightly confused look, and tell me "It's a tradition." Apparently, everybody celebrates "Christmas in July" except me.

Now, I don't know exactly how one officially defines a tradition, but I'm not sure this really fits the bill. To me it seems more like a desperate attempt by supermarket chains to shoehorn a new celebration into the depressing eight-month happiness void between Easter and Christmas. And I don't count Labor Day as a celebration because I've never seen a happy Communist.

But tradition? Can something that probably started last year by a bunch of drunk people really be regarded a tradition? Something that I've never even heard of until three days ago? Who exactly decides when something is a tradition? In any event, I don't think I'll be taking up the celebrations. I'm too cheap to worry about yet another day in which I'm obligated to buy things for people.

lexiconm @ 2008-07-21T10:38:00

2008-07-21T01:17:21Z

Before stepping into the cinema to see a bat punch a clown for two and a half hours the other night, I found myself in the mood for a greasy Hungry Jack's burger. This is when I found, to my amusement, that Hungry Jack's has adopted what might be the single lamest tie-in promotion I've ever seen. Introducing... THE DARK WHOPPER!

It's basically a regular whopper. From what I can tell, they've added a blob of BBQ sauce to it. Getting into the festive spirit of said bat-punching-clown movie, I decided to sample the Dark Whopper. I couldn't taste the difference.

This just seems a little sad, to me. I mean, when McDonald's gets wind of some kind of promotional opportunity, they go ahead and pull six or seven new burgers out of their ass. And they are new burgers, even though there are already about seventy options to choose from.

But Hungry Jacks appear to have jumped into this at the last minute. The burger appears to only be sold in a few outlets, and I can't even find an ad for it on the internet. Perhaps because they are embarrassed about it. And so they should be. In times past, they'd roll out the promotional bandwagon with a new menu, an ad campaign and a bunch of shitty toys that would break right there in the restaurant.

But now? "Hey, let's take a burger we already have and splash some BBQ sauce on that. And let's leave work early to go get trashed."

Then again, Hungry Jack's hasn't really been the most imaginative of the fast food pantheon.

lexiconm @ 2008-07-12T22:58:00

2008-07-12T13:10:18Z

Crap Movie Comics:
Hancock

(Read on)

lexiconm @ 2008-07-03T15:56:00

2008-07-03T06:45:59Z

Everybody takes longer to use the ATM than I do.

I don't know if I'm just too highly-strung, or if I'm doing something wrong, or if I'm just smarter than everyone else in the world. It's probably a little bit of each, in a 10-10-80 ratio. But it's definitely a fact. Whenever I'm behind someone in the ATM queue, the person ahead of me will inevitably take upwards of five minutes to convince the contraption to give them money.

I can never quite tell what's going on, due to the secretive nature of the human-ATM interaction, but I can hear them confusedly beep-beep-beeping away like they're trying to defuse a bomb. Occasionally the machine will spit their card back out, and they will poke it back in and try again. Beep... Boop... Beep... Sometimes I want to approach them and ask if they need some assistance.

I'm an ATM ninja. By the time I'm standing at that machine I already know how much money I want, and the exact combination of buttons that will give it to me. It takes me about thirty seconds. Others approach the machine and appear as though they have just woken up; not only do they not know what they want or how to get it, they don't even know where they are or what day it is.

"But Shamus, you handsome bucket of sex," you might be thinking, "Why use ATMs if they annoy you so much? We're living in the world of direct debit!"

Oh, that's even worse. Ever had to stand in line for groceries behind two dozen people who each want to buy a single stick of jerky with their debit cards? Those people are the reason God doesn't talk to us anymore.

lexiconm @ 2008-07-01T18:12:00

2008-07-01T08:23:45Z

Anybody who already has "lexiconm" in their LiveJournal friends list would have been flooded with entries today. Sorry about that! I merged my website homepage with my journal so now you can get all the S Peter Davis website updates straight away! Because you wanted that!

For those of you who don't have "lexiconm" in their LiveJournal friends list... well, if you do that, then you can get all the S Peter Davis website updates straight away!

lexiconm @ 2008-07-01T18:11:00

2008-07-01T08:18:57Z

Crap Movie Comics:
The Incredible Hulk

(Read on)

lexiconm @ 2008-07-01T18:07:00

2008-07-01T08:15:10Z

A dialogue between my brain and my penis

I don't want to yank my chain or anything here, but I'm a fairly smart guy. I know the principle behind high-pressure sales. I've learned a thing or two - I consider it a quiet day if I only get half a dozen people knocking on my door expressing dire concern that I'm paying too much for my electricity or phone connection. I could just about recreate their script from memory.
That said, I do have one fatal weakness. Exploit it correctly, and you can ensnare my central nervous system like a goddamned Jedi mind trap. You don't need years of psychological training. You just need a supple pair of jubblies.

(Read on)

lexiconm @ 2008-07-01T18:00:00

2008-07-01T08:09:41Z

Crap Movie Comics:
21

(Read on)

lexiconm @ 2008-07-01T17:57:00

2008-07-01T08:04:53Z

It doesn't take a genius to work out the deep, dark secret behind reality television. I worked it out ages ago, and I'm dumb as a brick. But for those of you who haven't figured it out yet, here it is: Ratings come before talent.

Some friends of mine took this to heart last week when the Australian Idol auditions came to Brisbane, and decided that, rather than singing ability, they should rent some party costumes and ride the wave of gimmick alone. This was how singing team Cock and Bull was born.

And it paid off. Only about sixty people passed through the first round of auditions, and Cock and Bull were among them. So this week they suited up again and headed off to secure their place in history.

Here they are with Andrew G, one of those E-list Australian celebrities who is right up there with Corey Worthington and that guy who plays Toadie on Neighbours.

In the cockroach's own words:

"After sitting in the waiting room for 7 hours, we were called up to the
audition room where we performed our song and dance. Kyle said he enjoyed
it. Marcia said nothing. Dicko walked out in disgust."

I think they're doing pretty well to have been in Kyle Sandilands' presence for over five minutes without him ripping out their intestines. As a matter of fact, I think they did pretty well to have been in Kyle Sandilands' presence for over five minutes without punching him in the face.

Aussies should be able to see the magic of Cock and Bull's performance when the next round of Idol comes to television. I know that'll be the only episode I'll be watching.