So... you're in charge of a mission to Mars... the furthest place our youthful species has intentionally left it's first, tentative mark... (I say intentionally because we've flung plenty of Astro-rubbish and board-stiff cosmo-dogs out there whilst taking these baby steps... do you think anyone spent millions retrieving the corpses of all those monkey-pilots we sent up?)
A robot called 'curiosity' will trundle around, taking pictures, zapping stuff with a laser, tweeting cute updates and generally being a hipster version of R2D2 without the potential for that Hilarious 'whistling noise which might be mistaken for censored swearing' gag...
At some point it is decided that this cute little big-trak will send back some music... the first Mars to Earth musical broadcast ever... in fact the first interplanetary dj set ever... Nothing like this has happened in the history of the universe... It's a big deal...
So, the pressure is on... It has to be right. Lucky you have the entire back catalogue of musical achievement to pick from, from the greatest symphonies, to the most heart-breaking ballads, to the most intricate IDM , to the most experimental jazz, to the most inclusive pop...
Given that, would you choose Will-I-Am?
Would I fuck!
Now... anyone reading this might think that a whole blog is a hell of a length to go to just to regurgitate an old Will-I-Am gag that I've done on Twitter before... probably not just me either... it's a sitter... I mean... it's the first think I thought of when I saw him... Literally... Will-I-Am, Would I Fuck... then I laughed myself into a coma... and by 'laughed' I mean 'Wept' and by 'Coma' I mean into 'my third bag of Haribo that night'
I remember the second thing I thought was: He would be a fine representative for a small English village if they ever happen to have an Olympic torch relay...
Honestly...
Anyway... the first ever broadcast from Mars Fm will be that guy... Not Bowie, the British Bard of space travel, not a piece by Mozart or Hendrix or Bach.... not 'Pump up the Volume' or Radiohead or Stevie Wonder... or even George Clinton and Afrika Bambaataa who are probably the most appropriate, being almost certainly aliens themselves...
Nope... we get William... Bill... Boring Bill... one of the ones from 'that band where they do a sample, then sing over a beat, repeat until fade or mass suicide'... But Why?
At first I thought we must have intercepted a broadcast from another civilisation... having painstakingly decoded it we have decided it is threatening in nature and this is our riposte... an auditory declaration of war on these far off adversaries...
Well, maybe warning shot... we'd save the big gun, Cheryl Cole, for when things got really dodgy, whereupon she will be shot at the alien race in order to deliver Geordie, 'Non-racist'* fisticuffs and horrifically off key vocals until they surrender or voluntarily explode...
(*No no no you cynics... Cheryl Tweedy didn't hit the black cleaning lady because she was black, it was because she was a cleaning lady.. so... not racist... legally... just a horrible, horrible person)
Unfortunately, despite being bad, Willie Yam isn't even good enough at being bad to be bad enough to broadcast for this reason... he's too... too boring. Any Alien hearing him might well imagine it was the audio equivalent of wallpaper paste... it's there for a job, but there's no way you'd notice it on it's own...
So, why use a poster child for tedious mediocrity... a 'rapper' that would make the Wham Rap look edgy...
Well... I think we did intercept a signal from Aliens, it is threatening and so, instead of sending out anything that might provoke an invasion we've opted for something so dull that nobody in their other-worldly minds would ever think of coming here...
"Fuck... what's that sound... where's it coming from?"
"The red one... it's sending it to the Blue/Green one"
"fuck... are those planets at war or something"
"Doesn't look like it"
"They should be... just... just turn it off... even though I can't understand the language you can tell he just keeps saying the same things over and over with the same noises happening"
"Must be what they're into in that Galaxy"
"Well...fuck going there... if they like music that takes longer to listen to than to make... they can piss right off... oh and tell all the other advanced races, until this lot can tell the difference between 'music' and 'a job lot of expensive samples unimaginatively assembled behind 7 or 8 words' there's no point in making contact"
"we could.. you know... just blast the galaxy into atoms?"
"They are suffering enough already"
So... in conclusion three points.
1) Will-I-Am is the greatest hero the earth has ever seen and all are indebted to him for every breath they draw
2) Space Travel is fucking awesome, but shouldn't pander to silly trends... it's a fucking Robot... and it's broadcasting from the surface of FUCKING MARS... if someone thinks it needs Will-I-Am to get 'the kids' interested then both they and those kids can fuck off... (although I suspect this isn't even the case judging by the Global reaction, from all ages, to the death of Neil Armstrong)
and,
3) I can't wait for the politicians to come back from wanking about on their holidays so I can actually write about something interesting... well not interesting... nothing is more interestinger than space travel... but something where I don't need a science doctorate to write something coherent and instead resort to a demented wibble about shit pop stars to find an 'angle'
*sobs*
Come back Clegg... all is forgiven...
No comments:
Post a Comment