I rather like Moon. Not the moon, although it must be said, the moon has some good qualities to it. The tides and making the night slightly less dark, thats all good and well. Werewolves is the only bit that isn’t great. I mean if the moon didn’t exist then no-one would ever be able to turn into one and that would be much better, except we would lose some great films, or they’d have to use effects instead. Also if there was no moon, Neil Armstrong wouldn’t be famous and then he’d have to do something a lot less impressive with his life. I think we can see that the moon is pretty necessary, if only to keep Armstrong and werewolves. That sounds like a great BBC1 sketch show if you ask me. Sketches include the one where Armstrong is bitten by a werewolf and then they both speak like modern day teenagers even though its the 40’s. But aside from all this, I meant the film Moon with Sam Rockwell in it. You may know Sam Rockwell from loads of things but never ever be able to pinpoint what it was you saw him in. I’ve even checked imdb.com and I still can’t figure out what I know him from. Sure I’ve seen Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy, but it scarred me so much I’ve erased it from memory so as to not get flashbacks of someone taking Douglas Adam’s great book and slowly wiping their arse with it while cackling about how Mos Def would make a great Ford Prefect. So its not from that. It might be from Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, but I don’t really remember. I wonder if Sam has the same problem, day in, day out, looking in the mirror, not being able to work out what he’s done with his life? Well he’s soon to be in Iron Man 2, which should sort things out. Apparently in the sequel Tony Stark has even more creased clothes than before and him and Sam Rockwell have to get one of those big steam pressers to deal with things.
Moon is brilliant. Its not, as you might think, about someone who has a compulsion to stick their arse out of windows. Or a hen-do in a limo. Nor is it the Mighty Boosh action film. Instead its a big bag of headfuck, set in space. I don’t want to tell you any more than that as it will spoil it, but its a beautifully filmed piece of claustrophobic sci-fi thriller. Don’t be put off if you hate or get confused by sci-fi, as Layla understood it and she had originally chosen Revolutionary Road for us to watch which says it all. Its all directed by David Bowie’s son too, which is amazing as I didn’t think a goblin child could do such things, but who knew? Anyway the film got me thinking – *SPOILER ALERT*
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That’s the spoiler over with. But here are actual film spoilers – about having a clone. The film does raise some scary ethical questions about the possibility of human cloning and the consequences of playing with human lives, but the bit it didn’t say was JUST HOW BLOOMIN’ FUN IT WOULD BE TO HAVE SOME CLONES! I mean think about it. Right now for example, I could be getting one of my clones to type this, while I eat breakfast. Then another of my clones could be writing some comedy, cleaning the house, making food, being in several different locations to confuse CCTV and anyone who might be stalking me, and helping to form a giant human Tiernan pyramid. We, like in the film, could play table tennis against each other, except that I wouldn’t actually have to waste time playing it, as they could just play each other. Then, if I got enough clones, we could occupy a small island and call it Tiernarnia. Then I did spend ages wondering how I would feel if I actually was a clone and my entire past life had been a lie. There would be some plus points to that, like any times in the past where I’d screwed up, I’d know it wasn’t me, it was some other dick who’d ruined my life already. And then there would be the fact that if my body only lasted for 3 years, then I wouldn’t really have to worry about credit card debt.
This is my first weekend of not gigging since September and you see what’s happened to my brain? I can’t really cope with it. Somehow I need to wind down so I’m happy with doing nothing till Monday. Of course I do have some things to do, but they are all minor and can all be done in my pajamas. So instead of stressing about anything last night, I watched a film with Layla and then played a lot of multiplayer on Modern Warfare 2. I have learnt that ‘multiplayer’ comes from the Greek word meaning ‘many shitty teenagers online will shoot you in the face all at once and ruin your evening’. I got shot in the face a lot. I shot some people back in the face, but not as many times as they shot me. If only real war had the option of just reappearing somewhere else once you’d died. It would save a lot of time. For a start we’d only need an army of about 15 people, we’d save money on funerals and Gordon Brown would never cock up writing someone’s name. Right I need to do something with myself. And the 26 other me’s that are wondering around bored.
Tiernans! Its time to see what Tiernan can endure. Tiernan 1, get into that cannon. Tiernan 2, come here so you can be set on fire. Tiernan 3, fall off that wall. Tiernan 4, eat all this chilli at once. Tiernan 5, do all my insulin at the same time. Oh no wait, I need some of it. Shit. Maybe that’s why cloning is wrong.
