Sunday, 27 February 2011
Creative writing exercise.
Think of two characters. One of them wants something. For some reason, the other doesn’t want them to have it. Ten minutes. Go!
She pops up on Facebook Chat again.
I sigh. Here we go again. I’m halfway through a status and I’ve forgotten what I was saying.
Quick, I think. Make an excuse.
“Just sending out some writing,” I send. I show her a link to a site that’s showing some work of mine.
“Good dat,” she sends. “Just going through a hard time atm”
“Yeah,” I send. “Remember u sayin”
“Husband in prison now,” she sends. “Thank God.”
“Right,” I say, “glad to hear it.”
In all honesty, I’ve not seen her in twelve years. Call me a bastard, but I couldn’t care less. People with consistent angry status updates bore me.
“Was just wonderin, would you go out with me?”
I hold my head in my hands. It’s only February and I’ve already had, what, two, three girls turn to a block of ice on me? I don’t need this shit as well.
Not to mention, I wouldn’t have gone there in school, let alone now.
“Sorry hun, not my type.”
I hammer this as fast as I can, bang the return key, shut down my entire browser and walk away from the computer. I need a drink of water.
Should I have been nicer there? I think. Probably not. Women love a bastard. I just hope she tells her mates…
Yes, yes. The above is based on actual happenings. It fit the brief well. And yes, Jackie might try to sue me for defamation of character in the near future.
Saturday, 26 February 2011
Zine (n): Fanzine, by shortening.
Above Trof bar in Manchester's student housing town Fallowfield, there's an outlet called The Art Corner.
On 12th February a tiny hub of creative types converged to give us a zine fair, offering hand-made publications on a range of niche topics. As a bastion of the written word, I felt I should investigate.
Members of Manchester's literary youth offered design-based publications like Direction Magazine, which the creators had put together using the theme of “reality”. Their next issue will be woven around the concept of “atmosphere”. If you'd like to know more or are even ready to contribute, drop Ben and Ste a line on email@example.com. Ask them about their recent exhibition of work at Chorus Bar, around the corner from Trof.
Ask them for directions to Chorus well, as Google doesn't seem to know it.
The lovely ladies at Threads and Letters zine tempted me in with free cupcakes. Their publication covers the sewing together of literature and textiles. They have a blog too. Learn how to make your own bat puppet here:
Adding a graphic novel slant to the fair, Manchester blogger Fat Roland has reinvented Edward Lear's nonsense-poem, The Owl and the Pussycat in pictorial form.
Here's the original:
For more info, here’s Roland’s blog:
I applaud all of these trying to make this work, but I was dubious as to how successful zines could be in an era of the internet. There’s free fiction and journalism in abundance online, so I wasn’t sure that selling photocopied sheets under the guise of “zines” was going to take off, no matter how good the writing. With the rise of 4G mobile phones with masses of internet capabilities, could the zine scene thrive or will it be recycled?
Having asked that, a free copy of Shrieking Violet Issue 11 that I picked up shed some light. Covering events in Manchester, the zine is well-written and informative, although the tiny text in huge blocks was a bit of a struggle, even for a non-glasses-wearer. It also answered my above question- why make zines?
“It’s the sensation of holding the paper in your hand,” says contributor Sam Bail in the zine. “I like the idea of people finding the magazine in random places, cafés, record shops, and it makes it seem like a present.”
Well, in all fairness, I did read it cover-to-cover. Who does that with a blog-style online magazine with 200 posts? Not me.
I suppose the you could leave the printed zine in places that people with specific interests could find it- imagine fashion zines discreetly hidden in clothes shops (managers won’t be happy, but do it if you dare), zines hidden in printed magazines in WHSmiths, and cooking and recipe zines left in the trolleys in Tesco.
As opposed to dishing out your writing to other publications, making your own zine requires you to not only be a good storyteller / journalist, but to have a marketing brain as well. Where will you find the people who will listen to what you want to say?
The more of this blog post I write, the more I warm to the idea of making a zine. I was sceptical when I first walked into the Art Corner, but now the event, and idea of developing a fanzine, has made me a zine- fan.
Friday, 25 February 2011
Carter Pewterschmidt: He's violating Sea Breeze.
Peter: No, he's just awkwardly positioning himself- NOW he's violating Seabreeze.
Screwed the Pooch is a classic Family Guy episode. After the family dog, Brian, realises he can’t control his sexual urges, he throws himself at prize female race dog, Seabreeze. Overwhelmed with shame, Brians finds his situation worsening when Seabreeze is found to be pregnant, and the finger is pointed at Brian.
When the race dog eventually gives birth, the puppies look strangely like Seabreeze’s owner, Carter- who briefly enters to call Seabreeze “a filthy whore”. Well. Although still a horny dog, Brian is off the hook and free to go home with his moron master and best friend, Peter.
Peter rounds off the episode with this afterthought: “Hey, you know what's funny? I always thought that dogs, erm, laid eggs. And, I learned something today.”
Peter and I have made a similar mistake.
Open this blog in a separate tab. Dig deep through the annals of entries. The further back you trawl, the less this blog features literature-related information and the pestering of celebrities. The content gets darker, more explicit, and uncomfortable to read- especially if you know me personally. As you’re probably noticing if you're reading my older work, I was a bit of a clown in my younger days- and not on purpose.
Peter, although being an archetypal idiot, has a similar mind frame to me and to many other writers. People write to be understood. We want people to see our strengths and to feel entertained by our cleverly structured arguments and gripping stories. But we also want people to grasp that we are human- we make mistakes and feel disappointment, regret and stupidity just like everyone else.
I have always understood that dogs are mammals that give birth to live young. However, I have also admitted to people I understood the phrase “to be shafted”- to be tricked, conned- to mean “to be sodomised.” Worse still, I admitted this on a work experience placement in a radio station. They never offered me an actual job. But at least now I understand this surprisingly non-sexual phrase. Just like Peter now understands how a puppy enters this world. We both took the risk of exposing ourselves as the idiots we are.
I make mistakes a lot in the real world, and only a fraction of them get mentioned here. Blog views don’t flood in for angsty, self-depreciating entries. (They do flood in when you quote Family Guy, though. Damn, I’m good!)
You might have a blog in which you want to discuss your own mistakes- whether that be in a hobby that you have or in something that’s very personal to you. The correct way to do this is to start your blog with strong, optimistic writing. Blog about what you love. Write well, and with passion. Be personal. You’re not writing a magazine article. Your blog might be on a particular subject, but there’s nothing wrong with your posts being partially about you. Then people will like you. And then…
Throw in a description or two of a personal error. Make us laugh with these anecdotes, like Peter Griffin did, only let us laugh with you, not at you, and- like Family Guy- watch your ratings climb.
Thursday, 24 February 2011
After a brief hiatus, this local eatery bounces back onto the Manchester scene. In the Oldham Street outlet, gone is the garish blue-and-yellow décor and in its place lies brown leather seating, brilliant-white surfaces and the type of stylish, monochrome photos popular in many modern bars and restaurants. Leo's is one of the few places to sell traditional fish and chips in the City Centre, and is now another Northern Quarter business to have smartened up, making the area shine that little bit more.
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
GONZO Music! Turn it up. Put that tape on. DUKE What tape? GONZO Jefferson Airplane. "White Rabbit." I want a rising sound.
- Gonzo (Benico Del Toro) and Raoul Duke (Johnny Depp) have no concept of internet radio, with it being 1971 in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998).
I'm listening to SS Radio as I type. No, it's not a series of archive broadcasts from Nazi Germany. Far from it. This Net-based radio organisation plays lounge and chill, funk and disco, deep and soulful, tuff and twisted and hard and fast dance music, 24 hours a day. I can listen for hours, not hear the same song twice and chill out to good quality laid-back music. There are hardly any adverts and the presenters hardly ever speak. Yet when there is a presenter link, there are never any lame jokes, random stories or unfunny anecdotes- which are, for some reason, very popular with British radio presenters. SS Radio hasn't even dumbed down the breakfast show.
You'll be pleased to hear this is the case with a lot of web-based radio stations. Now that most people have broadband, they'll be able to dive on the net and find a station to suit their tastes. Here's a gem of a station that I've been waiting to enter my life since I was sixteen:
Back-to-back movie themes. Awesome. On the site's home page, you'll see the album cover featuring the film. Minimise the browser window while you work, and guess what film the music is from! If you're a movie nerd like me. Maximise the window to check your answers. Get ten in a row, and you are a true movie buff. So say I.
To prove the breadth of musical styles on offer online, I'll pick a genre I have no interest in whatsoever:
“Folk Alley”. Continuous folk music broadcast from Kent, Ohio. If you like that kind of thing.
As mentioned, I'm listening to this on my desktop computer at home. You could easily pick a station like Ibiza Global Radio, for instance, if you wanted to throw a party and not have to worry about adverts, changing CDs, crap overplayed songs or annoying DJs.
Just leave the station running, while you make sure your guests' glasses are full.
You've probably got a computer in your house, if you're reading this. You've also probably got a radio in the room, too (unless you're so much a technophile that you take your laptop to the toilet, and that's where you're reading this now). A lot of us now have mobile phone contracts that allow for a certain amount of internet usage per month. Over time, mobile phone companies will increase this access for lower and lower prices, giving people more freedom to stay tuned to internet radio stations.
The sound quality of these stations is perfect. FM's clarity is occasionally dodgy, especially in the hills of my home town Oldham, and DAB (digital radio) has surprisingly shocking reception. That's never a problem with web radio. Rarely you'll get the odd buffering problem, but most of the time you can pick a station and leave it running. Some stations will limit the time that you can listen for free- but there's always another station.
The more accessible the internet becomes, the more people will turn to it for radio. One other advantage I've noticed: I started to scour youtube for decent music channels a few years ago. This requires buffering many videos and searching down playlists. Now web radio is at my fingertips, I hardly do this at all. Sure, people will stick to their FM stations- those that they have grown up with- and the internet will allow people another way of tuning in to shows that they are already familiar with. The infinitely wider choice online, however, will prove tough competition for the traditional FM stations. In Oldham, the current heavyweights are Radio 1, Key 103 and Capital (formerly Galaxy). I expect that- eventually- all that will change as the internet has found another way of altering the way we live.
Monday, 21 February 2011
Without Valentine's Day, February would be... well, January.
-Jim Gaffigan, US stand-up comic
-Jim Gaffigan, US stand-up comic
I was optimistic this year. I was texting a few girls. (Yes, I've just busted myself there.) I was tapping up girls on Facebook. Things were happening... but not on the 14th.
That's fine, I thought. Because I knew that the middle of February is the best time of year to be single.
Think about it. Valentine's was approaching. The couples would all be either staying in or hitting the restaurants. If you were to visit the bars on this “romantic” evening, who would be left to visit these places?
That's right. Only single people. We all know that Valentine's is money-spinning bollocks. If you love someone, tell them every day. Don't wait 'til the 14th. If you're single, it's just another day. But if you're a marketer... it's a goldmine.
People in relationships buy stuff for their respective other halves, because their partners expect them to. The marketing world exploits this down to a tee. But what about if you're single? Shouldn't this be a great time?
Think about it. The couples are all in the restaurants and staying at home together. That leaves the bars and clubs...
Yup. Full of single people.
This year, however, Valentine's fell on a Monday- hardly the night everybody will be out on the piss. With the right business mind, you could put on a night for single people- on the 14th- and make a killing. Speed dating. Lock and Key. Even an online dating event. Yet after searching around on the net before 14/2 stabbed me in the heart, I couldn't find a single singles event. And so, Valentine's became- like Jim Gaffigan suggests- another cold February night like the rest of the month.
Attention, Manchester businesses: single people will flock to this kind of event. Especially around Valentine's. I know because I've been to a few dating events, and they are POPULAR. These days, people aren't afraid of showing that they're looking. There's money to be made.
If you're dubiously considering trying out a dating event, let me assure you: these events are fun. They aren't for geeks. There have been some stunners at the events I've been to. So give it a shot, no matter what time of year it is. And ladies, if you're extremely lucky... I might even be there myself.
Sunday, 20 February 2011
It was my intention to upload this entry before the previous one, but due to me secretly being a moron I did not. However, it now provides a bit of non-linear back-story and character development. This event happened before the events depicted in “Do Not Dance...” It's your choice which you read first.
Remember, people will judge you by your actions, not your intentions. You may have a heart of gold - but so does a hard-boiled egg. ~Author Unknown
It's highly important to me that I become more of a bastard, with immediate effect.
Recently, on my way to a meeting, I found a ladies' purse on the pavement. I picked it up, took it to the NHS / Council building where my meeting was due to take place, and gave it to the receptionist. I didn't open it, let alone take the cash out. There was something I found very wrong about the idea of looking inside a woman's personal item.
I then realised I'd got the wrong date for the meeting. I didn't need to be on that street at that time. Had I checked my notes properly and not made the journey, someone else less honest (or maybe naïve) would have found it. Chances are, they'd have handed it in too. But they'd have pocketed the cash. When I lost my wallet on the bus a few years ago, I was fortunate enough to get it back. The only thing missing, predictably, was the cash.
Later I realised that the receptionist could very well have taken the cash herself, or whoever else handled it before its presumed returning to the owner. The owner of the purse would be expecting that the money would be gone. There could have been eight pence in that purse. Or there could have been £200. Either way, I should have taken it- for the sole reason that someone else would have done it if I hadn't. Not to mention, I need the God-damn money.
So I must switch on bastard mode as of now, and keep it that way. I've mentioned on this blog that greed is a part of human nature. It's something I must accept and act on when the opportunity strikes, even if doing so disgusts me.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Three groups spend other people's money: children, thieves, politicians. All three need supervision.
-Dick Armey, U.S. politician
-Dick Armey, U.S. politician
You've turned off Deansgate onto Whitworth Street, heading back to the Northern Quarter. It's cold. You're power-walking. Outside the Hacienda Apartments, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn. There's a man smiling at you- he's taller than you, maybe 180cm. He's standing weirdly close to you. He looks maybe Brazilian- dark skin, almost black, but with thin European lips and narrow nostrils. He reminds you of Michael Jackson in the eighties, maybe when he released Off The Wall: young, unblemished.
You brace yourself for a fight, because where you're from this is the only reason a strange man will approach you in the street.
Then he clasps your hand in his, and for some reason he's salsa-dancing with you in the empty street. He spins you, then you're in a partner-hold. You break his grip and politely push him off you.
“I've got to go,” you say. He runs off, as quickly and as quietly as he approached you.
That was weird, you think, and you carry on walking.
It takes a couple of minutes for you to realise your phone isn't in your pocket any more.
Fuming, you walk to the nearest police station and explain the situation. They tell you you're the second person to report a theft where the perpetrator was dancing. They take your details.
A few days later, and after a number of calls to and from the Police (on your battered old mobile that barely works), they tell you the incident wasn't captured on CCTV. This is despite it occurring in one of the most affluent areas of the city. By now you've cut off the line for the stolen phone, but the handset itself is already out of the country, the police say. Someone in Eastern Europe will be buying it on the black market in a matter of days. You're told that if you see the thief again, you're to call 999. Don't approach him yourself. These people aren't standalone guys. They are knife-wielding organised gang members.
Young Latin men are modifying Salsa-dancing in order to disguise theft. The movement of the dance lends itself very well to the act of pickpocketing- the closeness and the angles of the dancers' bodies throughout the dance works very well for those looking to steal. Don't fall for it. Just push them off you and check your pockets. Your best bet, of course, is not to walk on your own in the middle of the night down empty streets. I know this now...
Friday, 18 February 2011
The excellent Tameside nightlife-based magazine is out now. I've not got any writing in it this time around- juggling a lot at the moment- however check out my photo, where I'm holding the magazine copies, on page twelve.
Stay tuned for more issues!
Thursday, 17 February 2011
You can’t sneak up on Andy McNab, the former SAS man-turned-novelist. If you tried it, he’d probably snap your neck. On 26th January, he probably wasn’t expecting anyone to attempt that.
Furthermore, he probably wasn’t expecting anyone to climb over a row of chairs, trip up and noisily boot the seating over in the middle of the room. That, however, is how I inadvertently made my entrance at Deansgate Waterstones in Manchester. McNab- author of the iconic war journal Bravo Two Zero, the highest-selling war book of all time- was in town promoting his latest novel, Zero Hour.
“First off, I apologise for not being a big guy,” he said, in a strong cockney accent. On the table next to him was an artillery of his books, including the aforementioned two, along with Deep Black (which he later says was the easiest to write being set in his home town of London), Seven Troop and Crossfire.
He described his rise through the ranks of the army- and literature- right from his release from Borstal as a boy. During a stint in juvenile detention in London, he’d seen an army training video that had inspired him to sign up- largely because he and all his inmate friends wanted to be helicopter pilots.
He didn’t make the pilot position, but the Army did get him out of juvie and into work at 16.
It was during his first days of army training that McNab discovered he had the numeracy and literacy age of an 11-year-old. The Army taught him these key skills alongside his basic training, and he began to excel- but before he could get his teeth into writing, the job had to come first. He was posted to Gibraltar at 17.
The Army gave McNab the chance to experience what many of us never would: he admits wrecking cars on tours and getting away with it, he coerced Irish informants when fighting the IRA, and he hunted down cocaine producers in South American rainforests. He describes giving guns to the Colombian locals so they could assist in the stings. Even when armed, the locals were understandably nervous, so they chewed cocoa leaves and sugar canes to keep calm. Predictably, this would have the opposite effect, and McNab and his team had to take the guns back off them.
McNab returned to the UK and, in 1993, wrote Bravo Two Zero in a 4-month stint. He then went back to Colombia while the book sales rolled in.
In 1995 he received a phone call from Hollywood. A then-unknown director called Michael Mann needed technical advice on his film Heat. McNab obliged. To return the favour, Mann explained to McNab that films and books are much alike- “a collection of pictures” that tell a story. McNab used this advice to write Immediate Action, his first fiction book, which sold 1.7 million copies in the UK alone. (http://www.andymcnab.co.uk/bio.php?p=4)
A few years later, McNab received another Hollywood phone call. Ridley Scott was planning a dramatisation of an event during the Mogadishu conflict in 1993. Could he help out?
Of course he could. McNab added to his movie CV the role of technical advisor on Black Hawk Down.
“Y’know all the big muscley Special Forces guys in the movie?” McNab asked the Waterstones audience. “Sorry to break it to ya, girls. They were all gay.”
By the time Black Hawk Down was ready to film, conflict in North Africa was largely quelled. Scott needed well-sculpted extras to play the soldiers, but the remaining army personnel in the area were all getting fat. The director sent the production team to scout new talent. Where better to find ripped-up men than the local gay club?
Today, when he’s not writing or advising the movie industry, McNab visits the UK’s Army training centres, encouraging people who attend the numeracy and literacy courses. This gives him a chance to give back what they gave to him, and allows him to keep up-to-date with how the Armed Forces are operating.
“Soldiers don’t want their relatives to send them presents,” he said. “They want Wi-Fi. They say it’s so that they can keep in touch with their family, when really it’s mostly so they can download porn. One barracks had their server shut down on the first day Wi-Fi was installed, due to the sheer volume of porn the soldiers were accessing.”
A quick-fire question-and-answer session followed this.
“If I don’t know the answer,” said McNab, “I’ll lie, or I’ll say it’s classified.” He shrugged.
McNab’s real name is Sebastian Bartholomew (So he tells us. Wikipedia disagrees, saying his real name is a secret). He chose his pen name because “it fits on the book.” The numerous people adding to online debates as to what the name means, according to the author, are all wasting their time.
A young lad of maybe 12 asked, “Can you make a story about yourself in 6 words?”
Good question, I thought.
McNab leant back in his chair, thinking, eyes to the ceiling. “Generally, lazy,” he said, counting on his fingers, “but, got, to, work.”
You might think a 12-year-old not ready to read a novel about the horrors of modern war, but McNab insisted that the literacy age of his books is 12.
“When I describe a character, I’ll link it into something we all know. Like, I dunno, 'he's George Clooney on speed'.”
I'm sure he glanced at me when he said that.
“So it's accessible to a wide range of readers,” he explained.
“When you’re working with TV,” he said, “You need control. If the standard of the film or programme is low, your book sales go down.” We can expect he’ll be taking command somewhat when newby director Simon Crane adapts his novel Firewall for the big screen. Retitled as Echelon, the movie will hit cinemas in 2012/13.
Although the MoD inspired the majority of his stories, he told us that being married 5 times was a contributing factor in his motivation to write the array of novels that he has under his belt- most of which were elegantly piled up on a table at his side.
What about the Armed Forces' image in the media? Why are soldiers frequently portrayed as victims?
“Oh, it’s rubbish,” retorted McNab. “Young men,” he emphasised, “like to fight. That’s why they join the army. Soldiers today have never been better trained and have never had better armour. One guy I knew took a tank shell in the chest- and lived. The military today has become a brand on TV, and it's not realistic. Special Forces are looking to improve that brand.”
Scoop: Somalian piracy will be the theme for McNab's next novel.
There was no photography during the signing as the writer was apparently in cognito. This left me wondering who the man was, as he signed my book and shook my hand. Is it a joke? If he is a body double, I thought, as I gave him my blog card, why would he have a bodyguard, staring at me suspiciously? I'd best give him a card too...
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
Check this out, my friend.
Four acceptances at once.
That is how I roll.
High Coup magazine
Satisfies my needs hugely,
Why should all haiku
Be about nature and stuff?
Why not make me laugh?
High Coup magazine
Agrees one hundred percent.
I gave them poems.
They accepted some!
“The Gale” even received the
AWESOME SAUCE AWARD!
Much respect to all
involved with the magazine.
Glad to be a part.
Sunday, 6 February 2011
Club V on Manchester's Deansgate was probably the first house music club I ever visited. In 2002 I remember stepping down the narrow staircase and into the underground dance floor area. This was my introduction to high quality house music, opening my ears and mind. It was similar sounding to that heard on nearby bar hub Deansgate Locks, but this was louder and the punters were here for the music. They were here to dance. Unlike the Locks regulars, they didn't go out to pose.
As far as I can remember, drapes covered the walls and ceiling of the club- oranges and yellows bowing out on all sides, covering up giant speakers. Alcoves breaking off from the main area hosted secondary DJs, who were playing minimal techno to whoever wandered in.
Today Club V is Avici White- a brand new outlet offering up another high quality clubbing experience, and their “grand opening” almost lived up to expectations.
That underground feel has given way to a chic, whitewashed design- a nod to 1990's interior décor. The 9th century grade II listed building has been completely transformed (presumably not for the first time). I didn't even recognise the club, and I'd visited Club V a year ago.
The music is still brand new house, well-mixed and generally awesome. There was no mention of big-name DJs on the club's flyer, so we were all pleasantly surprised when Jon Fitz jumped on the decks for a quick set. Fitz, if you don't know, is one half of Herd n Fitz, a duo who had a Number 1 club hit in 2004 with I Just Can't Get Enough.
For a club as smart as this, the prices were fairly reasonable. There are more expensive places to drink in the city, and the £12 door entry isn't unusual for this kinda joint. The only problem was the lack of people. Considering it's in the middle of town, on a busy street, there really should have been more punters swinging by.
Having said that, the clientèle was good-looking- particularly the podium dancers (one of whom could easily pass as a double of pop star Rihanna).
Guest DJs soon to play Avici include Vula from Basement Jaxx, Stereo Sushi and Sandy Rivera. With a line-up like this, the club will soon be an icon of Manchester night life.
Saturday, 5 February 2011
Great Manchester is a Twitter page “Tweeting and RTing to the world about our great city of Manchester (UK)”.
It lives up to its name: I asked them if they could publicise this blog and try to find me some guest bloggers. I got a response from a writer within a day! Respect!
Stay tuned to see what literary gem she brings to the blog. In the meantime, if you want to join her and get your Manchester-based writing seen here, follow this...
Thursday, 3 February 2011
“I don't do moderation.”
- Mark Kermode, Film Critic
Busy busy busy. Travelling on the bus to various places has allowed for a lot of reading.
Mark Kermode’s autobiography, It’s Only a Movie, was funny and entertaining. The BBC film critic’s account of his crazy escapades in the film industry is addictive, albeit very nerdy. Loved that it gave Manchester’s media scene some exposure to UK readers. Read how I met Kermode here:
Predators. The movie. Could have been awesome. Was not. In this instalment, the predators pick the most dangerous fighters from around the world (American Special Forces guy, Mogadishu warlord, South American freedom fighter etc. Strangely, they all speak English). The predators abduct them and drop them on an alien planet to see how they fare as they stealthily hunt the humans down. Could have been great, but was merely silly. Needed to be rated 18, not 15. Did producers not learn from AVP? You can’t make a movie like this without a shitload of gory violence! Awful script. Like in AVP Requiem, it’s saturated with nods to the previous Predator movies which is entertaining at first but eventually becomes irritating . Strange ending. The thing that disappointed me about this was that this story had the most potential out of all the Predator movies. When you set SF on a distant planet, you can create a totally original world with its own rules and opportunities. This opportunity was drastically overlooked in Predators.
That is all.