Sucking the blood of popular entertainment
Top entertainment and listings magazines might pulp entire rainforests trying to make you go organic. But when the Leech goes, it won’t be to the nutrients of the soil, it’ll be to the fridge freezer, stuffed behind the leftover bubble and squeak and that ominous mystery meat. Apparently in Preston, the deceased now have a choice of burial, cremation or being dipped in liquid nitrogen at ?"196º. These deep frozen stiffs can then be turned into environmentally friendly dust and sprinkled over Lancashire bric-a-brac shops, or as Han Solo found, hung on the wall of a giant space slug’s bachelor palace. Either way, it’s got the Leech thinking about getting preserved for posterity or just running around as a zombie after karking it.
Then again, the Leech might follow the example of Saw III star Tobin Bell, who supplied a vial of his own blood as red ink for the film’s posters. There’s a precedent for this of course, with Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob Thornton exchanging vials of claret before their wedding. And the whiff of Johnny Vegas’ excrement lingering around the release of Sex Lives of The Potato Men.
A lobotomy is pretty much a lifestyle choice nowadays anyway. Anyone who’s sought enlightenment on such diverse subjects as teenagers, eating disorders or Islam will know that Ofcom guidelines now stipulate all television documentaries must be fronted by Peaches Geldof. No matter, because the Leech is preoccupied with the trailer for Grind House, an upcoming undead fest from Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, featuring Hispanic double-hard, scarred bastard Danny Trejo snarling and wading through a sea of gore and severed limbs. Mind you, the Leech got equally excited about the trailer for Kill Bill, so expect this to be every bit as flashy, chop socky and a teensy bit shit.
Perhaps ITV have forgotten the enduring appeal of zombies after cancelling their coverage of the Chainsaw Awards in Los Angeles, a ceremony with such award categories as ‘Most Thrilling Killing’, ‘Highest Body Count’ and ‘Screenwriter Not Held Enough As A Child’. Meanwhile, the BBC is displaying no such squeamishness about screening footage of Richard Hammond’s 300mph crash, rejecting its original plan to simply shoot a hamster in a ball, set it alight and kick it down a hill. A proper Top Gear reconstruction of the incident is scheduled to air soon, something the Leech urges all right-minded viewers to boycott and decry, prolonging as it will the career of Jeremy Clarkson.