Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Monday, August 04, 2003

Shania, The Terminatrix

WARNING: Contains spoilers for Terminator 3. Especially the end.

I do adore my wife Jef very much, despite his bizarre fixation with Shania ‘I can’t believe you kiss your cock at night’ Twain. All that leopard skin - it’s not befitting unless it’s worn by a) a Manchester barmaid or b) drag made up to look like a Manchester barmaid.

Shania Twain is one of the richest women in the world, thanks to her startlingly simple pop/rock/country cross-pollination that seems to have taken the world by storm by decree that you much have at least one of her albums in your collection. So far I have escaped, but Jef is more than happy to take up the slack, as it where. Thus, by association I am warming to her - anyone who can get away with writing the lyrics to Ka-Ching when they live in a chateau in Switzerland has to have some cohunes. Even more when they are obviously written in a lunch hour on the back of the fag packet and contain the ludicrous part-chorus of:

“Lots of diamond rings
The happiness it brings
You'll live like a king
With lots of money and things�

Also, is the dried up desert of That Don’t Impress Me Much symbolic? As she’s wandering through this dry landscape, men come along and it still remains as barren. Perhaps she should have gone the whole hog and been bouncing up and down on a hymen-like trampoline for the video, inviting men to come and bounce along beside her with no effect and a disgruntled look on her face. It would have certainly given that daft cloak she’s being strangled by a bit more to do.

But you do have to love the one light hat box she’s trolling along with her.

Which brings us on to Terminator 3 quite nicely. It is actually a very decent film with a shock-twist downbeat ending that leaves our two heroes trapped in a mountain retreat while the world ends nicely around them. This retreat was an old 1950s US government bomb shelter for the president, and our two heroes take up residence after being tricked into it by Arnie’s T101 (oh - watch out for Arnie playing ‘confused’ towards the end of the film as he beats up a car. It’s a laugh riot!) and kick back for a couple of years to come and save the human race. Jef and I didn’t take to the idea much, and would have been banging on the doors shouting ‘Let us out! Let us out! It’s so plain and utilitarian in here! Show some humanity and lock us in an Ikea for God’s sake!�

Shania wouldn’t have had such a dull bunker, you know. It would be stocked with Fabulous Things and have a leopard skin conference table where she would co-ordinate the salvation of the human race via the medium of song:

You know that they are wrong
So this is why I sing this song
To save us and Hong Kong
Who fires them must be a mong.�

Bless her.

I bet that one light hat box is lead-lined too…

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