Issue #1

October 2010

Le Hip du Hop

Support, Collaborate,Contribute.

Every photograph is the first frame of a movie.

To contribute to Le Hip du Hop seek us out in the crowd, pray to Le Hip du God or just email

[email protected]

Founder/Editor-in-ChiefPaul Railton

Art/DesignPaul Railton

Stephen Heaney

Contents

ContributingWritersSimon Dowling

Donnacha Coffey

Cian O’Toole

Jonny Fun

Contributing PhotographersPaul Railton

Eoin Heaney

IllustrationJessica Tobin

Hefty Horse

Eoin’s European Adventure

Heroes of Douchebaggery

Fun Corner

If you haven’t seen...

Healthcare Reform

This issue would not be possible without the help from the contributors and the people who read it. We endevour to bring people together and inspire creative ca-maraderie.

Enjoy our first issue

Here at Hefty Horse we gather our favourite local bands, the odd international act, a good-looking venue and mix them all together to create our gigs. These gigs run pretty randomly but you can usually catch one on a Sunday or Monday.

I now present you with a brief outline of whats to come over the next month:

October 24th/Anseo: Kramies + Walpurgis Family + You Kiss By The Book

Reason To Go: A joint Poltergeist Records and Hefty Horse presentation brings the wonderful talents of Colorado based singer to Anseo. Kramies has toured with giant talents like Grandaddy, Calexico and Red House Painters and sits somewhere in a similar vein.

October 25th/Whelans Upstairs: Land Lovers + Drunken Boat + Kramies

Reason To Go: Free entry, new songs by both Land Lovers and Drunken Boat and another chance to catch Kramies.

October 27th/Whelans Upstairs: At Last An Atlas + Sacred Animals + Cfit

Reason To Go: Sacred Animals and Cfit make their Hefty Horse debut. Expect some beep-bleeps and quiet melodies.

November 7th/Anseo: Rozi Plain + Valerie Francis + Capital Trid

Reason To Go: Rozi Plain is a member of the Fence Collective, which includes bands such as King Creosote and James Yorkston, don’t miss a chance to see her first Dublin headline gig after a wonderful support slot to Devendra Banhart earlier this year.

by Simon Dowling

Paul

Rai

lton

Heroes of Douchebaggery by Paul Railton

Robin Friday was born in Lon-don in 1952. He spent most of his chaotic young life in and out of borstal homes. His early footballing career is equally vague until he first showed up on the radar playing for non-league Hayes in 1972.

But that was about to change as Reading drew Hayes in an early round in the FA Cup. And although Reading won the match 4-1, then man-ager Charley Hurley had seen enough in the talented centre forward to sign him up after the match.

In hindsight they probably hadn’t seen enough, one re-ported incident whilst playing for Hayes saw the team start a match with 10 men as Friday hadn’t finished down the pub.

He arrived late and was so intoxicated he could barely stand up. He staggered his way around the pitch until, in typical Friday fashion, he scored the winner as Hayes ran out 1-0.

There was no doubt Friday was blessed with the kind of talent that most profession-als can only dream of. But he smoked to excess, he drank to excess and he took drugs

like there was no tomorrow. In a league match against Tranmere Rovers he scored such an unbelievable goal that all the opposing players and even the referee could do was stop and applaud, he ran behind the goal to the crowd when he noticed a police man also applauding, Friday ran straight up to him and kissed him!

After the match the referee asked Friday “What are you doing playing at this level? I’ve never seen anyone score a goal like that” Friday quipped “You clearly don’t come down here often, I score goals like that all the time!”

His time at Reading was marred by his of the field an-tics, Friday had a fondness for stealing clothes, posing as a train station security guard so he could get free tickets and robbing statues from grave yards.

After one monumental drink and drugs binge he turned up to a team meeting shortly before a match naked but for a swan he had managed to acquire from a nearby lake!

Shortly after that incident he was sold to Cardiff City for a measly £30,000. On his arrival in Cardiff, Friday was arrested in the train station after fare dodging. The night before his debut for Cardiff, Friday want on a pub crawl to test the Car-diff nightlife. He was out until five in the morning, he then went out the next day and scored twice on his debut. He continued in this vein, scoring one of his most famous goals where he beat four players before scoring, giving their goalkeeper a two fingered sa-lute as the ball sailed past him into the goal.

Shortly after Friday would play his last ever match at the age of 25. During this match Friday was getting so frustrated by the close attention he was being given by young Irishman Mark Lawenson that at the first opportunity he kicked him full into the face. Friday was sent off immediately but he wasn’t finished there, Friday broke into the away dressing room and def-ecated into Lawrenson’s bag before disappearing.

And at the age of 25 his short career was over. He had only played 20 games for Cardiff, scor-ing six goals. He was named their best player of all time in 2006. Reading’s also.

Robin Friday died of a heart attack in 1990 at the age of 38.

Its up to you whether you think of him as a hero or a douche bag. As the Super Furry Animals wrote in the song they penned in his honor... The man don’t give a fuck.

mad for:

1. eyes down!

2. shouting “house” (at the right time).

3. seemingly arbitrary reasons for naming stuff in bingo lingo but hoping there is a logic. e.g. 67 - argumentative number, or - 76 was she worth it.

4. prizes!

5. the fun + usefulness of numbers combina-tion.

6. big markers.

7. one day playing american bingo.

8. one fat lady.

9. lines.

10. finding out if she was worth it.

not mad for:

1. struggling to shout “house” ‘cos you get stage fright.

2. shouting “house” and not having the right numbers. chancers!

3. bingo lingo that might have been made up on the internet but i can’t be sure.

4 online bingo killing the essence of a social game for women of a certain age.

5. bingo wings (see 4).

in summary: mad for bingo.

mad for / not mad for:

a fun game for all occasions. make two columns and decide if you are mad for/not mad for something]

#1 - bingo!

Fun Corner with Jonny Fun

Visioneers

Zach Galifianakis is the fun-niest man on the planet, now there’s no way to prove this but it is a fact. Who is this odd named fellow you ask? Well more commonly known over here as that beardy guy from the Hangover, Galifi-anakis has spent years bring-ing a slanted edge to eve-rything he’s involved in be it stand up comedy, a short lived late night chat show, or a Kanye West video. Vi-sioneers offers Zach his first leading role,unexpectedly it’s not a flat out comedy, it is a very original and very memorable oddball sci-fi movie, it just happens to be a very funny film aswell. It features a great score from Tim DeLaughter (from the Polyphonic Spree) and one of the best recurring visual gags ever.

If you haven’t seen it...by Donnacha Coffey

Greenberg

Stiller is refreshingly good here, not afraid to under-sell a joke or do things that could totally alienate the au-dience. The film is populated by richly drawn characters that could easily carry the film themselves, Greta Ger-wig deserves special note for inhabiting her character so naturally and comfort-ably that to call it a perform-ance would be a disservice. Greenberg was somewhat unfairly overlooked at the box office here, dismissed as too arty by the mainstream crowd and too Ben Stillery by the arthouse crowd, it’s out now on DVD and it’s a perfect time for people to get to see it.

My Son My Son, What Have Ye Done

If you enjoyed the abso-lutely bonkers Bad Lieuten-ant: Port Of Call New Orle-ans, I can’t recommend this film enough. Herzog shot the two films almost back to back, and is a bit more sub-dued here (I saw a bit be-cause the film features mys-tical swords, ostrich farms and Godly cans of oats). It’s not going to get as much at-tention as Bad Lieutenant, but the film is actually more rewarding on multiple views and is definitely a must see for fans of early Herzog.

On the morning following a drunken eve past. When you wake to the most ungodly fits of coughing, wheezing and hee-hawing. You venture down to the guy who can sort you out, and only after many an expense later spent on appointments and work ups, the nurse greets you, only to report back in closure to the multitude of tests and prodding... “ The doctor found a knife in your chest... “

She alerts you to the horror that the big thing sticking out from your core isnt suppose to be so. And then follow the hours heaved around to every which department and ward from brainolgy to that room with Mr. Potato heads everywhere, paying pockets full along the way.

And so when you’ve been hard done by the Irish healthcare system. You return home and begin to write a strongly worded letter, ringing holy hell to those brute bastards who ripped you off. Frankenstein’s that stuck you with needles, stuck you with a finger up the arse, and then stuck you with the bill. Leaving you only with the knowledge, that your doomed any which way.

You have to be on the ready for these whack-job screwballs. A friend once advised me “never trust a doctor who doesn’t look you directly in the eye.” I said “no, never trust an optometrist that doesn’t look you directly in the eye.”

Sure I can continue on this here depraved tirade. I have been given column inches. A place as to where I can simply list all the people and things I don’t like and say, “pricks, you’re all pricks.”

EUGENE JETSON, you sordid degenerate, loony misfit freak of a beast, everybody hates you, trees, mountains, squirrels, flamingos, emotionless robots all have very real and very strong feel-ings of contempt towards you, you mess of a man. Death makes sense in the understanding that it gets painful to even share an existence with you, Eugene, you backward lunatic.

But of course it’s easy to run riot on a demented frenzy of moaning and complaining, cursing the Eugene Jetson’s and Irish healthcare systems of the world. I however choose at this point to atone and strike a more civilized chord. Right the wrongs of ghastly actions past. Uphold the rule that “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

And now on the eve before going to press, after giving my word to write something for this most holy and true of publications. Having pushed the deadline to the last with this final desperate attempted mental heave-ho to produce some sort of a coherent narrative. Im only recommend-ing now the ideology of “if nothing nice to say, say nothing at all” because I’m only hours away from being on the other end of the critical scale. I’ll have something out there, and I don’t stand behind it by any means. And come tomorrow im going to be a literary lamb to the critical slaugh-ter. Karmically I have it coming. I have gone to town in to most horrid of fashions in negatively branding each facet of media all across the board. I’m a fiend, able to dish it out but not able to take it. I’ve ill spoke of friend’s albums, books, and photography for too long. But just take stock to the fact I was roped into this... And if you don’t have anything nice to say about it, then keep zippo.

Healthcare Reformby Cian O’Toole

Jess

ica

Tobi

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