I Have No Timeline And I Must Scream

Grr! Zack meet rub.

Facebook. We all have it. If we don't we're living under some clandestine rock as a societal pariah or we're my mum. But we're neither of those; we are the living, breathing, active members of a race that thrives on societal interactions. Every event that happens in our lives is now glorified on our walls, if it isn't it almost seems like it never happened. We have entered a new realm, one that needs to be documented and contrived to present a picture to our friends and family of our relationship status, our job title and our most base desires and preferences revolving around films, television and music. For years we were indoctrinated into presenting ourselves in a certain way to the World, one that felt safe and unintrusive. We could cocoon ourselves within this presentation and never physically speak about our online personas whilst always knowing that those we were closest to had at some point viewed the shared experiences and knowledge we had gained through status updates, video links and profound quotations hastily searched on brainyquote.com.

On Thursday October 6 2011, Facebook evolved. It was no longer a tool we humans used to interact with each other. Sentience had begun to formulate itself within the combined consciousness of more than two billion online subscribers. Without warning a new era unfolded amongst the social media generation, one that demanded placement of time, causality and predication. A timeline appeared, splitting the walls of many of these personas apart and breaking them up into well versed topics of activity, friends and utilisation. We were given the illusion of choice; stick within the confinements of our known boundaries or join the new age of Timeline, one that promised a new way of proffering our fleeting glimpses of reality to our nearest and dearest. This new Book gained preference by appeasing to our vanity. We were no longer only able to portray our most treasured photo to the masses, we were allowed to present a cover. This cover was at least six time the size of our previous instalment, it was presented in glorious widescreen Technicolor, it was possible to drag and fix to the utmost specifications of the user and those long forgotten holiday snaps of beaches and temples were finally given a usage. 

Who doesn't sit at their computer naked?

Those that chose to remain luddites of the previous Facebook era were shunned by the purveyors of the glossy new hierarchy of the Timeline feature. The tentacles of Artificial Intelligence had spread across most peoples sinewy jaws and cemented them shut in an attempt to suture Facebook's new law, that everyone and everything should be placed within an implementation of time and space; the Greatest Event ever Told. Those content to thrive in the new Facebook domain of popular culture looked down on the old ones, silent in their physical dominion but omnipresent in their internet sub-culture. And thus was the law of the new Facebook: Divide and Conquer. We remained as long as humanly possible, clinging onto our singular walls and accessible information, defiant in our last stand against the tides of change as palm trees buffeted by the storms of a tropical monsoon. One by one we fell as Facebook's determination strode on, sweeping us up in a torrent of inevitable newspaper articles and pertinent videos that required submission by viewing. 

Gone. Are we truly gone? The wind that passes over our tired husks breathes the hope of a new generation. Those of us that have switched to the new regime have no mirror, no opportunity to return to the solace of our previous virtual lives. Even this reviewer, in a semblance of martyrdom, has switched to the brutal tyranny of Timelime's monotheism to create this piece as a warning to those remaining few. But there is hope in those that have stayed true to the old ways. They that still uphold the values and meaningfulness of the neo-socialist movement of the pre-Timeline era remind of those simpler times. And hey, Maybe Mark Zuckerberg and his army of marketing executive goonies will realise that this time they really fucked up. Or we'll get used to it, like we always do.

Timeline gets a 3 out of 10 because I kind of really like the ability to make Dr. Rowan "Flinty Badman" Williams the Archbishop of Canterbury's face massive now, something which will become very useful in the upcoming months. You have been warned.

Davina Fit

"Will pose as teapot for money"

Hey fatty. Is it becoming a struggle to lift yourself off the sofa? Are children starting to point and laugh at you in the street? Has your gym membership got lost in the rolls of your belly flab? It's OK, I don't blame you because I understand it's not entirely your fault. Modern living has made you lazy; your television keeps you entertained whilst you force factory bred chicken wings down your bloated throat with podgy, grease-smeared fingers that you don't even have to leave the house for because someone gets paid less than minimum wage to deliver it straight to your door. You have everything you need right where you are, technological advancements at affordable prices have made it possible for anyone and everyone to enjoy the sedentary lifestyle which was once the sole luxury of the Royalty. Luckily for you, someone out there cares. Not just one person either, a veritable army of celebrities have rallied up in droves, abandoning their jungle camps and glittery ice skating tournaments to help you; Fatty McFattson, sort your life out via the visual medium of Celebrity Fitness Workout DVDs. It's time to dust off those jogging bottoms, crack out the rice cakes and warm ourselves up for an in-depth analysis of THE Super Celebrity Fitness Workout DVD of 2010: Davina Fit.

The box art is fairly self explanatory; there's Davina McCall, the ex-Big Brother presenter and inexplicably popular loudmouthed British household name, dressed in sporty gear and leaning against what appears to be some white structure, probably the pyramid of cocaine she bought from her last DVD sales. She's got the kind of body that you only get from having a personal trainer, following a strict dietary routine and access to all sorts of fancy gym equipment, but don't let that put you off buying the DVD, because it's Davina, the voice of the people and if she deserves to look that good then so do you girlfriend. Let's pop this sucker in and see what all the fuss is about.

She's in yellow, in case you forget who the queen bee is

Yeah! Title menu's! I always judge a good DVD by it's ability to have title menu's. And where is it more important to have title menu's than on a Super Celebrity Heavyweight Fitness Workout DVD?  OK, let's start with 'Introduction'. There's Davina, looking nice and toned and the camera's zooming towards here and she's saying stuff but I can't concentrate because it's all happening so fast and now she's gurning and what was that I don't even but it's OK because that's over now and we're moving onto the next topic and she's predictably fluffed her lines but she's carrying on because she's a professional and where the hell is the fitness this is just like some presenter trying out her half-assed comedy routine but no she's clapping her hands so it must be business time oh yeah quick transition of fitness montages and straight back to Davina for more gurning and predictable line fluffing and now it's over but wait did I learn anything it's not important because Davina McCall spoke personally to me. Well, I imagined 'Introduction' would be a basic rundown of some warm-ups and stretching exercises, but instead it's a rather bizarre story from Davina about how much she loves exercising. Now Davina, I have no problem with people being passionate about their work, but that's twenty minutes you just spent talking about it, by which time your audience have sat down and started stuffing themselves stupid with the nearest fatty food they can lay their hands on to quell the maddening disappointment at never  being able to be as enthusiastic about loving their own children as you are about keeping fit.

The next title selection is of the four 30 minute workouts; 'Aerobic Fit', 'Top Fit', 'Bottom Fit' and 'Kick Fit' and the bonus 'Yoga Stretch'. I went straight for 'Top Fit' because it sounded the most manly as there was no way I was about to watch the choreographed school disco which was undoubtedly going to be the premise of 'Aerobic Fit'. Finally we get to some actual workout routines. We're introduced to Davina's dopplegangers; ex-marine Mark who looks like a camp Jason Statham and ex-dinner lady Jackie who looks like she still is a dinner lady. Mark is the one who barks the orders for the two woman and yourself to follow,  and from his constantly bitter expression you can tell he's only getting paid a fraction of what Davina gets despite this being his carefully planned routine as her fitness instructor. Tough luck buster because that's the way the fitness world works, you spend hours training up some high-profile celebrity only for them to put their name to your technique and reap the rewards.

Yeah, probably best to leave the old one out for this

So we start with our warm-ups for five minutes and they're actually really good, I can feel my limbs stretching and toning already. I'm finding it a bit hard to try and not disturb the people living below me as much as possible so I lay some cushions on the floor as a noise dampener which works pretty well, (that's a protip for you lard bags living in shared accommodation. Write it down). Then, just as I'm feeling great about the whole thing and planning my next 6 months around doing this routine every day, Mark announces it's time to go and get the weights. I stare dumbfounded as they actually stop the routine to go and get their weights while I think; hang on, I don't have any weights, if I had weights I wouldn't need this stupid Super Celebrity Heavyweight Maximum Fitness Workout DVD. If I had weights Mark I would be doing some curls and dead-lifts right now without your stupid guidance, Davina's constant gurning or that tinny rendition of "I Feel Free" by Belinda Carlisle. I suppose for the 'Bottom Fit' they ask you to get your exercise bike out, and woe betide anyone who failed to buy a James Corden calender as target practice for 'Kick Fit'.

I don't know, I didn't check. I realised after the weight fiasco that I had left the front door on the latch, and my neighbours had more than likely walked past and seen my sliding around in my jogging bottoms on cushions whilst Davina McCall shouted at me to think of how good I would look in a bikini all year round. I don't care how good I was going to look in my bikini, I am not in the habit of making a fool of myself. 4 out of 10, because I at least learnt that gurning counts as exercise now.