OVERSIZED CANOE!

Oh but that's nothing, Izzy you suck, your dancing skills are been officially superseded, you should pack in your nascent Zeppelin dancing career and become a stripper, taking off your feathers one at the time for a menagerie of leering budgerigars, cuckoos, and various other birds (oh my god wouldn't that be so funny: a strip club full of birds and a plucked naked bird on the stage while Flo'Rider plays!)

Because this parrot is a bonefied headbanger, seriously he's like me when I was a confused 16 year old and whenever someone would play a cover of Metallica I swung my shoulder length hair around like a helicopter and probably broke someone's nose, I don't remember, I was too into the terrible cover of Master of Puppets… anyway - here's a dancing Parrot

Now by this point you're probably thinking that's simply a curious coincidence, that there is no correlation between the greatest post-Beatles band of all time and Parrots -- but then I remind you that Robert Plant has a very distinct voice, a at times shrill voice…. And then I show you this video:

Laszlo likes Led Zeppelin

Yes! It's a Parrot singing along to D'yer Ma'ker!! How can this be! Sure he can only sing the "uh oh… oh oh" part, which by the way is almost certainly where Beyoncé ripped off the hook for Single Ladies- fuck you Beyoncé - actually I don't care, I just wanted to be provocative and see what would happen if I attacked her -- so where was I? Hmmm Zeppelin… Parrots? Pirates? Caribbean? Reggae -- oh that's right D'yer Ma'ker.

I mean the Parrot is actually singing the hook! It's not just bopping along to Bonham's drumming, it's actually mimicking a vocal melody from the song - this is mind blowing. This is another dimension of Zeppelin's music which is appealing to Parrots - is there some sort of animal cognitive science I'm missing out on here. Maybes it's because Led Zeppelin being debaucherous rockstars have imbued their music with a sort of intrinsic Piratical nature - after all the working class communities they came from would have been where Pirates came from centuries before - and Parrots, which in my childish mind are interwoven forever with Pirates are always, and forever attracted to anything Piratical?!

No, absolutely not… but here's some other videos of less talented Parrots getting their Plant on:

Parrot loves Led Zeppelin!

Don't quit your day job - which I assume is eating seeds and shitting them out.

Turn your volume down for the next one

Is he trying to sing the song, or mimicking the guitar solo. You know what I mean when you go "beeeskidiplididododod likeel likeel likeel likeel likeel wahhh! Weeeee!" - What you don't do that when you want to play a guitar solo but don't have a guitar… okay ignore that.

Here's the thing, whether you're an artist or a currency trader, or a Machiavellian entrepreneur intuition isn't enough. Just like getting a piece of beautiful marble doesn't make a sculpture, it takes hours and hours of methodical but aesthetically inspired carving, sanding, chiseling to produce the Winged Victory of Samothrace.

(I’ve edited most of these quotes to cut out the bits about expertise)

And also years and years of development of talent behind.

The reason why in the 1940's Looney Tunes were so amazingly innovative and fluidly animated (despite budgets and turnarounds a fraction of that at Disney) was because by my calculations each A-Animator (animator who produced more than 20 seconds of animation per week) would produce at least 12,000 drawings a year. If you got hired in say 1934, early on in the studio when the animation was crude and unrefined, and were there during they heyday in the early 40's, you perhaps would have drawn up to 96,000 frames of animation! Once you get to that level of experience, your motor skills will be so refined that even the most complex shapes and forms will be almost autonomic.

From this... 

To this...

Jimmy Page and John Frusciante -- my idols, alongside Miuccia Prada -- were no slackers either, John Frusicante estimates he would spend at least 10 hours a day playing guitar between ages 15 to 19, and anywhere up to 15.

Jimmy Page said at his peak he was doing 3 recording sessions per day 6 days a week. He's known to have worked on at least 170 music session, and since in the 60's one session could last between 3-6 hours that puts the lower level of his recording, not practicing, just recording at 510-1200 hours over a 4 year period. That doesn't include muzak sessions, soundtrack recordings for films and advertising so the figure could be double that. Plus he would be playing in his spare time…

That's how you make a guitar prodigy who turns the strings into a natural extension of their emotive capacity, the reason it looks so effortless is because of the hours and hours of dedication turning the muscle movements into autonomic, reflex non-cerebral in the literally "by-passing brain" sense actions.

So too the reason why Tom Ford is such a commercially successful designer probably has an awful lot to do with the fact he went to Parsons and got a degree in Architecture which would have taught him Art History, given him the vocabulary to describe what he intuitively desires in a item of clothing or a collection… he also spent like 4 years in New York fashion houses learning how to respond to market trends and demands in a brutally businesslike fashion. All that serves to support his raw talent, otherwise he'd just be some dude sewing the odd piece of idiosyncratic trousers in his converted study, with no-one buying.

I think it's really fucking insidious this notion that we "over think" and we're too "analytical" and need to listen to our unconscious bullshit, it's giving licence for people to be irrational about their life decisions.

It's all part of this internet culture of sleeping in as being the holy grail and shit. It's so icky feeling.

The other side of it is that all this feel-good "follow your heart" maxims totally ignore the fact that when you do something enough it becomes autonomic, it becomes unconscious, it becomes non-cerebral -- like a Formula One driver who instinctively knows the braking points and gear shifts for the next corner without even looking at the apex (the fact these dudes can consistently get it right 50-60 times in a row with an average speed of over 250km/h is a testament to the phenomenal capacity of human reflexes, and what learning your craft can accomplish).

I think it also describes something at the heart of being a "master" in the old Teutonic sense of how you would progress in crafts from being a apprentice, to a journeyman, to a master - it doesn't matter if you want to be a master investor, a entrepreneur, a fashion designer, or a musician - the same principal applies: supporting your raw talent with hundreds and thousands of hours of dedicated honing of your skills, craftsmanship etc.

A skateboard kick sends a cop car hurtling into the air and my dick splits my laptop in half because it became erect so fucking quick when I saw that. Inexplicably a pair of tan coloured aviators with gold frames appeared on my face as I sunk back and watched this marvel of a film on the remains of my dick-splitted half-top.

Little did I realize I was going to be taken on a trip like that dude in the Borges story about the Aleph, except instead of a fly's eye view of every human face in the earth -- it was a fly's eye view of an awesome sandwich on multi-grain awesome bread, with a big juicy patty of awesomeness, liberally jizzed over with a spray of saucesome's awesome sauce - and a dill pickle for taste.

I realized I was being lead to an alchemist's chamber - it's like this dude, whoever the fuck he is had managed to take Garth Marghengi's Dark Place, Superjail!, Black Dynamite, Miami Vice and about a thousand band 80's movies and bended them with the cut off ends of a VHS tape and a sprinkle of coriander to create the most perfect artifact since Prince strummed out the chords to 1999 probably while banging about forfty different women with his relatively large musician's wang - an a Borgesian performance of Aelph-like dickmanship.

But this isn’t about Prince and his feats of dicksmanship – although now that I think about it Kung Fury is that degree of dicksmanship, okay, there's GTA like nobodies running around with boomboxed and automatics, Hitler killing an entire cop-station through shooting through a brick phone, and Kung Fury himself falling into his car, but not before shooting the door open of his magnificent Lambrghini Countach -- the greatest car ever made anywhere ever with the possible exception of the Lotus Esprit LOL JOKE MOTHERFUCKERS - AIN'T NO CAR AS DANK AS THE COUNTACH.

This film is like a barrage of fists, or wait was that a scene from the film? Wait yes - it's both - apt metaphor motherfuckers! Because after the deliciously mulleted Hackerman, just one of the amazing characters to have their own fucking 80's themesong in this film sends Kung Fury skateboarding backwards in a goddamn commodore or spectrum ZX or some retro nerd shit which is awesome… oh wait I forgot… to send Kung Fury on his time-travelling skateboard, he needs to use a powerglove.

A powerglove. A motherfucking powerglove! Gratuitous, yes? Adds nothing to the plot, Absolutely! Pandering to the crowd, again the answer is a resounding yes: but is it more awesome than a date with Cara Delavigne, I'm going to say hell yes (although if you're willing to prove me wrong Cara, maybe we can see a movie together -- I hear Kung Fury is pretty good -- as said in reviews like this one you're reading right now)

So by this point you're probably furiously masturbating to the violet, 1980's, electogasm spectacle that is Kung Fury and now in a post coital haze of regret which I assume you is totally normal, you're probably starting to feel pretty bad about your life.

And you should, I mean seriously what have you done with your life, think about all the missed opportunities in your life such as why you didn’t make Kung Fury or go backwards in time and beat Prince to recording 1999?

Now because everyone is an idiot and needs simple soundbites to have ill-informed opinions to live their lives by here’s my rating out of 8: I vote this album 8… as in all 8 of Led Zeppelin's official album releases. This is the highest honour I can bestow upon any film.

But don't take my word for it! Here are some totally legit reviews from famous people I totally spoke to this morning:

"I came back from the dead just to watch this film" -Benjamin Disraeli, former something or-other of British Empire

"I may corrupt the good name of Soccer on a daily basis, but nothing can corrupt the splendour of Kung Fury" • Sepp Blatter

"No I won't give you a quote Constantine, get fucked, that movie is just a teenage pandering piece of shit." • My Roommate… he's a fool

"It certainly beats getting hit in the dick by a hammer" • 'Understatement' Eugene

"When I'm not having creepy sex, I like to watch Kung Fury while eating the thousands of pudding pops I got in the 80's" • Bill Cosby

"The day I stop drinking is the day I marry you off to some  rich, dumb broad and you're out of my life forever" • My Mother (I don't know how that relates to the film either, or relates to anything, but she insisted I included it during her weekly drunken rant mobile call to me… come to think of it it might not even really be my mother...)

"Kung Fury. K-uh-ng F-joo-ree. Light of my loins. Fury of my fate." -the ghost of Vladimir Nabokov

So now that you're totally sold on this gun toting, Viking ridden, time travelling spectacle of transcendence excellence you may want to spare a thought for poor old Constantine.

I mean in the space of thirty movements I was moved from a mundane procrastination, the perfectionist proclivities that have bridled me to the troika of ego, fear, and muse has brought me to a halt. I question how I a mere mortal could ever attain the stratospheric heights of such a creation, something which hath so diligently married my love of the video tape form, the products -- the long forgotten computers of our childhood have been given a brief spark of life, implanted for a brief moment a soul so they can live again.