Wednesday, 27 November 2019

SHOCK AS MORE FAMOUS PEOPLE DIE OF OLD AGE.


Millions of emotionally infantilised half-wits have taken to the Afterlife Internet, sending their condolences on his death - at eighty - to Aussie Chinwagger and Champion Gabshite, Clive James.


 A member of Celebrity's Charmed Circle, James was known for his literary pretension and his sneering. That cultural giant, the Daily Mail, proclaimed that James  died surrounded by his friends and his books.  Me, personally, I can think of nothing, absolutely nothing worse than dying surrounded by others; fuck that for a game of soldiers. Still, no business like showbusiness.

 Disappointingly, Lord Death and his Sergeants failed to simultaneously harvest the unspeakable antipodeans,


 Barry Humphries, 
the  pornstar professor and pisshead, Dame Germaine Greer 


and that surviving ugly bloke bastard from the BeeGees,


 a woefully unappealing trio of falsetto warbling popsingers who somehow managed to escape their just transportation to Australia and then infest the radio waveband of Eternity with shrieking, agonising disco music.
 Jive talking, they called it.

Another celebrity culled at only eighty was self-publicist and polymath, Dr Jonathan Miller. 

 A current Radio 4 dramadoc series reveals that Johnny, despite his self acclaimed brilliance, was a casualty of the birthing wars of the National Theatre, a victim of towering thespian towering giant, the towering 



Sir Peter Hall and never really worked again, unless it was in the construction of toweringly facetious abstract sculpures.  One of those gifted men, Jonathan, could turn his hand to anything, badly.

My only knowledge of his work is his dismissive critique, still here, on my shelves, of  Marshal McLuhan's seminal Understanding Media, a work which resonates the louder with every passing decade.


 It was McLuhan who, in the '60's,  coined the phrase and thus the consciousness of  what is now the everydayism of the Global Village. McLuhan's perspicacious understanding of what we now call media, what he properly saw as extensions of self, foreshadowed the corrosive and all-consuming juggernaut of social media, McLuhan declaring that in an age of electronic media, minority groups could no longer be suppressed; his aphorism that individual consciousness is an evolutionary dead end is vividly accentuated as billions upon billions grasp futilely  for  roast-beef-dinners, i-things, dish washers and BMWs. Miller, an airhead dilettante, dismissed McLuhan's insights and prophecies as the ramblings of a provincial Canadian academic. No tears, here, therefore, in Ishmaelia, for the passing of another lucky Oxbridge dunderhead.


In other Dead News, celebrity shit-peddlars are aghast at the death of Sir Gary Sugar.

 
 Gazza, for a long time the public face of the British Sugar Corporation, entreated children and their parents to stuff their faces with his patron's product, never troubling his rock-star head with thoughts about obesity, heart disease and Type 2 diabetes, conditions which he enthusiastically promoted, the cunt. 

Speaking for the entire food-whore industry, the BBC's Sir Gary Crisps  

 said that he was totally and absolutely gutted by the death of his old mate, Gazza.
 I mean, I sell greasy, salty and entirely unhealthy products to generations of children. The BBC only pays me a million and a half pounds per year to talk shit about football. How'm I supposed to make ends meet if I don't earn a crust from poisoning the little ones? 
And so it was with Gary Rhodes, selling poison to children. 'Snot like he was a drug dealer or anything, is it?

25 comments:

SG said...

I have slightly more time for Mr Humphries Mr I, as he said of himself, in the FT, way back up the road:

“I had a friend in Salzburg who was in the German embassy in the late 1930s working with von Ribbentrop, whom he despised, as everyone did,” Humphries says. “He was an old SS man, he died last year. I called his widow and expressed my sympathy and she said she ‘It’s so funny you should have called, Barry, because Reinhardt and I vere talking about you just before he died.’ And I said, ‘Oh what did he say?’ And she said, ‘“It’s extraordinary,” he said, “you know zat Barry Humphries, ze Führer would have adored him.”

The others, hell yes, throw them under the bus...


call me ishmael said...

That whole luvvie drag thing irritates me, mr sg, doesn't matter who's doing it, it is always contemptuous of half the population and seeking a conspiratorial alliance with the other half.Dame Edna is like Billy Connolly, like a forced laughter camp. He's croaking too, isn't he, Connolly, and making as big a song and dance about it as James.

Anonymous said...

"Fender Gluidity, my asspussy", as J.Edgar Hoover used to say...

v./

call me ishmael said...

What?

SG said...

Indeed Mr I, but no matter how hard you prick it, the Celebre-sphere appears to be impervious to the laws of gravity. Regarding the Dame, I found the ‘Cultural Attaché’ to be a more agreeable personae. Meanwhile, it takes a couple of ‘bum boys’ (absent tank tops but fully clothed) to call all this shit out, that’s going on (apart from your good self - there long before...). They’re a wee bit ‘up themselves’ but nonetheless:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIJPUX6SYu4

Anonymous said...

Apologies - that was over-elliptical - I just meant that cross-dressing & gender-fluidity are (inter alia) cultural embodiments of spoonerism. And J.Edgar liked a nice frock on a good night out, by some accounts.

v./

call me ishmael said...

Yeah, I like Sir Les, too.It is hard to find a worst-of celebrity moment but Jools Holland stuttering to Sir Tom Jones about Good Music is a bottomless pit of banality. I will look at that tomorrow, thanks, mr sg.

call me ishmael said...

Thanks, mr verge, I see, now. Thought you were talking about 'lectric guitars.

SG said...

Yes - bear with it Mr I, it gets quite interesting once you get past the ‘buy my book’ schtick!

mongoose said...

The young people are into collecting virtual Scout badges of their wokeness. If you aren't gay, you can still get one for pretending to be bi - or one of the other roads even less travelled. This is all good fun until it starts to involve the damaging of mental health, and indeed bodily health, risk and inventory. The poor kids are traumatised into thinking everything an emergency capable of immediate solution. Climate emergency, extinction emergency, gender emergency. It is all unfathomably wicked and trivialises what is actually important when such comes along.

Clive wasn't a bad lad but his supposedly sardonic delivery with the inappropriate tonal hiccough was deeply irritating. I would have thought that a man of his advantages would have had access to a proper actor or comedian or two who might have helped him learn to deliver a line. His relentless taking of the mickey of the idiotic japanese TV ordeal show will in time prove to have been just another brick in the wall of cruelty tv. Candid Camera is part of a continuum that currently has that other Australian (jungle) rubbish as its extreme.

Miller? Lord, he was a damaged lad for all his wit. Of course, a good Socialist boy, he sent his kids to state schools in London and then berated them for failing to come up to scratch. Such a clever idiot. Such an arse.

Mike said...

Not sure the world is a better or worse place for the passing of these celebs.

I've just been to the doc. Minor thing, a fungal ear infection, but annoying. Seems to happen at this time of year. Something in the air. Mr Pug has the same problem, but gets excellent treatment at the vets - he's a celeb of sorts.

The GP service here is very good, and they take time to evaluate everything - maybe too much time. Given I'm over 60, after dealing with the ear thingy, he quizzed me about getting 2-yearly bowel screening (I did one, but poking in one's own shit is a bit off-putting), and cardi-vasular screening, blood tests etc. I told him I was in training for a 1000km walk next year and didn't want any bad news. And anyway, playing golf everyday is hard enough without distractions. He asked if I had any family history. I told him my ancestors were champion archers who fought at Agincourt. He asked if my dad smoked; I told him he fought in N Africa for 5 years, so I expect so.

In the end, as I told him, the Grim Reaper will call.

mongoose said...

Well, Mr Mike, 8:16 in Hanoi. It's time for breakfast.

Mike said...

Mr mongoose: go for it, the ga. BTW my daughter is over there at present. If you see a 6 foot drop dead gorgeous bird in a bar, don't buy her a drink. Very high maintenance.

mongoose said...

Aren't they all, Mr Mike, aren't they all?

It is cool here - well, 15C at night - and they are all swaddled as if about to drop frozen on the wing. My favourite bar girl (that's the grouchy one - but the only one who notices when I have finished my beer) is wearing a knee length quilted coat/wrap thing that would not be out of place in Bergen in February.

Had fruit this morning, and jammy toast. And about six cups of tea. I am beginning to like some of their tea too. Had eaten nothing but aircraft dross for 24 hours and was hungry. Apologies. But tomorrow we are out early and the boys will eat pho by the side of the road. God help me, I will be as brave as he made me.

SG said...

Another observer chronicles the folly of the ‘new people’ - the first piece of sense I’ve seen on the matter (other than that anticipated by our host at many junctures back up the road...):

https://blogs.spectator.co.uk/2019/12/the-failed-lessons-of-the-london-bridge-attack/amp/?__twitter_impression=true







Mike said...

Mr SG: I had read that piece, and Douglas Murray is one of the few to stick his head above the parapet on Islamism. But, I suggest he is addressing the problem several stages removed. De-radicalisation (it failure, or more correctly its snake oilism) isn't the issue. For me, its why would you allow an alien culture from the third world into the UK. Can't remember which Labour luminary it was who admitted it was to rub the Tories noses in it. FFS. Then compound the problem by joining in the US illegal wars in the Middle East; getting involved in all sorts of dubious ops (eg white helmets, chemical weapons false flags etc). Then wonder why the want to rape the girls and hate whitey. Its too late, I'm afraid.

mongoose said...

It's not necessarily too late, Mr Mike. Look at Yugoslavia. That's what happens. Look at London Bridge last week. Four lads hounded the miscreant out with a spear and a fire extinguisher and were busy beating the bastard to death before the bobbies came and sent him on his heavenly way. One day soon a bunch of Northern rapist lads will get a very ugly comeuppance and then we'll see. It is not fair, nor seemly, nor right in any way but it is inevitable.

Pho ga? (And my minder probably took me to a very nice one.) It's alright, Sir, quite easy-to-eat actually - the ga bit not being the point - but it's not for breakfast, not early, not for my Irish palette. Of course, now I'm bloody ravenous.

SG said...

Mr Mike, in defence of Mr Murray - he addresses the point you make, in his book “The Strange Death of Europe”, and he doesn’t hold back. The Labour luminary was Andrew Neather, an advisor and speech writer for a certain former PM:

https://rationalwiki.org/wiki/Andrew_Neather

I share Mr Mongoose’s more optimistic outlook. There are emerging signs that the public are no longer willing to put up with being terrorised and bullied by imbeciles, as we saw with the XR maniacs being ripped off the roof of a tube train and thrown to the ground...

Mike said...

MR mongoose and Mr SG: I truly hope you are correct and the Yeomen are reasserting themselves. If they do, in sufficient numbers, then the politicians may cotton on to where the votes lie and act accordingly. I've revisited the UK 3 times in the last 15 years, and the change (for the worse) has been palpable. There are many deeply rooted forces and institutions to overcome - Mr Murray's own article about the Government-funded industry of "de-radicalisation" is proof to that. To my mind, the key to all this is for the UK to throw off the yoke of the EU and the US and rediscover itself. At this point, I'm not as optimistic as you are.

Mike said...

Mr mongoose: the Pho will make a man of you. After all, it defeated the US. I've totally embraced the (3000+year)SE Asian culture of holistic medicine. Food, massage, exercise.

Mike said...

Mr mongoose: sad to hear of the passing of Bob Willis. Good obit in the Telegraph, not behind paywall. I still vividly remember Headingly 81, called Botham's test, but it was Bob what won it.

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/cricket/2019/12/04/bob-willis-former-england-captain-dies-aged-70/

mongoose said...

Great days, Mr Mike. I watched in the telly, 20 years young. These things shouldn't be possible in proper cricket matches although they happen all the time in the sort of rubbish ordinary folk play.

Bob had a proper fast bowler's attitude too. Any tailender hanging around for more than five minutes was likely to get one up the throat. Poor old Iqbal Qasim, was it? Made the mistake of swishing and oustaying his welcome. Bob went around the wicket - bowling more or less from behind the eegit - and smacked one in his helmetless mush. The poor lad had an average lower than mine and barely knew a bat from a laundry basket.

mongoose said...

BTW Mr Mike, I have discovered Vietnamese coffee. Realising I was ignorant and that they probably didn't have any Gold Blend, I got myself advised by my incredibly impressive minder lad, who shames me. And I thought that I was polite. He took me to a sliver of a shed down a "ngo" back alley. (All of life's tapestry was to be seen down there and we didn't get but a quarter way in. Small mercies...) Anyway, I hoovered up enough to last until my next visit and then a bit more - samples whistled up of everything, beans blended, ground by a waif, vacuum-packed/heat-sealed into her smaller packets to keep fresh for longer because I was an idiot buying too much at a time, notations on the packets, sober and somewhat severe instructions how to make coffee properly... It cost me nothing. Tsin tutted that she had charged about 20% over local prices for my being a foreigner. I think he thinks he let me down. That was a couple of quid, I reckon, maybe three.

I quite like Vietnam. Alas, leaving tomorrow. And have made the damn installation work - no excuse to come back anytime soon unless some bugger breaks it for me.

Mike said...

There is a very good coffee shop close to where you stay, Mr mongoose. Its where I first had that coffee that comes from beans that squirrel type animals have eaten then its harvested from their poo. The digestive process does something to the beans. I was initially a little timid, but being an adventurous sole gave it a go. Beans ground and coffee prepared in the shop. Needless to say it was delicious - dark, smooth, deep intense flavours - I could go on. A year later I visited a coffee plantation in Cambodia. That was a fascinating education about the whole process down to final tasting. They claimed to be the leader in the squirrel stuff, but so did Vietnam. Sadly we can't bring this kind of plant stuff into Australia, or a 5kg bag would have been in my luggage. Makes you thing twice about a mug of Starbucks filth.

Mike said...

PS Mr mongoose: if you travel to Vietnam you should go via Bangkok - allowing a few days stay. Assuming this is not how you normally travel. Bangkok blows all the senses. It makes London feel like a small village. I like to stay overlooking the Chao Phraya river - watching the apparently random movements of the myriad of river boats plying their trade is mesmerising.

We usually stay here (a step back into the good old days).

https://www.shangri-la.com/en/bangkok/shangrila/rooms-suites/rooms/krungthep-wing/about-the-krungthep-wing/

A session at Lavana Sukhumvit 12 is a must (go for the 2 hour oil massage with one hour free facial). You will feel regenerated.

https://www.lavanabangkok.com/

The more you experience and learn about SE Asia the more it grows on you. I could easily live there.