What Next ?

It takes a perverse sense of timing to remove the Charlie Sheen shit show from the headlines. The cataclysmic events unfolding in Japan have done that sorry to say in the most horrendous way imaginable.

This on going story is hard to fathom and we can only hope no more misery befalls this country. Haiti was bad enough but now we are faced with big questions that need big answers. While Mother Nature voices it’s displeasure with us, we humans are merely renters on this earth and the landlord evidently is very pissed off. Misbehaving renters have a blind spot for many things never more so when it comes to energy.

Energy is everything.

Interestingly for now the oil price has dropped a shade because a part of Japan has been obliterated and isn’t consuming the vast amounts of oil it imports. Yet the another source of energy, nuclear (secrecy in abundant supply) is threatening at time of writing to remind senior citizens of the horrors of World War Two. Oh did I mention the winter weather.

Moving on to more human suffering we find Libya in a brutal struggle to keep Gaddafi from carnage and reeking revenge on its people. The years of appeasement from the West to Arab autocrats is now coming home to roost. America and Europe dithering into a cohesive action demonstrates the fragile nature of united diplomacy.

While I understand the reluctance to be drawn into other Arab / Muslim conflict the irony of such a situation can’t be ignored. The invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan wasn’t welcome in the eyes of its people (or warranted for that matter) and yet here we are listening to the Libyan people pleading for intervention resulting in a perfectly performed Ass back to front, tits up logic.

A No-fly zone would halt (for some time at least) the continuing massacre and off shore bombing of strategic positions would disenable Gaddafi into a compromised state. An armed intervention would not be wise, but if we are telling the Saudi’s to send arms to the rebels (rebels = goods guys or bad guys, have no clue these days) while they shoot protesters in Bahrain, what kind of message are we sending?

The autocrats of Yemen and Bahrain are emboldened by Gaddafi’s stance by this wishy washy policy. The fact that Gaddafi has vocally said he would reward China, Russia and Germany with oil contracts speak volumes to where we are. Pay back for colonial divide and conquer comes by way of Got Gas?

Back to energy; Oil, this plays a central role to the growing mess we find ourselves in and the giant gas station called the Middle East renders the world at its mercy. We all know too well Saudi Arabia cannot fall into the hands of Shiites so the Holy Grail of oil must be preserved.

The Arab Berlin Wall is falling and the Sixth fleet knows its coordinates. Just like the earth’s axis has been knocked off kilter from Japan’s earthquake so has the world’s leadership.

Will The Real Nut Job Please Stand Up...

Just who is the craziest; Corporal Gaddafi or Barmy Sheen?

Bunkered down in their respective camps, Sheen surrounded by porn stars, crack vials and Lindsey Lohan while Gaddafi is surrounded by Camels and infidels.

Rants from both of these specimens make it awfully hard to determine a winner.

Here’s a colorful selection from both.

Gaddafi: The Libyan people love me.

Sheen: You can’t process me with a normal brain.

Gaddafi: I am like the Queen of England

Sheen: I have defeated this earthworm with my words – imagine what I would have done with my fire-breathing fists.

Gaddafi: Life without dignity is worthless.

Sheen: Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.

Gaddafi: I am much bigger than any rank, for those who are talking about rank, I am a fighter.

Sheen: These resentments, they are the rocket fuel that lives in the tip of my sabre.

Gaddafi: I woke up at 4am, before dawn. You should be asleep. You’re all tired after a sleepless night.

Sheen: I'm extremely old-fashioned, I'm a nobleman, and I’m chivalrous.

Gaddafi: al-Qaida was behind the uprising, and young people involved in it had been given drugs, which were now beginning to wear off.

Sheen: I am a rock star from Mars.

You decide…

Another one bites the dust...

Cor Blimey peeps its hard to keep up with events unfolding in North Africa and the Middle East. Dictators and autocrats are being toppled on average one a week, if only Saddam could have gone the same way we could of save an awful of blood and treasure. Who will go next; Iran, Syria, Saudi Arabia, Arizona?

In the case of Libya and Daffy Gaddafi we are witnessing a monster with an chronic face lift ending his last days in the most gruesome manner. Using tanks and warplanes to suppress your fellow country folk is hardly the recipe for good relations. Egypt’s Mubarak sent in his renta thugs on camels and sticks with no success at all. That should have been an indication how passionate and determined the protesters were.

But Gaddafi has been mentally unstable for all of his 41 years in power and evidence of this continual madness is sadly playing out with his last bullet. Perhaps the only person standing in Libya once the dust settles will be Lockerbie bomber Al Megrahi who’s near death cancer shows no signs of well… ending his life !He managed with skillful bedside manner to out fox a dimwitted Scottish Parliament, and ministerial clowns in Westminster into releasing him back to a Tripoli terrain with rock star applause.

And we can’t leave out Tony Blair’s’ cheesy grin and clasped handshake cementing an arms deal that is now being used in all probability on the Libyan people as we tweet.

And really… do we have to listen the sanctimonious bollocks from the Russian leadership Medvedev and his bum chum Vlad Putin harp on about decades of unrest, honestly brothers haven’t you got your own dictatorship to run?

Democracy is messy and it is far too early to tell what will happen and what form democracy will take place, if at all. Conventional wisdom points to Turkey as a favorable model of governance that the West can live by.But it's ah...complicated.

In the interim may I propose, on loan however (Jon Stewart needs them for constant comedy material) we fill the vacuum of rudderless countries with our very own wackados. I think Sarah Palin would look smashing posing beside a pyramid. It would sharpen up her geography skills just in time for that big election in 2012. The landmass of Libya would just about fit the swollen carcass of Rush Limbaugh and his fondness for insanity is in keeping with his predecessor corporal Gaddafi and lastly for now, Glen Beck can weep all over Tunisia and guides us through Muslim modernity.

It is fair to say that Gaddafi will not be getting an invitation to William and Kate’s wedding.

A Stand Up performance at the Golden Robes

It’s the Golden Robes and back for a repeat performance as MC was giant gabber jaws Ricky Gervais. Threatening before hand to misbehave and not be a slave to a script or auto cue he accomplished this with spirited honesty.

But first one has to endure the red carpet, which really amounts to silliness on steroids and for some the main event, seeing it’s about selling fabric as it is about selling bums in seats.

Donning on my fashion hat as I am qualified to do, I feel it necessary to point out fashion faux pars, and lets face it ,the experts make a habit of getting it wrong on numerous occasions so What The Frock !

So who found themselves on the Good Bad and OMG list?

Good: January Jones sizzling in red sophistication, Grace Kelly revisited.Halle Berry’s sleek stealth black dress delicate but strong and Natalie Portman looking rosy and perfect and preggers.

Bad: Julianne Moore’s dress looked like an air bag had deflated on it.Sandra Bullock supported disobedient gothic bangs and a shapeless pink gown held together with staples. Angelina Jolie pouted purr-fectly in her Muppet green sofa upholstery long green sleeves. While Jennifer Love Hewitt appeared in a powder blue clam shell dress that could hide a few entrees - food for thought indeed !

OMG! Heidi Klum appeared as a Battenberg cake gone spastic while Kyra Sedgwick came in prison Gitmo apparel. Tilda Swinton’s Houdini straight jacket must have kept her busy all night and Helena Bonham Carter? Hmmm… aren’t you taking Alice in Wonderland a bit too far?

Traditionally the Gobles are a squashed drunken affair, housed in a tight ballroom where some of the most insecure of this world fall and fawn over each other captured by network TV hoping for a more relaxed affair - unlike the Oscars.

For us civilians it is a wide angled lens into the world of seismic self gratification and the occasion good slice of film. Asking for Ricky Gervais to MC is like asking the crazy Aunt loaded on sherry to spill family secrets. In his case its Leffe beer.As he warned, some of Hollywood’s self righteousness was about to be ripped a new rectum. He is the Wiki leaks of Hollywood and in truth it wasn’t all that harmful, just a refreshing spin on a shallow spectacle. Taking on Scientology in Hollywood is fair game in a culture that allegedly believes in liberal views. The gay outing of Tom Cruise is not new, but recalibrated in a way that reinforces the silly sham put forward by agents and the media.

Robert Downey Jr is a smack head, but he’s done rather well in spite of it so laugh of it off jerk! And go swap cocaine vials with Charlie Sheen.

Yes Tim Allen has nothing on Tom Hanks at least Mr. Allen is employed. And by the way just because “The Tourist” has two bombshells it doesn’t necessary mean instant classic, and perhaps bribery was its only friend as Gervais remarked.

Reports have suggested that the disappearance for nearly an hour was due to a Network bollocking. I rather think he nipped out to a Mexican truck stop for some welcome relief.

Whether Ricky Gervais gets asked back next year probably relies on what the ratings were, not that he cares much, remember, there were only two episodes of the Office and Extras, why over saturate?

If anyone is wondering why the tardiness with this report I was finishing a beer with Ricky…It takes more than an hour.

Cheers… Up your Bum!

Sympathy for the Disheveled

Keith Richards is a medical marvel and his immune system should for the benefit of mankind be on display at the British Museum as testament to a life thoroughly endured. From there a world wide tour must commence starting at the Smithsonian in Washington DC and cross the finish line in Paris at the Academie Des Sciences. Tickets for viewing will be restricted to two per person, smoking is permitted on the premises, however flash photography is prohibited and will be rigorously enforced (no amount of fancy photography can improve the looks of such a specimen)

After reading ‘Life’ the autobiography of broken teeth Keef Richards you fall between a feeling of repulsion and sheer wonder for such a person. This page turner of a book is packed with surprises, shattered myths and recipes for Bangers and Mash. While heavily serialized in The London Sunday Times there are gems of stories on every page. The belief that under such junkie turmoil one could actually remember such accounts of behavior would seem Herculean.
But there’s only one Keith Richards and possibly over the multitude of drug intake there was one that retained memory.

I was intrigued to find that Charlie Watts had a sharp left hook when Jagger pissed him off to great lengths and almost knocked him out of a hotel window in Amsterdam. In fact, feeling rather pleased with the outcome Charlie was itching for a repeat performance some days later. It was only when Richards pleaded with him that he reversed his decision.

The myths that follow such legends sometimes have to be finally dealt head on; such was the case with Marianne and a famous confectionary bar. This was pre Rupert Murdoch days where lies and fiction share the same bed. It was the local constabulary that fancifully constructed the idea that Britain’s favorite chocolate bar had been inserted somewhere other than an oral cavity. Indeed Miss Faithful was naked with only a rug for fabric shelter and there was a Mars Bar on the table nearby, but truth dictates it remained idle and still in its wrapper.

The fondness for drugs and the distress it caused Richards and for all those around at times is very hard to fathom. The extraordinary amount of planning one had to do to have junk at the next show in order to function was astonishing. Girlfriend swapping was almost as interchangeable as needles and yet Richards did not collect women the way Bill Wyman or Jagger did, counting and documenting as if it were a homework assignment. When Jagger received a Knighthood it was a fitting portrayal to who Jagger was; a social butterfly and in contrast, Richards would take no part in a world that some decades earlier wanted lock them up and throw away the key.

This is a most satisfactory read, however if you think that Mr. Richards has a enough money then gallop to the nearest public library where a Mandrax induced librarian will be happy to furnish you with a copy. Err… that’s if county council cutbacks haven’t already kicked in.

Pocket Size Perfection

Now that Michael Jackson has left the planet will the heir to his Pop-dom please rise. Prince!!
While a Prince is a King in waiting many would argue that Prince formerly known as Rogers Nelson has in the last three decades been the rightful King of Pop and Funk and R & B and Hip Hop and Rock the list goes on.

Last night I had the good fortune of seeing this fifty two year old midget from Minnesota perform. If that sounds mean then that’s because I am racked with envy…so there.
Coming from Minnesota where snow is a minor inconvenience the thought of New York’s recent blizzard cancelling this sold out show was never an issue.
Madison Square Garden is just a snowballs throw from the Tree house and no amount of inclement weather was going dampen my spirits.

Janelle Monae opened the show with a fine set of songs and visual display that in today’s R&B world is slightly refreshing. During the change over the man himself dressed in white appeared in the crowd with his I Phone and proceeded to greet everyone he could captured on video. This was a welcome move especially for the people in the high altitude seats.

The stage was designed in his familiar logo which I have no idea what it means but as a performance space it proves effective. All round vision again is a welcome touch that serves the audience well.

Dressed in purple seated at the grand piano we began the Prince experience. A non stop juke box of hits rained down from the PA backed by a hammer jack band.
It is a spectacle to watch him shred a guitar in stilettos and produce a vocal range with such force and emotion. At one point a gold plated guitar was used to show off another round of blistering solos. Rumor has it that Prince was in need of a hip replacement, well for us mere mortals perhaps with all those splits and what not, but no sign that this rumor is justified.

There were costume changes from purple to black to red, even elevated sneakers were employed after all those heels, give the man a break. Each costume made him look younger, it just makes you sick!

As a closing thank you he allowed people from the audience to get up on stage and dance and sing while purple confetti rained down. One such person was Cyndi Lauper who despite pop tackiness has a fantastic voice.

It was a pocket sized perfection of a performance. There is no fault line, no part in the two hour show where you could point to old age creeping in, effecting dance, voice or guitar playing. Quite simply, he was disgustingly brilliant!

A Very British Cock Up

A very British cock up happened yesterday in London. The Government agreed to raise the tuition fees for students attending University (I say attend because studying for some is a trifle far fetched) this vote broke an election promise no surprises there. Cock up number one.

Protesters gathered and soon things turned ugly, as always in protests you get the thug element that are out for a jolly scrap with the local constabulary and evidence of this was clearly seen on telly. While the anger is justified they got the wrong location, their fury should have been directed at the City, the Bank of England and the Investment and Securities Companies that put country and beyond into this situation. Bonus time is around the corner so save your placards and Halloween masks and Google where those institutions are. Cock up number two.

While parts of London were burning ( I believe the Clash wrote something along those lines) the Royal protection unit saw fit to drive head on into a foaming mob in the most ostentatious car available, the Phantom VI model by Rolls Royce. Passengers on this occasion were the future King of England Charles and his most unfortunate wife Camilla the Thriller duchess of somewhere. With shouts from some “Off with their heads” missiles and paint came next, smashing a window and wiping away all smiles from the peeved royals. Cock up number three.

Caught up in the riotous spirit was a young man called Charles Gilmour (England is littered with Charlie’s it would appear) who was caught on film climbing up the Cenotaph with determined zeal. The Cenotaph is a cherished memorial to all those who died in the wars fought by Britons. One doesn’t mess with that; it would be like pissing on the Alamo or burning the Stars and Stripes. He also happens to be the son David Gilmour, singer / guitarist of the Pink Floyd who sang “We don’t need no education”.

David Gilmour is one the richest men in England and the privileged up bringing young Charlie has with his Cambridge education, expensive suits jars nicely with this act of disrespect. No doubt daddy Dave will punish him by curtailing his beer allowance and sending him to his dorm to listen to Roger Waters’s solo albums. Cock up number four.

Cheers!