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“The realization of dream elements in the course of waking up is the canon of dialectics. It is paradigmatic for the thinker and binding for the historian." WALTER BENJAMIN The Arcades Project

Ferry, Madonna. Seriously.
Perhaps the problem is, they both, at heart, have an impulse towards the avant garde; and yet both have spent a good deal of their glossy careers denying this avant garde itch, as one denies a parentage or lineage found embarrassing for some abidingly personal reason. (If you wanted to be risibly charitable, you could make a case for Ferry’s endless covers as Duchampian ‘readymades’. Actually, no you couldn’t.)

Ferry, especially, for a long time now, has the look of a haunted man. Haunted by the spectre of what he should have been, could have done, but. . .well, as maestro KRUSTY once put it: “I’m a lazy, lazy man. . .”

Pity we don’t still believe in sin. (Or maybe we really still do. Thus: celebrities sticking their faces in bowls of rats.)

And with Ferry, in this business we call show one naturally hears all sorts of vile rumours, too. . .but I couldn’t possibly.

(In the late Eighties, I came THIS-close to being his official biographer, you know.)

And you can still detect mouse-peeps of babyboom-era pretension with Madonna.

Like, what a good idea it was to get her husband – natural metier: It’s A Right Royal Cockney Barrel of Monkeys! – to try and do a remake of Lina Wertmuller’s Swept Away … by an Unusual Destiny in the Blue Sea of August / Travolti da un Insolito Destino nell’Azzurro Made d’Agosto [1975] - which even pretentious people like me blanche at as mais-PLUS pretentious.

(Actually, I’m sure I’ve had a lovely Italian sausage from Waitrose called Insolito Destino. . .)


Last night on class war telly. . .
C4 do a notable, laudible drama-doc about our working class forebears and “what they died for” – dreamed and strived and demanded and died for: the right to vote.
And follow it, thankyou C4, with a programme where you can vote .. for your 100 Favourite Movie Stars.

I somehow don’t think our forebears died for 6 hrs 45 mins of their free-citizenry holidays to be given over to obscenely rich movie stars - whose salary per crappy deeply contemptuous pic could redeem a third world debt - being installed as our ultimate measure of modern aspiration.

C4, did you notice, has gone along with the PREVAILING wind and sold out the auteurs & the marginals & the maestros for the FACES. Thought for imago. Divergence for gloss. There is, don’t you see, a dull new homogeneity – as per their adverts for their fiftieth “new” movie channel, which has the same films as all the other “new” channels i.e., the safe new pro- or proto- Yankee homogeneity of usual suspects coen brothers julia roberts Right Royal Cockney Barrel of Monkeys de nada yadda blah blah blah …

And while we’re on this subject, here’s my IS IT JUST ME, OR for today:

Ewan [Christ, I cant even remember his name! has it been THAT long since Trainspotting!?] … Ewan McGregor. Talk about yer one hit ponies! So –


Ewan McGregor. Well, he’s crap, isn’t he? Has the ‘range’ of a Scottish molehill!

posted by Ian 5/05/2003 12:46:00 PM

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