Tabloids Category
The news as told by the UK’s tabloid press – The Sun, Daily Express, Daily Mail, Daily Mirror, Daily Star and News of the World.
Action Men
TIRED of the War On Terror?
If you are, It is understandable. This war, as with all wars, was supposed to be over Christmas. But that has been and gone. And the boys and girls are still fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Or are they?
Look again at that sentry on duty at the Grenadier Guards at the Shaibah Logistics base in Iraq. This is the single biggest garrison in southern Iraq.
See the watchman’s steely gaze. Admire his firm jaw and stoicism. See how remarkably still he stands. Vigilance is his byword. He never flinches. He never blinks. He never complains. His life is a pregnant pause between shallow breaths.
You want to shake his hand. But if you did it might come off in your grip. As the Sun reports, this guard is a mannequin, a dummy, a stooge.
Says a spokesman for the Ministry of Defence: “Deception techniques have played a major role in military operations for thousands of years.”
All warfare is based on deception. Sun Tzu said that in The Art of War. Niccolo Machiavelli adds: “Though fraud in other activities may be detestable, in the management of war it is laudable and glorious, and he who overcomes the enemy by fraud is as much to be praised as he who does by force.”
The phrase to note is “force multiplier”. Examples include Gideon and the Midianites, and the Greeks and that Trojan Horse. Former Secretary of State Colin Powell said: “Perpetual optimism is a force multiplier.”
Of course, the trick is to keep a grip on what is real and what is not. When does deception become a lie? Is Iraq now 45-minutes away? Taking into account the tilt of the Earth and the angle of the Miami sun, was it ever so close?
So look again at the plastic British reservists on duty as their mates rest. The Sun says the MoD must be “DUMMIES” to allow such frippery.
But no not worry. The Sun also hears the MoD say that when some watchtowers are unmanned, their “arcs of vision were covered by real sentries being extra vigilant in neighbouring towers”.
Extra vigilant. Surely vigilant needs no qualifier. You are either vigilant or you are not vigilant. Which is it?
In any case, it all might be an untruth. That’s the thing with deception, you don’t know what to believe. Until you see the whites of their eyes…
Skull & Bones
KEIRA Knightley is in the sea. More immediately, Ms Knightley is in a bikini of red and white horizontal stripes.
The Star has no fewer than five pictures of Keira in her ensemble as she holidays in California. And the conclusion is that she is “so thin”.
Keira hardly fills her “itsy-bitsy bikini” notes the Star, inviting its readers to study the actress from the front, sides and rear.
An onlooker tells the paper that it would “take a pirate with some exceptional map-reading skills to find her hidden treasure chest”. Yo-ho-ho. Knightly, of course, features in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. These are the jokes.
Keira is “so scrawny her bones are sticking out of her body”, says the Sun. She is “KEIRA UNSIGHTLY”, a walking Jolly Roger flag, a skull stuck atop a pile of bones. Cross her legs and arms and ‘X’ marks the spot where the treasure is hidden.
Over in the Mail, readers are introduced to the man by Keira’s side. He’s Rupert Friend. And he risks a punctured lung or worse as Keira snuggles in, her elbows jutting out at dangerous angles.
Rupert is “the boyfriend who’s seeing a lot less of Keira”. The actress stands accused of suffering from and promoting anorexia. The Mail hears from a mother of a girl who died from the illness.
Says Rosalind Ponomarenko-Jones: If you can see someone’s ribs, they have a problem.”
But looking at Keira we see no ribs. We see shoulders and elbows and knees. Ribs are in short supply. Might it be that Keira is not too thin?
In “Keira Slightly”, the Mirror deliberates on the actress’s weight. It appraises her “slender figure”. If Keira is insecure about her body, the Mirror will assess her and then offer its verdict in the full glares of its surgery.
So is Keira “GAUNT” or “GORGEOUS”?
“She’s gorgeous,” says nutritionist Anita Ellis (weight unspecified). Expert No.1 draws out attention to Keira’s “great muscle tone”, her “decent thighs” and shapely legs.
The good news is that “you can still see body fat on her”.
But Expert No.2 says otherwise. Another nutritionist, this one’s called Juliette Kellow (looks chubby), says Keira is “incredibly thin and not a good role model for young women.”
This expert days Keira has got no boobs (something the untrained eye might have missed). Readers learn that bigger women are “sassy and sexy”. They are fat and jolly. Bigger people have ruddy faces and dimpled cheeks.
Bigger people produce weight loss DVDs. In the movies, they play the thin film star’s best friend who can’t get a date. And they never wear bikinis with horizontal stripes…
Posted: 9th, January 2007 | In: Tabloids | Comments (2)
Watered Down Booze
THREE cheers and bottoms up for consumer power.
It is encouraging to know that all those drunken nights out and cans of beer in front of the telly have not been for nought. Your dedication to getting pie-eyed and dead-brained has resulted in a price war on booze.
It is our duty to inform the greater world that lager is now as cheap as water.
In “EAU PRICE LAGER”, the Mirror sees lager on sale in two supermarket chains for 54p a pint.
Before we move on to the alcohol, let us consider this water. Can it be that water is now so pricey? Little wonder there is a need hosepipe bans when by our calculations it can cost £100 or more to water your lawn. Better to pave over the grass and turn your patio into a beer garden – both cheaper and more environmentally friendly.
But reading on we learn the fuller picture. It’s into just any water that is now as cheap as beer, but bottled water. As the Mirror notes, a pint of Fosters lager, when bought in a pallet of 24 cans, is only 5pence dearer than a pint of S. Pellegrino water.
The paper hears the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) brand supermarkets “irresponsible and reckless”. Says Camra’s chief executive Mike Benner: “Cheap drink promotions like this are a major cause of binge drinking.”
John Rogan, MP, chairman of the All Party Parliamentary Beer Group, tells the Mail: “Supermarkets are abusing their power at some considerable social and economist cost.
Supermarkets deny such claims. A spokesman for Sainsbury’s tells the Star: “We sell beer, wines and spirits at prices that are competitive.”
That’s right. It’s not just bear that’s cheap. It’s the wine and spirits, too.
It’s all part of what the supermarkets call a commitment to sensible drinking.
Although how sensible is it to spend 54p on a bottle of water when you can buy a pint of beer or drink the watery stuff that comes out of the tap..?
Slice Of An Angel
Charlotte Church lines up for a big Amy Winehouse encore…
AS Amy Winehouse sets new standards in live music with her on-stage vomit, we travel to France.
There, the Sun looks on as Charlotte Church gets in training to overreach Amy’s mark by necking ten sambucas and six vodka redbulls.
Charlotte is holidaying in Chamonix-Mt-Blanc. On her night out she is wearing a pair of strappy gold heels. But they are no good. “It’s fr***ing icy out there. I can’t wear these shoes. Besides, aren’t I meant to be an angel? I’ll float around like an angel in my tights,” says she.
Charlotte duly removes her shoes and walks about the snow in her tights.
Amid the booze, Charlotte happens upon a Pepperoni Delight pizza. “The pizza’s lush,” shouts Charlotte to her orangey-skinned lover Gavin Henson, the Welsh rugby player. She wants Gavin to try it. “Gavin, eat the f******* pizza or I’ll rub it all over your face. Eat it or f*** off. I mean that.”
Gavin is no performer. If Charlotte is to chuck up over the greater public, he will not be a party to it. Charlotte lunges at him. She is brandishing a slice of pizza. He storms off. She screams obscenities at him.
Charlotte is then off for an impromptu performance at Le Privelege bar. She grabs the microphone and begins to belt out a rendition of Sting’s Fields of Gold. Will she now do a Winehouse?
Not yet. Charlotte follows her opening number with Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody and Simon & Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Water.
Outside, Gavin collapses into a flower basket. He is restrained from “lunging” at a group of lads laughing at him.
And Charlotte prepares for her big sambuca and pepperoni fuelled finale.
Eat your heart out, Amy Winehouse…
Amy Wino-House
Amy Winehouse’s sick sideshow…
EVERY new musical age pushes the boundaries a little further.
And for punk rockers gobbing at their fans, we introduce the popstar vomit.
The Mirror raises an umbrella and looks on as Amy Winehouse takes to the stage at London’ G.A.Y club.
Winehouse is due to sing some of her songs. And having been out with Kelly Osbourne for some pre-match liveners, Amy is in top form.
This will be the night Amy makes her mark on stage. And she does. After stumbling through her opening number, Amy throws up.
The Winehouse signature move is a work in progress and rather than give full throat to her audience, Amy chucks up at the side of the stage.
What is this but rock ‘n’ roll at its most rebellious. And before Pete Doherty can top the lot by pooing his pants for an encore, Amy’s promoter appears.
He is sorry. Amy cannot go on. (Indeed, how do you follow that but with a mop and bucket?) Amy has peaked. The show is at an end. The promoter is sorry that Amy’s finale should come so early in her set, but such is life. And, in any case, it was not her fault. If the fans want to blame anyone, they should blame the rogue kebab or dodgy spring roll that did for her.
The official story is that Amy succumbed to food poisoning and not to the effects of a night’s boozing, as the Mirror claims.
A source tells the paper: “Everyone knew something was up as soon as she arrived smelling of booze and quite unsteady on her feet.”
And then she was sick. And such is the way of high fashion, that G-A-Y promoter Jeremy Joseph says that when Jason Donovan performs at the weekend, he will have two buckets on stage.
A new target to aim for…
Liver & Let Live
PSSST! Wanna buy a liver?
Livers are rich in vitamin A. Although too much vitamin A (more than 1.5mg of vitamin A per day from food or supplements – source: Food Standards agency), might increase the risk of bone fracture. Women who are pregnant or trying for a baby also need to avoid vitamin A.
But not to worry. We can also lay our hands on a nice bit of kidney and some cornea.
And the good news is that no animals are harmed in the process. All our meat is from a sustainable human source, namely Umer Maqbool.
In the front-page news “BODY PARTS.COM”, the Sun looks at Britishers who sell their body on the web.
This is not the kind of body selling that involves women called Dannii who will dress up for you, but meat that can be trussed up and brought out in polite company.
The meat is called Umer, and the Sun meets the walking carvery at an East London hotel. The Sun has seen Umer’s advert posted on a website in California.
But the sale of human body parts is illegal. Umer has to be careful. Friends who know him may grow suspicious as he appears day by day with another part of his anatomy missing. And advertising on the web is rife with danger. For these reasons and more Umer goes under a pseudonym, a nom-de-web – he calls himself Umer1. He claims to have been born in Pakistan and live in Manchester.
“Kidney for sale,” says Umer1’s advert. “Male O -, good health. Buyer pays all travel, transplant and medical costs plus the cost to buy my kidney. Contract will be written in English. Total cost £100,000 plus medical expenses and travel.”
The Sun’s man with an appetite contacts Umer1. And over a meal of chicken and chips, Umer1 agrees to sell a kidney (£50,000), part of his liver (£20,000) and his cornea (£20,000). The operation will be performed by a doctor in Lahore.
And it can work. With decent medal care, a lighter Umer may well go on to live a normal life, says the Sun. He might yet enjoy the fruits of his labour, specifically a house in Pakistan and a shop.
But the Sun is unimpressed. The paper’s editorial calls this an “evil trade”. Rather than blaming greed, exploitation and a lack of donor organs, it says the internet “has the potential for evil”. Sites offering human body parts for sale should be closed down.
And what of the counter argument that ending the trade in human body parts stifles development in the third world, and Manchester? That for every organ donor there is likely to be a recipient who stands a chance of living a better life. And that shortening the lives of human beings – a species now routinely talked about as being bad for the planet that causes penguins to drown and ice to melt – might be no bad thing. (Back in 2003, Michael Meacher, the former Labour Environment Minister, described humanity as a “virus” on the Earth.)
But we are not told the name of the website on which Umer and his ilk advertise. We are not told who operates the site. And the only proof we have of any trade is Umer or Umer1 talking to a reporter.
It is clear the Sun’s investigation has far to go. And in the meantime, you can look out for body parts for sale in your newsagent’s window, local newspaper or website.
And busy yourself with today’s recipe for chopped liver with an Asian fusion…
GMTV Modified
“CAMERON Diaz has apparently split from Justin Timberlake.”
So writes “GMTV’S Fiona Phillips”. Fiona is not sure about the state of the Diaz-Timberlake relationship – doubtless she is still researching it – but thinks that if the affair is at an end it is no bad thing. “Jude Law is still free, Cam,” says Fiona. “Give him a call. I would be so excited.”
Just in case Cameron Diaz does not read Fiona’s column in the Mirror, we have republished her invitation on Anorak.
And while Cam, as Fiona cells her, shags Jude Law to make Fiona happy, Fiona takes a look at some other men.
Tsk! Men! Can’t live with ‘em, can’t find anything to write about without ‘em.
Fiona has been taking a trip down the A1. She has been to Scotland for Hogmanay. And hungry for some sustenance, Fiona and “we” passed a sign for Little Chef. Fiona hates the “horribly smug little chef logo”.
So Fiona forwent the chance to restorative plate of bacon, eggs and a fried slice in favour of a bottle of water, coffee and smoothies. She nearly “choked” on being charged £32.40 for that lot.
But the Costa Coffee section at the service station is the “cleanest and most inviting”.
Still, too many sandwiches can be a bad thing and Fiona is feeling “fat and wasted”. But not useless. She is not a man. As Fiona says: “WHAT IS THE POINT OF MEN AT CHRISTMAS?”
Well, she could give one a good kicking and burn some calories and feel reinvigorated – we suggest she pick on a fat chef.
Or she could join a gym. Or not. Fiona had a gym membership for seven years but used it “for a total of no more than two”.
Two years in the gym, eh. Can any man say the same?
Or are they too busy climbing down chimneys, chasing Cameron Diaz and being fat little chefs..?
The Doomsday Test
EVERY day of every week the Mail thinks up imaginative ways to remind you that life is cruel and you are going to experience pain and die.
And if it can’t think any up, it looks at the latest scientific research.
Here is a selection of things that will kill you and yours from last week’s paper of doom…
MONDAY
“We can’t curb the binge drinkers”
TUESDAY
“EU stealing the crown of the great British pint” – Pictures of crowns on pint glasses to be replaced by a CE mark, “which, in French stands for ‘European Conformity’”
“Living dangerously, the ten unhealthiest places in Britain” – Merthyr Tydfil, Wales, RIP
“Did we REALLY drink that much? These women kept a diary of their festive alcohol intake. The results stunned them – and so did the brutal truth about the damage they’ve done to their bodies” – Get pickled and live forever
“My back pain was so bad I could hardly walk…but the surgeon cured it in 20 minutes” – Me And My Operation
“Are you brave enough for the doomsday test? A new gene test can predict your risk of getting cancer, heart disease and Alzheimer’s. But do you really want to know?” – Or have you got all three already?
“Allergy risk for mothers on the Pill.” A study in Finland says women who take pill more likely to have children with nasal allergies – But not necessarily have children
“Dave Dee was lucky his prostate cancer was found early. But then his treatment went horribly wrong” – The Dozy, Beaky, Mitch, and Titchy NHS
WEDNESDAY
“With most of Britain still on holiday, one mother’s impassioned plea – PLEASE END THIS TORTURE” – Jill Parkin spends the holiday season in Abu Graib, in the deepest Home Counties
“Cancer treatment link to premature birth” – Try not to worry
“I WISH I’D NEER MET MUM & DAD. They longed to know their birth parents, but when these adopted daughters found them, the reality was bitterness, recrimination – and shattering disappointment” – Heart-warming stuff
THURSDAY
“SOLD DOWN THE RIVER. For 500 years The Watermen have been masters of Britain’s greatest river, taking everything from corpses to the Crown Jewels up and down the Thames. Now their livelihoods are under threat and guess who’s to blame?” – Er… Is it the Rogarians? Health & Safety? Noel Edmonds? No, it’s the EU, stupid…
“As women’s patience finally snaps after two weeks with their bone-idle men…Why we divorce lawyers are having a VERY happy New Year” – Hardworking Vanessa Lloyd Platt celebrates 2007, and half of 2008
FRIDAY
“A NEW PLAGUE. Recycling and fortnightly rubbish collections are bringing a huge rise in rat numbers, warn experts” – Organic rats!
“Mother’s hospital agony as birth bed collapses” – “Linda Makin, 35, would have crushed her newborn daughter Jasmine had a quick-thinking midwife not pulled her out of harms way” – She got a bed? In the NHS! Luck so-and-so!
“I’m not religious… but is Mr Blair now so arrogant he believes his morality takes precedence over God’s?” – Tom Utley is not religious
Kate Moss & Pete Doherty’s Wedding; Heather Mills Kicks Out; Kate Middleton Is Being Watched..
Kate Moss & Pete Doherty’s wedding; Heather Mills kicks out; Kate Middleton is being watched..
KATE Moss and Pete Doherty exchanged “High dos”.
With 2007 in its infancy, the Sun drew its readers’ attention to an early contender for celebrity wedding of the year.
The paper saw flowers draped over Kate and Pete’s shoulders. Their hands were “cupped” in prayer. It was 1.30pm local time at the exclusive Amanpuri resort.
But pictures were far from clear. Like those snap of Kate chopping lines of cocaine/sherbet/anthrax in a London recording studio, the Mirror could only produce a grainy picture of the event. (How ironic that a woman used to being snapped by the world’s foremost snappers should have her personal life recorded on camera phones.)
The picture showed Kate and Pete, a bridesmaid and a glass of champagne. The Sun noted that Kate and Pete “pledged lifetime allegiance to each other”. The event was watched by friends and family. The Sun said the audience “clapped” and “cheered”.
And then a spokesman stepped forward to say that there had been no wedding. It was just Kate and Pete having fun. It was Thai shtick.
But still the Star was unconvinced. It had been distracted by a new twist in this betrothal. As the Star announced: “KATE ‘N’ PETE’S 3-IN-BED ROMP WITH TOM CAT.”
The sickos! Kill yourself with drugs and fags by all means, Pete and Kate, but romping with a kitty cat is plain wrong. We love our animals in the UK and we know where to draw the line.
It was almost too much to read on. But through webbed fingers we peeked at the story and noted: “Outrageous Kate Moss and her new ‘husband’ Pete Doherty consummated their Thai wedding night with a three-in-a-bed romp – with a tom cat.”
After the Star’s previous day’s news that the wedding was “bizarre”, were we supposed to believe that this betrothal was sealed not by a kiss but by a bestial threesome?
And this was not all. As the Star said, the newlyweds’ bed was festooned with rice, coins, sesame seeds and the aforesaid cat. Not the detritus of Pete’s drug taking but items assembled in accordance with Buddhist marriage rites. Or at least that is what the informed Star said.
And the equally knowing Mirror told us that Pete and Kate were shut in their Thai hotel room “only accepting deliveries of booze”. And Go Cat. Or Frisky with chunks.
It said so much that the year’s big showbiz story should be about a non-event – so much of the celebrity world involves denials, non-denials and non non-denials.
We were in need of some action. We wanted the truth. And on Thursday, it came from an unlikely source.
It was Heather ‘Dark Satanic’ Mills (the darts is on the telly and you’ll have to excuse the nicknames). Heather’s spokesman admitted his client had lashed out at a woman who had, allegedly, tried to photograph her in a London coffee shop.
As this spokesperson told us: “Heather suspected she was a journalist. She even admitted she was trying to make some money out of her. Heather did kick her up the backside – all the staff and customers started clapping.”
This is the celebrity PR’s latest tactic. The Times’s Chris Ayres has called this the “dramatic-reconstruction-admission”. It uses “Hollywood plotting techniques to combine a low-level acceptance of guilt with a backstory and a motive — thus making the acceptance of guilt look unnecessary, and therefore needlessly gracious.”
Heather was minding her own business. A woman tried to invade her privacy. She kicked out. Everyone cheered. Who cared the other party limped off with a bruised backside. She got off lightly.
It dangerous out there is you’re famous. Protection is needed. And on Friday the Mail saw six police officers helping Kate Middleton get to work.
Kate is Prince William’s paramour. She’s a nice enough gel, who when she is not holidaying and appreciating fine art is buying hairclips and such like for a large high street fashion chain run by pals of her mum and dad’s.
We looked. And we looked again. And we wondered if Kate was less being protected than watched. Were the police, the Establishment’s long, leather gloved arm, surveying the Prince’s lover? Were they keen to avoid a repeat of past errors?
There are lessons to be learned from Royal marriages past. Diana is dead, or living in the attic at Harvey Nichols. And Sarah Ferguson – who appeared to tell us how much she loved the Queen – is persona non grata at Windsor family get together.
And Kate Middleton is being watched…
Paul Sorene
Britney Spears’ Next Big Hit
HAPPY New Year, Britney Spears.
Or “BRITNEY FEARS”, as the Mirror’s front page skilfully manipulates her name to.
But the paper’s headline might be little misleading. There is only one fear and it is whether “booze binges” are wrecking Britney’s career.
And this is Britney’s career as what? It seems that an age has passed since Britney dressed as a schoolgirl and asked her baby to hit her one more time.
Back then Women danced, men shifted uncomfortably in their chairs and pre-teenage girls were given hope that an ordinary looking girl could have a boyfriend who hits her and become a star.
But now Britney is older. “Her face appears bloated,” notes the Mirror, “a far cry from the pretty schoolgirl look that used to drive fans wild.”
Britney looks older because she is older. She looks like any number of women of her age. If Britney cares to strap herself back into her school uniform, she could pass for a young woman reliving her youth at a nostalgic School Disco party.
But some expect more from Britney. Aren’t stars rewarded so handsomely because they are above the norm, exceptional talents who entertain the untalented? We all pay a small sum and Britney grows rich enough to dedicate herself to her art.
Many are disappointed to see her in such a state. Haven’t they paid for Britney’s stylist, detox therapist and minder? How did she end up in such a state on New Year’s Eve?
So when Britney was taken outside club Pure in Las Vegas after becoming tired and emotional, some gave full throat to their pain. “Whore, whore, whore,” they chanted.
The paper reports on how the singer was later spotted repeating “I love myself”.
The Mirror fails to say whom Britney was saying this affirmation to. Perhaps she was talking to us, the people who put her where she is today?
Perhaps Britney will tell us. Please be upstanding for the Princess of pop, as told to her official website:
“Dear Fans,
It has been a while since I’ve addressed you personally here on my official website. The last couple of years have been quite a ride for me, the media has criticized my every move and printed a skewed perception of who I really am as a human being. Behind every decision I have made in my public life there always seems to be an apparent contradiction. I have come to terms with that which is why I usually don’t pay much attention to it.
The last couple of years have been very enlightening for me and now that I’ve had the time to be “me,” I’ve been able to sit down and think about where I want to go with myself as an entertainer with absolutely no strings attached. I am now more mature and feel like I am finally “free.” I’ve been working so hard on this new album and I can’t wait for you all to hear it and to go on tour again! I would like to exclusively tell you that I am working hard to release the new album sometime later this year, but the date is of course not certain yet.
I look forward to coming back this year bigger and better than ever, and to also reaching out to my fans on a more personal level. I noticed today that one of my biggest fansites is shutting down soon and I want you all to know that I do understand all the reasons that went behind making that decision, and I am sad to see it closing. If I were you I’d be unhappy too if I had to read what I’ve been reading every day. But trust me, I get it. I know I’ve been far from perfect and the media has had a lot of fun exaggerating my every move, but I want you all to know that I love my fans so much, and I appreciate everything you have done for me, so Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!
Love,
Britney”
Geraldo Finally Euthanized
THE only surprise is that it’s taken this long: Twentieth Television’s Geraldo at Large has been canceled at last.
The show’s staff got word today that production will shut down in a matter of weeks, and that the show will disappear at the end of January.
We got the scoop that the show was going away a little prematurely – back in August, when word was that sagging ratings would have the show pulled by September. But Roger Ailes, chairman of Fox News and the Fox Television stations, hung in, if only because of pride.
Ailes had slammed the series onto the air in November 2005, after taking over the stations leadership from Rupert Murdoch’s son Lachlan, and immediately killing the newly-revived A Current Affair. The tabloid series had competed with, and in some cases beaten Ailes’ Fox News team on major stories, while Geraldo had a fat Fox News contract and was relegated to weekends.
At Large drew on the Fox News resources as it threw the shticky Geraldo into an arena that had passed him by. The show became most notable for its brutal, ugly and nasty promos, whose preoccupation with rapists, molesters and perverts stuck out when scheduled amid family programming.
Sadly, this is another show closing and a third consecutive strike for television stalwart Arthel Neville, who was brought on board At Large after stepping into Affair when her previous showcase, Good Day Live, was canceled.
Geraldo’s return to weekends at the Fox News Channel opens a slot for Warner Bros.’ magazine based on TMZ, the tabloid celebutard and crime-driven website fronted by flamboyant personality Harvey Levin, which got much mileage out of breaking the Mel Gibson anti-Semitism story, but whose bread and butter is sending out kids with cameras to harass celebrities, and again may find itself being too hard-edged for the real mainstream.
www.tabloidbaby.com
Richard Hammond’s Been Framed
BBC’s Top Gear frames Richard Hammond…
THE good news is that the footage of TV presenter Richard Hammond pile-driving his car into the mud should earn more money for good causes.
TV shows like You’ve Been Framed pay up to £250 for videos of children falling face first into their dinner, dads diving into empty swimming pools (how we laughed) and TV presenters crashing their cars and suffering severe head injuries.
And we will all get a chance to see this hilarious TV outtake (with voiceover jokes by Jeremy Clarkson, the Eddie Large to Hammond’s Syd Little) when Hammond’s show Top Gear returns to the magic box.
The Sun says the BBC “chiefs” have been “deliberating for months” over whether or not to show the world footage of their employee nearly dying at work.
Surely this footage will serve as cautionary tale, a vital cog in the BBC’s health and safety wheel. Would-be presenters and newsreaders contemplating careers at the Beeb should be shown the film in training sessions.
But now we are all going to see it. “DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME,” comes the health warning as Hammond is trapped into a 300pmph jet engine with wheels and invited to fire her up.
And there will be more. As Clarkson – who, as coincidence has it, writes for the Sun – tells us, the new show features 35 stunts.
And one of these involves the team launching a home-made space shuttle.
And we all know who safe they are…
Kate & See
IS Prince William’s lover Kate Middleton under surveillance?
We live in uncertain times and it might just be that the six police officers the Mail spots trailing Kate as she makes her way to work are keeping tabs on her.
The paper notes that Miss Middleton is not entitled to formal police protection, which further encourages us to believe she is being watched.
But why? Is the Establishment keen to prevent the birth of another Princess Diana? Or what about another Sarah Ferguson?
Not that flame-haired professional dieter Fergie has gone anywhere, least of all to work.
“FERGIE: ANDY & I STILL A COUPLE,” comes the Sun’s headline. A couple of what? A couple of freeloaders? A couple of swells? A couple of lovers?
When between holidays and resting up in London, Fergie says she resides at the family mansion. It is a tableau of domestic bliss. “We all sit round the table and eat together. Andrew and I believe in total parent unity.” Although, she concedes it “does have an effect” when mum and dad’s assorted boyfriends and girlfriends are around.
So is there a chance of reconciliation? Fergie says she and Andrew are “best friends”. And what is a romance without friendship?
So is there a chance of reconciliation? Perhaps. But before a remarriage, protocol must be followed.
The Mail hears Fergie recall her trip to see The Queen. Not her Majesty the Queen, you understand – Fergie has no more chance of being granted an audience with her former mother-in-law than she does of turning into a horse or being invited to an official royal function. Fergie has been to see Helen Mirren appearing as The Queen in a movie theatre.
And it brought back memories. Fergie says she loves Queen Elizabeth. The Queen is “one of the finest ladies I have ever met”. And while watching the film “I started beating myself up a bit, because I started thinking, ‘What a shame if I let her down in any way’.”
And as the punches rained down, Fergie felt a renewed pain. She remembered Diana. “I miss her, her humour. When I watched the film the other day and looked at her…”
Yes… Go on. And looked at her what? We may never know. Some things are just too painful to gaze upon.
What is clear is that there are lessons to be learned from Royal marriages past. Diana is dead, or living in the attic at Harvey Nichols. And Fergie is persona non grata at Windsor family get together.
And Kate Middleton is being watched…
More Dark Satanic Mills
WITH Saddam Hussein caught on camera, the suspected Suffolk Stranger awaiting trial and Anthea Turner in Surrey, attention turns to that other enemy of the people – Heather Mills McCartney.
“MUCCA BOOTED ME WITH HER FALSE LEG,” says the Sun’s headline. And in an instant we are in an outlet of the Starbucks coffee and muffin chain.
It is Belsize Park, the shabbier end of London’s chic Hampstead. Emma Levy, 38, 5ft tall and 6stone (facts she may well have proudly offered to the Sun without any need for a weigh-in) is sipping a coffee.
In walks Heather Mills (weight unspecified). Emma says the estranged wife of Sir Paul McCartney is wearing a cowboy hat, brown polo neck jumper, skintight jeans and boots.” Cruel minds would dub Heather Hopalong Cassidy, but we are above such slights.
Heather sits down. She is with a man. Emma pulls out her mobile phone and makes to take a snap. Then drama.
Emma says Heather jumped up and grabbed her by the throat and pushed her towards the door. “She lashed out with her left leg, kicking me in the bum. I have a big bruise.”
No picture of this bruise is offered up for our perusal, which is a shame given that Emma has a camera to hand. And neither do we see any shots of Heather enacting this alleged assault.
But a passer-by, one Hayleigh Sands, says she saw Heather’s face “contorted with anger”. She goes on: “She started rifling thought the woman’s bag to find her mobile phone. She broke down and started crying, ‘I do not need this right now. I’m getting death threats, going through a divorce and bringing up a baby.”
Poor Heather. It must be hard. Emma is perhaps fortunate that Heather’s leg was attached to Heather’s greater body at the time and not loose, thus affording her the chance to swing it about her head like a prosthetic claymore.
For her part, Heather speaks through her spokesman. He says his client was with her lawyer. “Heather suspected she was a journalist. She even admitted she was trying to make some money out of her. Heather did kick her up the backside – all the staff and customers started clapping.”
With their feet…
Whitney Houston’s Thongs From The Shows
WANNA buy Whitney Houston’s old knickers?
Long gone are the days when a keen fan would be forced to break into their idol’s dressing room and make off with a used hankie or hang about the stage door in the hope of getting an autograph or a shag.
Now you can actually buy the knickers and other lingerie worn by singing legends like Whitney Houston.
A load of Whitney’s goods are on sale. The singer needs money to pay off her debts. As auctioneer Steve Newmark tells the Star: “There’s some pretty personal stuff, even her underwear.”
For Star readers well versed in buying second-hand ladies’ underwear, we cannot confirm or deny that the garments have been laundered. As they know, soiled underwear is where the big money in used knickers is at. And we can only say that you pay your money and hope for the best. Highest bid wins.
But what else is “Debtney Houston” (Mirror) selling off to raise the £76,000 she needs to pay the bill for having them stored. Although the Sun says she needs £500,000 to meet an overdue tax demand.
Among the 400-plus items for sale, the Mirror notes a Schimmel custom-made see-through piano worth up to £200,000, a chair described as ‘Whitney’s Throne’, shoes, music equipment and 29 bustiers.
And there is an award. For any fantasists out there, know that this is your chance to get hold of a Boston Music Award for outstanding male vocalist.
Indeed, this is an eye-opener, a clue perhaps to problems that lurk deep within the Houston psyche. Are those knickers for sale or reassuringly Comfi Y-fronts customised for a more feminine fit? Is Houston a man, a drag act?
The Mail says not. It says this award belonged to Whitney’s former husband, the male singer Bobby Brown.
But it would still be a nice enough thing to own, to sit proudly in your pop museum, alongside that used Cliff Richard tissue, a hair from Noddy Holder’s beard and Gareth Gates…
David Gest 2007 Pin Up Calendar
FLIPPING through one of my beloved Star magazines while on vacation, I came across a titillating photo of David Gest washed up on the beach.
His cottage-cheese-in-a-ziplock-bag physique spills onto the sand with dapples of sunlight casting mysterious shadows along the pocked and lumpy flesh Liza Minnelli used to call “husband.
While not quite as well-known in the States, David Gest is considered to be the “Weirdest Person in the World” across the pond. Mr. Gest was dunked in a rusty tank full of alligators, snakes and spiders on a recent U.K. television show.
Those Brits really know how to entertain themselves – public humiliation of annoying celebutards makes for quality living room entertainment.
Medium: ink, acrylic and gouache hastily painted in sketchbook late at night. Much thanks to Viper Tetsu for a bit of word craftiness.
http://galleryoftheabsurd.typepad.com/
By Royal Appointment
What do Prince William and Kate Middleton share with Coleen McGloughlin and Alex Curran?
THE link between royalty and football is clear.
On one side are the pampered celebrity socialites and professional shoppers; on the other are the Wags.
But no more.
As the Mail reports, Prince William has “urged” his girlfriend, the lithesome Kate Middleton, to get a job. Why? Because he did not want her to be portrayed as a Wag.
The paper says the Prince was concerned his lover had yet to find a job. Having graduated from At Andrews University in June 2005 with a degree in History of Art, Kate was well placed to embark on a career working in a Bond Street art gallery or delivering local newspapers.
But still she had no job. And, as the Mail notes, Kate had been spotted carrying lots of carrier bags, causing her to look not enough unlike Coleen McLoughlin.
Wills was displeased. He had a word. And it seems that Kate listened to her prince. She is now working as an assistant buyer for clothing company Jigsaw’s junior accessories line.
She secured this job thank to her innate grasp of the fashion world, and her mum Carol being on speaking terms with the company’s owners John and Belle Robinson.
Kate is on the payroll, a taxpayer, just another working girl carving out life in the marketplace. A source tells us that Kate’s duties involve meeting suppliers and “deciding which stock – such as socks, tights and hair slides – to buy”.
Kate is a, er, professional shopper. And she is not one bit like Alex Curran, lover to footballer Steven Gerrard, who with a kung-fu “Hiya!” gets readers ready to fight for that bargain in the sales.
Accordingly, Kate works four days a week and, in light of her endeavours, is now on a three week break.
I Knew You Were Paying
WERE you there? Not you. This question is addressed to George Michael.
We are informed of the effects of smoking cannabis on the short-term memory. And we wonder is George whatshisname, a notable puffer of weed, can recall how he came by £1.5million on New Year’s Eve.
To plug any possible vacancies in his memory, the Sun says that George was paid this money for singing at a party thrown by “controversial nickel magnate” Vladimir Potanin.
The Mail takes up the story, perhaps only confusing George further with its talk of his being paid £1,786,743.
And while George looks for the extra thousands, readers see him boarding a plane to Moscow. “I’m your man,” says the Mail’s headline as George sets foot on Russian soil. He is glowing with anticipation, and radiating something or other.
George is then whisked to Mr Potanin’s pile on the outskirts of Moscow. And, accompanied by partner Kenny Goss, a crew of 25 and 15 band members, he plays.
The gig lasts for just over an hour. George is paid in cash. He leaves the venue at 6am. He flies straight back to London.
He goes home. He sleeps. He wakes up surrounded by money, some of it in loose change. And he wonders.
Happy 2006, everyone!
Beckhams: Leaning To Fly
ANOTHER day and another chance to see what David Beckham and Victoria have been up to.
The Sun operates as the Beckhams’ news agency, tracking each dinner, each outing and every one of Vicky’s changes of clothes with a rare dedication to duty.
Even with the Beckhams’ star on the wane, the Sun sticks by its showbiz pals with a perseverance not seen since Iraqi Information Minister Mohammed Saeed al-Sahhaf appeared before US tanks trundling into Baghdad to tell the world that his country was trouncing the invader.
Today the news is that Day-vid and Vicky are “indoor skydiving”.
The breathless story is that the Beckhams have paid £1,200 to hire the Airkix centre, Milton Keynes. There, with sons Brooklyn and Romeo in tow, they don flight suits.
They lie face down on tables – a posture beloved by many a footballer and his fragrant wife. They are learning how to freefall parachute.
Then, giddy with excitement, the four are led one at time to the wind tunnel. Standing above a gust of warm air produced by the Sun’s editor and another massive fan, each takes a turn to fly.
With the setting moved to light breeze, even Vicky is knocked off her dainty feet and sent high into air.
And there she remains, until she flutters down for dinner…
Moss & Doherty’s Thai Shtick
KATE Moss and Pete Doherty have given us little of substance; even talk of their wedding has been dismissed by official sources as nonsense, mere Thai shtick.
But Kate and Pete are worthy of comment. And today they give us the early contender for headline of the year. As the Star announces: “KATE ‘N’ PETE’S 3-IN-BED ROMP WITH TOM CAT.”
The sickos! Kill yourself with drugs and fags by all means, Pete and Kate, but romping with a kitty cat is plain wrong. We love our animals in the UK and we know where to draw the line.
It is almost too much to read on. But through webbed fingers we peek at the story and note: “Outrageous Kate Moss and her new ‘husband’ Pete Doherty consummated their Thai wedding night with a three-in-a-bed romp – with a tom cat.”
After yesterday’s news that the wedding was “bizarre”, are we now supposed to believe that this betrothal was sealed not by a kiss but by having a bestial threesome?
And this is not all. As the Star says, the newlyweds’ bed was festooned with rice, coins, sesame seeds and the aforesaid cat. Not the detritus of Pete’s drug taking but items assembled in accordance with Buddhist marriage rites. Or at least that is what the informed Star says.
And the equally knowing Mirror says Pete and Kate have been shut in their Thai hotel room “only accepting deliveries of booze”.
And Go Cat…
4p Or Not 4p
WITH the Rogarians now among us, it is time to appraise their value to the mixture of Celts, Anglo Saxons, and other immigrant stock that make up the vast bulk of the greater British peoples.
And we are a mixture of all colours and creeds. Over two pages, the Mail shines a light on the “UNITED COLOURS OF BRITAIN – A person from every country in the world all living here.”
It’s a decent headline, albeit not strictly true. The Mail goes on to say that it has “traced and photographed” a person from each of the 192 countries that make up the UN, save for two. Are these two immigrants in hiding? And are they a Romanian and a Bulgarian?
But let us not judge the Mail too harshly. It tries. And while it looks for those illusive Rogarians, it also looks for the rest of us.
Are we in London? No. Are we in Newcastle? No. What about Birmingham, Manchester and Bath. No, no and no.
The paper has photographs of streets taken on January 2, 2007: “The day when millions gave work a miss.”
The paper rightly notes that Jan 2, 2007 was officially a working day in England. It notes that the missing millions were not indoors, sat at their desks catching up with their work (opening a vast Christmas backlog of viral emails and risqué Internet jokes). They were in bed. Yesterday, says the paper, was the “greatest national ‘sickie’ in history”.
True enough to say that work is for the working classes, and Britain Plc is fast running out of that sector of staff. Unless, of course, the immigrants want to work hard and do the messy, blue collar jobs for less money?
And surely many of them do. But what are they worth to us? Returning to the opening question: what value is immigration to the UK economy?
The answer is shocking, not least of all for you who employ Latvian waiters, Czech gardeners and Polish builders keen to work harder and for less money than many British employees. Answer: “4p A WEEK.”
The Sun says that’s the “economic boost” each of us gets from migrant workers. And its headline figure is at odds with the Government’s “boast” that immigration swells the economy by £4billion a year. Four pence per week, per head works out at £126million for the 60milion people legally living in the UK.
And to thank for this kernel of fact we have Migrationwatch, an independent organisation that, as its literature says, is “not opposed to immigration that is moderate and managed”.
The Mail says that Migrationwatch takes into account the country’s gross domestic product and how new arrivals add to the population. The result is that migration raises the UK’s GDP by 0.1 per cent.
Says Sir Andrew Green, chairman of Migrationwatch: “The main beneficiaries are the immigrants themselves who are able to send home about £10million a day. Not the host nation.”
So it would be better if the immigrants brought their families and dependents over here and kept the money in the UK?
The other deduction to make is that we all benefit from immigration. It might only be 4p a week, but it is still 4p more than we would have had. And our garden does look so much better…
Wills Of Fire
FOR you, Prince Harry, the smoking is over.
The Mail tells us that in light of the impending Ministry of Defence ban on smoking in Army barracks, Harry has reportedly resolved to quit the evil weed.
Young soldiers can train to brave enemy munitions and friendly dire, but light up a fag and it is so much the worse for them.
Of course, keeping our boys alive is a noble aim. And if Harry, who is said to puff up to 20 Marlboro Light cigarettes a day, can kick the habit then all well and good. The last thing you need as you creep towards a Taliban position in the dead of night is a comrade with a hacking cough.
And Harry is not the only Royal who needs to change his ways. As the Sun reports, armed officers from the Metropolitan Police Royalty Protection Department are not so keen on Prince William’s antics.
The paper reports that Wills is said to be “addicted” to the thrill of speed. We talk not of the narcotic but of Wills riding on his powerful 1100cc Honda Super Blackbird motorbike.
As Wills zooms along the highways and byways in his black leathers, officers are worried about keeping up with him and breaking the speed limit.
The Mail reveals that Wills’ bike can move at 175mph, well in excess of the 70mph national speed limit. News that he recently had “a wobble” on said bike has caused alarm.
A source tells the paper: “There are worries that if the Prince speeds in 30pmph zones, the tailing officers will have to as well. If they refuse to do so, they will leave William on his own.”
But there is a radical solution: the bodyguards could always force Wills to pull over and issue him with a fixed penalty notice for breaking the law. Just a thought…
2006 – Binge & Gone
THE ninth rule of journalism dictates that tales of alcoholic excess must be illustrated by pictures of young women in short skirts.
The Express meets this obligation with commendable ease. And then surpasses itself with a picture of two girls embracing in Norwich. For purposes of identification one girl pulls her friend’s skirt up and over her knickers-encased backside.
Another picture shows three girls walking arm-in-arm about Newcastle. And then we are back in Norwich where a young woman (short tartan skirt and black boots) “lies in the gutter”.
Could this be the same girl we have already seen in that shameless embrace? Note again the skirt. Consider once more the boots. Not sure?
But before the Express’s man on the scene can dash over and solve the puzzle by pulling the woman’s skirt up and over her backside, the Mail steps in.
It too is in Norwich. And it spots a girl in the street. “Her skirt has ridden up around her waist, her handbag is lying beside her and she is too drunk to care,” says the caption.
Gallantly, the paper wastes not a moment in whipping out its camera and taking a picture. This girl looks much like the Express’s picture of “debauchery UK”.
But such is the uniform way of fashion that one girl lying in the gutter with a tartan skirt riding up and her booted legs splayed looks very much like another.
See the male youth in Bristol standing dutifully alongside his “vomiting girlfriend”. Note her patterned short skirt and black boots. This is the “the New Year binge” and the dress code is clear.
It is the “NASTY NEW YEAR”, and the Mirror spots girls in Norwich, naturally. One girl rests her head on a dustbin. She is wearing a skirt. But in a departure from the norm she is wearing brown and not black boots.
Has she lost her black boots? Has her mind become altered by booze making brown appear as black? Is she about to be sick? And is her friend assuring her that she should get some fresh air…to her backside.
And is the Star’s girl lying on the “deck” in Norwich going to catch her death of cold? Or survive that and die of embarrassment?
Posted: 2nd, January 2007 | In: Tabloids | Comment (1)
Pete & Kate Thai The Knot
KATE Moss and Pete Doherty have said “High do”.
With 2007 in its infancy, the Sun draws readers’ attention to an early contender for celebrity wedding of the year.
Not for Pete and Kate so much meringue-style wedding dresses and his ‘n’ hers crabsticks. All these two lovebirds need to marry is a Thai priest, a Thai beach and a “bizarre Buddhist ceremony”.
The Sun sees flowers draped over Kate and Pete’s shoulders. Their hands are “cupped” in prayer. It is 1.30pm local time at the exclusive Amanpuri resort.
Bizarre? Potty? Or a “romantic beach ceremony in exotic Thailand”, as the Star says?
All we know for sure is that Kate and Pete “pledged lifetime allegiance to each other”. The do was watched by friends and family. The Sun says they “clapped” and “cheered”.
The Mirror has a picture of the event. Pete is wearing a jacket and shirt. On his head sits his trademark hat. On his face sits his trademark pasty look.
Kate is in a gown. She is barefoot. There is champagne. A bridesmaid is visible to her left in a sequinned dress. The Mirror says Kate wears flowers in her hair, although these are not in shot.
Such are the facts. And such is the news that Kate and Pete are not married, not really. The Mirror says the “bohemian” service may not be legal. It is “merely a symbolic gesture”.
Which all means that Pete and Kate can do it all over again, only properly. Next time they can get married in the pages of a glossy magazine, as tradition and normality dictate.
Look out for Kate in that expansive white dress and Pete dressed in a suit so shiny you could snort a line of cocaine on his lapel…
Saddam Hussein, Gerald Ford or James Brown?
AND this is supposed to be a holiday week?
Every time we turn on the TV, there’s another dead person! Hooded hangmen! A corpse onstage at the Apollo Theatre! Chevy Chase SNL highlights! It’s all too depressing – and we’re still a day away from Dick Clark on New Year’s Rockin Eve!
So let’s lighten up with a little quiz! See if you can match the following tributes to the recently deceased person. Saddam Hussein, Gerald Ford or James Brown:
1) “There were people who thought he was strict, too strict.”
2) “…Tragic and a reason for sadness.”
3) “He just had a personality that I think would override many of the people who might not agree with him.”
4) “He was like the tough-love father, the patriarch.”
5) “Ronnie and I always considered him a dear friend.”
6) “He said, ‘You keep going backward, if you keep going back like that you’re going to end up back where I started.'”
7) “I swear to God we were deeply shaken.”
8) “We mourn the loss of such a leader.”
9) “He just gave up. We were astonished. It was strange. He just gave up.”
10) “He was a giant among men and will be greatly missed.”
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