Sunday, September 21, 2003

ONO... KEEP THEM ON: Surprisingly, given the opportunity to strip Yoko Ono naked to promote peace, most people just gave their knives back and muttered that, really, they think that war has got a lot to be said for it, don't you think?

In other rich people news, we're still puzzled beyond belief by the whole McCartney story. For those of you who'd managed, luckily, to get through the weekend without hearing it, Macca went down to see David Blaine in a box at one am. It was meant to be a "private" visit, but his publicist Geoff Baker had tipped off a photographer. Punches were thrown; then FabMacca sues Geoff. And then reinstated him later, saying that the sacking had been a joke. See... it's puzzling. In what way would a visit to a site where there's a live 24 hour TV broadcast and a bunch of journalists and camera people sitting round waiting for something - anything - to happen be a "private" visit anyway? And since it's not like, I don't know, taking your wife for a check-up or having your prostate probed, why would you be so upset at someone seeing you at a public event of this sort anyway? Unless you were slightly embarrassed that your life has been reduced to going to gawp at a dull man in a glass box? Or could it be that Paul had read about Gloria Estefan being the target for David's old nappies, and was hoping for some poop action for himself? Yeah, maybe you'd want to keep that quiet. But assuming that's not the case, why would he choose this moment to sue Baker, when the publicity surrounding Mccartney has been almost unrelentingly shit since the Sainted Linda of Burger died - stories about engagement rings flying out of windows, rows, family disenchantment with his new spouse, the consistent legal battles which make Paul look greedy, moaning about parking fines - the first time in years McCartney does something that would be genuinely popular, punching a tabloid photographer, he gets sacked for it?

But the most curious aspect of all is... the man is a multi-billionaire. Can't he come up with something better to do in the middle of a week than going down to see fucking Blaine hanging in a box? Paul, you're loaded. You could hire fifteen naked men to hang in a box if you so desired. Or get a video and a pizza. Or sue the British Apple Marketing Board for selling something called Apples without your express say-so. Can your life really be so dull?


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