Tuesday, August 18, 2009

R.I.P. #1

The recent death of Michael Jackson left me strangely unmoved. When Princess Di died I was living in a house in Denmark full of hippies who didn’t give a toss, so I’d no prior experience of being unmoved and being told this was strange. I felt genuinely sorry for their families but not much else, possibly because I hadn’t enjoyed Jackson’s later music much and adhered to the Jarvis Cocker school of thought that though talented and possibly harmless he probably wasn’t the saviour of all the world’s children. Then I remembered he had brothers called Jackie, Tito, Jermaine and Marlon; that night I dreamed a dream – good grief I must have eaten a lot of cheese the previous evening - what it would’ve been like if Jackie Chan, President Josip “Broz” Tito of Yugoslavia, Germaine Greer and Marlon Brando had been the pallbearers:

Germaine: You know, he was such a beautiful young man, in that special age between innocence and maturity.
Marlon: He coulda been a contender.
Germaine: He was a contender, you idiot! It’s just that you choose to judge him by the handed-down values of a Patriarchal society...
Jackie: Hey, this funeral is kinda boring, how about if the hearse is hijacked by the Triads, door opens, coffin flies down road and through the streets of Chinatown, and we go after it fighting everybody we meet on the way?
Germaine: ...that gives women nothing but second-class sexual citizenship and shitty orgasms
Marlon: Got any butter with you?*
Germaine: No I haven’t, you fat, pervy narcissist! So what are you rebelling against?
Marlon: What have you got? Dairylea would probably do.
Germaine: I didn't fight to get women out from behind vacuum cleaners to get them onto the cheese board.
Jackie: Ha, so you think your verbal kung fu is good, heh, Sheila?? You wait till Julie Birchill show up, then we see who is true master!
Marlon: The horror, the horror...
Tito: Hey, I successfully led partisan troops against the fascist armies during World War II and then united the mutually antagonistic Southern Slavic peoples during 35 years of relative harmony whilst both making friends with Western leaders and keeping the Red Army at bay, while this Jackson was just a singer with an squeeky voice and a funny face. I can’t believe I agreed to do this. Still, I ‘spose, a gig’s a gig.
Vicar (David Bowie, for it is he): Ashes to ashes, funk to funky, Michael Jackson was a junkie; Gone to the llama ranch in the sky, hitting an all-time high.
Everybody: Amen.

Gadjo Dilo wishes to thank the producers of On The Waterfront, Last Tango in Paris, The Wild One, Apocalypse Now and all of Jackie Chan’s films, and the publishers of The Female Eunuch, The Beautiful Boy , Ashes to Ashes and Yugo First: An Autobiography for their kind permission etc.

* I hesitated, much, before referencing this by-all-accounts terminally unpleasant film; but then I thought, if anyone can handle it Germaine Greer probably can.

Here's the geezer with his bros from the era which I personally prefer to remember:

12 comments:

Francis Sedgemore said...

A fine obituary for an apparently popular popular singer. But remind me, who is Germaine Greer? Over the decades I can vaguely recall photographs in the 'qualities' of a woman of Antipodean persuasion in various ages and states of undress. Is this the one?

Morton Shadow said...

"Gone to the llama ranch in the sky,"

No *that* actually *sounds* like a Bowie lyric!

(It's right up there with "someone's pinched me sausages...")

;)

xxx
Mort

Gaw said...

If cheese produced that sort of stuff it would be an even more highly prized comestible than it already is.

Francis: 'various states of undress'. I'm not sure the notorious 'Oz' photos could be encompassed by a 'dressed/undressed' scale!

Scarlet-Blue said...

Germaine Greer was that woman from Celebrity Big Brother.
Sx

inkspot said...

Francis, google germaine greer gusset.

Gadj, which terminally unpleasant movie? Specify, dear boy, there are so many.

Francis Sedgemore said...

"Francis, google germaine greer gusset."

I'd rather not.

Camilla Jessop said...

I am so ashamed of myself - I had to look, but so wish I hadn't. Ladies displaying their front bottom (not that she is a lady)is bad enough but what a ghastly jardin. I am not one for over-mowing the lawn, but an untidy Lady Garden is most unpleasant. I really thought Australians were so much more bodily aware than Frenchwomen.

Lulu LaBonne said...

Well I like Germy, untidy lady garden or no.

That is also my favoured Jackson era, the later period was too creepy for words - and adore those trousers, both on and off stage.

Kevin Musgrove said...

The Jackson Five were best in cartoon format, second only to the Beatles cartoon.

I've not had lunch in the staff room for the past ten weeks so as to avoid the discussions about the Jordan/Peter split. Brangelina (stil...) and Michael Jackson's death.

Gadjo Dilo said...

Francis, she's had a varied career - she was also Chlamydia Sufferer #3 in the ribald Auzzie comedy The Clinic (I wish) - and used states of undress only to undress our states of mind.

Morton, welcome to this blog, sir. Most of that eulogy is a Bowie lyric; I just added the llama, which I considered he also would have done had he but thought a bit more about it. ("Sausages", though?)

Gaw, I've just had a look at the picture and it seems quite pleasant - is that what they call a "half-past six"? Better than anything Birchill could do - come on Jules, bring it on!!!

Scarley, she was indeed, and it was the only episode of BB I ever bothered to watch, as I'd hoped to hear more pearls of wisdom/nonsense from her than might be expected from the other characters they invite on that prog.

Inky, Last Tango in Paris, the one where Brando smears butter on Maria Schneider's arsehole - hence my reference to dairy products - something I wouldn't deplore in and of itself, but the film is apparantly a momument to the Objectivisation of Women (sorry, lads, I'm kinda with Germaine on that one!)

Madame Camilla, I reckon Australians are pretty "bodily aware" when it comes to rugby swerves and picking a wrist-spinner's wrong 'un, but as for their women they probably take whatever they can get.

Lulu, me too (see above), though then she comes out with something bonkers like: "Of course, men are the way they are because they always wanted to f**k their dog and women are the only available legal substitutes", and then the magic is ruined for me for a while.

Kevin, you may be right: many pop groups would have been better in cartoon format, take The Banana Splits for example. Speaking of which... Jordan/Peter? Sound like something positively biblical.

Madame DeFarge said...

Will this film go straight to DVD or can it be watched in arthouse cinemas across the country?

Gadjo Dilo said...

Madame, which film are we talking about? I admit that we've taken in quite a lot here, from Marlon Brando to The Banana Splits via Australia's answer to Carry On Nurse. If you have a new film in mind, please write the script and we'll try to get it made!