Death of a Celebrity.
You may not have caught it but
famed druggie songstress Witney Houston passed away yesterday and I
sure the world went mad.
Leaving that for a short while I
wonder how many of you can say who these five people are below?
Garung Gajbahur
Ian Sartorius-Jones
Sachin Limbu
John King
Anthony Downing.
These are the last five people to die
in combat for queen and country, all in the last few months and I am
betting the majority of people reading this did not recognise a
single name. The brave souls would have had their names read out by a
suitably sombre faced TV presenter with a £500 hair cut and a £2000
shirt from Anderson and Sheppard, but that would be it, no multipage
spread in the papers, no glamorous Grammy awards dedicated to them,
no multitudes of sycophantic grief stricken mentalists all trying to
outdo each other in their demonstration of pseudo-grief. What they
leave behind is a family bereft of a father, parents dealing with the
appalling situation of out-living their children and then a nation
that has forgotten their name as soon as Eastenders starts, a
disgusting protest by some religious extremists and then a plot of
land 6 foot deep, 7 foot long and 2.5 feet wide or a plaque. How on
earth can we justify the sacrifice of our servicemen and women when
their names are forgotten as soon as they are read out whilst at the
same time hailing the death of a smackhead as a worldwide tragedy?
A child dies of malnutrition every 3
seconds, yet do we really care? Do any of us stop and think about
this terrible statistic? How many of us sit in front of the TV and
turn it over when some poor little fucker with flies on his face and
a distended stomach gets shown? The fact of the matter is unless some
strong willed obnoxious bastard like Sir Bob Geldoff comes along and
MAKES us give some money. No one cares. He saved millions upon
millions of lives and yet all he gets in this country is ridicule.
Think about that for a second, He saved millions upon millions of
lives and yet all he gets is ridicule. Amazing.
It seems that if a truth is a little
too uncomfortable for us to take then we hang all our grief on
celebrity. Look what happened when non-paedophile Michael Jackson
died. I remember watching the news and being astounded by the
fuckwittery on show, some cunt was moon walking around the hospital
grounds in tribute, some fucker was dressed as a Zombie from thriller
and then his fucking family all appeared wearing a single white
glove! Give me a fucking break. Everyone turned into a non-paedophile
Michael Jackson fan and he was hailed as a new messiah, never mind
that he shared his bed with children, never mind he was on drugs,
never mind he was so ashamed of his African heritage he apparently
bleached his skin. Non-paedophile Michael Jackson was admittedly a
talented singer/songwriter but why raise him to such a lofty pedestal
whilst grumpy sod Sir Bob Geldoff gets fuck all with a side helping
of ridicule?
It’s the same for Amy Winehouse, to
be honest her death was just the warm up for Whitney’s death. When
Amy died the press went to town with their superlatives to describe
how tragic yet talented Amy was. They had not had a celebrity death
to eulogise about for a while so they had a big fucking jamboree when
Amy died and the public lapped it up. She was hailed as the best
singer ever, the best song writer ever, people who had never fucking
listened to her before got their faces on TV by wailing and
embarrassing themselves with frenzied demonstrations of faux-grief.
Don't get me fucking started about
soap deaths. When some non entity decides they want to leave a soap
opera, they are even shown leaving in a taxi or by being killed off,
and do you know what? A fucking TV character gets more coverage when
they die than a brave serviceman gets or some poor fucking kid in
Africa gets when they starve to death. The world is sick when
druggies, weirdo non-paedophile’s and fictional TV characters die
and they get more attention than anyone else does. What makes them
more deserving of our grief than another person? Why go to such
lengths to mourn one person over the next when you know neither?
Sure, they are in the public eye and so their fans need to know, but
why should we celebrate the life of some selfish bastard who spent
all their fans money by taking drugs and pissing it up against the
wall? Why should I be exposed to hour upon hour, page upon page of
some washed up dead druggie.
People have tried to tell me that
because of the pressures of being famous they need to take drugs to
escape it all. FUCK. RIGHT. OFF. I fucking dare anyone to look
me in the eye and tell me these so called celebrities have got it
hard. I read a story last week about an elderly couple in manchester
who have to make a choice when it gets cold, food or fuel, they
cannot fucking afford to have the heating on and eat as well, and
some bastard wants to snort her millions up her nose because life is
too hard!! You fucking scabourous, vacuous horror of a human being.
tell that to a war widow bringing up her children on her own, tell
that to a starving african child, tell that to anyone who's daily
life is a battle to wake up for the next. And despite all this,
people celebrate her life now that she is dead.
I apologise for the shameless
plagarism but is seems in this day and age that All men are equel but
some are more equel than others.
