Repulsive

[fpb]

Once upon a time, celebrities who were shown to have acted repulsively in public retired from the scene. Sometimes, legend says, they shot themselves; more often they went abroad. Anyway, a man who had embezzled funds or, like Byron, had sex with his own half-sister, was certainly never welcome in his country again.

And that was once upon a time. I think we may confidently certify that there is no such attitude any more - not for any reason whatsoever. Paedophilia used to be the last limit, the one thing that would make a man a pariah, not to be spoken of or to; but Michael Jackson's repulsive appearance in London from his brief exile in Bahrein shows that that taboo has now fallen. I do not have the evidence that Jackson actually corrupted children; but he has behaved throughout as the guiltiest of guilty men, and while courts need evidence - which can be dealt with by clever lawyers and the liberal application of handy cash - public opinion only needs reasonable certainty. Michael Jackson should never have shown his freakish, manufactured face in a Western country again.

What drives this is primarily TV. There are, of course, diehard fans who will not believe that their idol has clay feet - is, in fact, clay all the way to his armpits at least. But these are freaks and not very numerous - certainly not numerous enough to drive a change in mood. But to TV, celebrities once made are permanent fodder for the fabrication of news and events. They cannot afford one of them to vanish abroad. The thoughts of every television executive from Moscow to Tokyo and back are today on an exclusive hour-length interview in which the freak's news value can be exploited worldwide. The greed for ratings - that is, for dollars - trumps any feeling of shame.

Comments

[fpb.livejournal.com]

Not just in your country. Reality shows, which were invented in the Netherlands (one of a million reasons why I am racist about that country), are a pestilence and a plague all over the world. I gather there is one even in Iran. I only ever watched half of one episode, in Italy, because it happened to feature the showgirl Pamela Prati, whom I find stunning; and I was revolted by what I saw. It did not help that all the other participants were clearly ganging up on Prati, nor that, from what I could see, she was behaving nicely and decently and had given them no reason at all to torment her. But what seemed clear to me is that the whole revolting display was designed to make participants turn on each other, dog eat dog, and rewarded the kind of behaviour which would, in real life, have been the most disastrous. Perhaps they had turned on Prati exactly because she was nice and decent; or perhaps because her astonishing beauty and towering height (six foot in her bare feet) made someone feel inadequate. Anyway, I was sick, and I never watched anything else of the kind again.

Even so, there is sometimes some kind of sardonic justice about the proceedings, which can provide you, if not with a laff, at least with a grim smile. Do you know who is taking part in one such show in Britain right now, with all the attendant humiliations? None other than David Gest, Liza Minnelli's two-minute husband! Talk about reaching your natural level.