Strange Attractors: The Delusional And The Witless
Tawfiq Chahboune
Some "celebrities" – a much devalued currency – have some
competence when entering political terrain as partisan commentators. Susan
Sarandon, Tim Robbins, Sean Penn, Robert Redford, among many distinguished
others, have with varying success been able to articulate and defend various
social and political policies, usually radical liberal ones. In the UK, however,
we have an altogether different set of entertainers masquerading as intelligent,
politically motivated partisans. Lack of prowess in their chosen field of
entertainment, as opposed to the talented Americans named above, and an
inability to grasp the issues seems to be the criterion to mouth off – or
curiously not (see below) – on political issues.
For proof of this, one need only witness the impish BBC
journalist Michael Crick in action (prediction: barrel, fish, shooting). Exhibit
1. At the Hartlepool by-election the Coronation Street thespian Liz Dawn, carted
in by Labour to bring some "glitter" to the campaign, was faced by the wily
Crick, and with predictably amusing results. With some style did she join the
roll call of celebrity Blairites who have no idea what they are meant to be
supporting or endorsing. "I don't know," came the monotonous reply to nearly
every Crick question about Labour policy. On one occasion, proving the
versatility for which she is known, she replied, "I don't know about
Hartlepool", possibly not knowing where she was. Her final, resounding riposte
came thus: "You're a boring prat". It was a bravura performance worthy of her
talents. That she did not feel in the least bit ashamed is revealing. Exhibit 2.
On the election stump for Labour, Ross Kemp, the "actor" fantastically rumoured
to be a possible Labour candidate for parliament, was asked to name one Labour
policy. The man known as "Grunt" looked blank, one of the two methods in his
acting repertoire. Realising that he had been rumbled as a fake and as a
numskull, Kemp turned irate, his other mode of acting, and, mumbling some
apelike language, scarpered (that he could not even say something as utterly
banal as "extra investment" is instructive). Exhibit 3. Spotting the Manchester
United manager Sir Alex Ferguson at a 2005 election get-together for Labour,
Crick mocked the increasingly incompetent Red Devil (there's a name for Blair,
or should that be Blue Devil?): "Why are you here? Is it because you're passed
it, too?" Ferguson was uncharacteristically tongue-tied and more red-faced than
usual, and that's saying something.
Some have learned that most apt of popular wisdoms: "It's better
to stay silent and look a fool, rather than speak and remove all doubt." Liz
Dawn has not yet done so. She has the excellent excuse of being a moron. Ross
Kemp couldn't decide between the two choices on offer: speaking ape or making a
knuckle-dragging sharpish disappearance. The upshot was a terribly funny
synchronous mixture, reminding all that although apes made the leap to man, some
have unfortunately not leapt far enough (though fortunate for casting directors
of London-based soaps and demented dramas involving hairy Cro-Magnon commandos).
Fortuitously faced with awful footballing opposition for over a decade, Ferguson
was able to win a stash of trophies with a mediocre team. Thankfully, this much
over-rated manager is finally being shown-up as a result of the rebirth of
artful English and European football. What is it about Blair's New Labour that
attracts the most gormless of celebrities?
Over the past eight years some extraordinary instances of New
Labour weirdness and descent into unreason (well, worse than usual) has made
itself known. Blair's infatuation with the irrational unveiled itself in the
most hilarious fashion. For example, the "thinker" Edward de Bono has developed
a ludicrous philosophy of thinking known as the Six Thinking Hats system of
thought: for discussing hunches (wear a red hat), for listing the advantages of
a project (don a yellow hat), playing devil's advocate (slip on a black hat),
and blah, blah, blah. "Not wishing to boast," de Bono boasted, "this is the
first new way of thinking to be developed for 2,400 years since the days of
Plato, Socrates and Aristotle." Let it not be said that de Bono is not a modest
man. Philip Gould, one of the "brains" behind New Labour's success, proudly
bragged that he was building "a vast, multi-dimensional structure moving
forwards and backwards, upwards and downwards, meshing abstraction and
concreteness, policy with presentation, future to past". Straight from the
horse's mouth - a very stupid horse who ought to be put out of his misery by
being introduced to Mr Knacker and his yard. In the past we have had "political"
celebrities espousing mumbo-jumbo and gobbledegook. What we've never witnessed,
as far as I know, is the freakish sight of a political party audaciously hiding
behind celebrity-supporters who don't know anything about anything! It may
simply be that the seriously delusional (New Labour) attract the vacuous and
witless (celebrities). Whatever the reason - could it be that Blair and Co have
nothing to offer, other than war and freewheeling capitalism, and have to
manufacture gimmicks? - we should all appreciate what Crick has shown us:
politics has finally entered a Wonderland - and many untalented Celebrities'
Adventures therein. The Chartists, Levellers, Paine, Suffragettes, et al would
find it all most amusing.
June 2005