Published on April 15th, 2010 | by Lisa McInerney8
Surreptitiously bothered that N-Dubz’ Dappy managed to father one child, let alone two.
It may surprise you to learn that I’m a bit of a patriot. It may surprise my brother even more, who had a drunken go at me last month when I forgot to stand for the national anthem (South Galway is retrotastic like that). The fact is, I like being Irish. We may not be the best looking, or the most intelligent, or the least likely to suffer fools, but … but … We have nice accents and … erm … Anyway, I just thought I should assure you, at this late stage in the Game Of Jaw, that I do try to find Irish celebrity nonsense for you parochial scandalhounds to slaver over. The problem is, of course, that Irish celebrities are very boring.
Perhaps you could argue that they’re mannered and classy, but I’m calling “stodgy killjoys”. Every week, I trawl Irish gossip sites with my head in my hands, which is awkward in terms of navigation and that, but I never find anything remotely ticklish. Do you lot care that Rosanna Davison got a pedicure? Is anyone remotely interested that someone from Eastenders bought a pair of kecks in Brown Thomas? ‘Course not. Anyway, let’s press on – I just wanted to make sure that you were aware that I take this column seriously and do try to tailor it to my audience (watch and learn, Sindo).
I’d like to begin this cavalcade of regrettable internationalism by getting the bombshells out of the way, as bad news weighs heavily on me.
Cream are not reforming. I know, I know. It’s a terrible shock. Who knew they were still alive?
But fear not, ageing rock-types! There is a band still making waves who sound a lot like Cream – Keane (obviously I meant “sound” in a linguistic sense).
Keane, as even my mammy knows, have suffered long and hard the upturned noses of the Cool Brigade (of which I am a decorated officer), and previous attempts at making themselves out to be edgier-than-thou have met with much ridicule and also some pelted tomatoes. Remember Tom’s ill-advised coke n’ rehab thing a few years back? Anyway, it really doesn’t help matters that the Conservative party used Everybody’s Changing*at their manifesto launch, which, if we look at Labour’s adoption of D-Ream’s Things Can Only Get Better in 1997 next to Peter Cunnah’s subsequent career trajectory, can only be a Very Bad Thing. Keane were “horrified” and quickly pointed out that they did not give permission for the song to be used. I’d say the damage has already been done. For the Tories. Har har.
A front page article in its official newspaper, L’Osservatore Romano, has stated,
“They took drugs; swept up by their success, they lived dissolute and uninhibited lives … But, listening to their songs, all of this seems distant and meaningless … Their beautiful melodies, which changed forever pop music and still give us emotions, live on like precious jewels.”
What kind of airy-fairy waffle is this?! When did Neil from The Young Ones start writing for El Pope-oh? Still, I’m so glad it’s ok to like The Beatles now, forty years later and just when the Catholic Church is in PR freefall. In celebration, I’m going to buy all their LPs and lop my locks into a bowl cut. As soon as I finish eating baked alaska out of the bowl.
And so from making a prannet out of yourself for pointlessly broadcasting a loosened grudge, to making a prannet out of yourself by loosely broadcasting a pointless grudge. Sigourney Weaver has bravely slammed The Hurt Locker a whole fat month after it won the Oscar for Best Picture.
“Jim (Cameron) didn’t have breasts, and I think that was the reason,” she told Brazilian news site Folha Online. “He should have taken home that Oscar … In the past, Avatar would have won because they loved to hand out awards to big productions, like Ben-Hur. Today it’s fashionable to give the Oscar to a small movie that nobody saw.”
Understandably, Siggie’s disappointed that Avatar didn’t win the gong because she’s in it and was all awesome and that. But claiming that The Hurt Locker only won because director Kathryn Bigelow has breasts? Baking powder? Wasn’t Bigelow the first woman ever awarded Best Director? Was it really coz boobs were in last season? Way to shit on feminism, Sigourney! Claiming a respected director’s achievement was down to her having a nice pair of melons, while simultaneously whinging that you didn’t get a party bag and it’s all the other girls’ fault? Jesus. You’d find more class in Girls Aloud.
And I’ll prove it to you. Girls Aloud, according to The Ginger One, Nicola Roberts, is “a circle of trust and you have to earn your place in it.” Now, isn’t that how female friendship should work? Like “Meet The Fockers“, according to Nicola. Lovely. Nicola came out with this life-affirming Care-Bearism whilst dismissing suggestions that there’s a feud a’ brewin’ between The Irish One, Nadine Coyle, and The Rest Of Them. Apparently there’s been no contact since September. “I talked to the other girls about it on Monday,” puzzled Nicola, “and no, none of us have heard from her. But there’s no feud.”
Did any of you lot spot that supreme example of passive-aggressive sideswiping? Nicola’s not heard from Nadine, and nor have any of the other girls, who are All In This Together as proper pals not like that L.A. based snobarse who refuses to care about their circle of trust but THERE’S NO FEUD so stop, like, worrying. That is the cleverest thing any of them has ever done. Apart from run off to L.A, of course.
But then, I’m a patriot, remember? I’m Team Ireland.
*I quite like Everybody’s Changing. I think it’s the true mark of a Cool Brigadier when she can say, hand on heart, that she doesn’t much care what any of you losers think about that.