Monday, 16 October 2017


I am not about to start pontificating on the delights of alcohol, especially poncey cocktails, no, a bottle of rough red is more my style, not that any of this has anything to do with the subject I am about to address, one of immense import to the wellbeing of society and the way we regard ourselves, or to be more precise the way Hollywood tossers regard us, those right on politically correct commissars of socially acceptable behaviour. Our behaviour naturally, not theirs. What is this all about? Well lend me your ears for I come to crap on Tinseltown not to praise it, and not before time you may say, and if you don’t, then I will.

My tale concerns an individual who sails under the name of Harvey Weinstein, I had never heard of the fellow until recently but apparently he is a big cheese in Hollywood which goes a long way to explaining my ignorance. Our Harv has been accused of indulging in that revered ritual of film land, casting couch theatrics, a custom as old as celluloid, or to couch this in a more recognisable form, spread your legs for a chance of stardom, crude but so very true and Harvey is a master of that particular art.

This is not about wannabe stars sipping cocktails, more a case of sipping Harvey’s banger up against a wall, and very successful at it he was, the women must have been queuing the length of Sunset Boulevard for the privilege of having a grope in the stationary cupboard with the priapic director whose word could make or break the career of they who managed to rub him up the wrong way.

What is perplexing here is the storm of outrage from the cast of thesps, literally fighting to register their disgust for the antics of the beleaguered film director, as if they had been handed divine revelation on a plastic plate plastered with the legend “Trump must go” Heading up this tribe is that right on political puritan Meryl Streep who never misses a chance to excoriate the American President for his attitudes towards women and is mightily pleased with herself for the stance she takes, especially when she is up for an award. But why now? Why has she not started in on Bill Clinton.

Harvey’s antics have hardly been a secret in Hollywood, they all knew what was going, and said nothing, so they have no business getting all fired up at this stage of the game, not so much as the stable door tardily bolted, more a case of a stampede to pillory hapless Harv.

Make no mistake, the man has brought all this on himself. Undoubtedly he has been encouraged to think he can do whatever he wants, nobody bothered to explain to the clown that every action carries consequences, first of which is his missus has done a runner, probably to a divorce lawyer and a shed load of alimony, after all this is LaLa land where every problem can be solved by a settlement.

We have been here before, most prominently the case of Fatty Arbuckle who was run out of town after killing a girl. OK he did not throttle the poor lass, his enormous weight caused him to crush the girl during the course of copulation Come to think of it Harvey carries a bit of a corporation, not that he has inadvertently crushed anyone while screwing them, not that I know about anyway. What has happened before will happen again, the spirit of Fatty Arbuckle still wafts amongst the mansions of Hollywood.

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