Archive for September, 2006

Radio 4 Today programme 29 September 06

Mark Borkowski discusses the impact new legislation on age and employment will have when it comes into force on Sunday.

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DROVE AT 186MPH .. AND I WAS NAKED
Mirror.co.uk – London,UK
… Edmonds’ agent Mark Borkowski last night said: “This happened 20 years ago when he woke up early one morning, stark naked and wanted to drive. …

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/tm_objectid=17840114& method=full&siteid=94762&headline=i-drove-at-186mph
—- and-i-was-naked–name_page.html
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Cherie Blair is alleged to have been overheard at yesterday’s Labour Party conference branding Gordon Brown a liar.

“…Downing Street went into overdrive to deny that [she] had so contemptuously dismissed the chancellor. Ironically, Mr Brown had been using his speech to effect a public reconciliation with the prime minister, saying he regretted their differences.” The Guardian, Tuesday, September 26.

So Brown wants to be leader?
Well the silly old bleeder
will have me to deal with as of now.

He’s a bore and a cheat
he can’t think on his feet –
I know how to bring sweat to his brow.

I’ll fight fire with fire
and call him a liar
in earshot of some journalist

An off the cuff remark
with as much bite as bark
should have him back in the dark getting pissed

He’s a shark, he’s a traitor
and if he thinks he’ll be greater
than Tony, well bloody well tough

and if he fights back
I’ll redouble my attack
he’ll tumble quite soon if I’m rough.

I’d rather see Tories in Number 10 –
at least we’d have something to fight for again –
than let Gordon Brown into power

He’s a Brutus, a lightweight
a backstabbing ingrate
and I’m not afraid of his glower.

Cherie Blair's Manifesto Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

A conference season fantasy about the Bristolian graffiti artist from the Borkowski poet in residence, whose will to live has been worn to breaking point whilst watching the political shenanigans and posturing from Brighton and Manchester.

If Banksy were Prime Minister
and policy ran on stunts
that were cleverer than baby kissing
and opening up new fronts

in an endless war on terror
to keep the people afraid
and only voting for the men
who started the crusade

the world would be a happier place,
happier and more surreal.
The proverbial elephant in the room
would suddenly become real.

Painted in the brightest red
like a loud wallpaper design,
it would trample wrath, like grapes,
into a vintage wine

and trumpet out new policy
as it ploughed a fresh political field.
Isn’t it time to see what crop
such ballyhoo might yield?

Political speeches could be sprayed
on the walls of every street
and voters could tag responses
in a torrent, in a sleet,

turning the political process
into an actual art.
Such democracy might lack substance
but it would at least have heart.

Banksy would bring to politics
a better class of spin.
He’d be on the streets and active,
not in Whitehall sipping gin.

and although a PM whose identity
is kept secret at all times
would unnerve the general populace,
he’d at least avoid the crimes

of personality politics
and stolid under-achieving.
Politics should be faceless,
should be about giving, not receiving.

If Banksy were Prime Minister,
even conference would be fun.
There’d be no MPs looking
to plant a smoking gun

or bickering interminably
about what the country wants –
all the delegates would be learning that
by staying in graffiti artist’s haunts.

It’s doubtful Banksy’d take the job –
it involves too much compromise –
but it doesn’t hurt to wish he would
and gently fantasise

about a world where Gordon Brown
could dethrone Mr. Blair
with just a spray can and a stencil
of Tony dressed as Yogi Bear.

A world where palaces house the homeless
and policemen all wear pink,
where bombs are filled with flour
and tanks learn how to think,

where empty promises are stuffed
with miles and miles of tissue
and celebrities are forced out of doors
to sell copies of the Big Issue,

where freedom is unlimited,
and everyone plays their part
while the whole of the old guard blanches
then departs quickly in a cart.

If Banksy Were Prime Minister Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

“There is no single hurdle ahead for Sir Menzies to jump, just a long slog to clarify and refine what he is aiming for. Yesterday’s speech [at the Liberal Democrat conference] saw him move forward and he will be pleased enough with that.” Editorial, The Guardian, Friday, September 22nd 2006.

Sir Ming the merciful, lord of some things he surveys
has seen off Flash Charlie and his hard-drinking ways.
He may have promised salvation
with a quick cut in taxation
but his legacy’s dampened by the heaps of faint praise.

Sir Ming the merciful, the play-it-safe boss
of New Liberal Democracy, won’t make anyone cross.
If they’d hoped for a tyrant
or someone vaguely aspirant
they’d have stuck with Flash Charlie, despite his love of the sauce.

Sir Ming the merciful runs an empire of dust
and both Brown and Cameron will pick off the rust.
He’s recharged the Lib Dem battery
but it’ll take more than vague flattery
to give three party politics some much-needed thrust.

Sir Ming the Merciful Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

To promote the Westbeau Ranch in Washington State in the 50’s, Jim Moran came up with an idea that thrilled newspaper readers and their families. Moran used a well known actress Lolly Allen (no relation to the stroppy young songstress Lily Allen!) to pose for photographs with Little Tyke, a tame lion.

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Katie Holmes is reportedly having doubts about marrying Tom Cruise. She allegedly told a visitor to the isolated Colorado retreat where she has been staying with Suri and Tom’s family: “I don’t have my own life any more. I’m not comfortable.”

The excitement’s worn off
and all through the house
nothing is stirring,
not even the scientologist mouse.
The couch has stopped creaking,
it’s not been jumped on in days
and Suri’s stopped crying
since her publicity blaze.
“She takes after her father,”
whispers Katie, quite glum,
“but at least she only sucks
her cute little thumb
and makes the natural demands
you’d expect from a child –
wanting milk and a cuddle
won’t leave you reviled
by media and moguls
or have the world at your throat.”
Unlike her fiancé
who seems to promote
religion before movies –
a quite hideous sin
in the eyes of an industry
that thrives upon spin.

The excitement’s worn off
and all through the house
nothing is stirring,
not even the scientologist mouse.
He’s gone off to search for
a brand new career
since Paramount brutally
put him out on his ear.
In Colorado quiet
Katie’s had time to reflect –
with Tom’s star descending
why should she genuflect
to his whims, his religion,
his furniture athletics
or even his refusal
to let her have anaesthetics.
If ego’s genetic
and another baby is due
she might well need them
to push it’s head through.
And then there’s the money
Mr Cruise won’t be earning –
a lot of good reasons
why Tom’s ripe for spurning…

THE SCIENTOLOGIST MOUSE’S FIANCEE HAS SECOND THOUGHTS Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Following Jim Moran’s success with the National West Virginia Axe Company, he was quickly employed a few months later by a little known Texas Saw Company.

Moran employed oarsmen from two competing rowing teams who came all the way from Washington for a cleverly devised photo opportunity. Using huge saws from the saw company, the oarsmen sawed through massive tree trunks that had been felled earlier in the day in an attempt to show how sharp and easy to use the saws were, whilst also proving to be a great way to “work out” for the oarsmen.

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Steve Irwin fans have allegedly been have been killing stingrays in a series of revenge attacks for his death.

This week we shall be taking revenge on baths
for removing Jim Morrison from us in his prime
we have the mallets and the sacks we’ll need
it may be late in the day
for such acts of vengeance
but justice never sleeps.

Last week it was trees and minis.
We smashed them all, every single one that we could find
and made sculptures commemorating Marc Bolan,
all of them in the shape of dinosaurs –
the biggest of all was a T Rex, obviously.
It glints in the sun over Barnes, menacing and wonderful
a 100 foot high commemoration to a great singer.
I still see its steering wheel eyes
winking at me when I dream.

We have plans to dry up all the rivers
we can get our hands on
because of what they did to Jeff Buckley.
Those bloody rivers have it coming, I tell you.
No more drownings!
Do it properly and we can take out every lake as well
which should appease the ghosts of Shelley and Otis Redding.
All these wonderful people should not be allowed to die.

Some of us had wanted to seek justice
for the memories of John Belushi, Jimi Hendrix,
River Phoenix, Janis Joplin –
anyone who died from an excess of drink or drugs.
There was dissention in the ranks;
someone said the only way to do so
would be to dig up their bones and jump on them
that they did it to themselves.
We eased our shame at not being able to help
by deciding to destroy X ray units in hospitals instead.
You can rest easy now, Marie Curie

Our manifesto is simple
celebrities are wonderful and must be protected
We’ve destroyed all stairs
because of what happened to Laura Ashley,
all aeroplanes to avenge the deaths
of the Big Bopper, Buddy Holly, Patsy Cline.
Swimming pools no longer exist –
Brian Jones, I hope your ghost is happy.
If we are successful in our mission,
there will eventually be nothing left
to harm celebrities, except themselves.
What we’ll do then I do not know…

The Celebrity Death Revenge Club Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Why I love Banksy

Banksy is a shining example to all PRs who understands that the media is his canvas to use as he sees fit to connect with a global audience.

http://media.guardian.co.uk/marketingandpr/comment/0,,1873225,00.html
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