HE TOUCHED THE HEARTS OF SIMPLETONS EVERYWHERE

Michael Jackson is dead, but his songs will always be with us. So will he, in fact: he's made of plastic.

Obviously I had grown out of that crap by the time I went to secondary school, but I know you simple folk used to like him, and I respect your simple tastes. Some of his early stuff was good.

Whatsa matter you? Hey!
Why you looka so sad? Hey!
Gotta no respecca...

That song helped me through a lot of difficult times, though I don't know if I would use the word genius.

No display of ass-hattery will be judged excessive in the coming days. If Blair himself read a prayer at Jackson's funeral then led the congregation in an embarrassing dance, I would hardly wince.

HUGH GRANT

With typically English understatement he hoofed a photographer in the testicles.



If it weren’t for that man the foreigners would have realised years ago how violent and uncouth the British are. We could reel their streets at noon, smashing up bars and vomiting into the fountains, but there was always Hugh Grant with his floppy haircut, making out that we’re a nation of weedy booksellers.

Now that even Hugh Grant is snarling and taking socks at people, perhaps the truth will dawn.

There are only two things in this world I hate: R n’ B singers, and the people who hide them.

These people are trying to claim that the British National Party (the B n’ P) want to ban R n’ B and replace it with Chas n’ Dave. The idea being, I suppose, that millions of Whitney Houston fans will Unite Against Fascism.

Now you is just the kinda girl to break my heart in two,
I knew right off when I first clapped my eyes on you,
But how was I to know you'd bend my earholes too?

You know who else liked Chas n’ Dave? Himmler.

Chas n’ Dave, Whitney Houston, Himmler, the BNP… it is hard to take these people seriously.