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Shilpa Shetty and Richard Gere

I see they’re out burning effigies in India again. Shilpa Shetty, to be precise, which is great for me. Great for business. It’s wonderful to see such a high-profile figure being effigy-burnt. I must get onto my regional manager and instruct him to increase the output of Shilpa-effigies. Hire more child labour! I’ll bark at him.

They’re upset at Shilpa for being kissed by Richard Gere and to be honest it’s hard to blame them. After all, this is a man walking around with a ferret up his arse, or maybe it’s a wildebeest – I always get them confused. Anyway, India, as you know, is a land of very strict morals (apart from when they’re burning young brides, of course), and people there have traditionally frowned on men keeping any sort of animal up their arses.

It’s just not on! as one outraged Delhi resident explained. We don’t approve of any wildlife living in the bodily cavities.

When pressed, he went on to explain that the prohibition is total.

Yes yes yes, he said, it’s not just the ferret in the arsehole. We also disapprove of water buffalo, mongoose, meerkat, sheep, sparrow-hawk, tiger, crocodile, Brahmini duck, green turtle, Jade Goody, fruit bat and donkey.

Hmm, we nodded. Of course, Richard Gere would have had all of those species up his arse at some time in his life. Or even all together.

Exactly, shouted the outraged Delhi resident. The greatest shame any woman can bring on her family is to be kissed by a man with a multiple arse-menagerie.


Previous posts:

For a few rupees more

The Savage-Stupid Gene

Humour Politics

For a few rupees more

What’s with all this effigy-burning in the Indian sub-continent?

The last controversy I mentioned here was the Shilpa Shetty outcry in India which, you might remember, involved the famous Bollywood actress being verbally attacked by Jade Goody, a lard-monster. Well, on that occasion, there were villagers in the remotest mountain redoubts setting fire to effigies of everybody involved. Amazing.

And then, at the weekend, we saw the incredible spectacle of riots in the streets because Ireland beat Pakistan at cricket. Riots! Death-threats! More effigies!

Even more incredible is the fact that, wherever an effigy is burned, there you will find a Sky News tv crew. Isn’t it amazing how Sky is able to find out that a crowd of viillagers are about to burn an effigy, half way up the side of the Himalayas? What’s more, they’re able to find out weeks in advance because it’s no easy thing, I imagine, to get a tv crew up the side of a mountain.

Oh yes. Effigies and India. You can’t have one without the other.

I just had an idea, and it’s going to make us all rich.

I’m going to open a chain of effigy shops right across India and Pakistan. Forget the silly scarecrows you see on television. These effigies are going to of a high-class sort, yaar. Indeed. I’m going to offer the discerning effigy-burner such a range of choice that he won’t know where to turn.

What to protest next? he’ll be asking himself. All these possibilities.

I’ll start with your basic mannikin, suited to the villagers’ limited resources, but make no mistake: the quality will be the same right across the range. Your basic effigy will be anatomically correct, in case the villagers want to castrate it, or fuck it, depending on the direction their anger takes them. For a few rupees more, you can have a life-like latex mask and of course that opens up other possibilities. You might remember my idea for sex aids which continues to bring in vast quantities of money. Well, if you’re particularly enraged, you might opt for the embedded tongue-vibrator so that you can humiliate your new effigy before you set fire to it.

I mean, imagine forcing your George W Bush effigy to suck your dick before you set fire to him. If you really wanted a buzz, you could set fire to the effigy and then try to fuck it, but we’d have to print a disclaimer on the back of its neck. Fucking this dummy while on fire could lead to severe injuries. That kind of thing, you know, but these are mere details. What enraged villager would not want to have such a fine effigy?

Another step up involves implanting a voice-box so that your effigy can plead for mercy. Oh Jesus, no, not that, please, oh Jesus please not that nooooooooo! That kind of thing. It’ll cost a bit extra but it will be worth it. You can have any voice you want. Arnold Schwarzenegger. Mother Teresa. Bambi. Frodo Baggins. The Rolling Stones. Gandhi.

This is going to make us all so wealthy.

I’m preparing a special Spielberg effigy for the rich movie fuckers in Bombay. It’ll be fireproof so they can burn it over and over again every time he wins an Oscar.

kick it on


The savage-stupid gene

I don’t watch the Big Brother show, but it would be impossible to miss the controversy that’s going on at the moment over the behaviour of some participants. India is outraged at some comments which seem to be racist, though I didn’t hear them myself. People are burning effigies on the street. (By the way, what is it with India and effigies? I wonder if I opened a chain of effigy shops across India and Pakistan, would they be a success? I’d say they’d make a fortune for me).

I have to confess, to my embarrassment, I never heard of Shilpa Shetty until this evening. Shame on me. But even further shame on me for knowing who Jade Goody is.

There couldn’t be a greater contrast between two human beings. Shilpa is beautiful, gracious,well-mannered and educated. Jade is a fat, ignorant, foul-mouthed, illiterate thug.

The Big Brother organisation has brought the two together on one unreality tv show, and both are showing their true colours. Shilpa is reasonable, patient, conciliatory and courteous. Jade is loud, aggressive and stupid. Unfortunately, it seems that Jade and two other shaved apes have been doing their best to make Shilpa’s life miserable, and you can only presume it’s because, when they look at Shilpa, they see everything they themselves are not.

I’m getting very tired of this glorification of the underclass, I really am. Who? No, I’m not talking about the poor people. I’m referring to the know-nothing fools who shout their way through our day-to-day lives, spitting chewing gum on the footpaths, writing their stupid names on bus seats – Beyoncé luvs Wayne – leaving their beer tins in our doorways and their rubbish bags full of frozen-dinner-wrappers in our streets after dark for somebody else to take away because they’re too fucking lazy or too fucking stingy to pay or too fucking stupid. The gobshites in little Toyota fucking Starlets with a gigantic boom-box I can hear four blocks away, and an even bigger fucking exhaust pipe I can hear in the next county. That’s what I’m talking about. A bunch of useless empty-headed pricks swaggering around our towns, filthying everything they touch.

Jade Goody is just their representative on tv at the moment, but nevertheless is a good enough picture of what we’re dealing with. The Brits call them chavs, and over there they have it a bit worse than we do at the moment, though that too is changing. I think the reason is simple. In previous centuries, the Brits had a war every twenty years or so, and slaughtered these fuckers by the thousands, but lately two things have happened. They’re having fewer wars and they’ve started insisting that their soldiers should be able to read. This is obviously a disastrous policy, keeping all these stupid chavs out of harm’s way, when really they’ve been bred to walk into a hail of bullets. It’s all they know. As for our own home-grown chavs here in Ireland, I think they’re the descendants of the scum the Brits drafted into their armies in the good old days. I think they’re descended from the scum the Brits placed in garrison towns like Limerick and Cork and Athlone and Dublin. I think they were born with the savage-stupid gene: the ideal combination for the Khyber Pass, but not so great for the streets of your home town.

Anyway, Shilpa needn’t worry. These under-evolved fools are the real losers. In fact, they were born losers.