Thursday, 6 March 2008


“Lindsay Lohan”.

With Machiavellian stealth, insidious cunning and enviously artful guile, the name “Lindsay Lohan” did insinuate itself into my consciousness through gradual, barely noticeable steps by almost military-precision tactical maneuvering under the deepest cover of black, inky darkness ...

Who is this person? ... Should I know of her? ... Should I familiarise myself with
her good works? ...

Hmmmmm ...

I have not seen
“The Parent Trap” ... “Freaky Friday”? ... Not that I can remember ... “Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen”? ... Nup ... “Mean Girls”? YES! ... “Herbie Fully Loaded”? ... Nup ... “A Prairie Home Companion”? YES! That’s 2! ... “Just My Luck”? ... never heard of it ... “Bobby”? Woo-hoo! That’s 3! ... “Chapter 27”, “Georgia Rule” and “I Know Who Killed Me”? ... Nup, nup, nup.

I see. And for this Ms. Lohan is famous? Well, not really. She is, instead, famous for the following ...

1. She’s young.
2. She’s not bad-looking.
3. She likes to go to parties.
4. She drinks.
5. She takes drugs sometimes. Or, perhaps,
a lot.
6. She likes rooting boys.
7. Her
father’s a fuckwit.

Well, bugger me if that don’t beat all.

In this new dawn of pseudo-puritanical posturing, poncing about and one-size-fits-all hysterics from every half-assed hack and creative typist in the media who think it fit to provide a running commentary on the “life and times” of any starlet with a half-decent pair of tits who’s been seen looking a little blurry-eyed in a nightclub more than once, the continuous fuss over Lohan is up there with the best of it.

Now, I could not give a particular flying wombat’s bottled fart about Lindsay Lohan and this is by no means a defense on her behalf, as such a thing would be ridiculous to embark upon. But, at 22 years of age, most young women (and young men) who aren’t half bad-looking are out at parties; drinking a lot; taking drugs at times; and rooting like rabbits.

This is what people do when they are young enough to do it, and good luck to those who are.

Grace Kelly bedded pretty much every leading man she starred with. Ava Gardner had a mouth like a toilet and was extremely fond of Frank Sinatra’s cock. Lauren Bacall held her own with the Rat Pack, swigging it back with the best of them.

But, we are now in the time of
“Juno”, a feel-good film about unplanned teenage pregnancy, for Christ’s sake. And “Knocked Up”, a feel-good film about unplanned adult pregnancy resulting from a one-night grapple with a silly fat dickhead. Which means, as Joe Queenan wrote in The Guardian, that we are in a time “... leading to a future so dark that women will look back on the decade that brought them The Runaway Bride, Notting Hill, My Best Friend's Wedding and My Big Fat Greek Wedding as a golden age.”

Thus, Lohan’s behaviour is an offense to the noble minders of the media whose job it is now to cast a squinty eye, point the finger, and purse their mouths disapprovingly over the exuberances of impetuous youth, judge them lacking in the appropriate standards of “morality” and “values” that are forever being tediously clucked about by the broody hens and chickens that increasingly stalk the halls of political and religious office, opinionists and “entertainment” reporters, and, finding their subjects lacking in these lofty ideals of
Walton’s Mountain fantasia, cast them out, if not to send them back to their rooms without supper, then at least to demand they take a quick trip to rehab, repent, recant, and then devote the rest of their lives to be the natural successors to Mother fucking Teresa ...

(Fuck me dead, that sentence has 133 words in it. I really need to watch that.)

... What a brave and curious joy it would be to see a film about a woman who drinks, smokes, roots boys, gets knocked up, terminates the pregnancy and then goes on to win a million bucks and a Nobel Prize for curing cancer and live happily ever after by the seaside.

Nobel Prize notwithstanding, I reckon Lohan would be a shoo-in for the lead.

From 1978, Japan "Adolescent Sex"

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