I remember his face. I was on the Boulevard St Michel...Buying some more Rolling Stones records, Gary?
… on a student demonstration. A posh-looking man sitting in a restaurant near the window looked up at the protestors and sneered. I'd seen that look before. I'd been studying in Paris for a few months by then. I'd seen it on the faces of the cops who had beaten me up in the metro and those who stopped and questioned me almost daily, or the landlords whose available flats disappeared when I showed up. It was a look that told me I didn't matter and couldn't do a thing about it.My, isn’t it amazing how some people can read so much into a look?
On the Boulevard St Michel a young black kid also saw the sneer, walked coolly up to the window, and kicked it in. And between the shards, the face of the man at the table contorted in fear as the thin film that separated him from chaos collapsed. The kid walked off laughing.
I can't tell you why he did it. You could not justify it strategically or morally. What I can tell you is, at that precise moment, given the few options available, it felt like an appropriate response.
Yes, it’s always appropriate to treat a supposed look of contempt with physical violence, I suppose.
So I guess we’ll not hear any squeals from Gary when the next cop gives some sneering, tooth-sucking gangsta-wannabe the back of his hand.
* With abject apologies to Peter Sarstedt
What an utter wanker. I apologise for being unable to provide a more detailed and thought out response. Does he have a large 'V' carved into his forehead? A large chip on a shoulder? Honestly, I suppose there is still much more of this tiresome crap to come.
Cringeworthy stuff AP and hard to believe - though there is something about the graffiti "because I'm worthless" gets to where this clot thinks he was going.
"* With abject apologies to Peter Sarstedt "
and rightly so, my Lovely.
Having now clicked the linky I remember why I don't read the Guardian and why I rely on Jools for salient clips of it and it's xenophobic counterpart.
Looking at the pic of Mr Younge on the Grauniad website it looks as if somebody has kicked his face in already.
Of course I could simply be exhibiting Eurocentric cultural bias.
So when the Guardian next sneers at the values that I and millions and millions of fellow citizens hold, I can go up to their offices and smash their windows?
Younge is another privately educated posh wanker pretending to be a radical.
Looks like not all guardian readers agree with him.
"Why should the police be obliged to "engage with supporters" of an armed crack dealer?"
838 'recommends', way more than any other.
Loved his seminal work in Diff'rent Strokes.
Say the catchphrase Gary.
SAY IT !
" .... A large chip on a shoulder" ?
Surely, a Frite ?
PS .. Have a look at the link, check-out the photo, have a squint at the photographer's name ..
See how he/she got a job, eh ?
I know some alternative lyrics to that Peter Sarstedt number (from the unofficial Royal Navy songbook) .. if you're interested, Julia .. ;)
You have to love it.
Gary Younge comes out with bilge like this and wonders why nobody wants him as a tenant.
Half-hippo Gary should have charged the window himself. Sure, he might have sustained serious lacerations to his bloated face. This could only be an improvement.
"...though there is something about the graffiti "because I'm worthless" gets to where this clot thinks he was going."
"and rightly so, my Lovely."
"So when the Guardian next sneers at the values that I and millions and millions of fellow citizens hold, I can go up to their offices and smash their windows?"
Seems you can, according to the male version of Penny Red!
"Looks like not all guardian readers agree with him."
There's been a lot of that recently.
"I know some alternative lyrics to that Peter Sarstedt number (from the unofficial Royal Navy songbook) .. if you're interested, Julia .. ;)"
"Half-hippo Gary should have charged the window himself. Sure, he might have sustained serious lacerations to his bloated face. This could only be an improvement."
Here you go Julia ...
WHERE DO YOU GO TO MY LOVELY?
You talk like Marlene Deitrich, You dance like Biffo the Bear,
Your clothes are all made by Bernards, *
And there's lice and there's puke in your hair,
And up your back, you know you're slack ....
CHORUS .. So where do you go to my lovely,
When you're alone in your pit ?
Tell me your thoughts that surround you,
When you're having a spine-shattering shit ...
You live in a fancy compartment,
In one of Her Majesty's Ships,
With Four Hundred and twenty young Fishheads,
Each one of them gets on yer tits, Yes they do ....
Your name it is heard in high places,
You know the Buffer ** quite well,
He gave you a Dildo for Christmas,
And you use it for ringing the bell,
Yes you do, Ding-a-ling ....
I remember the back streets of Malta,
The children begging in rags,
I remember you nicked all their money,
For a pint and a packet of fags,
Yes you did, half a quid ...
I know where you go to my lovely,
When you're alone in your pit,
I know the thoughts that surround you,
Cos I know that you're just full of SHIT.
* .. Messrs Bernard, a firm of Naval Tailors (sometimes called "Naval Gaolers"), with branches wherever the Royal Navy are based
** .. "Buffer" nickname for the Chief Boatswain's Mate, usually a Chief Petty Officer, or Petty Officer of long service & great experience. He is the right-hand man to the Commander or Executive Officer aboard a warship, in terms of work necessary for fighting efficiency & smartness ..
This & other similar songs would be performed for the Ship's entertainment at what was known as a "Sod's Opera" ..
Post a Comment