Wednesday, March 01, 2006

An ode to Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou - aka George Michael.

He is only 42 years old and in the middle of another balls-up. So, is George stepping up on to his soapbox in his own speaker’s corner with a message to read between the lines?

Spinning supposedly out of control, in a manner similar to that of Brian Harvey of East17 fame or Boy George in his New York apartment, this week the George Michael was found slumped over his car’s wheel. Rather than a public lavatory in Los Angeles, Hyde Park Corner was the scene for his latest public appearance. On the surface it seems that over the past several years, George is more and more amounting to little.

Man, I am a fan. Well, for the second half of his career anyway. Wham wasn’t for me – I wasn’t sure of those fluro t-shirts and magnificently groomed hair-pieces. But I am sure that his solo career was absolutely pure and simple ambrosia. Don’t you line him up to be stoned… I am confident that at least one of his 85 million records belonged to you at one stage.

Is his situation to lead once again to questioning from his public? My feeling on him being found comatose in his car at 2am is perhaps a sign of an individual who has little left. The Sun has claimed that sex toys were found in the boot of his car, which was parked at an amazingly dangerous angle to the curb and that strong alcohol could provide the dutch-pride, yet what are we to read into this?

The Times comments on the fact that perhaps his personal tragedies; the loss of his boyfriend Anselmo Feleppa to Aids and the death of his mother ten years ago to cancer, have taken his ambition away. Yet, is it sufficient reason to stick one’s head in the proverbial oven?

“It was my own stupid fault”, he said in a statement last night. Feeling a trifle embarrassed after spending a night in a police cell, photos showed George looking tired.

Back in 2001, ‘George from North London’ called in live to ITV1 to wish ‘all the best’ to the departing presenters Richard and Judy from This Morning. Might this week’s episode in Hyde Park have relevance as another attempt by George to comment indirectly to his public on his plight? “The only thing I care about is that people know that I was properly tested by a police doctor on Saturday night, who stated … that I was not impaired in any way and should be allowed to drive home”.

Why should George need to lie to his public? Is this a sign of prolonged indifference, put down… perhaps to the heart of his matter? Nothing to see here – move on people.

Let’s go outside
In the moonshine
Take me to the places that I love best

There’s nothing here but flesh and bone
there’s nothing more, nothing more
let’s go outside

When the moon is high
and the grass is jumpin’
come on, just keep on funkin’


At Saturday, 04 March, 2006, Blogger Damian said...

Oh man, I love your work. I was going to have a go at you this week about your dust-up in Media Week, but now I need to go and devote myself to outdoing your George Michael piece.

I'd forgotten his name was Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou. Sounds like he should be a shipping magnate, or running some sort of loudly coloured budget airline-cruise-hotel thingy. He'd be great in retail: cut price chemists and beauty shop called Easy Drug, or a sort of male focussed Ann Summers; you could call it Easy Boy!

At Monday, 06 March, 2006, Blogger Damien said...

Or George Michael - the outdoor specialist.


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