Thursday, January 12, 2006

 

When Chavs Attack! Revisited

Genial, flop-haired buffoon Boris Johnson's latest column gave me an odd feeling of deja-vu this afternoon. In it, he attacks Tony Blair's awful new 'respect agenda' - yes, the government are trying to force us to like each other through legislation - and in doing so, he points out the rather wimpish lyrics of certain musical artistes. Like James Blunt. And the Kaizer (sic) Chiefs.

Remember this? Yes, Boris has more or less exactly copied Brendan O'Neill's article for the Spectator (of which Boris was the editor) and put it in the Telegraph! For comparative purposes, let's look at the words of three writers, in the chronological order they entered the public domain:

O'Neill: "The Kaiser Chiefs — five young men from Leeds who sound a bit like Madness (though not nearly as good) — recently had a big hit with ‘I Predict A Riot’. Its lyrics could have been written by Tessa Jowell or one of the other New Labour apparatchiks who have been banging on for months about the problem of working-class youth getting drunk and disorderly . . . Those pesky ‘men in tracksuits’ (read drunken chavs), they’re always ruining nights out for nice middle-class kids. The Kaiser Chiefs’ view of city centres as a riot waiting to happen is pure New Labour."

Feelgood: "Did I slip, fall, and crack my head? I must have done, because I appear to have missed the time when it became cool to admit being too frightened to walk through an average town centre after dark . . . First off, insulting chavs is always the occupation of the professionally middle class, anyone who hates smoking and drinking and seeing people have a good time. Second of all, does anyone actually wear a tracksuit to go out drinking in? I have to say, no chav that I know has ever been seen out without a brand-name shirt. Thirdly, you deserve a battering for queue-jumping, one crime for which I would definitely welcome the return of capital punishment. Finally, if a bloke starts on you, and you can't fight back, for whatever reason, don't admit it afterwards, you pansy."

Johnson: "These are the weeds from Leeds whose hit single was I predict a riot, a tale about the bourgeois apprehension of a chap who tries to get a taxi on a Saturday night in the centre of town.

"Watching the people get lairy/It's not very pretty I tell thee./ Walking through town is quite scary/And not very sensible either," sing these epic softies. Then the chap meets another chap in a tracksuit, who looks as though he might offer violence, but doesn't, and that's about it. It's pathetic!

When I was a nipper it was standard practice for a rock star to start the evening by biting the head off a pigeon and throwing the television out of the window before electrocuting his girlfriend in the bath and almost drowning in a cocktail of whisky, heroin and his own vomit. The self-respecting British punk rockers didn't get up on stage and start whimpering about how they predicted a riot. They incited riots."


Well, they do say great minds think alike. I'm available for articles, by the way.

(via Matty G)

Comments:
Yes, but you must admit that "like being hosed in treacle" is a superb simile. Not a very pretty mental image, though.
 
There's a market for all sorts of perversions . . . you never know, could become popular!
 
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