Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Chinese take-away
I’m glad to hear that the Chinese authorities have not disclosed the full name of the panty thief recently arrested in the city of Yulin. His family name is said to be Tang, but that shouldn’t reveal his identity. There are vastly more Tangs in China than women who’ve had their knickers stolen. Mr Tang’s guilty secret was discovered when a ceiling collapsed under the weight of his contraband, said to number in the thousands. Women living in his apartment building had been complaining about their disappearing underwear, so it was easy for the police to join the dots.
Preserving Mr Tang’s partial anonymity will make it easier for him to lead a normal life if and when he is cured of his fetish. At the relatively young age of 30, he should respond well to aversion therapy and a diet rich in insect protein. Sadly, job opportunities for ex panty thieves are limited, even in countries with a good record of rehabilitating offenders. I don’t know what his career plans are, but I think he’d be pretty safe to employ in my neighbourhood. There is very little underwear to steal in the jungle.
I’m going to mention Mr Tang’s case when I visit the safari camp on New Year’s Day. The manager’s wife is terrified that a new world war will start in 2015 because of the film about Kim Jong Un. She arrived at this conclusion after reading threats of dire revenge made by the North Korean regime, which the BBC foolishly published on its website:
“Making and releasing a movie on a plot to hurt our top-level leadership is the most blatant act of terrorism and war and will absolutely not be tolerated,” declared the regime’s official spokesmen. “If the US administration allows and defends the showing of the film, a merciless counter-measure will be taken,” he added.
I’ve already told the manager’s wife that the North Koreans can’t make war without China’s support, but she doesn’t believe that China will restrain them. I will cite the case of Mr Tang to demonstrate the growing maturity of the Chinese. In the dark days of Chairman Mao, knicker bandits were publicly humiliated and forced to eat their own toe jam. Economic modernisation has brought China to accept that ideological subversion is not the root cause of every strange act. They now realise that many of their citizens have mental problems, which has brought them closer to the West.
As for the film, it seems that North Korean attempts at cyber-blackmail have failed because crowds are queuing to watch it at independent cinemas. I fear that many of them will be disappointed. A movie isn’t guaranteed to be good just because it offends Kim Jong Un – otherwise you could make a fortune by filming a fat Korean oaf wallowing naked in pig excrement. Thus far, the critics are unimpressed and the rabble are unamused. The pudgy upstart of the peninsula might yet have his vengeance by making his enemies waste their time and money in crowded movie theatres.
Labels: China, film critics, Kim Jong Un, knickers, panty thief
Friday, March 23, 2012
Rotten tomatoes
My heart goes out to the movie director who had a mental breakdown after critics panned his latest film. The poor fellow was filmed outside his home in San Diego, slapping the ground and making obscene gestures at traffic. The fact that he did it in the nude suggests his behaviour was a cry for help rather than a declaration of aggressive intent. A man who goes on a naked rampage is usually drawing attention to himself rather than calling his enemies to account.
The police identified him as Jason Russell, aged 33. After concluding that he was harmless, they sent him to a hospital for treatment. I’m glad to say that his wife has remained loyal and steadfast throughout the ordeal:
“He did some irrational things brought on by extreme exhaustion and dehydration,” she explained. “Many of the attacks against the film were very personal and Jason took them very hard.”
Let’s hope her sympathy is genuine and she maintains her composure when her husband is discharged from hospital. The last thing Jason needs now is a sardonic spouse who makes satirical remarks while she’s nursing him. A man recovering from a temporary bout of insanity doesn’t want to be reminded that he made a colossal arse of himself whenever he asks for a glass of Lucozade.
The odd thing about this episode is that the film he made, about a Ugandan warlord, was a huge success. It quickly went viral after being released on the internet, which attracted the attention of occupational trolls who cruise cyberspace looking for victims to harass. Poor Jason must be unusually thin-skinned for a movie director. He should have told them to stick raw chillies up their butt-holes. That's what Alfred Hitchcock would have done.
Perhaps Jason would feel better if his film were screened at the Cannes festival. Although I haven’t seen it, I’d be amazed if it got a negative reaction there. Ugandan warlords are the dog’s bollocks for the arty-farty types who attend that event. The other good thing about Cannes is that no one would mind if Jason responded to criticism by performing a naked war dance. It would barely be perceived as eccentric in that part of the world.
Being an artist, of course, means having to endure the barbs of envious guttersnipes. I didn’t get too much of it in my circus career, possibly because my detractors were too scared to make rude remarks about a performer who could hang them upside down by their ankles if he felt inclined.
I have had a couple of blog trolls, though. One, who called himself ‘Anonymous27.5inchcock’, was actually a fellow blogger pretending to be a troll for his own amusement. He soon got bored of his caper and confessed his real identity. I forgave him. The other troll was a monomaniac who left 150 fatuous comments on another blog. Although he subsequently pretended to be a fan of The Japing Ape, I deleted his comments without mercy.
Labels: Cannes film festival, film critics, naked war dance, trolls
