Is This a Burning Bush Before Me?

Is This a Burning Bush Before Me?

Let’s be real: true pop genius is scarcer than Louis Walsh’s hair follicles. And no, Gaga – a copy of a copy ad nauseum – doesn’t count; any privileged twat with business nous and third-party cash can social network herself to stardom.

 
THE OSCAR WILDE MYSTERIES BY GYLES BRANDRETH

THE OSCAR WILDE MYSTERIES BY GYLES BRANDRETH

Who needs Twitter troll psychopaths? When viciously abused, words are lethal weapons, so no wonder the pre—web phrase ‘poison pen letters’ arose!

 
DO THE CHARLESTON - CHEEK TO CHIC!

DO THE CHARLESTON – CHEEK TO CHIC!

Imagine England stripped of Sexual Royalty – AKA queens. A shocking prospect? Beyond doubt, but once, dear boys and girls, fabulous creatures of both sexes shivered in civil fright. Why, in the wake of Oscar Wilde’s 1895 criminal conviction, a climate of fear froze even the most blatant queens into deep, almost permanent, hibernation.

 
DAVID BOWIE IS

DAVID BOWIE IS

Now, many of today’s right-on revisionists claim Bowie as a Wilde-style gay martyr, but frankly, in the early 70s, everybody fucked anything that moved, in a pansexual frenzy of youthful hormones, and certainly not exclusively gay. If anything, he’s more tranny patron saint than butch or bitch. And please, never forget Bowie’s later gay denials. 

 
THE JUDAS KISS

THE JUDAS KISS

Rupert Everett as Oscar Wilde? Surely that’s duh-ream casting, darlings, don’t’cha think? If only! Yes, author David Hare superbly evokes two pivotal, Wildean life events - his imminent arrest at the Cadogan Hotel and his post-jail, brief reconciliation with Bosie in Naples – but the staging, guys, sucks worse than a failed lung transplant!

 
BOOK WEST END GIRLS

BOOK WEST END GIRLS

Hey guys, don’t ya just hate retrospective morality, the f*ckwit grafting of current, PC values to the past?

 
BARELY-THERE NAUGHTY-WEAR

BARELY-THERE NAUGHTY-WEAR

Guess what, boys - the poxy porn industry must be weeping in its grave! How cum?

 
KABARET

KABARET

Let’s get one thing straight, guys – Christopher Isherwood’s Berlin novels kick timid, heterosexual butt! Taut, shrewd studies of fascism and ethics debased by situationism, they’re literary gold, with the iconic, 1972 movie only slightly less so. So how come virtually every stage version sucks? Well, in two words, sweethearts, consummate evil, or rather, its absence!
 
CABARET FUTURA

CABARET FUTURA

Guess what, boys – there was a time when the very word ‘cabaret’ was spat with contempt, even at the height of Liza Minnelli mania! How come? Well, the movie, darlings, was released in 1972, only to encounter far more seductive competition – Ziggy (David Bowie) Stardust himself! Frankly, anyone under 40 puked at Liza’s back-dated bump ‘n’ grind, then exclusively seen as Judy Garland grandma garbage!

 
CRAZY HORSE PRESENTS 'FOREVER CRAZY'

CRAZY HORSE PRESENTS ‘FOREVER CRAZY’

What makes French eroticism so dick-throbbingly memorable? Well, the sheer style, darlings; French couplings – whatever genders take part –have none of the Viz Comics squalor that typifies chav-tastic British shags!