Bono, who is renowned for his messianic charisma and rumoured to heal the blind just with his touch, was criticised by Selassie for not involving grassroots African organisations and saying that such half-baked charity endeavours such as Live Aid are detrimental to the future of Africa.
Hecklerswag is an intermittent feature where we succumb to our inherent whorishness and briefly plug companies who send us stuff for free simply because they sent it to us…
The last time we went to the fancy dress, we did the lazy thing and went as James Bond. A pathetic sight, and an especially poor effort – not even a bow tie or replica PPK for company, much less a hot Bond Girl. We had Made No Effort.
By the time we arrived for the fancy dress shenanigans we were in a hell of a mess. A little bit of sick had come up. Tuxedos and sick, you see, are a far from classic combination. What we needed was something wipe-clean, like a bin liner, but with some kind of weird and menacingly distinctive fancy dress theme. That would prove that we had Made An Effort.
That's right, reader, we needed a DEVO SUIT.
Look at the picture. How cool is that? And it's a hands-down conversation starter, which is a pity given our general loathing for partypeople who attend fancy dress parties. The point is, you can buy it. It costs a mere $60 for you to look like one of Devo.
Naturally we've been saving up since July.
People of the world, we urge you to purchase the DEVO SUIT. The world would be a better place if everybody looked like this. We could form a club. Or stay in and wear it around the house. Annoy your flatmates. Watch that iron. Perfect for cyclists. Oil is no match for the DEVO SUIT, and it most likely prevents death and other illnesses too. Good for anybody near a log flume. Or on a bus. Or for doing uranium analysis and other boffin activities. Sick-resistant. Possibly not flame resistant.
The DEVO SUIT comes from the good people of 80stees.com, who also do groovy 80s retro Pac Man T-shirts and a supergeeky Oregon Trail T-shirt ('YOU HAVE DIED OF DYSENTERY' ).
Hecklerspray's inbox is constantly rammed full of the usual email requests from PRs, viral agencies, MySpace bands, game companies, movies publicists and irate Charlotte Church fans.
We have also received a slightly cryptic video from the folks managing the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics on the theme of PASSION, which has prompted us to list our particular passions. Well, at least the ones we can tell you about…
So, in no particular order, Hecklerspray's writers have suggested the following things we are passionate about…
It seems Justin Timberlake knows just how to treat a woman – whisk them off to a romantic location treat them to a slap up meal and spoil them rotten… or maybe just drag them to Manchester and take them to Nando’s as the case may be.
Timberlake is said to have flown new love interest Jessica Biel over the Atlantic to join him for dinner in his favourite British restaurant. Which, somewhat inexplicably, seems to be Nando’s. But this wasn’t to be a romantic date for two; Jessica Biel had to share Justin Timberlake with ten other men cramming peri-peri chicken and perinaise into their faces, all unaware that they were disrupting the greatest romance the world has ever known.
The new generation of games consoles are hovering over us like expectant wives. But unlike wives, these machines are designed for our entertainment pleasure and don’t care how often we tell them we love them.
With Microsoft and Sony both going for full, brute-force power with the Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3 respectively, it’s left cash-strapped Nintendo with only one path to go down: innovation. Or give up. OK, two paths to go down. Luckily, they chose the first.
Unfortunately, the company chose a rather pathetic name: the Wii. Blame the Japanese. You see, it’s their version of the word ‘we’ meaning ‘everyone’. It’s a console for everyone… Get it?
The Wii uses a new type of controller, packed with motion-sensitive technology, to immerse the player like never before. Never before in the home, that is. Arcades have been dabbling in this stuff for years.
The idea is pretty straight forward; you clutch the remote-control-like controller (Wiimote) like a tennis racket to play a tennis game, a bowling ball to bowl, etc. The Wiimote senses everything from how hard you swing it to where in relation to the TV it’s being held. Liken it, if you will, to magic.
British TV is entering that solace phase, where it sheds off old shows and wraps itself up in an extra thick layer of winter goggle-candy. Big Brother ends, Top Gear starts. Channel 4 pulls on its thermals in the shape of Skins, ITV gets ready to cover us in goosebumps with Supernatural and the BBC, well, it ploughs on with Casualty and the like.
We're pretty much non-plussed by the lot. Apart from a slight tear shed at Dirk ‘Starbuck’ Benedict missing out on his rightful second coming in the hearts of the UK public, British TV is offering nothing as sexy and as bloody brilliant as the US is.
Once again it’s down to 24 – the show that continues to rewrite rule books – to show us how exciting and gosh-darn thrilling a simple 45 minutes can be.
Incredibly old is the new young. Hecklerspray once met Muhammed Ali and he pretended to spar with us at a book signing. Although this may make you think “wow – you sparred with the greatest living sportsman on Earth,” the reality was a man with Parkinson’s making us feel slightly uncomfortable in a Guildford shopping centre.
However Ali in this state still would have kicked the living shit out of Stallone at 60. Rocky Balboa? Is anyone in this country actually going to watch this film? Let alone a film about Harrison Ford and Sean Connery (combined age: 46,923) hobbling around a dusty old temple complaining about their dodgy hips. That's Indiana Jones 4, if you hadn't already guessed.
Oh, come now, Rosie O'Donnell and Donald Trump. Must we fight? Rosie, are you not just a disturbingly coiffed, no-lipped business man at heart? And Donald, are you not just a brash, Krispy Kreme-loving lesbian underneath that designer lapel?
Unfortunately for all of us that have been rooting for these two kids to get together ever since the heaven-ordained reunion of Kid Rock and Pammy Anderson made us believe in love again, Rosie and The Don continue to metaphorically monkey-toss their excrement at one another (at least we pray it's metaphorical). This is turning out to be the biggest battle since Zach and Jessie both ran for class president on Saved By The Bell, especially now that Donald Trump has started writing letters.
The third of January, the calm before the storm. London almost seems dead quiet for a change. As we gently recover from all the joys of the festive season, a friend comes to town to visit, thankfully prising this writer off the couch and away from the post New Year’s eve comedown.
We're looking for something, small, fun, and random – to complete his day in the big smoke. The NME listings provide little inspiration, but then that ever-present thing called thelondonpaper actually saves our night. Who knew? We make a mental note to remember this serendipitous occasion after a name on the listings jumps out at our well-informed compadre. “Oh look, it’s Eats Tapes, that electro duo from San Fransisco!”
Raise your glasses 'cos the bitch is back.
You can't keep a good hellraiser down. According to reports, Sharon Osbourne turned up on set of The Sharon Osbourne Show drunk yesterday. Luckily Sharon Osbourne had a killer excuse for being so hopelessly drunk:
"I’m pissed, but it's my birthday."
That's right, yesterday was Sharon's 54th. We wonder if she got her alcohol from Asda.