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October 2014

All hail the great Kanye!

We’ve all heard the stories of the gigantic “Do you know who I am??” over-inflated ego’s of the world’s rich and famous. The outrageous rock star demands: “Our dressing room must be stocked with: Four 78 year-old virgins, at least two barrels of Himalayan yak urine, 24 hr. servings of mum’s home-made mac-cheese, an ostrich in a pear tree, the windows should all be blacked out and welded closed (we’re vampires y’see) and all the support staff should be dressed as French maids”, etc. The arrogance is mind-boggling. What’s more amazing is that “service providers” – supporting artists, managers, stadium owners, city mayors, the press, etc. all seem to regard this aberrant behaviour as not only entirely normal (and even de rigeur), but wholly expected and cheerfully go along with this patent lunacy.

The simple fact that four pre-pubescent, pimply-faced twerps with more zits than brain cells can demand (and get) a smorgasbord of entirely bonkers stuff and then go on to get a host of (outwardly) sane people to happily go along with virtually any arrogant demand, based merely on the fact that they have sold a gazillion records to hordes of mindless sheep across the planet is stupefying. It’s all about money. And money is power. And absolute power corrupts absolutely. Just ask the (arguably) current king of arrogance – Kanye West. Aka, his royal rapperness, the eternally sullen and pouting husband of the proud possessor of one of the biggest *sses in showbiz (Ms. Kim “I don’t know why I’m famous, but I am *sigh*” Kardashian/West. The arrogance on this prize pillock is enough to stun an ox. But not nearly as stunning as the mindless stupidity of thousands of “fans” who, having created this jackass, now happily agree to (and pay! big bucks!) pander to his ever more outrageous utterances and insufferable behaviour.

At a recent concert in Sydney, West (who once confessed that his greatest regret was that he would never be able to see himself perform live) (eish) told a capacity herd of sheep (aka paying customers) “I can’t do this show until everybody stands up. Unless you got a handicap pass and you get special parking and s**t.” He then waited for everybody to get on their feet, warning them that he would be able to spot anyone sitting down. “I’m a see you if you ain’t standin’ up, believe me, I’m very good at that,” he said. Sod’s law, Kanye the schmuck saw two people who indeed had not stood up. In a display of dazzling arrogance, he refused to sing his next “song” until they had stood. The sheep, of course, thoroughly cowed by this cock-a-hoop clown, to their eternal shame, then began to chant “Get Up! Get Up!”. After having (unbelievably) dispatched his bodyguard to check on the two “renegades”, it turned out that one had a prosthetic limb and the other was confined to a wheelchair.

Satisfied and without even the merest hint of embarrassment, this stellar example of prime arrogance huffed: “This is the longest I’ve had to wait to do a song, its’ unbelievable!” And the “fans” love it. It would seem that they, as well as the legions of others who abase themselves to the “legends” of showbiz on a regular basis, can’t get enough abuse. Me? I dunno… Seems to me that if someone kicked me in the chops then demanded a thousand bucks from me before he would grace me with a fat lip, they would need every bit of medical aid they could muster… But, hey… That’s just me, Mr. Abnormal.

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