The joy of being a product.


My son looked at a picture of Gordon Ramsay advertising Booths Gin and asked if it was a poster to show what alcohol does to you.

Nigella Lawson is turning into the Domestic Pig as far as the press are now concerned, and Mohammed is developing a great line in teddies that are currently madly travelling around the world on the ethers.

Becoming a product is a tricky business. Much easier to hide behind snappy names and strap lines, but there are things that need to be said and human beings that need to own those words. Passing the buck and saying that the kids chose it or the PR or the branding company is not enough. As a teacher and someone that has decided to stand up and be counted, how one stands up to be counted is all, and completely fraught with pitfalls, fatwahs and gaffs.

We, I say we because many people are involved in the process, are trying to name the cooking DVDs that we have made. Oh God, I wish I were Diamanda Galas and could scream very loudly.

So many dreams, needs, desires, longings and wants all packed into a title.

Otherwise joy reigns. The teacher has fled the scene of her misdemeanors, we continue to head towards living in a Muslim State here, (I saw a school girl this morning who looked just like she had stepped out of a 16th century painting, all enveloped in perfectly pleated white fabric over her head, long dress, pious shoes. Fab.) and every moment of our lives in the public spotlight of the media seems to be dominated by religion or celebrities. Interesting times.

And of course all this religious fervour turns each of its’ proponents into products, too. The cross muslim beard, the humble cowl, the Virgin mother, the fat slag masquerading as Mary Magdalen, the dominating turban. I think it would be very interesting to go back and see what Saint Augustin, Cromwell, Henry the Eighth, Mohammed, Adam and Jesus really did think we ought to all be doing and is it appropriate now? Does it really fit into the 21st century, where we all get a good go at living beyond 25, and marry another for decades rather than moments? The thrilling world of religious archetypes that is making us all products or victims (which is it? I cannot quite tell) of religious fervour.

All this blind obeiscance to prophets and avatars long dead is really tiresome. What if a spell were cast a no God could claim anyone’s thoughts. Imagine waking up and not looking in the mirror to compare, judge, denounce or fail.
Reality Dysmorphia Lives!