Tuesday, February 12, 2008
CITY BLAMED
“Much of present evil is New York-made,” writes Big Idiot Bob Ellis, who’s developed a late-life loathing of the Big Apple:
Heath Ledger at 28, Dylan Thomas at 39, died of drugs mis-prescribed by New York doctors; John Hargreaves at 50, Peter Allen at 48 of AIDS caught in New York’s bath-houses; Peter Finch at 60 of heart-strain making a New York film. John Lennon was shot dead there; Russell Crowe, booked and shamed for throwing a phone at a clerk, all but lost his stardom there.
What is it about New York?
It’s a big place, Bob. Things happen.
Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier put on their Romeo and Juliet there. It failed so badly they sat in the box office for two days giving customers their money back. Elia Kazan was arrested for having communist tendencies there and, grassing, lost most of his friends. Tennessee Williams inhaled a bottle-cap, choked and died there; Truman Capote gave up writing there, and died soused at 59.
What is it about New York?
I’m not sure Elia Kazan was ever arrested “for having communist tendencies”, but if he was, hey, way to go NYPD.
Marilyn Monroe learned the Method there, and such unwieldy pretension and such drug use she died at 36. Judy Garland frequently attempted suicide there, and died at 47.
What is it about New York?
Bob’s already running out of anti-NYC ammunition. Monroe died in Los Angeles; Garland in London. But this is mere filler, while bold Bob builds to one of those daring lines of his:
Mohamed Atta aimed a plane at a New York tower, and died at 32.
What is it about Bob Ellis? What manner of sociopath could reduce September 11 to an obituary for the mass killer who caused it? Perhaps Bob would be more moved by the deaths of Atta’s victims if among them were celebrities:
I would not have written this had Heath, whom I met once, and John Lennon, whom I met once, not died in New York, not died too young. Settled in Perth, or Liverpool, or London, or Melbourne, they would have survived to be 80.
Hey, Bob? Move to New York. Please.
‘I hate you, New York!’ Jack Lemon shouted in The Out-of-Towners. Me too. Me too.
That would be Jack Lemmon, dopey. Thank you, ABC, for spending our taxes on this and other pieces by Australia’s only ambulatory, speech-capable beermat.
(Via Adrian the cabbie, who notes that, as usual, Ellis’s piece is a goldmine for fact-checkers. Have at it.)
UPDATE. Bob hard at work with his Labor friend.