We hear today that the Oscars are going ahead even if there is a war.
Oh, brilliant! Oh, wonderful!
We are so glad the Oscars are going ahead. What an example to the world.
Aren’t those actors and actresses soooooooooo brave. Just like in the movies!
Imagine: in a time of war they are going to get out of bed and dress themselves in their best tinsel, and even while Iraqi babies are dying in their thousands, Hollywood’s glitterati is going to be shaking its pretty collective touche for the cameras.
Ooops! That one was close! Only eight thousand miles away! Lucky all the trophies are wearing kevlar vests and DU helmets this year.
And the spectacle: you can’t beat it for taking your mind off the screams of the suffering and distracting you from the brazen lies of Bush and Blair and their crew.
And there they go, while those cowardly Iraqi children quake in their bombshelters, the stars will heroically go unflichingly into the lights. Yikes, there’s a dirty bomb that failed to materialise in Los Angeles, bombs are not falling on the ceremony, and sarin and VX are simply failing to be.
And when Iraq is a smoking wreck, they will make loads of films about how the most technologically advanced, most rapacious army in history was victimised by those nasty foreigners, just like they did after Vietnam and Mogadishu.
By chris page
Magazine editor, writer of fiction and non-fiction; exile; cat person; red wine for blood and cheese in his soul. Chris Page is the author of the novels Weed, Sanctioned, Another Perfect Day in ****ing Paradise, King of the Undies World, and The Underpants Tree. He is also a freelance journalist, copywriter, editor, cartoonist, illustrator, graphic designer, and consultant in the use and abuse of false moustaches (don’t wear them — you’re welcome — the invoice is in the mail).