The Malignant Narcissist

"Look how GREAT I am!"

It’s that time of the year when I take a close look at the world of celebrity. As a rule, I hate the Cult of Celebrity but I am deeply fascinated by it – mainly because I don’t understand it. However, roughly this time every year, I watch a TV programme that lists the most shocking celebrity moments from the previous year.

I do this for two reasons.

First of all, I love it when certain arseholes make complete fools of themselves in public and show their true colours to the world. I realise this is a bad thing, and I sometimes wish that I were more understanding but ultimately the truth is that most of these villains in the world of celebrity are so self-obsessed that they actually deserve the wrath of their fans for their terrible behaviour.

Second, there are certain celebrities who actually have no talent whatsoever yet are totally obsessed with appearing on every form of media available, from your television set to the tabloid press via social media. I don’t know who half of these people are and frankly I don’t care. However, I like to know who people are talking about when they mention these people – just so that I don’t look like an archaic old git when people ask me about them.

To me, a true celebrity is somebody who is very talented at what they do and humble enough to accept fame and its consequences while at the same time recognising the people who put them on the pedestal in the first place – their fans.

The rest are basically malignant narcissists, i.e. self-obsessed fools who care nothing for their fans and are only interested in one thing – themselves.

The other day, on my daily walk, a song popped up on my iPod that summed up malignant narcissism perfectly. It was Earth Song by Michael Jackson. The truth is that I actually like the song because it is a well written pop tune with a useful message.

However, if you have seen the video then you begin to see where Michael Jackson’s self-obsession is totally evident. He portrays himself as a lone figure walking sadly in a scorched world. It’s difficult to tell whether the emotion in his voice is because of the damage done to Earth or whether he is so sad because he no longer has any fans to love him. As the video progresses you see forests being destroyed, factories spewing out pollution, elephants being killed for ivory, towns and villages being destroyed in war and people crying and falling to their knees in despair.

“Good old Michael,” you say. “The message is strong – he cares for our planet.”

And then the video becomes something else.  As Michael gets upset and starts pouring his heart out, suddenly the world fights back. As he screams and sings in anger in a raging wind, all of the terrible things we have done are reversed; fallen trees suddenly rise up again, soldiers retreat as villages are restored, people shot in war come back to life, factories suck in the polluting smoke, stolen ivory from dead elephants grows back and the elephants are resurrected.

And Michael the Messiah whoops in joy as if he is somehow responsible for this reversal of fortune.

Here is the video if you haven’t seen it.

You may think I’m being harsh on Michael Jackson but my viewpoint was confirmed when he performed the song at the Brit awards in 1996, surrounding himself by adoring children, holding his hand like some kind of saviour as the stage was filled with worshippers, before shedding his black tatty clothes to reveal a sparkling white suit with his arms outstretched and being revered as if he were the reincarnation of Jesus himself.

The incident was famous because Jarvis Cocker the lead singer of Pulp who, alongside a few others, found Jackson’s act distasteful, and decided to invade the stage and show his feelings innocently enough, by bending over and flapping his backside as if he had just farted.

Jackson was hurt because somebody had mocked his brilliance and a lot of people in the UK loved Jarvis Cocker for what he did. Jackson’s reaction was one of pain and he poured his heart out about how humiliated, hurt and upset he was that somebody had dared to intervene in his wonderful performance.

Ultimately Michael Jackson was just one example of malignant narcissism and when you see the antics of some of the other celebrities you can see many more.

So what is a malignant narcissist? Basically it is somebody who is so self-obsessed that they consider themselves to be the centre of the known universe and if anybody disagrees then they will willingly lash out and attempt to destroy them with absolutely no remorse. Even jokes at the expense of a malignant narcissist are taboo.

Prime examples are Mariah Carey, Madonna, Kanye West, Kim Kardashian and Justin Bieber. There are many more.

 Kanye West for example, thinks nothing of taking attention from a winner at an award ceremony because he disagreed with the result.

Of course the biggest and best example of malignant narcissism in the world at the moment is Donald Trump, a man who is so self-obsessed that he actually lives in a fantasy land about how great he is. Reports suggest that he will dismiss anything that comes across his desk unless it mentions him by name or shows him in a great light. He has invented lies to make everyone believe that “the Donald” is the greatest human being that exists at the moment. 

He dismisses anything that criticises him as fake news, even when his lies are exposed. He attempts to ruin anybody who speaks out against him and constantly lies to make himself appear to be the greatest living human being.

You just have to read his tweets and listen to his spoken words.

Trump will support people until they speak out against him, when he will either sack them or say extremely nasty things to twist the truth of the matter.

Here are some examples:

“Actually, throughout my life, my two greatest assets have been mental stability and being, like, really smart. I would qualify as not smart, but genius ... and a very stable genius at that!”

“Nobody’s ever been more successful than me.”

“No one reads the Bible more than me.”

“Nobody knows banking better than I do.”

There is so much evidence to prove his words wrong but he simply dismisses it as fake. Anybody who dares to show him in a bad light is savaged. He builds himself up and tears down those who oppose him:

“Meryl Streep [is] one of the most over-rated actresses in Hollywood." - The fact that Meryl Streep is probably the most successful actress of our generation seems to have escaped him. How many Oscar nominations, Oscars, Golden Globes etc. has she won Donald?

“[He’s a] totally overrated clown who speaks without knowing facts.” - Note - Trump wasn't talking about himself.

“If Hillary Clinton can’t satisfy her husband what makes her think she can satisfy America?”

“Ariana Huffington is unattractive, both inside and out. I fully understand why her former husband left her for a man – he made a good decision.”

“If I were running ‘The View’, I’d fire Rosie O’Donnell. I mean, I’d look at her right in that fat, ugly face of hers, I’d say ‘Rosie, you’re fired.’”

I apologise again for mentioning Donald Trump but in this case, it illustrates the points I am making about malignant narcissism.

Thankfully, the majority of people recognise such people and speak out against them.  As long as there are celebrities, there will be malignant narcissists.

I am so glad that I haven’t met one personally yet.

I Wanna Live Forever

I have stopped trying to give up ranting as a New Year’s resolution because usually, within a day, I have exploded when confronted with the fallout from the Cult of Celebrity from the previous year.

I have just watched Most Shocking Celebrity Moments as I always do at the end of each year. You may ask me why I torture myself with this banal nonsense. I do so, simply to educate myself when my peers, and others who are stupidly obsessed with celebrity, start a conversation about their bizarre antics. I have been chastised in the past for being oblivious to people like Kim Kardashian, Cheryl Fernandinho-Vermicelli and Miley Billy-Ray Cyrus and in order to at least appear to feign interest, I research the antics of these show-offs by struggling through a televisual experience, with the aid of my soapbox, that highlights how deep they will plummet into depravity to maintain their status as newsworthy icons.

Kim Kardashian? No - this is Kym Cardassian

I know you can’t wait to hear what I have learned from last year’s Hall of Shame. I shall begin.

The first thing I discovered was that there is such a thing as a "professional reality star”. These are people who degrade themselves on national television in a variety of bizarre and humiliating ways in order to expose themselves to sad fans who love to watch car crash television.

Shows like I’m A Celebrity … Get Me Out Of Here, Big Brother, Celebrity Big Brother, Geordie Shore and Keeping Up With The Kardashians are full of these self-important and talentless show-offs whose only purpose in life seems to be is to expose everything about themselves to their baying audience.

These people have no talent, only the balls to make themselves look like the idiots they are. Yes, I know that they are paid a lot of money for doing this but I would not want to show my true self to a thick audience of punters who will watch them spread their vile vitriol all over social media sites like Twitter.

Some people will do anything to get into the news, either celebrity or otherwise.

Who are these people?

Katie Hopkins is one such celebrity wannabe who, in order to annoy religious types, this year declared herself to be “The new Jesus”. Is she that desperate for publicity? She’s not original (John Lennon said something similar years ago). Personally, I was more irritated by her referring to refugees as “plague of cockroaches” and advocating using gunships to send them back where they came from. I hope that in 2016 you get your comeuppance, little Miss Nasty.

Others include the Kardashians, who miraculously have somehow wormed their way into the hearts of an audience of people who I thought had some intelligence. I learned that Bruce Jenner, a former gold medal Olympian, married the widow of Robert Kardashian, the father of the Kardashian women, and has now become a woman called Caitlyn in the second most shocking moment of 2015.

I don’t care!

If he wants to be a woman that’s up to him. What I don’t understand is why anybody else outside the Kardashian family would even consider this to be a newsworthy item.

Another thing I learned was that some so-called A-List celebrities consider themselves to be far more important than anybody else. In their minds, they are gods and we, the plebs, are meant to worship them. Now I like the character Iron Man and I love Robert Downey Jr’s portrayal of his eccentric alter-ego, Tony Stark. Yet when he was interviewed by a Channel 4 news reporter called Krishnan Guru-Murthy about the latest Avengers film, there were rules about the questions that could be asked. Of course, being a news reporter, Krishnan Guru-Murthy deviated from the rules and started asking more personal questions about the actor’s rather controversial past and, like a diva, Robert Downey Jr. stormed out and later referred to the reporter as a “syphilitic parasite”.

I also learned that Mariah Carey has entered the world of online dating, presumably because she cannot find a man who will surrender to her diva demands. Whether or not the myths about her are true or not, I can’t imagine any sane man wanting to enter a relationship with her.

Here are a couple of the most outrageous demands she is alleged to have made:

• She wanted eleven bodyguards to surround her table in a restaurant so that the plebs could not see her eating.
• She only drinks soft drinks through a straw, the glass having to be held by one of her minions.
• She rented every single penthouse in a luxury London hotel “for privacy” and demanded a red carpet lined with white candles so that she could make a dramatic arrival.

I wouldn’t mind – her music is absolutely shockingly bad and she has done nothing to deserve such wanton acts of greed and egomania.

Talking of egomania, the next diva is one of my favourite persons of ridicule, Mr Kanye West who, this year at Glastonbury, declared himself to be “the greatest living rock star on the planet” having just absolutely murdered Bohemian Rhapsody. Worse, at a later event, he declared that he is going to run for President of the United States in 2020. I have to say, this man has either got balls of steel of is genuinely deluded and should seek help.

In other lowlights of 2015, there were a couple of high profile separations and divorces, most notably Ben Affleck who allegedly left Jennifer Garner for a babysitter and Gwen Stefani whose husband, coincidentally, left her for a babysitter.

This is one of the main reasons I would not want to be famous. If you seek fame and fortune you have to sacrifice your privacy and, in my opinion, your love life. If you think about how long the average celebrity marriage lasts, you would never want to enter into such a relationship. I may mock Mariah Carey’s diva attitude but the truth is that I feel sorry for her, as I do any famous person whose life is there for public scrutiny. It’s like a double-edged sword. You have the adoration of your fans (no matter how sad some of them are) but the moment you make a fool of yourself in public or your life starts to fall apart, then your downfall is plastered over all the rags all over the world for all to enjoy.

Have people really enjoyed watching Charlie Sheen self-destruct over the years? Are they happy now that he has admitted being HIV positive? What about all the speculation about Cheryl Ferdinand-Vavavoom and her body size? If she is losing weight because of stress, what do you think seeing terrible stories written in tabloid media are going to do for that stress?

The poor woman cannot win.

Such a lifestyle stinks. If I were famous, I would be a recluse – which kind of defeats the object really.

I wouldn’t even want to be a politician. David Cameron was in hot water because, allegedly, he did something disgusting in his youth, as an initiation to become a member of a posh Oxford Dining Club, involving an intimate part of his anatomy and a dead pig’s head. If you want more information, please watch the following video (it’s a bit rude so reader discretion is advised):

Worse, in my view, were the words of Donald Trump, a man who wants to be President of the United States of America. He wasn’t mentioned in the shocking moments programme but some of the outrageous claims and promises he is making scare me to death.

Please, please, please don’t give this man any power.

And if he stands, please, please, please don't give Kanye West any power.

Anyway, enough negativity.

Some celebrities have shone this year. The first I would like to mention is Barry Manilow. Okay, he has made an arse of himself over the years with plastic surgery, but this year he got married – to a man! After all this time, and presumably to the horror of every Fanilow, he has admitted his sexuality.

Good for him!

The other celebrity who continues to prove that he is the nicest guy in rock is Dave Grohl. Madonna was the most shocking moment according to the TV programme because she was dragged off stage at the Brit Awards.

People praised Madonna for continuing but Dave Grohl surpassed that. He fell off the stage in Sweden and broke his leg. However, instead of cancelling the show, his band mates in the Foo Fighters carried on playing cover versions until Dave Grohl returned, his leg now in plaster and apparently in a lot of pain, to finish the concert.

That’s not all. Over a thousand people in the city of Cesena in Italy recorded a version of Learn To Fly in an attempt to persuade the Foo Fighters to play a concert there:

Dave replied in Italian and promised to visit and play a gig:

And he made good his promise (complete with broken leg) – excuse the rather fruity language:

Now that’s what I call celebrity, not despicable diva behaviour, nasty controversial vitriol or professional humiliation.

Anybody who wants fame for the right reasons, look at the example of somebody like Dave Grohl, not the egomania of Mariah Carey and Kanye West or the nastiness of Katie Hopkins and scary rhetoric of wannabe politicians like Donald Trump.

Unanswered Questions

When I think about things seriously, I mean really start to think, my brain begins to hurt with pain and despair at the state of the human race.

That’s why I try not to think too deeply.

Well – apart from yesterday when something prompted me to rant again.

When I rant, my addled brain spits forth questions about the unfairness and stupidity of life. And these are questions that I simply cannot answer.  Here are some examples.

Why would anybody pay £220,000 for a bottle of brandy? 

Yes – that’s right. A restaurant/bar in Manchester has one for sale.

Why would anybody pay £1600 for a six litre bottle of vodka with a light at the bottom of it?

I asked the barman who jokingly gave us two glasses and pretended he was about to open it for us. The light at the bottom made it look like a nice decoration for a bar but nothing else.

Why do women wear shoes that cripple their feet?

Mrs PM walks to a restaurant on the night out in here plimsolls and then pulls out her high heeled foot butchering shoes just outside and proceeds to hobble in clutching on to me as if she has severely injured herself.

Why do some 60 year old women wear revealing and tight fitting clothes that are designed for 21 year olds? 

A woman in a restaurant who would have looked okay wearing normal older person clothes, chose to wear one of those short, tight fitting dresses that revealed almost everything and left very little to the imagination. What’s more she was plastered in make-up, so much in fact that it probably took an expert interior decorator about three hours to make her look vaguely young. It didn’t; she looked ridiculous as she waddled to the toilet, her blubber hanging over the strategically placed “sexy” holes in the dress. Once seen, you can never unsee a sight like that.

What on earth is the logic of having a full length mirror in front of a toilet so that I can see myself pee?

In the same restaurant, I had a perfect view of myself as I answered a call of nature. Why? I ask again: “WHY????”

Why would anybody consider having a huge tattoo? 

Cheryl Cole/Fernandez-Vermicelli (or whatever her name is) has the most enormous tattoo on her bum. Why? What on earth is she going to look like at the age of 60?

How has Katie Hopkins managed to carve out television career for herself by being offensive?

Yes, that’s right! They’ve given Little Miss Nasty her own TV show finally!



What the flump were they thinking??????

Why hasn’t anybody exiled Piers Morgan to a remote island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean? Or to the moon?

He is STILL on my tellybox despite my protestations. I thought we had exiled him to America. Well apparently he pissed them off so much they sent him back! Can we send him to Australia now?

Who gives a flying flump about Kim Kardashian or any member of her family?

I am sick of people talking about these people. Stop talking about  them and they will go away.

What is going on in the head of Kanye West?

His ego is bigger than the universe, so much so that he recently declared himself the greatest living rock star on the planet. This after he had murdered Bohemian Rhapsody:



If he’s the greatest living rock star on the planet then I am a cat from outer space.

Why does my cat shit on my doormat?

Talking of cats, my fat lazy cat, Jasper, has recently started dumping his wares on our doormat. I think he’s trying to tell me something. We have had to start spraying the mat with Feliway – a kind of cat pheromone. It’s working but now …

Why do cats wait until you have cleaned their litter tray before immediately dumping their wares back into it? 

It’s summer. The cats should go outside to dump their wares but they are too lazy and prefer to use their trays (which I hate!!!). So there I am, like an idiot, cleaning the last disgusting mess only to find it refilled within seconds!

And why do cats vomit in the worst places?

Cats eat so much of their own fur that it congregates inside their gullets as a repulsive disgusting globule of semi-digested hair which they seem to love chundering up in the middle of my freshly vacuumed and cleaned carpet. Why can’t they go outside to do it? Of do it in the litter tray (I wouldn’t mind if I had just cleaned it).

The Great British Bake Off; what in the name of all that is SANE is this terrible cookery programme doing on prime time British television?

We are all mad in Britain because we watch utter garbage on television and become so obsessed with it that it fills the newspapers and in some cases it becomes all-consuming. We have terrible trailers for this show including one that was banned for copyright infringement, which had 80 year old Mary Berry singing a terrible version of the “Sound of Music”. This programme personifies the stupidity of some of my fellow countrymen who are infatuated with cookery programmes. Put the bloody thing on its own cookery channel  for flump’s sake! What’s worse, people actually complain at so-called funny innuendos that fill the show. People have actually written in to the BBC and complained about the overuse of the phrase “soggy bottom”.

Are these people for real??? I want to complain about the programme itself being so shit. Get the programme off the air before I rant myself into a mad seizure!

Why do people believe everything they read in the newspapers?

The Daily Mail and the Daily Express are the worst newspapers in Britain. They report stories full of scaremongery and have a deep political agenda that people are gullible enough to believe. Almost as bad are the celebrity obsessed tabloids who love to tell us tedious facts like Cheryl Cole/Fernandez-Ventagli (or whatever her name is) has had a tattoo that covers her arse and that we should worry about her because she has lost weight. We are gradually going insane – of that I am convinced.

Why don’t people just stop listening to crap radio stations?

I have listened to radio stations in the car with Mrs PM because we cannot agree on the music we can tolerate, so we search for some common ground and discover that we can both mutually rant about idiotic DJs and the same old dreadful old music that they insist on playing. Please God, give me a radio station. I’ll show them all how it is done and I promise that I won’t spend the time between playing shit songs with banal quizzes and inane uninteresting banter that is not funny and only appeals to morons.

Why does Mrs PM like such shit music?

Why can’t I brainwash her with my fantastic music after being with her for 17 years? There is no depth to Mrs PM’s music. All she listens to is dreadful music including Britney Spears, Cheryl Cole/Flaminez-Vampiri (or whatever her name is). She doesn’t even listen to the words. Even I know the words to the songs that she likes and usually they go something like this:

I see you on the dance floor and I want your love.

If you take me home tonight you can show me all your love.

You can take your love and give it to me all night long.

And then we can beat up the guy who wrote this awful song

Why is the weather in Britain so bloody shit?

Take Friday for example. In the middle of summer I walked about 500 yards from my hotel to take a ride on the legendary “Ferry Across The Mersey” and when I returned, God, in his infinite wisdom, thought I needed a 500 yard shower. I was absolutely drenched by the time I reached the hotel.  I would have been dryer if I had stood fully clothed in my own shower for three hours.

I only went out for five minutes!!

Okay – that’s enough ranting for now.

Thanks for indulging me again.

I’m off to watch the Great British Bake Off and count how many soggy bottoms there are.

A Celebrity Rant

Do you mind if I have a good rant?

Well, I don’t care – I’m going to have one anyway.

At the end of every year, I watch a TV programme called Most Shocking Celebrity Moments simply to learn a little about the so-called celebrities that made the news in the past year for the wrong reasons, mainly so that I know who the bloody hell people are talking about. To be honest, it’s a knee-jerk response to people saying things like:

“What do you mean, you’ve never heard of Kim Kardashian? Have you been living under a rock?”

Thanks to this programme, I now know who Kim Kardashian is but the cost of knowing that has made me dust off my soapbox. The programme was a countdown of the most outrageous behaviour of these people in 2014 and I for one was almost apoplectic; as you would expect, the higher the number in this chart of disgrace, the more outrageous the deed.

For two hours, I screamed at the cats, asking questions like:

“Who is this person?”

“What on Earth was she bloody well thinking?”

“Why do people humiliate themselves so much just to get noticed?”

The cats were equally incredulous.

Here are the lowlights for me.

Robin Thicke (by name and nature) who, not content with writing a song that was a misogynistic pile of crap and allowing Miley Cyrus to thrust her arse into his groin on an awards show, managed to get caught being a very naughty boy, so much so that his wife left him – understandably so. What does he do? He releases an album dedicated to her, in a futile attempt to win her back. It bombed – and I’m glad.

I discovered who Kim Kardashian was because she had a photo shoot in a magazine showing her huge naked arse under the heading “Break the Internet”. As far as I can tell all she is famous for is having a rich father and starring in a terrible reality TV show. Apparently she has an army of fans and it makes me wonder – what in the name of all that is weird do these people see in her? The famous “arse” photo has been seen all over the internet (and I am not going to reproduce it here because the last thing I want to do is give her any more publicity, however, microscopic it would be) and it goes to show that this woman (and sadly many other so-called celebrities) will plumb new chasms in order to add a little more infamy and win more idiotic fans. And the worst thing I discovered about her, is that she is married to Kanye West – arguably the most arrogant and egocentric musical celebrity ever to stagger onto my television screen. He has claimed to be God, the new Shakespeare and the best rock star in the world.

Yeah, Kanye, yeah!

Moving on swiftly (because I could spend an entire post ranting about Kanye West), have you heard of media troll Katie Hopkins? She first hit the headlines on the UK version of The Apprentice and even then her arrogance stood out a thousand miles. It was clear back then, when the post-mortem on her exit from The Apprentice was shown:

That was back in 2006, and since then, particularly recently, she has said outrageous things on Twitter and on TV. Here’s an example where she annoyed the host of a TV show because she judges who her kids can play with based on their names. This is unbelievable:

She’s insulted fat people, other celebrities and even wrote a nasty tweet about a Scottish nurse, who after catching Ebola while treating people in Africa, was transported for treatment from Glasgow to London. She wrote: "Sending us Ebola bombs in the form of sweaty Glaswegians just isn't cricket."

I, personally, would sign a petition to get this woman removed from all forms of media. Is she so desperate for fame that she is happy to offend as many people as possible? Perhaps not because she has just joined “Celebrity Big Brother” and will spend a few weeks in a house with a whole bunch of other celebrities desperate to revive their ailing careers.

Finally, of course, we have Justin Bieber, a kid with the arrogance of Kanye West who considers himself to be above the law and is so consumed by himself that he is oblivious to all of his crimes and misdemeanours.

I simply cannot connect with these people in any way whatsoever. It is almost as if they are a totally different species. They are so consumed by themselves that they simply do not seem to be able to understand the effect of their actions or behaviour. I don’t understand either.

For example, why on earth would a person take a naked photo of themselves and store them on a medium (in this case “the cloud”) that can be hacked and published on the internet? I would never take a photograph of myself naked – not even if I were drunk.

Even when something bad happens in a celebrity’s relationship, it seems to be like a media explosion or, in the case of Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin, a breakup can be veiled in the most idiotic phraseology to disguise what it really means in an attempt to sugar coat the event and portray the breakup as something sweet.

I mean, what the flump does the phrase “conscious uncoupling” even mean? If I were to go to Mrs PM and say “I want to consciously uncouple”, I think she would rip out my spine and parade it on a huge spike in the centre of Manchester with the banner:

The Plastic Mancunian and his spine have been consciously uncoupled

And, do you know what? I wouldn’t blame her.

My final part of the rant (and it is the final part – I promise) is this obsession with nips, tucks and plastic surgery.

Why do celebrities feel the need to alter their appearance? Why can’t they just grow old gracefully? Actresses in particular should be aware that they can’t play a young sex siren at the age of 50. Instead, we find that they convert themselves to fish by pumping their lips up like balloons. Surely they are aware that as they get older they can play more mature parts? Think about it – movies need older actors and actresses to play older people.

And if you are a pop or rock star, why do you have to be weird (and yes I do mean you Lady Gaga) or kill yourself to still look like a 20 year old at the age of 50? I like the music, not the looks of the bands who play it.

Phew! I’m all ranted out now!

What do you mean “Thank God!”?

I will, of course, punish myself in December 2015 by finding out which celebrities have made complete and utter arses of themselves in the coming twelve months.

It confirms to me at least that I am a happy normal every day person.

Oh – and dear reader – if I somehow become really famous in 2015 and make an arse of myself in public you have my permission to come to Manchester and give me a good slap – although I will be so ashamed I will probably use my new found wealth to exile myself on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific ocean.