She's almost as out-of-touch with reality as any of the following:
1. A conservative MP
2. A Labour Prime Minister
3. Anyone who buys a PC instead of a Mac.
Peaches Geldof's career as a magazine columnist may the shortest-lived in the history of hackery after her first piece for the website of fashion mag Nylon copped one of the severest shoeings theoretically possible before the sheer intensity of reader anger causes the entire internet to permanently implode. Peaches recently …
All I could think when reading that was this:
George: Oh, yeah. The lads frequently sit around the telly and watch her for a giggle. One time we actually sat down and wrote these letters saying how gear she was in all that rubbish.
Simon Marshall: [weakly] She's a trendsetter. It's her profession.
George: She's a drag. A well known drag. We turn the sound down on her and say rude things.
Yes, yes, yes.. so the writing isn't all that.. but this
"huge geek glasses, and a mass of red hair sticking out haphazardly from beneath an Amish-style hat"
is serious. It's all very well Peaches running through Times Square marvelling at its energy, or whatever it was she was marvelling at. She's a talentless celeb-sprog. That's her job. But clearly some local company is missing their unix sysadmin.
If her penchant for vintage boutique sourcing is going to start creating network outages then it's quite right that the Reg brings it to our attention.
Or remember her appearance on Have I Got New For You? as part of her book launch publicity. She had claimed the book took her six days to write and Ian Hislop asked he if she had suffered from Writers Block. Classic stuff.
Paula Yates: [to Ian Hislop] Don't even look at me, you sperm of the devil.
Ian Hislop: Sperm of the devil. Even your insults emanate from the genitals.
Peaches reminds me heavily of her mother.
...for she has been roused! ;¬)
So, talentless drone offspring of Geldoff write a vapid article... I have to admit, it's not exactly news is it? The response of the rag concerned is probably newsworthy though, if only so we can all have a giggle and it *is* in Bootnotes, n'est-ce pas?
"The sun glows a burned..."
That's "burnt". Burned oranges are black, cindery things; they take quite a hot fire, too.
"...orange as it sinks behind a skyscraper..."
How very fucking original. They have skyscrapers in NY? Who knew?
"...a car horn screeches irritably..."
Only in Edward Lear. Car horns don't screech. That's owuls.
"...the wind whistles through the acres of willows in Central Park: New York, the most offbeat and eccentric city in America, is my new home."
Prize there for the most inappropriate use of a colon, surely. [Hmmm, colon - Ed]. Is that "Central Park, New York." followed by a non-sequitur? Or did you mean to end the sentence after Park.
Stream of consciousness is all very well, but stream of semi-comatose doesn't work.
Actually when reading his rambling restaurant reviews I often find myself wondering what
his point is too, so he's well placed to assess a pointless waste of space.
>Well, yeah. It's not like this doesn't have an IT angle.
There's no IT Angle here, an on-line rag deletes some of the more offensive comments to
an article, doesn't make an IT story. I rarely get a comment on Hazel Blears in the Reg even with its light touch regulation.
Perhaps the IT angle is that you read it while standing ON YOUR FRIGGING HEAD?
FFS What next? Are we going to get the low down on J-Lo's facebook page?
Perhaps a thinly disguised article on Stella McCartney's jeans loosely based on what
someone said about them on-line, once, a while back, although no-one read it?
Words cannot convey my contempt for the utter vacuity of this article.
Given the level of some comments, how much worse are the ones we never see? Moderators (and I was once one) deserve medals.
Poor Peaches is just so, so young. Still young enough to think that 'cool' clothes maketh the man. Few older, distinguished achievers need their clothes to give them a personality. It's a stage we all grow out of, achievers or not. Fortunately, most of use have never exposed ourselves in print before we do.
and there's probably a sociology paper in there about how jumping on the bandwagon of reader interaction through feedback pages can go spectacularly wrong if you misjudge your readership. Anyone who's been around the Web for more than five minutes could have told them that deleting all the negative comments was a surefire recipe for getting a whole load more of them.
Shame they went for another round of deletion, there was some genuinely funny, insightful and well-written stuff in there. Unlike the original piece
Who the fuck is Peaches Geldof?
Ah, I see, she's that guy's daughter. Hm. Read that "article". I am delighted to see she seemingly knows who Jack Kerouac was but I guess good ol' Jack would rise from the grave and vomit stale booze and fifteen sandwiches all over her face once told he was part of her unwholesome drivel on shopping (he might like the overall cheapness of it all), ginger clownspants and her transy husband.
Why am I supposed to care about some spoiled underage brat again?
"Down in the waterfront in San Francisco, you always bite off more than you can chew. It's tough on your windpipe, but you don't go hungry."
"She sauntered in, moving slowly from side to side like 118 pounds of warm smoke.She walked with the nice easy swing of a satisfied leopard. And for a smaller leopard, she had pretty good spots too."
"Mike was a tall, wide package, so I gave him a bargain offer. He didn't fold after two, but he had a kind of hurt look in his eyes when I hit him a third time, like I didn't know he could take a hint. When he wound up and hit the floor, every window in the house rattled, and I figure the Berkley seismograph got a cheap thrill."
Jack Webb as Pat Novak, KGO radio, 1947
..."traveled across America in a cramped, packed U-Haul and experienced parts of the U.S. not many people see unless they go off the beaten path. The days passed by in a haze of truck stops, fast food restaurants, and palm trees. "
Editorial note - If you see truck stops and fast food restaurants, that would be "the beaten path". Palm trees are path-agnostic, but if they were plastic (they were plastic.. weren't they?) then I would, again, go for "beaten path".
Aside from that, what I read was a startlingly frank piece that tells the story, better than anything I have ever read, of a vacuous pop-heiress's journey of non-discovery where the unfolding landscape of the American heartland repeatedly fails to challenge her preconceived world view and where her encounters with the inhabitants of this strange and terrifying new world completely fail to hold a mirror up to the shallowness and hypocrisy of her own life. Finally, unchanged and unrepentant, she she reaches the melting pot of New York and finds herself emerging from her cocoon to discover a pastiche of cola commercials and Paul Simon songs which, it turns out, is some sort of abscess on the backside of the city. She looks forward to her new life living, with her other horrifically beautiful parasitic friends, in a private paradise - a golden pond of Goldschläger, warm pus and delusion.
So yes. Almost exactly like Jack Kerouac.
I made the serious and emetic error of google-imaging her name. So that my fellow El Reg readers may be spared this horrific and unmanning experience, heed my warning: DO NOT TYPE 'PEACHES GELDOF' INTO GOOGLE IMAGES UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
So, to answer ciaran's question - no.
To help dissuade everyone's curiosity, now that I've piqued it, and thereby preserve male sexuality: imagine, if you will, a pair of broomsticks dangling from the bottom of an upright hoover, with two more broomsticks hanging from the sides, a plaster-and-lipstick coated Sylvester Stallone mask perched on top for a face, and a dirty mop on that for hair. Can you spell "munter"?
Paris because *even* she is a paragon of beauty next to this chick... and El Reg, please, please in the name of all masculinity, do not ever provide a "Peaches" icon. You'll kill us all.
El Reg has a problem in hte editorial department.
The problem is Paris is begining to look respectable. Her "Paris for President" campaign in response to the loser McCain putdown was erudite, intellegent, stylish and very very funny.
Plus she appears to be adopting dear old blighty and, dammit, we are obliged be nice to her now.
Peaches can be the new Paris. No videos yet (give it time) , but there is absolutly no danger of her ever making an intelligent comment, no danger of us feeling sorry for her because grandad gave his billions away, and if she moves back to the old country well she was born here so we can carry on being rude and insensitive ( RossBranding?) about her.
Could you submit your comment to Nylon, you could get your own column. Or not. It may not fall within the bounds of their editorial policy of trivial style-centric emptiness.
I think as an ironic comment on the shifting nature of the ownership of intellectual property I'm just going to go ahead and post it to Nylon anyway.
But in a counter-ironic twist, I will credit you as "Anonymous Coward".
And they all laughed, and laughed, and laughed. And then stopped. Because it was time for a latte.
I thought it unfair to comment without reading the piece by Peaches. So I did. I wish I hadn't.
What does this facile little airhead think she has to say that's worth hearing? She's just another deluded offspring of a celebretard. More to blame are the fools at 'Nylon' magazine who passed this drivel to press.
But, as others have said, some of the comments are worth a read.
I take issue with the contention that Peaches' career will be the shortest-lived in the history of journalism; I am reminded of a similarly empty piece that appeared on the Guardian's Comment is Free section a while back, written by the son of one of the newspaper's travel writers. Goeherty, or something along those lines. (checks)
Gogarty, Max Gogarty, that was his name. He's the second result if you Google for "guardian gap year", such is his infamy. He was about to go on his gap year, exploring exactly the same places that tens of thousands of other middle-class gap year students had explored before him, but the reader reaction was so hostile that there was never a follow-up, and Gogarty has vanished into obscurity. In contrast, I have no doubt that we will hear of Peaches Geldof again.
I think the lesson is that skinny jeans are the enemy of reason. Or would it be more accurate to say that skinny jeans are the enemies of reason, plural? Hmmm.
Maybe this vacuous little airhead should take a leaf out of her old man's book and engage with the real world. Geldof pere attained his celebrity status because he was a charismatic entertainer who used his fame, not only to his own advantage, but to exploit the contacts he had in the music business to alleviate the suffering of others. While all the arm-twisting, and effing-n-blinding may not have justified the "Saint Bob" moniker, at least he did some things that made this planet a slightly better place.
Celebrity culture today celebrates egocentric pointlessness taken to the level of insanity, I welcome the outpouring of derision and scorn that is being heaped on the head of this stupid woman and look forward to the same treatment being dished out to her fellow slebs.
Marvellous. Utterly marvellous. Thank you for that timely reminder (and obviously also respect is due to Alun Owen, Dick Lester, and the other four guys in this picture, can't quite remember their names, Liam, John, Noel, Paul? Whatever...).
Mind you, I'm not sure why the article made it onto El Reg in the first place, but now it's here...