Sunday, October 19, 2003


Amid a fanfare of pretentious psychobabble that made Deepak Chopra sound profound and a series of films by Harmony Korine that looked like they'd been made as part of an A-level media studies course, David Blaine was winched down from his perspex box and into the arms of paramedics -- who I sincerely hope weren't paid for out of my taxes.

For me, the stunt was summed up in the behaviour of Blaine's girlfriend, Manon von Gerkan. You would have thought she would have rushed to the aid of her boyfriend as he stepped weakly from his plastic chicken coop. But no. She stood filming the whole spectacle with her video camera -- as if there weren't enough cameras around to record the event for posterity.

If only Blaine had spent his 44 days of solitary confinement doing something worthwhile, like delivering meals on wheels to pensioners or teaching kids with autism how to count cards at the casino.

Thank God it's finally over.


Post a Comment

<< Home