I've decided to start writing this blog as a sort of society diary and namecheck all the time, I'm just gonna do this one quickly and see how it goes. I'm seeing how much I can namecheck without looking like I'm parodying the idea of a namechecking society column. All this namechecking is sincere yo.
So last night I had dinner with Will Hutton and spent some time talking to him about the rise and fall of Rupert Murdoch. I made the point that his use of the phrase "rise and fall" about the Murdoch empire was a bit optimistic seeing as he's still going to carry on being a billionaire and selling loads of papers even if he ends up not being at the heart of British government. I thought I was being really clever but then he shot back at me that Rupert Murdoch was "pretty fucking old" and that when he died nobody was going to regard his probable successor James Murdoch with the same levels of seriousness. And then he mentioned loads of names I've forgotten before mentioning that one of the Murdoch children isn't even talking to the rest of the clan but she owns part of News Corp so when old Rupert cops it the empire will not be the same force for conservatism/evil it once was.
Here's a picture of Rebekah Brooks and her massive hair:
That hair deserves a medal.
Back to Murdoch - on the one hand we can be all ding dong the witch is dead before the witch is even dead, but on the other hand there's a real human tragedy. Think how he must feel. Imagine having such an invincible feeling of power then having a million papers (some of which you own (I think)) say you're not fit to run an international company.
At some point I will write a one-man play, starring me as Rupert Murdoch. The setting: in the back of his limo on the way home after a day of answering questions. Hopefully, reviewers will say that it is 'poignant'. It will be about three hours of me monologuing my thoughts about everything that happened that day, and him reflecting on his life, his hopes and fears and cherished memories and regrets. I'll be covered in prosthetics and I'll take up watching Neighbours so I can practice getting the accent right. I'll take it to Edinburgh and win a prize.
Supposing someone sees this post and manages to write my play before me, then fear not. I have another idea for a play. Spy in the Bag: The Musical.
Supposing either of these are a hit then I might expand into slightly more art-house territory. There was a Mike Leigh film which ended with Lesley Manville (who used to be married to Gary Oldman) looking like a miserable cow and the conversation around her fading to silence as it zoomed in on her. It was really well done, how in that moment she was lost in her sad thoughts and not paying attention to anyone else.
It was easy to relate to, but misery isn't the only reason there is for not paying attention. In a maths revision class I was at on Monday I had a similar thing, but this was because I was half-asleep. Louise Mensch seems to have a similar thing going on, as a lot of the time she looks like she's lost in her thoughts, but specifically one sort of thought.
I think we can all see what thought she's having in this photo. Like I said, I'll have to see what the reception is to my conventional theatre writing is, but the experimental piece Louise Mensch Tries to Work Out Whether She Can Get Away With Farting could totally be a runaway hit. I'll sit in a darkened stage with one spotlight shining on me in a powersuit and a blonde wig. There'll be an actual recording playing but the main focus will be my struggle to hold in a fart, whilst toying with the idea that maybe this one will be quiet enough for me to get away with it. Regardless of your political views, it's a situation that you'll be able to relate to.