Back, a very very long time ago, I had respect for Bob Geldof. Sure, he’d only ever produced the one song of note, I don’t like Mondays, but he seemed to capture the mood of a moment in time with the whole Band Aid and Live Aid thing. Yeah, he was a bit over the top, but maybe it was for that moment in time, exactly what was needed.
From that point he lived off his 15 minutes of fame for the rest of his life.
The world moved on, but he didn’t move with it. Yeah, he made millions out of his various business and ‘meeja’ monopolies, and then became part of the many socialist millionaires pumping money into the Labour party. That was in the days when the Labour party first became a rich man’s plaything for trying to influence the country and ensure they were able to hide their wealth from fair taxes.
Then more recently he surfaced again on a champagne swilling luxury ship sailing up the Thames to shout at protesting fishermen in their tiny boats. He was angry that they were daring to protest about the way their industry was being killed by EU regulations. The rich left love protesting, but hate others protesting about things they disagree with.
Then came the story of him shouting and swearing at a local Essex event that he was headlining. He was wanking on about his £350 snakeskin shirt and slagging off those who couldn’t afford such things. He seemed to have a big downer on anybody who could only afford to buy from Primark. Many people left, leaving him alone on the stage to just shout at himself.
Well, insulting the poor, having a go at those with less than them, it’s all in a day’s work for these out of touch millionaire socialists.