|
Just who are the Children of the Revolution?, This writer for one doesn't believe that Elton John holds the key. Maybe though, just maybe, Pete Doherty has a claim. “You can’t fool the children of the revolution”. Those immortal words, hacked to a bloody death by a self indulgent Elton John with his latest celebrity interest, Pete Doherty. Both accompanied by the gentle whirring sound of Marc Bolan spinning in his grave. This was the disturbing sight that confirmed the nations division over its latest fallen idol and dirty-fingered, lyrical laureate. Viewed by a billion and one live 8 well wishers. The final nail in the coffin? The career that was never destined to flourish due to the heavy burden of a head full of magic and veins full of junk. In a media-led democracy we have little forgiveness for such talent and potential being thrown away so carelessly. The smell of blood was clearly too much for the passing vultures that circled above the stage that day. My problem lies therein. We build them up and knock them down. Far be it from me to patronise you, the reader, by telling you about the fine line that stands between genius and insanity. Our history of heroes paints the picture perfectly. Pete Doherty should be one of these heroes. A national treasure. Why? Because he is the golden boy of our generation. Imagine this, we the public have a change of direction, we decide not to crucify the fellow after all. Imagine instead that we decide to support the lad; we even, dare I say it, encourage him. We all tell him how great he is and he takes heart from this. He puts down his syringe, picks up his favoured weapon and pens a poem of such beauty that we are all inspired to love each other even more than we already do. Blair tells Bush to sort his act out, he plays him the new Doherty record and Bush agrees and buys North Korea a big bunch of flowers and send a few extra bob over to North west Africa by way of apology for doing nothing before. Ok, a touch on the romantic side I hear you say. Perhaps, but we all know the type of influence this kind of guy can have on the forces of good. Remember a guy called John Lennon, the wife-beating junkie, you must have heard of him. He changed the world you know. Then there was Keith Moon, the fun-loving skin beater who bred a million other drummers (half of them personally). All we are saying is give Pete a chance. When he’s dead, he’ll be far too cold and stiff to embrace. So do it now. Embrace what we’ve got while we’ve got it. “Cornered, the boy kicked out at the world. The world kicked back, a lot f***** harder” but it really wasn’t necessary. |