"Oo-de bong! Tae kwan de kong! Can you hear me John-John?"
It takes a while for my psychic powers to tune in to the ghostly voice
of 'Sarcastic' Beatle John Lennon, but it's worth the wait. That familiar nasal brogue
eventually reverberates through my bedroom and announces the reappearance of one of
Rock's most controversial scousers, shot dead by a crazed fan back in 1981.
BI: Is that you John?
JL: Yeah, but I'm a bit busy. What do you want?
BI: Won't keep you long Mr. Lennon, I'm keen to paint a picture of your thoughts for the many fans on a new phenomenon known as The Internet.
JL: Oh, yeah?
BI: Er, yes. I'm contacting you from the nether world in a bid to show our many readers all over the world what a force for good your work continues to be in the increasingly corrupt world, even now you've passed on.
JL: Fuck all that, I'll tell you what's what. It's shit here. I can't smoke dope, shoot heroin or even get a decent pint of Stella.
BI: Well, that's as maybe Mr. Lennon, but you must find some comfort when you look down upon our planet. Take the fact that your ever-faithful wife, Yoko, has found such happiness and creative success in her continuing work....
JL: To be honest la, that was the one blessing when I bit the dust. Now I don't have to listen to that fucking high-pitched whinging all day long. She always muscled in on my publicity 'cause she knew deep down her art was piss-poor and she couldn't sing for shit.
BI: But you seemed so close! I've seen Imagine, in it you'd finally found a soulmate, a glorious union of two like minds, a duo of hearts sharing one creative vision!
JL: Bollocks! Creative vision? She knew I had a few quid and I'd pay for her to make a twat of herself as long as I got my own way at the bed-ins if you know worra mean.
BI: This is amazing, no one's ever known you felt that way! I think we just assumed you were too out of it to notice her instability and tendency toward Hose-Beastisms. Why on earth did you put up with it?
JL: Basically she let me shave her minge now and again and sometimes give her one up the arse without squealing, and she didn't mind about all the groupies I shafted. Still, I got a bit fed up with her sometimes. <chuckles to himself in a ghostly manner> You know la, I once painted a Dirty Sanchez on her top lip for a laugh.
BI: Hmmm, I think I know what that is but I don't really want to go into it here.
JL: Ha! I pissed myself when I saw it! There was even a bit of sweetcorn in there, it looked like a wart! I told her it
was part of my art and tried to take a photo but she'd already run off to be sick.
BI: Crikey! But surely you must miss Sean and Julian?
JL: Sean's a lispy little twat, a right mummy's boy if ever there was one. And Julian well, he was more fun when he was doing too much charlie. Little gobshite looks just like Miles Hunt from The Wonder Stuff don't he?
BI: I've always thought that! I never knew you were into The Wonder Stuff!
JL: In my opinion Hup! was their most musically complete work, although not the most commercially successful. The big fella's got quite a good jukebox up here, apart from that fucking Frog Chorus abomination Peter Cook keeps putting on just to piss me off. I get to select some of my music if I fluff enough clouds. Me favourites are Half Man Half Biscuit and The Beta Band but sometimes I fancy a bit of S Club 8.
BI: S Club? Haven't they split up?
JL: S Club did so S Club Juniors got promoted to a more senior role in the multinational S Club Corporation. Did you know they had a higher GDP than Mozambique last year? I ain't jokin' la. I only hope they can follow up smash hits like 'Automatic High' and 'My Ding-A-Ling' with more quality product.
BI: Erm, amen to that Mr. Lennon. Anyway, thanks for the chat. Any final words for your fans?
JL: Well, they should know that George isn't dead, he actually opened a Steak House in Albuquerque 'cause he knew all of that hippy bollocks wasn't getting him nowhere. And Paul's still a c*nt, I'm just glad 'e ended up with that peg-legged bitch, bloke deserves nothing more! Oh God, hang on, I'm getting me a knee-trembler again...
BI: I'll let you get off then mate. John Lennon - thanks for talking to me in lifestyles of the dead and famous!
JL: No worries, best of luck with that net crap and I'll put in a good word for you with Faithy if you want to do him next, 'e's a good lad. Now where's that dirty wench Thora Hird? If she's not about I'll have to crack one off meself....
BI: Ugh. Um, the spirit is fading to me, so cheers again to John Lennon, t'ra!
JL: Night-night!
Next time: Adam Faith on the unexpected and coincidental improvement in Channel 5's programming during the weeks following his death.
Some webzines may claim to offer you unprecedented access to the belief systems,
shopping habits and dirty little proclivities of the rich and glamorous, but none have
ever gone as far as the afterlife in a bid to gain insights into what makes a star tick,
a star who is no longer around for us to worship on the temporal plane, what with being
dead and everything.
Now, for the first time, Friend of the Late Stars Bert Infiltration, makes contact for us.
On a regular basis he will sit in a darkened room burning incense and rubbing himself
while chanting random Eastern gobbledegook in an attempt to conjure up the famous
of yesteryear, or at least their voices, and find out exactly what's 'hot' and what's not 'hot' in the increasingly fashion-conscious spirit realm. All of you lucky, lucky people can read it here first at HDUK, the webzine that refuses to let the dead rest!
