I had an idea, last night. I lay half-asleep giving speeches in my mind, on the issues of the day.
I think there would be great mileage in being a racist, sexist, homophobe.
The historian David Irving figured that out. Writers are utterly periperhal to society. Artists are _desperate_ to get noticed. Most die poor. So what do you do?
Flaunt society’s norms. Call it art, get a hype going, then sell out fast before they notice you haven’t the talent of a broad bean.
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In Mr Irving’s case, he became a contrarian. He developed a constituency. He thought he could get away with it because the West _was_ very tolerant of free speech. Tons of free publicity = money in the bank.
Get your hooters out, like Madonna, then say it’s empowering for women. Release a pop record, and demand your government solve Third World poverty. Do it for the kids. Rebel, by raiding a costume shop, and posturing on TV. Say "we’re very much in love", then run off with the au-pair. Behave like a beast, then go on talk-shows advisingÂ? people how not to become beastly. You’re now an authority on it. You feel our pain!
What marvellous bo**ox. Get a manager, write a book, release a record, open supermarkets, divulge the most intimate details of your life: a grand way of making money. Especially for someone with a poor education, and no prospects.
Then, when you’ve made your bit, complain about ‘press intrusion’!
Alas! Attitudes change. Times change. Mr. Irving pushed to far, for too long, and got clapped in irons. No Socratic hemlock for him, he recanted at the last minute. Too late!