Dear Aunt Sophie,
I don’t know how I came to be in the ridiculous position of writing to an agony aunt for advice. I am a serious man. For one thing, I’m British. For another, I’m an MP – that is, a Member of Parliament, in case you didn’t know. And for still another, I founded my own party. Can you understand how seriously one should be taken when one has established one’s own political party?
In any event, some of my colleagues in Parliament have been ragging on me about a couple of appearances I made on the telly. I don’t recall ever swearing an oath that I would never appear on the telly and I don’t understand why they have made such a fuss over my having done it. Other MP’s have gone before the cameras without any negative consequences, but for some reason I seem to be, as you Americans would say, a lightning rod for controversy (we put the accent on the second syllable of that word, in case you didn’t know).
Now it is true that most of the time when MP’s appear on television they are speaking on political topics or equally weighty matters. And it is also true that the last time I was on the telly I was not appearing in that role. In fact I was not appearing in the role of an MP at all. I am just a regular bloke, you know, just like millions of my fellow citizens. I think it is very important for people to know that. It seems they are more likely to vote for you if they can identify with you. So I went on a reality show. That’s the ultimate common-man sort of thing one can do, now isn’t it. I did realize that I might have to do something distasteful, like eating a snake or something of that nature, but I must say, if I can bear to testify before your Senate about this silly oil-for-food business, I can eat a living snake. After all, I’ve eaten sheep’s eyes (no one wants to offend Mr. Hussein). Well, as it happened, I dispatched your stupid Senate rather handily I thought. Really let them have it.
With that under my belt I felt very confident about the reality show. But as it turned out, I didn’t have to do anything unpleasant at all. All I had to do was lap milk like a kitten out of the hands of the loveliest young woman - an actress. It was rather a sweet thing to do, actually. Later they did ask me to do something else that was a bit foolish. I had to put on a red ballet costume and prance about a bit. I must confess I did feel a bit silly doing that. It doesn’t really befit a serious man like myself, but one gets into the spirit of the thing and no one wants to be voted out, you know.
The problem is I was voted out anyway and now, back in Parliament, no one wants to listen to me on serious topics like war and national security. I tend to have a rather contrary attitude on these matters, but I don’t think a few pirouettes on the telly should compromise my reputation as a serious thinker.
There is still much to be done in world affairs. How can I convince people that I am not just another liberal twit?
You’re putting entirely too much emphasis on the fallout from your recent Celebrity Big Brother stint. I doubt anyone was really surprised at the sight of you lapping milk. At least for once you were lapping from a part of the anatomy that can be shown during family viewing hours.
Now that you’ve cracked the entertainment business, let me suggest a few other possibilities that may not have occurred to you. A man of your gravitas should not limit himself to appearances on reality TV programs or quiz shows but should consider expanding his horizons to include producing and directing. For example, I think a series in which every episode ends with you calling Bush and Blair the biggest terrorists in the world would be a smash hit, if not in the UK, then perhaps in France or for sure in the new Hamastan. In fact, there are already rumors among the Cannes crowd that if you were to produce, direct and star in such a series you’d be in serious contention for the Best-Vehicle-to-Undermine-the-Capitalist-Imperialist-Running-Dogs-of-the-Hegemonic-English-Speaking-World award.
But a series is such a long-term commitment. It tends to distract one from other, more amusing pursuits, like voting in Parliament. A simple made-for-TV movie starring you making goo-goo eyes at Uday Hussein while assuring him with a boozy smile that you’re with him all the way might - sorry, I forgot – you’ve already made that one.
Then how about a documentary explaining why “clash of civilizations” does not accurately describe the conflict between a culture that dresses its women the way we package our trash and one that cannot even fathom the gang rape of girls as punishment for slights committed by their male relatives?
If you can address these issues in some entertaining format – a musical perhaps? – your present status as Crackpot of the Kingdom will melt away.
Please, Gorgeous, the whole world is waiting.
Good luck and God bless.
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