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Wilson: Today's Hottest Ticket in Town, Scorchio!
Wilson. Tony Wilson. Anthony H Wilson. Anthony Howard Wilson. Arrogant Twat. Whatever we, his loves and lovers one and all, call him, today is the man's first funeral. Another Wilson first!
Brilliant. On the piss poor piss up in a brewery but absolutely brilliant principle that Wilson and Factory made famous. The funeral service of the man with the most close friends in the world is in the smallest fucking church in Manchester. [Bless me father for I have sinned. 30 years since etc] 2pm Today. The Hidden Gem. Family and close friends only. By invitation only. 100% guestlist. How I hate fucking guestlists.
LOL will deliver soon on the promise for more reflection on Wilson's ongoing life and times. Meanwhilst for the impatient among you dear readers I did manage a rant over on facebook's most populous of three dozen and counting love ins for the late, nearly always late, great, nearly always great, Wilson: 
A response to the well meaning but inappropriate idea of a bog standard big fuck off brass statue to commemorate the man.
Like a Wellington, a Victoria, a Cromwell, a Peterloo or a Pankhurst (these last two being, alas, imaginery, though Wellington was probably in the government when the rich men's cavalry charged the disenfranchised and oppressed people; and Old Vic surely was not the slightest bit amused by the crinolene terrorist Christabel and her like).
4 comments:
Chris, have you got Tourette's ??? Why so many F-words????? I think the choice of church , well. had to be the Hidden Gem.As it happens., I had to take some pics in manchester today so bobbed in and paid my respects outside with a couple of hundred others.Frankly, dying at 57 , partly down to the piss-poor nature of NHS funding, was not an occasion for a big Diana-style gig.Death isn't something to be celebrated, In the case of Anthony H, it was a pretty horrible demise. So, yeah, let's have a BIG mmeorial service. But today wasn't meant to be a 24-hour Party.
What are you on abaht Grim?
I spent the full 90 minutes and then walked to the cemetary. Really and truly.
But I really don't think you've paid attention to the life and times of Wilson (or LOL) if you don't understand the Tourette's. Or the irony.
That is homage to Wilson.
And if a dying man can be gracious and generous and kind about the fantastic NHS we have, albeit not exactly perfect, then why can't you be?
And I do hate fucking guests lists. Because I was a promoter and a band manager and they are bad for business. Particularly when you don't ask.
And - as today - I almost never asked to be on a guest list and so enjoyed an alternative funeral service with the B-list, and fans, and gawpers, and silly scribblers and snappers with half a clue or less about what was happening.
Gave a few interviews. And had a nice time celebrating a life. Watch out on Newsnight, GTV and BBC anyway. You may see me in action. Bigging up Wilson and Manchester. Without a single fucking F. Professional like.
Just for the record: I have known Wilson for 24 years. He signed my forms and took me to my first NUJ meeting. I worked with him on various projects throughout that time. More anon.
If you were ever a journalist my mother was the Queen of Sheba!
Tosh and more tosh! I don't know about Tourette's but "fantasist" seems more likely. You've got to be on some mind-bending substance, Chris or I'm my moncles unkey.
Would that be Princess Sheba? Or the one and only Tosh Carter-Ruck posting Pished?
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