September 3 2015 Latest news:
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
If world hunger could be solved by relentless self-publicity and rampant egotism, Bono could have single-handedly fed the world and left Africa facing an obesity epidemic years ago.
Admit it, U2 are loathsome. They’re a Nu Labour Dire Straits for people who smoked joss sticks at university. Bono wears stupid glasses. His trousers are too tight. His anti-drugs stand makes me glad that most rock stars are too utterly wasted to start lecturing us about global warming/Aids/Third World debt/the donkey sanctuary at Sidmouth.
I was horrified to discover that U2 are working on a new album, set to be released this year. Bono is going to be everywhere, all over again. Banging on. Singing. Both are equally irritating.
A typical week for Bono runs something like this:
Monday: Summit meetings with Afghan warlords. Lunch/colonic irrigation at Chris Martin and Gywneth Paltrow’s house. Use Apple Martin’s puppet theatre to recreate historical scenes of abuse from the Abu Ghariab prison to raise her awareness of humanitarian issues.
Tuesday: Crisis talks with Israeli defence ministers over arms sales. During coffee break, draft plan on napkin to end all famine before Sunday teatime. Lunch in leprosy colony. Create scale model of Taj Mahal from Lego for son’s school project. Send it home on Lear jet.
Wednesday: Meet with Palestinian Authority President at gym. Agree to 15-minute acoustic set at his birthday party if he imposes an immediate moratorium on prisoner executions. Meet The Edge at tapas bar. Write new platinum-selling album: ‘Unchallenging Pop Songs for the Easily Pleased’.
Thursday: Turn back the tides. Feed the 5,000 with one KFC bargain bucket and a ‘go large’ milkshake.
Friday: Breakfast with authorities in Guatemala to persuade them to incorporate a wider-ranging gender perspective into their policy-making. Photo call at UN headquarters. Swear (“crikey!”) during live TV interview about the ivory trade. Scrummy cupcakes and proper giggles with Elton John at teatime.
Saturday: Grant Pope an audience and put forward 30-year plan for Catholic church. Personally intervene when hotel runs out of Champagne with stock from private vineyard. E-conference with family. Note there appears to be a new child, apparently born in 2002.
Sunday: Smoke joss sticks and listen to Dire Straits.
Another reason I hate U2: my first ‘proper’ boyfriend decided, unilaterally, to choose ‘our song’. It was U2’s ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’ and he claimed not to see the irony.
Three years later, he found what he was looking for: my flatmate.