Hi! I'm Jessica Bond! I'm the new NO2EU NO 2 DEMOCRACY CAMPAIGN COMMUNICATIONS MANAGER! That's me, with Dear Bob Tit going through our early morning calisthenics, my breasts healing his smashed egg-cranium. I'm a trained pop-vid-dancer and although Bob is in a deep deep deep coma, movement is vital fruit juice for the brain muscle (with slices of banana, currants, prunes, alfalfa grass, Roger Casement, all that stuff)!
Anyway, it was during one of our work-outs that Bob spoke to me and nobody else. I won't repeat the first thing he said (and said he could do and tried his hardest to do but couldn't), but the second was his appointment of me as his P.A and CCM - a dual role I am taking v v seriously - I am a Member of the Order of Women Freemasons. We're open. We don't use condoms. All in or nothing. We are Sisters not Virgins! All Virgins most Welcome! Virgin Workshops. Mr Doors. Mrs Doors. Different doors. Diana Dors. The same entrance. Only at different times. Ann Summers. Avon Ladies. Tupperware. Jung's Mandalas. Slits through sheets. Portsmouth army boys in bhurkas. I could go on...
You may remember me from Bob's wonderful election broadcast specials. Bob and I met on set. Back then Bob was a force of nature - he rode tidal bores of ullage...But unfortunately Bob took up with another (awful) dancer in the video, fake Indian Shemale, Suki Singh (no longer a Member). It was clear Bob was confused, he took to calling everyone 'Anita Lolly' - so I joined our most bitter rivals, NO2EU YES TO DEMOCRACY instead. I wrote a letter to the Morining Star, which the fools published without realising it was a spoof and I was just trying to make My Bob Tit jealous!
I've spoken to Bob about it, he understands. It needed to happen, someone had to really rock Bob Tits way 2 tiny democratic gravy-boat! The movement needed to get bigger and bigger and bigger - Bob soon realised only I could make that happen.
Well, my wank worked and here I am! Where I belong, astride Bob as we get physical, exchange love-gifts in, between and beyond boundaries, CLR James, Olivia Neutron Bomb, Tommy Shh (Bobs new butler, I appointed - we only talk at night, we're professionals), every last drop of pop Jah-Jah-Just Imagine-Jism! Yes I do wear blonde dreadlocks! But no no no, that is not a black and white issue! (My favourite poo-poo book is i-roy bhaskar's - DIALECTIC: The Pulse of Freedom. I hate TINA. Poor i-roy. Time to move on out and down. Every morning. A pulse + prunes)
Close readers of our site will have noticed that since I became The CCM only 2 posts have been put up, both basically the same apart from a picture of big ears. We've had some complaints (although there have been many more anonymous and silent congratulations from comrades delighted that nothing at all appeared to be happening) so some of Bob's (and mine) inferiors have asked me to explain, which I'm happy reluctantly to do.
As I mentioned, I've been a pop-vid dancer, but also I've worked in advertising dancing in adverts. Like the great avant-garde art theorist Jack Conrad acknowledged in an astonishing ground-breaking letter this week, the point of which is just like what I'm doing here, explaining away a shit front cover, by name-checking John Heartfield, Duchamp, Rolf Harris etc - "a single picture really can be worth a thousand words."
You see (you fucking idiots), the whole point of my 'Lend us your Ears' was to create an air of mystery. Poise. What would happen next? Nothing? Like Duchamp showed (Marcel Duchamp {20th C}. An expert chess player who despite being a DaDaDaDa'ist used conventional black and white pieces. He dressed as a woman, but interestingly, I'm not sure how often) - was this a piss-pot or a piss-pot? Who knows, who will lend us a vote? And for godsake who would have known unless the faceless morons behind this campaign hadn't demanded an explanation and spoiled it all. What exactly is a 'sub 0.15% vote' they're banging on about? What I've been bought in2 do, what I know about is...What traumatically temporarily oscillates somewhere roughly between the heart and the mind and the spirit, pi and the bog brush. I am Paul McKenna. You are a window cleaner; is tick the boxes.
I say I say I say, it's typical of the British Left - No Imagination!
But fear not (I know you're not, that was just rhetorical - Get over it!) I, Jessica Bond have been in serious discussions with the aforementioned Conrad over a roast bird and MFP Classicalist Music Long-Players in Hampstead this very afternoon. The mine. the man is a art-aestheic-guru, he livers and breathes mind-ideas, he chops words, stirs bisto, onions opinions & like Coleridge his table talk ranges wildly by by-ways of cow methane and the lost social orals of beef curtains.
In that short but very important basted time, I got 2 know him v v well, 1 minute he's there, the next minute he's still there. He ejaculated, that, all because of little me, he was going to miss some sort of meeting for the first time since he took-over, in a swift bloody intellectual coup, Ireland in the 80's. He feared his, what he called his 'Never-Never Party' would collapse without him. But just this once, he said, fuck it -
"Lenin always fell for the Prompt, snugly hidden in the pit. He liked them with just the 1 baby leg, waggling. But I am Peter Pan."
We can stay where we are or...
Have the wheels stopped or started on the gravy-train?
Who knows? There's no quick fixes. History sleeps. Pigs sneeze. You are dual-dependent.
Love ya
Jessica (ca-ca-ca) Bond