Cover boy Liam Gallagher is a '21st Century Boy' when the b/w pic harks back to the mid-90s. Yellow-toothed David Bailey snaps the portrait, sooo 60s, darling.
The John Lydon Glenda Slagg page snarls into sundry confusions: he tells us that he calls the Royal Wedding the Royal Weeding - 'because there will be a bit of cross-pollination in the family for once.' Gardening question: what has weeding to do with cross-pollination?
Did someone edit this magazine or was it thrown together by celebrity bookers weathered by eye-rolling riders?
Another 90s-looking relic, in the shape of Prof Brian Cox, boldly recycles his old uni notes to tell us about a star that blew up 700 years ago. Nothing more recent from the atheist campaigner? The accompanying eye-like nebula photo would be better placed in a Specsavers ad, with Cox as the 'before' case study.
Jam being a cliche-in-progress, the feature on organised crime groups inevitably follows. With street crime rates on the rise, this is just what the world needs - another magazine crime polish for the enlargement of mirrored scrotism.
It's just as well the publication is a giveaway: anyone in mags will tell you dark covers don't sell. And a near-monochromatic inside, with bits of spot colour (in the few ads mainly), associates dreary notions of fantasy machismo with psycho cellar dwellers. If you want to give someone a nervous breakdown in this fragile little world suggest a piece on trannies and whether they dress right or left in drag.
I once wrote apropos of Tony Parsons, and an idiotic piece he disgorged in GQ about his soldier daddy and his (Tony's) love of guns, that cultural masculinity thrives on the degree of harm it causes: the more others are deprived of something the more the depriver - the hapless male catalogue reader - feels valued as a man. Jam brings nothing new to this Charlie Sheen nightmare.
One bit of hope is in the editor's letter, pre-written in spirit in another age by aging scrote James Brown, the founder of Loaded, now proud owner of the Sabotage Times website: 'Most men [don't read magazines],' writes Mark Hayman. The poor chap must be a professional masochist.
13 comments:
Pitching them now on the prevalence of Peyronie's among drag queens and the role of 'tucking'.
Yes, a new mag for the Smelly Botty set
It's comforting to see Astrology hasn't mellowed you at all.
Do let le know how that pitch goes down at Jam.
The Lady is the best place for you.
Jam is like a cross between the old NME and early FHM. The pagses stink with chemicals, glue sniffers will love it. Most of the blokes who read the paper will just dump this unread. In fact a guide to free net porn sites would do better. I can highly recommend xvideos.com. I wank at it every night.
Sheer bliss Madame. Welcome back.
And xtube.com too
You have to wonder what the point of it all is. Women find comfort in reading that '*random celebrity* used to be really fugged up but since she got married/had a baby/left her husband, she's feeling and looking better than ever' on a repeat cycle every couple of years. Men like to think they're above that kind of thing. The long pieces they think they crave are pretty expensive to fund, as editors know well...
Hardly anyone reads long pieces anyway. I tried to read a bit of the Gallagher interview, but it was sooo boring; just PR laced with some old New Journalism twizzle. I estimate 123 people have read the piece out of a readership of 11 million.
Why not call it MAJ . . .
What a sad pathetic person you are. Any why would anyone be interested in the opinions of some ridiculous astrologer?
Liam Gallagher. A virtual recluse - what a coup to get him. Yawn.
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