Well, what more can be said about Jams O’Donnell which hasn’t been already said?
He is a denizen of the night owl town of Romford, of which Wiki said:
[The] developed night time economy [is] greater than in any other metropolitan centre in Greater London, with 8,360 square metres (90,000 sq ft) of cinemas, theatres and concert hall space; 9,530 square metres (102,600 sq ft) of bars and pubs; 5,510 square metres (59,300 sq ft) of cafes and restaurants; and 2,680 square metres (28,800 sq ft) of fast food and take away venues. The night time economy is almost as significant as the day economy with around 12,000 visit to Romford during the day and 11,000 visit to pubs, clubs and bars at night.
I suspect Jams is a fan of Emmanuelle Béart and he’s certainly a keen Iran watcher. He and I go back a long way, not necessarily being of the same political bent but we attended the same club while it flourished and that’s good enough for me.
It’s that time of year again. The Turner Prize has been and gone and our lives have been enriched once more by the dazzling display of virtuosity from our young British artists. Or maybe not.
Perhaps it should be renamed the Hans Christian Andersen Prize after his tale of the Emperor’s new Clothes.
I was going to have a rant about the state of State Art but what’s the point. David Lee of The Jackdaw has been shouting at them for ten years or more and has barely dented the smug complacency of the Art Establishment.