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Friday 08 August 2008
The Independent's Great Art series
Friday 01 August 2008
Sunday 13 July 2008
"If you can't brag about doing something well," says Sebastian Horsley, "brag about doing it badly. At any rate, brag." In this memoir he takes his own advice to heart. He brags about failing his French O-level, getting kicked out of art college, covering himself in his own excrement, being a useless painter, drinking himself into insensibility, getting buggered by the celebrity criminal Jimmy Boyle, becoming a crack addict, and having sex with hundreds of prostitutes and an inflatable doll. He recounts his worst humilations with a relish that makes Rousseau's Confessions seem the epitome of coyness. You certainly can't fault the book for lack of incident. The climax, in which Horsley's vanity and masochism converge, is when he has himself crucified in Manila.
Friday 04 July 2008
Artist, poseur, self-crucifier, self-dramatist, rejected entrant to the US (for "moral turpitude"), Horsley is the bastard child of Oscar Wilde and Mae West.
Thursday 13 March 2008
One of the foremost Irish-language poets is expected to have his work removed from the school curriculum in the wake of a tangled sexual controversy.
Tuesday 19 December 2006
Thus far, glamour, celebrity and swanning around Los Angeles swimming pool parties in skimpy speedos have eluded the professional career of the former Tory leader Iain Duncan Smith.
Tuesday 06 June 2006
In the end it was the one that got away, and the England captain Andrew Flintoff, hampered for much of the match by his ankle problem, admitted as much.
Sunday 11 September 2005
Sunday 19 June 2005
Tuesday 17 May 2005
Tuesday 14 December 2004
Saturday 16 October 2004
A vicious and previously unpublished diatribe against Oscar Wilde by his lover Lord Alfred Douglas is expected to fetch £600,000 when auctioned by Sotheby's later this month.
Thursday 16 September 2004
Thursday 16 September 2004
The Grand Inquisitor could smell heresy in any book just as the Lord Chancellor could smell sexual innuendo in any playscript. But now an Italian perfumier has decided to create the smells she imagines from Proust (vanilla) to Oscar Wilde (violets).
Monday 24 May 2004
Sometimes Oscar Wilde once observed, nature is in need of a bit of editing, and of course if anyone could say that with some personal authority it was the velvet-clad specialist in hurtling over the top. When asked to describe a Rocky Mountain sunset by the proud burghers of Denver, he muttered, "how gaudy". Wilde might have offered the same reservation about some aspects of Cristiano Ronaldo's luminous domination of the FA Cup final but, unlike Sven Goran Eriksson, he would surely not have mistaken the young Portuguese for anything but an utterly thrilling man of the match.
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Girl, 7, stares down hate preacher at Ohio festival with pro-LGBT rainbow flag gesture
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