Friday, 10 December 2010

Nite Flite: The Icing On The Cake

Two of the artists on Nite Flite, Michael Jackson and Minnie Ripperton, revolve and dissolve into one another. There was something ‘unearthly’ (unhealthy?) about the way Michael Jackson kept re-mapping himself, whiter than winter. Jackson and Ripperton are no longer of this earth: both died young – Ripperton, in 1979 at 31.
There was a rumour - an urban legend - that Paul McCartney died in a car crash 1966 and was secretly replaced by a lookalike. Hundreds of supposed clues pointing to McCartney’s death were reported by fans whose research methods included: playing songs backwards and claiming to hear hidden, coded-messages: like Lennon saying, ‘I buried Paul’ (on Strawberry Fields); scrutinising Beatles’ album cover-art for visual clues and giving them a symbolic interpretation: the cover of Abbey Road was widely perceived to symbolise a funeral procession, with Lennon (dressed all in white) as an heavenly body, Ringo (all in black) as a mourner, Harrison (in scruffy jeans), a gravedigger, and a barefoot Sir Paul as a corpse.
I wonder if the tare that is Great Britain - on the cover of Nite Flite - wasn't accidental, but was the work of the NF (The National Front, a British right-wing whites-only political party, who were at their most active when Nite Flite was released, in 1988). NF - an all-white GB? Not as farfetched as it seems. Semen, that’s how the map of GB was formed: by the NF on the cover of NF. Hundreds of NF members, up and down the land, were ordered to go out and buy NF (Nite Flite), and masturbate over it during a full moon, whilst thinking of England - thinking hard, of England. And the ability to ejaculate a perfect map of Great Britain comes as naturally to, and out of, National Front members, as piping a cream cake does to Nigella Lawson (NL)?
The icing on the cake - as soon as NF semen map of GB was dry, each member was ordered to deposit (disguise?) the record in a charity shop, amongst other second-hand records: a subversive method by which the records - complete with a secret, secreted map of Britain - are redistributed back into society. Remember, at this stage the all-white map would have been invisible on the record cover; it would have appeared nothing more than a crinkled patch of over-dry sky. This is where the sandpaper comes in. As the record is being slotted into place (between the other record-stock) a sheet of sandpaper is inserted between the back-cover of Nite Flite and the record immediately facing it. Time and motion does the rest: the constant thumbing (of the records, by the British public) – over time, bit by bit, county by county - reveals a vision of an all-white Britain: the pipedream-of an Arian cream-team; a land jerked and chafed into existence – the product of NF semen and sand. My copy of Nite Flite was an NF wet dream: now I know how Great Britain was made.

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