Elton John Spends a Scary Amount of Coolness Currency Date-Raping "Gnomeo and Juliet" into Existence

Despite whoring himself out to Rush Limbaugh for $1 million and not releasing a good album for a hundred years or so, Elton still has enough coolness currency left over from his seven consecutive number-one albums in the United States and putting the Pope in his fucking place to deserve his place in the sun.

Barely.

Where did he spend all this coolness in such a hurry? On this giant smelly turd:

For those of you not in the know, this regrettable project has regrettably been in development for an eternity. Many, many years ago somebody got stoned at one of Elton John's castles (probably) and he became fixated on the idea of doing a version of Romeo & Juliet with animated gnomes--for which he, of course, would do the music and win another Oscar/Grammy/knighthood.

Flush with coolness, Elton had no problem forcing the project onto Disney Feature Animation while it was roofied on the couch in his pool house, but when Disney bought Pixar (in order to release good movies again--SNAP) John Lasseter greatly increased his own coolness reserves by calling a turd a turd and kicking Gnomeo out the back door without so much as a how's-your-father.

Say "Ahhhh" Harvey. And yes, Bob--you can watch.

So Elton did what anybody in his enviable position would do--he climbed up on Harvey Weinstein's solid-diamond desk and shoved good-ole Gnomeo down Miramax's throat with ease. After all, Elton still had plenty of coolness left to spend [More than one could ever spend in a lifetime. We think. -Ed.] and he was not going to let this brilliant idea die on the vine, goddamnit!

But then Miramax never woke up from the Gnomeo-induced coma, went bankrupt, and the project was dead and buried...until a recent full moon, when that zombie climbed out of the grave, walked over to Burbank incredibly slowly, and put the blocks to Disney's Touchstone Pictures while it was on acid and totally distracted by some water dripping out of a faucet.

Starring the voices of every whore who can do a British accent (sorry, Gwyneth!)

And so now here we are--unrecyclable Gnomeo & Juliet ads coat the town and a bunch of stupid gnomes will grace silver screens all over the country on February 11th. [Bad movie junkies should wait until said gnomes are available for much, much less at Big Lots starting February 12th. -Ed.]

How bad is this movie? Well, let's just say it has NINE credited writers (plus the Bard himself) and that is never a good thing. There were probably, what, fifteen writers who didn't want their names anywhere near this slithering turd that vomited thousand-pound notes all over Hollywood for 15 years?

But that doesn't matter because Elton is happy. He still has just enough coolness currency to skip to the front of the line at Starbucks, he sold the same movie at least three times, he got to be Executive Producer and do the music, his boo (David Furnish) got to be a producer, and some poor team of handsome young PAs got to be fondled while managing Elton's treasured bobblehead collection.

The bottom line here is that if Elton John doesn't become President of Haiti and clothe the entire nation in sequined jumpsuits and velour top hats for a fast-motion, single-take-helicopter-shot music video within the next couple years he might not only have to forfeit his spot in Princess Diana's tomb, but I might also have to leave him off my Christmas card list and get in on some of this Bieber Fever action that's been going around...

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If there was ever a wedding to nuke...

That hearing aid practically gets her off by itself. You should try it sometime.

It was Rush Limbaugh's recent embarrassingly expensive wedding to his fourth wife:

...according to a News Corporation wire report, the Rocket Man, 63, serenaded the 400 guests into the wee hours Saturday night to celebrate the marriage of Limbaugh, 59, to Kathryn Rogers, 33, in the Ponce de Leon ballroom of Florida's fabled Breakers hotel in Palm Beach. Sir Elton's fee: $1 million, the report notes.

Amid dozens of giant bouquets of white roses (and very tight security), reports the Palm Beach Post, guests at the wedding included former Bush adviser Karl Rove; actor-politician Fred Thompson; former Kansas City Royals slugger George Brett; Fox News commentator Sean Hannity; former New York City Mayor Rudolph Giuliani; New England Patriots owner Bob Kraft; former Clinton adviser James Carville and his wife, GOP analyst Mary Matalin; and golfer Tom Watson. A wedding guest also tells PEOPLE that among the others was Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas.

I Mean...He COULD Have Been, Right? It's Not Like He Ever Had Sex With a Woman. Or Did He? Wait, Are You Avoiding the Question? Hello?

Perhaps as a return blow for being conspicuously absent on the Pope's list of the Ten Best Pop Albums of All Time, Elton John let him have it this week:

"I think Jesus was a compassionate, super-intelligent gay man who understood human problems," John said in an interview posted on the website of US celebrity news magazine Parade.

"On the cross, he forgave the people who crucified him. Jesus wanted us to be loving and forgiving. I don't know what makes people so cruel. Try being a gay woman in the Middle East -- you're as good as dead," said John, who is gay.

(courtesy Yahoo News/AFP)

The Pope responded with a brief comment uttered between naps on the expansive veranda of his opulent palace in Rome:

"You're probably right."

Kidding. The Pope didn't even realize Elton said this because his ears were inadvertently blocked for days when an avalanche of gold coins nearly buried him alive after a retaining wall in one of his numerous vaults gave way under the obscene load of charitable donations to the Catholic cause.

When staffers went to check on him during their weekly rounds and realized what had happened, they quickly rescued His Supreme Excellency, Ruler of Earth, from the eminently-avoidable catastrophe, but chose not to inform him of Sir Elton John's inflammatory speculation, lest their figurehead have a heart attack, which would necessitate another pesky search for a replacement bag of bones. Besides, why dignify that comment with a response, right? Right?

The Catholic League (the largest U.S. Catholic rights group, which, let's be frank, only exists because, goddamnit, the Catholic Church just can't get a fucking break...), however, was quick to respond:

"Jesus was certainly compassionate, but to say he was 'super-intelligent' is to compare the son of God to a successful game-show contestant," league president Bill Donohue said in a statement.

"More seriously, to call Jesus a homosexual is to label him a sexual deviant. But what else would we expect from a man who previously said, 'From my point of view, I would ban religion completely'?"

Huh. So...Jesus was not super-intelligent? Was he just 'kind of smart-ish, but regular' so as not to offend potential followers, who seem to only be drawn to the dumbest figureheads you can think of (Sarah Palin? Pat Robertson? Mitt Romney? George Bush?).

Also, "ban religion completely?" Did I need another reason to love this guy? No. Do I have one? Yes.

Long live the real King of Pop!

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Dick James

(photo by Goodtime Charlie - Caesar's Palace, LV, NV)

Eureka!

I have finally discovered the link between Lennon/McCartney and Elton John/Bernie Taupin, two of the greatest musical partnerships the world has ever known.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Dick James, courtesy of wikipedia:

Early Life

He was born in the East End of London.

Early days

James sang with North London dance bands in his early teens, and was a regular vocalist at the Cricklewood Palais by the age of seventeen. He joined the Henry Hall band, and made first radio broadcast in 1940. Joining the Army in 1942, after World Was II he continued to sing with top post-war bands, including Geraldo's. Later still, James was also a part time member of The Stargazers, a popular early 1950s vocal group.

He was the singer of the Robin Hood and The Buccaneers theme songs, from British television in the 1950s, and was a friend and associate of renowned record producer George Martin.

Switch to publishing

James entered the music publishing business as his singing career tapered off, and in 1963 established Northern Songs Ltd., with Beatles John Lennon and Paul McCartney, to publish Lennon and McCartney's original songs. (Fellow Beatles George Harrison and Ringo Starr were also signed to Northern Songs as songwriters, but did not renew their contracts in 1968). James's company, DIck James Music, administered Northern Songs.

What initially began as an amicable working relationship between the Beatles and James disintegrated by the late 1960s; the Beatles considered that James had betrayed and taken advantage of them when he sold Northern Songs in 1969 without offering the band an opportunity to buy control of the publishing company. James profited handsomely from the sale of Northern Songs, but the Beatles never again had the rights to their own songs.

During the 1960s he also handled Billy J. Kramer and Gerry & The Pacemakers.

Later Days

James signed Elton John and his lyricist Bernie Taupin as untried unknowns in 1967, and formed DJM Records in '69. Indeed, all of John's early releases (up to 1976) were issued on the DJM record label. The label also carried Jasper Carrott, RAH Band, and even John Inman.

John formed his own Rocket label in 1976, but in 1982, John was involved in a long court case with James about royalties.

Death

James died of an heart attack in early 1986, at the age of 65.

Dick James, the leftmost of the two dorks in this photo

The guy sounds like he was probably a real asshole, but according to a story that I read once, he got Elton John and Bernie Taupin together via a classified ad, so ya gotta at least give him credit for that oh-so-perfect marriage of poet and musician.

Speaking of Elton John, he may not have handled his balding, age, or gayness as well as he should have and currently resembles a fat, depressed, androgynous penguin, but the guy used to be pretty cool:






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Speaking of Bobblehead Dolls...

As much as I love him--and that's more than you can ever know, since you cannot even begin to understand the depth of our love--let it be known that Elton John travels with a large rolling road case full of assorted bobblehead dolls he has collected over the years.

When Elton's in town for a show--in this case an elaborate corporate 'birthday event' (he whores himself out at more private events than you would care to know, more than Jeremy Piven even!)--an 'attractive, young male P.A.' is chosen as liason between Elton's traveling crew and the local production team.


One of this sexyman's responsibilities is to arrange Elton's 100+ bobblehead dolls around the television set in his room backstage. This TV must be hooked up to a satellite system that broadcasts Atlanta Braves games, because Elton has for some reason lived in Atlanta for quite some time now, and has become probably the only British baseball fan in the world.

The bobblehead dolls are all to be arranged facing the couch.

Do you think you've been too famous for too long when you begin to need an audience to watch TV?