A Christmas Letter to Mr Bob Geldof

Dear Mr Geldof

A merry yuletide season to you!!

I am sure you share my continuing surprise regarding the fortunes of much of the African Continent. It would seem that despite your best efforts over the past 20 odd years the fortunes of this blighted continent have not appeared to rise in parallel to your own. I am sure that your consternation matches mine in this matter.

Ever since you were catapulted into obscurity following your all too short period of fame with the popular beat-combo “the Boom Town Rats” (and who can ever forget that one famous song you did?) you have worked tirelessly to publicise the cause of the continent and it’s people, no doubt to the detriment of your career. Who knows how big “the Rats” could have one day become had you not chosen your selfless path? You may even perhaps one day have played to “sold out” audiences in medium sized industrial towns and other dizzying heights of rock and roll fame.

Instead of this you selflessly turned your back on all this glory just to help other people. I admire you Mr Geldof, I really do. Yet, at the same time I worry so much about you too. I still see you on TV, with your wild ragged hair and crumpled linen suits, shouting incoherently at the camera like some kind of filthy Eurotrash tramp. Are you taking on too much work? Perhaps next year you could let someone else arrange any concerts you are planning to “raise awareness” of any one of the seemingly endless good causes you have attached yourself to. My only regret is that you might not continue to be the familiar happy, charming face that I so readily identify with “Celebrity Charity Events” and other such fine works.

Your philanthropy and sacrifice takes my breath away. How much must you despise the trappings that your estimated £30 million wealth could purchase for you? I imagine your every waking moment is consumed with grief and regret that those poor, poor people in Africa are not themselves living quite comfortably in a big fucking house in Davington like yourself.

I must be awful for someone like you, someone who, by a cursory appraisal of their public image at least, is so clearly just some kind hippy at heart and obviously not some kind of capitalist, opportunistic, swindling scoundrel who has quite clearly realised he has got himself onto a good thing and just can’t help himself from feeding on it like a pig at a fucking trough.

Also, on an unrelated but niggling note, could I point out an inconsistency with your famous “Band Aid” song, specifically the lyrics “There won’t be snow in Africa this Christmastime”. Might In point you towards a novella written by the celebrated author Mr Ernest Hemingway called “The Snows of Kilimanjaro”. I think you may find many parts of Africa are shrouded in snow almost constantly…

But that doesn’t fucking rhyme very well does it?

Yours sincerely (and a merry Christmas!)

Fat Edgar

P.S. Yes, I do think you are a cunt.