This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/lostinshowbiz/2014/jul/17/magaluf-jeremy-kyle-pepper-spraying

The article has changed 3 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
How Magaluf took the moral high ground by pepper spraying Jeremy Kyle How Magaluf took the moral high ground by pepper spraying Jeremy Kyle
(about 1 hour later)
This week, Lost In Showbiz finds itself boggling at the latest news story to emerge from Magaluf. It thought that nothing could eclipse its previous favourite story from the benighted holiday resort, the revelation that a local campaign to stop "balcony incidents" – in which drunken British tourists fall while attempting to jump between hotel balconies – is fronted by 60s pop star Leapy Lee: without wishing to denigrate the efforts of the Little Arrows hitmaker in any way, Lost In Showbiz couldn't really get past the fact that his stage name seemed a little unfortunate under the circumstances. But even Leapy Lee's crusade is cast into the shadows by the saga of TV presenter-cum-human-bear-baiting-enthusiast Jeremy Kyle being pepper sprayed while attempting to film on the town's Punta Balena strip. This week, Lost In Showbiz finds itself boggling at the latest news story to emerge from Magaluf. It thought that nothing could eclipse its previous favourite story from the benighted holiday resort, the revelation that a local campaign to stop "balcony incidents" – in which drunken British tourists fall while attempting to jump between hotel balconies – is fronted by 60s pop star Leapy Lee. Without wishing to denigrate the efforts of the Little Arrows hitmaker in any way, Lost In Showbiz couldn't really get past the fact that his stage name seemed a little unfortunate under the circumstances. But even Leapy Lee's crusade is cast into the shadows by the saga of TV presenter-cum-human-bear-baiting-enthusiast Jeremy Kyle being pepper sprayed while attempting to film on the town's Punta Balena strip.
Lost In Showbiz must confess: there is almost nothing about this story that it doesn't like. It likes the idea of the editorial meeting at which Kyle's moral crusade to the Balearics was commissioned. The producer, clasping the phone ever-tighter as details of the degeneracy caught on a cameraphone pour into his ears. And then the strident call-to-arms, so easily misinterpreted by any eavesdropping passer-by: "Jeremy! There's a woman in Magaluf performing oral sex on men for the price of a drink! Pack your bags, we're going there tonight!" Lost in Showbiz must confess: there is almost nothing about this story that it doesn't like. It likes the idea of the editorial meeting at which Kyle's moral crusade to the Balearics was commissioned. The producer, clasping the phone ever-tighter as details of the degeneracy caught on a cameraphone pour into his ears. And then the strident call-to-arms, so easily misinterpreted by any eavesdropping passer-by: "Jeremy! There's a woman in Magaluf performing oral sex on men for the price of a drink! Pack your bags, we're going there tonight!"
It likes the tweets from Magaluf holidaymakers, which appeared to suggest that, on arrival, Kyle had taken to the Punta Balena strip, camera crew in tow, and begun doling out gratis advice regarding modesty of dress and sexual precautions to passing young tourists: "He told me to put shorts on," protested one holidaymaker. It likes to imagine the ensuing footage. The street-corner proselyte of decorum and respectability, swiftly engulfed by 19-year-olds deranged by sunburn, hormones and an excess of Toffee Apple Sourz, all suddenly possessed of the urge to frantically expose themselves and scream incoherent abuse. We live in a golden age of television, suffused with programmes of a depth and quality that cinema struggles to match, and yet Lost In Showbiz confesses, there's almost nothing it wants to watch more than Kyle's face, white-lipped with rage, vanishing behind a sea of bared buttocks and genitals, his message drowned out by a chorus of voices, their accents drawn from every corner of the British Isles, joining together to slur an obscene version of the chorus of Get Lucky.It likes the tweets from Magaluf holidaymakers, which appeared to suggest that, on arrival, Kyle had taken to the Punta Balena strip, camera crew in tow, and begun doling out gratis advice regarding modesty of dress and sexual precautions to passing young tourists: "He told me to put shorts on," protested one holidaymaker. It likes to imagine the ensuing footage. The street-corner proselyte of decorum and respectability, swiftly engulfed by 19-year-olds deranged by sunburn, hormones and an excess of Toffee Apple Sourz, all suddenly possessed of the urge to frantically expose themselves and scream incoherent abuse. We live in a golden age of television, suffused with programmes of a depth and quality that cinema struggles to match, and yet Lost In Showbiz confesses, there's almost nothing it wants to watch more than Kyle's face, white-lipped with rage, vanishing behind a sea of bared buttocks and genitals, his message drowned out by a chorus of voices, their accents drawn from every corner of the British Isles, joining together to slur an obscene version of the chorus of Get Lucky.
It likes the disparity between the ITV spokesperson's version of what happened on the fateful night, suggesting the pepper spray hadn't actually been intended for Kyle at all – "Jeremy was walking around the strip with his film crew on Friday night when someone in the busy crowd sprayed the spray above their heads … they decided to vacate the area to be on the safe side, as the spray was starting to have an effect on the eyes," – with that of the bouncer who claims he did it, a 40-year-old Romanian called Leon: "He was walking down the strip with a camera, making it look shit … I don't really care about him or what anyone does to him." In fact, Lost in Showbiz likes the cut of Leon the Romanian bouncer's jib immensely. It likes the fact that, incensed by bad publicity surrounding the resort – "I don't like that sort of publicity, it's been happening for a while and it's not the way to promote the place … you find lots of families here"– he appears to have come to the conclusion that the best way to improve the image of the resort overseas and reaffirm its family-friendliness is to launch a unprovoked, high-profile attack on a TV presenter with a substance banned for use in war under the Chemical Weapons Convention: yes, we decided it would be unsuitable to take our 10-year-old there when we saw the video of the woman fellating 24 men for a bottle of cava, but after we found out there was a bouncer on the main drag assaulting people with pepper spray we've completely reconsidered. And it likes the fact that he subsequently appears to have called the TV presenter "a crybaby", which, given that he'd sprayed him with a powerful lachrymatory agent designed to cause tears, pain and temporary blindness, does feel a bit like repeatedly stabbing someone in the throat then complaining that they've bled on your carpet. It likes the disparity between the ITV spokesperson's version of what happened on the fateful night, suggesting the pepper spray hadn't actually been intended for Kyle at all – "Jeremy was walking around the strip with his film crew on Friday night when someone in the busy crowd sprayed the spray above their heads … they decided to vacate the area to be on the safe side, as the spray was starting to have an effect on the eyes," – with that of the bouncer who claims he did it, a 40-year-old Romanian called Leon: "He was walking down the strip with a camera, making it look shit … I don't really care about him or what anyone does to him." In fact, Lost in Showbiz likes the cut of Leon the Romanian bouncer's jib immensely. It likes the fact that, incensed by bad publicity surrounding the resort – "I don't like that sort of publicity, it's been happening for a while and it's not the way to promote the place … you find lots of families here" – he appears to have come to the conclusion that the best way to improve the image of the resort overseas and reaffirm its family-friendliness is to launch a unprovoked, high-profile attack on a TV presenter with a substance banned for use in war under the Chemical Weapons Convention. Yes, we decided it would be unsuitable to take our 10-year-old there when we saw the video of the woman fellating 24 men for a bottle of cava, but after we found out there was a bouncer on the main drag assaulting people with pepper spray we've completely reconsidered. And it likes the fact that he subsequently appears to have called the TV presenter "a crybaby", which, given that he'd sprayed him with a powerful lachrymatory agent designed to cause tears, pain and temporary blindness, does feel a bit like repeatedly stabbing someone in the throat then complaining that they've bled on your carpet.
But most of all, it likes the way in which various news outlets reported the incident: the curiously equivocal tone many of them seemed to take, which made for an intriguingly marked contrast to say, the preceding days of hysterical outrage at the moral cesspit that Magaluf has become. It's almost as if they looked upon the actions of Leon the Bouncer not as an unprovoked assault upon a beloved TV presenter but the successful first stage in the resort's campaign to win back British hearts and minds. Yes, the binge-drinking may not be to everyone's tastes. Yes, the flower of our nation's womanhood may decamp there to despoil themselves for free booze. But look how the local residents react to seeing Kyle in the street: it can't be all bad out there. Perhaps if Leon the Bouncer can be inveigled into macing Robert Kilroy-Silk, all will be forgiven. But most of all, it likes the way in which various news outlets reported the incident: the curiously equivocal tone many of them seemed to take, which made for an intriguingly marked contrast to say, the preceding days of hysterical outrage at the moral cesspit that Magaluf has become. It's almost as if they looked upon the actions of Leon the Bouncer not as an unprovoked assault upon a beloved TV presenter but the successful first stage in the resort's campaign to win back British hearts and minds. Yes, the binge-drinking may not be to everyone's tastes. Yes, the flower of our nation's womanhood may decamp there to despoil themselves for free booze. But look how the local residents react to seeing Kyle in the street: it can't be all bad out there. Perhaps if Leon the Bouncer can be inveigled into macing Robert Kilroy-Silk, all will be forgiven.