I first felt the influence of Malcolm McLaren when I was in Junior school (London). Adam and the Ants had just released 'Kings of the wild frontier' and a small group of boys were huddled in the corner of the classroom with the album. One of the smartest and coolest kids in the class fought his way into the middle of the scrum and pulled out of his bag an album that was to change my life forever 'The Great Rock n Roll Swindle' was unveiled and a self defining moment of existence was experienced. When the double album cover was opened it was probably the first time any of us had seen a nude girl, the classroom erupted as we pushed, shoved, punched and kicked each other trying to glimpse the forbidden, we were like wolves attacking the dead Bambi for its meat….it was complete chaos, the teacher went ballistic and the album was confiscated. To this day, I cannot listen to the album without it turning me into some demonic feral monster as I wildly jump around shouting along with music, such is the power of its concept.

In another part of the country, my future wife to be, and collaborating partner in crime/artist, was roaming the countryside as a young Devonshire girl, poking cow pats with a stick to see what would happen. She too would later fall under the combustable and toxic influence of Malcolm McLaren.

Malcolm McLaren almost got lynched on TV (The Baron) by dividing opinion and attacking a society’s core values with taboos. In his final election speech in his bid to become Baron, he goaded the crowd with an infamous statement ‘Don’t you know Jesus Christ is a sausage?’ McLaren’s wit and wisdom of agitated declarations and contrived statements set out to bait the conditioning of the community.

Previously in a Phillippo and Philliippo exhibition entitled ‘You don’t deserve an explanation’ we determine if the potency of McLaren's outrageous sexual ramblings and lewd inferred icons could have a similar destabilising effect within a closed community. The Polish sausage becomes the icon, the natural replacement for the cross, symbolic of a mass-produced, over-processed, high-octane ‘me’ generation. A fetish/phallic icon can be seen as a discarded remnant from a festival or rave. An unsightly turd on a lawn waiting for an unsuspecting puritanical mind to accidentally step on it. ‘You don’t deserve an explanation’, the exhibition, only lasted 15 minutes, when it was due to run for one month. The Bar Manager was forced to take the exhibition down from the public bar when patrons demanded its removal. Their reasons were:
1. It was not art because it was photographic

2. Art should not cost more than £50 

3. The title of the exhibition was a personal insult to their intelligence

4. That although they were broad minded themselves, they deemed the content of the statements, in particular the word ‘inbred’ would offend the ethnic minority
5. They were suspicious of the iconic symbol and did not know what to make of it.

To summarise:

Malcolm McLaren: A satirical situationist who agitated a stagnant society with 240v of Sooty and Sweep skulduggery. He made it his business to perfect being the professional Cunt.

'It's Cunts like me, who make pricks like you stand on end'