Keith Harrison: Yeezus! Stars align for great meetings with political minds

Rude.

'When I pull up in my Benz, get this b**** shaking like Parkinson's.'

Ok, rude and offensive.

'Black girl sippin' white wine, put my fist in her Civil Rights sign.'

Ahh, the full set; rude and offensive and violent.

So would you fix this man up with a) a psychiatrist or b) the President Elect?

Yes, I know. In a sane world, the answer is obvious.

But this is December 2016, the year we truly went through the Looking Glass – and mad haters rule the roost.

So, yay, Kanye West is the rude, offensive, violent lyricist courted by the 'great and the good'.

Donald Trump is soon to be President.

And I'm still praying for Jeremy Beadle to pop up.

Earlier this month, they had a meeting of minds in New York (Trump and West. Beadle wasn't about).

If you're under 40 you can fill in your own punchline here for what I think about this pair.

For those old enough to recall Rik Mayall, I reckon Alan B'Stard and The People's Poet would have talked more sense.

I've never understood celebrity endorsements for politicians.

Remember that whole Cool Britannia thing, with Noel Gallagher popping into Downing Street?

What was he supposed to be getting out of that? Duff suggestions for the third album? Gee, thanks, Tony.

But the Americans? Wow. They go big.

In the run-up to the election Hillary Clinton (remember her?) rolled out the biggest stars on the planet; Bruce Springsteen and Beyonce.

Two gazillionaires preaching to their fed-up working class fans to accept four more years of the same.

Can't think why that didn't work out.

Now, I yield to no man in my love for The Boss, but I can make my own mind up when it comes to voting, thanks very much.

As for Beyonce; who runs the world? Men.

Look around if you don't believe me, Queen Bey.

I'm not saying it's right, I'm just saying there's nothing your celebrity backside can really do about it.

Same with another Crooked Hillary (sorry, but it's stuck) supporter – Robert De Niro.

He's spent the past 20 years trashing his 1970's Scorcese legacy with lucrative roles in such cinematic wonders as Meet The Fokkers, Little Fokkers and, of course his finest recent work, Dirty Grandpa.

Hence Bob's not short of a few bob and inhabits a very different world from that of his 'blue collar' fans, taxi drivers and the like.

Is he talking to them?

Yes, there he was, coming over all Raging Bull and saying he wanted to punch Trump.

(Seeing as we're confessing violent urges, I've often wanted to punch you Robert, when I've seen your recent film choices. Read a script for once, ya schmuck!)

Over the years, I've met enough 'celebrities' to know that while many are nice enough people, some are thick as treacle.

And there's a weird snobbery that goes on with this cult of celebrity endorsement.

An actor is an actor is an actor, darling.

Are we supposed to take more note of Benedict Cumberbatch than Benny from Crossroads?

Why would people put greater emphasis on Russell Brand's advice than that of, say, the Chuckle Brothers?

Part of the reason why 2016 has been so politically and culturally seismic has been the shift in attitudes among the 'great unwashed' (that's you and me, to them) and those who place themselves somehow above us.

Sharp-eyed strategists, if such things exist, will have noted how Trump/Brexit triumphed partly because of their lack of establishment endorsements.

The media/celebrity circuit is almost entirely populated by those who view 'populism' (ie. What people outside London think) as a bad thing.

Any celebrities caught supporting 'the wrong side' risked career death once the verdict was delivered.

Similarly, only those with the right (ie left) leanings get a look-in on TV.

There's no-one to represent the Brexit-voting majority, just the same sad procession of smug TV-approved faces doing the rounds of unfunny, unpunny, panel shows, where the aim seems to be who can parade their right-on credentials loudest.

Imagine any BBC producer commissioning something by a right-of-centre TV comedian – again if such a thing existed.

It would be a moment of madness.

Speaking of which, Kanye West refers to himself as Yeezus, posed in a crown of thorns, accused George Bush of hating black people, did that whole Taylor Swift award thing, wrote a terrible song about Taylor Swift, thinks AIDS was a man-made disease, thinks crack was planted in black communities by the Government and calls himself the greatest living rock star on the planet (ha!).

Despite all this, those in the media bubble only began questioning his state of mind when he announced his support for Trump.

They should probably have checked his rap sheet first.