DE DISCLAIMERORUM POLICIA

Disclaimers are all alike and they bore me to death. Sorry for this if I do that, and don't hold me responsible for this because of that. SLOW, STOP, YIELD, DO NOT ENTER and SPEED LIMIT, that's all they mean to me - with one difference, you've still got the right to own a car and hit the road providing you show some respect to the highway code, whereas on the Net, you'd better close down your site and stay in bed, because you're trampling on somebody's rights as soon as you edit a picture or a sound, and you're hurting someone's feelings as soon as you feature an analysis or a quote. Yeah, disclaimers are a pain in the ass, but I suppose they are unavoidable, and even necessary.

And so we went down to see Mr Shadgrind, the well known lawyer of Splitting Heirs fame, and asked him for legal advice. What could we possibly write about Mr Idle without running the risk to be sued ? "Poems", Mr Shadgrind said. "Providing you let aside all of the words he used in his works, and all of those he used in the others'." Well... Could we at least publish our own pictures of him from our video card, then ? "Nah", Mr Shadgrind said. "They'd still come from a copyrighted work and belong to some producer or some TV channel." Oh... And what about the songs ? Surely, thirty seconds of... "Don't !" Mr Shadgrind cried. "They're getting hysterical about the mp3's nowadays, and I've seen people sued for a little excerpt of some Czech public domain music."

We left with our hearts at an all time low. However, moved by our disappointment, the good lawyer had a change of heart and came back to meet us later on : "Well, there IS something you can do to free yourselves from the drudgery. First, I can look for all of Mr Idle's producers, agents, copyright buyers and representatives... And they can have... well, you know... an accident... Then, I can find the other remaining Pythons... And they can have... well, accidents will happen, you know... At last, to make things quite safe, I can spot Mr Idle himself... And, unfortunately, he... "

We hastily thanked excellent Mr Shadgrind for his help and swore that now everything was clear and easy to us, and that we wouldn't need his services after all, and would he be kind enough to accept this vast amount of money as a token of our full and entire satisfaction and let us mind our own business from now on ?

He would. Phew !...

Our wallets were now lighter, but our concern just as heavy. So, Mrs Conclusion said : "Oh, sod it ! There's the Pythons' position clearly summed up in AFMP's FAQ. What's the point to look any further ?"

While the Python London Office is not thrilled by the idea of freely distributed scripts available online, we have worked out a deal. They have offered not to raise a legal stink about it as long as we direct people to the published versions of the material. They also ask that we encourage people to buy the book versions of the scripts if they are planning on downloading a significant quantity of scripts.
What the Python London Office asks is certainly more than reasonable. It's only normal that they should expect us, a group of Python fans, to honor the royalties paid to the members of the troupe through sales of their officially published works.

"See ?", Mrs Conclusion went on. "They don't mind. We can loot it all, and then add "BUY IT" placards everywhere."

"Awesome !", Mrs Premise cried. "Dear wonderful Eric never went for ridiculous censorship anyway, and he's certainly no legal sadist to say the least. Just look at what he wrote on PythOnline after all this crazy Dysson Cult shit :

Not being a highly litigious person I have decided to forgive, and not indulge in any of the many elaborate revenges suggested by some of you.

"See ?", Mrs Premise went on. "Eric is God ! We can sin to our hearts' content, and then add "FORGIVE US" placards everywhere !"

Of course, I wasn't, and still am not, so sure that it was that simple. Even with these indications, many a question were left unanswered : what with the official material belonging to others than the Pythons ? what with unofficial but copyrighted material ? what with previously published, now deleted material ? But I'm afraid I'll have to leave things like that, for I'm now out of resources.

So, dear fans, BUY IT. Dear Mr Idle, FORGIVE US. And unwelcome but still existing showbiz persons, HAVE A HEART. Or PISS OFF.

Mrs Peignoir

STARA DEMOLENDA EST

The way a Star considers his Fans, the way society influences their relationship, are things that, to my knowledge, have never been studied. The remarks below are thus quite empirical, but helpful in positioning one particular Star, Mr Idle, in the infinite sky where they're all twinkling.

The Beatles were the first Stars to stand up as subjects against their management, at a time when they were "nothing" and still refused to cover Mitch Murray's How do you do it to impose their own Love me do. Later on, John Lennon was probably the first Star to give himself as an object to his Fans, first by his nude (i.e. weaponless) happenings, then by his incredible, undomitable will to rip each and every one of his Star masks to shreds. After him, the progressive and punk movements both contributed to further demolition of the Star status, Prog Rock by making up the Artist, Punk Rock by merely killing the Star (like in the Stranglers' No more heroes). Nowadays, techno dominates the scene. It's anonymous. Nowaydays, technology dominates the world. It's everybody's.

Enter Eric Idle.

Coming from a cult group never known for having wanted nor made Marc Bolan-like headlines, and being a jester by profession, Mr Idle first adopted Monty Python's outlook on the Star King archetype : skeptical and bemused, in one word, distant. Well, it's the well known story of Michael Palin having a Fan fainting in his arms and crying out in desperation : " What do I do now ?". Likewise, in MP's 20th Anniversary video, we can see a bewildered Mr Idle laconically commenting on a rather embarrassing performance of The lumberjack song by a bunch of fundamentalist fans : "They must be slightly mad !"

We can nevertheless notice that what seemed to be a purely emotional reaction from Mr Palin is a firmly grounded opinion as regards Mr Idle. All along his career, discreet hints can be found of his intellectual modesty. On the sleeve of MP Instant Record Collection, here are the liner notes he writes about himself in the article entitled Where are they now ? : Eric has left Marks and Spencers and has gone to America on an exchange scheme. But he still remembers his English fans every Christmas, and sends a big "Hello" to them both. True, his evaluation of his own fame has now improved, since he writes in his introduction to his Exploits Monty Python Tour : Although rumors of a Python reunion have been rife since 1431, this is the first definite appearance of a pythonic stage show and is eagerly awaited by twelve fans and a goat. But really, it's the narrator from The Road to Mars who says it all, right from page 4 : Stars ! I mean hello. Have we no sense of irony ? Look up - look up at the real stars. Billions of them ? Billions and billions of the buggers. Don't we get it ? There is no fame.

Modesty.

Intellectual modesty.

Because, on the other hand, when he says "Stars !", he ALSO means "Hello". Eric Idle is the one Python who's always been irresistibly attracted towards the real stars. The biggest stars. His name was associated to David Bowie, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Paul Simon. George Harrison is among his closest and best friends. He hangs around Beverly Hills and lives in California.He wrote The Rutles, and remains particularly fond of this spoof where he plays a parallel Paul Mac Cartney. Don't we get it ? There is no fame, and Mr Idle loves it. Mr Idle loves fame, but there's no such thing. Mr Idle played Dirk Mac Quickly AND the reporter/sociologist, the reporter/sociologist AND Dirk Mac Quickly. But he's neither of them. Where does he stand ? Where do the Fans stand for him ? Is he that different from a Fan ? Are the Fans that different from him ?

I think it's from this particular tension, and its inherent dialectics, that PythOnline was born, and that Eric Idle became its Webmaster, and progressively acknowledged as "the Python who cares the most about his fans", as Hans ten Cate rightly put it. I witnessed PythOnline's very rich hours, but, unfortunately, I was then only acquiring the taste to the mysteries of the Web, and so I failed to record all that went on between Mr Idle and the Fans - who were less Fans than surfers, while Mr Idle was less Idle and more "Eric", as he used to sign his posts. It's a great pity, and I'm banking on this site to help me get some documents from this period, courtesy of Fans who might have been quicker to get the picture. Anyway ! I remember how friendly and equal in silliness we were all, and how shortened became the distance between us and "Eric".

It was not a problem any more to wish upon a Star. An admirer of Einstein's, Mr Idle had discovered hyperspace.

FIAT CATHEDRALA !

The fact that "Fan" is short for "fanatic" shows obviously enough the religious origin of the concept, tied with its original stain of harmless intolerance and childish adoration. Strangely, there is no symetry on that one : otherwise, the "Star" would be called a "Goddy", or something like that. Let's then get rid right away of the misogynist outlook induced by vocabulary, and rather regard the Fan as a small worshipper of a small god in a world where God is dead (like a modern man or a parent), and as an archaic beholder of a cosmic wonder in a world where God is not yet born (like a primitive man or an infant).

This constitutes the Fan as partly a mother, and partly a baby to her Star. The most honest among the Stars have no difficulty admitting the first proposition (the narrator from The Road to Mars, again, stating that a kid and his inner "Look at me, Ma !" yell are what fame is really all about, in the continuity of John Lennon's Mother and I found out.) And the most honest among the Fans generally agree that they fancy themselves as little ones building their own personalites after their parent Star's (clothes, hairdos, wanting to marry him, wanting to have a baby by him). None wants to play the parent's part yet, to say nothing of a hypothetical grown up part, and so the Star and the Fan generally meet through their needs rather than through whatever they have to give. Whence this Tragical History Tour named the Beatles Story.

Enter "Mrs Idle".

I first read this name in the credits at the end of Monty Python's Flying Circus, among those of the people who used to occasionally give the crew a hand, like Carol Cleveland or Ian Davidson. I knew she was bound to be some relation to "Eric Idle", but was "Mrs Idle" his mother or his wife ? My ignorance lingered on long enough to stir my imagination, and when I finally knew, I wondered why she hadn't been credited as "Lyn Idle", or even "Lyn Ashley", like she was to be later in Rutland Weekend TV, and like Connie Booth had been right from the start. And I chose to become Mr Idle's archetypal "Mrs Idle" : this nick made me his undecided Mother/Wife, while remaining this obnoxious girlie insisting on expelling the real life missus from her legal title. My own Fan Trinity was born.

But such alienations, common to the Star and the Fan, have also changed, or are changing, or can be changed, through democratization. Everybody's a dreamer, everybody's a star was the first line to the Kinks' Celluloid Heroes, and Only juke-box music, one of their wise warnings to the above girlie lost in her dream. Mr Idle did his bit with PythOnline, and still occasionnally scratches the Star in his way, by selling his own concert tickets for example, like he did in Chicago, or by punkly replacing "sings" by "exploits" in the name of his tour. This site is a reply from a Total Fan to a Total Star.

"Mrs Idle" has split into her three selves/characters. Two of them are "researchers", that is, looking for impossible peace and completion through their magical and painful idea of their Star : Mrs Premise, the Baby/Primitive Man/Traditional Fan, wants to collect every single audible/edible/visual trace left by Mr Idle, foolishly convinced that one day she'll get all of them, even more foolishly persuaded that all of them will give her Mr Idle, and stark raving madly thinking that possessing Mr Idle will bring her happiness. Mrs Conclusion (child to Mrs Premise as child is father to the man), the Mother/Modern Man/Feminist Fan, wants to study, think and interpret endlessly on this unfinished collection, foolishly convinced that one day she'll be ultimately right, even more foolishly persuaded that being right will give her a grip on Mr Idle, and stark raving madly thinking that having contrived to reinvent Mr Idle will bring her herself.

And then there's Mrs Peignoir, the Grown Up/Utopia Man/Loving Fan, who looks behind and over the shoulders of these poor souls, guessing that to love is to look, assuming there's a kind of John Lennon's Look at me, what am I supposed to be ? and Velvet Underground's I'll be your mirror dialogue going on between a Star and a Fan, and smiling to keep seriousness from tragedy, and silliness from seriousness.

"Which of these characters is closest to the real you ?" Well, this question was asked to Mr Idle. And Mr Idle is an actor, and he answered : "None".

Make mine the same, please.

Mrs Idle