在美国谐星压倒性地垄断了全球脱口秀大半壁江山的搞笑行当里，还有几枚来自英国的过江龙硕果仅存：老顽童Craig Furguson（苏格兰） ，当红炸子鸡James Gordon, 和我今天要重点介绍的摇滚谐星Russell Brand。
从一名瘾君子到娱乐巨星，Russell Brand这一路上滚过多少女人的身体，对自己的这种性泛滥，Russell Brand坦诚得近乎无耻：
I often query the significance of sexuality in my pursuit of success. Is the reappropriation ofbiological drive the engine of my ambition? Is that what's compelling me forward? What's getting me out ofbed in the morning? Back into bed at night? Is that what's keeping me in bed hour after hour with strangers, exchanging the baton of my lust as they pass beneath the sheets in the relay ofmy needs? Olympic promiscuity. The carnal flame forever burning.
这位情场浪子最终消停在美国歌星凯特佩莉的身旁。
在本书的页首他如此写道：
献给凯特，
这是我的过去。
你是我的为来。
（不愧是撩妹高手的语言啊！）
Russell Brand的外貌与造型，酷劲不输给任何一个重金属乐队的主音歌手：披肩长发，络腮胡子，蛤蟆墨镜，黑色皮裤，身上各种金属配饰没有一公斤也得有两磅，纹身更是不可或缺的标配。可是，别以为人家是流氓没文化。人家书扉页上和每一章节开篇引用的，可全是文坛名家语录：波德莱尔，约翰诺厄尔，卡夫卡，萨特，多萝茜帕克，齐泽克！
《Booky Wook 2》 是一本标题不知所云的书。但是，第一章一开始，他的文字已经令我惊艳：
Chapter 1
LIKE A ROLLING STONE
Fame was bequeathed to me by the lips of an angel. After all my years of rancid endeavour, I was granted fame by Kate Moss's kiss.
I was born to be famous, but it took decades for me to convey this entitlement to an indifferent world and suspicious job centres — both presumed me a nitwit, possibly with good reason as I was brilliantly disguised as a scruff-bag. Being anonymous was an inconvemence to me.
My well-meaning chum John Rogers would offer kindly, useless consolations— "Do you think you'll like fame? You won't be able to go to supermarkets!'
"Oh, please!" I mockingly responded. "No more supermarkets? Next you'll be telling me I'll be incessantly pestered by sex-thirsty harlots yearning to massage me out of my agony. That vainglorious sycophants will clamour to yawp odes of awe and wonder into my wealthy fizzog while fertile accolades and praise will avalanche the fields of my barren esteem, where now only bedraggled ravens hungrily drum the wretched dirt: I really wanted recognition.
这种行文风格颇有英伦范，与美国谐星那种大白话迴异其趣。他文如其人，有一种吊诡，颓废黑色的歌德韵味，还有一种另类的晦涩：
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse signify oncoming Armageddon, which must be awful for their confidence everywhere those dread riders canter they'll be greeted with shrieks and condemnation. Not even the most generous spinster will welcome Famine with a piece of Battenberg and a cuppa. No rosy-faced little match girl will leap into Pestilence's ragged arms, and Death will go to his grave (sent by whom, we'll have to ponder) without ever tasting the kiss of a willing debutante. Yet, like the Royals, the Horsemen continue their grim duty as living signs, harbingers. Harbinging like there's no tomorrow — and once they turn up there won't be.
The harbingers of my fame were far more glamorous and perhaps yet more iconic. These were the signifiers that my life sentence in the penitentiary of anonymity was, at last, coming to an end. first Horseman was Jonathan Ross, a moniker he'll welcome as it subtly alludes to his truly equine cockleberry. My appearance on the chat show Friday Night with Jonathan Ross in 2006 flung me into the orbit of celebrity from where I could gather momentum. It was also the commencement of my most notorious public friendship. For just three years later Jonathan and I were to become the Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid of broadcasting when, accidentally, we nearly destroyed the greatest public service institution on Earth, the BBC. When reflecting on monumental, life-defining events I marvel at the ineluctable journey that led to them. From the moment Jonathan and I met we were destined to share this extraordinary experience, so retrospectively the preceding events garner additional significance. Perhaps the scandal that we inadvertently conjured wasn't predestined.
浪子回头金不换。他用他对凯蒂佩里的爱来结束他的这本书：
The next night we went on our first date and she was so funny and pretty but more importantly she emits some gentle power that makes me want to be good. You'll think it frivolous of me to say I knew I'd marry her on that first date, but the truth is I fell in love with her when she hit me with that bottle. Like Cupid in a riot.
From the first date I changed. No more women. Well, actually, thousands of women. I wake up to a different one each day, but they're all her.
She's sleeping next to me now, tranquil and silently beguiling, it's impossible to ally her with the incandescent girl that blazes through the day. Her hand rests on her shoulder and I can see the ring I gave her when I asked her to marry me, at midnight on New Year's Eve in India, under a full moon, a blue moon. Once in a blue moon. She said yes. She chose me, bottled me and cuffed me. And now this is my life, my girl, this beautiful woman.
Just her and the revolution.
我希望他与凯蒂佩里能够像他的英伦前辈约翰列侬与小野洋子一样成为传奇。
还有，拜托下次别起个这么费解的书名好不好？