As evinced in the very name of our publication, THE GLORY WHORE takes an active interest in noting shining examples of sheer exhibitionism and tasteless self-sponsorship in all its forms. No stunt is too outrageous; no act too tawdry. And so, in the spirit of our profound appreciation for appallingly meretricious displays, we at the GW are proud to offer this humble tribute to the champions of exquisite vulgarity and ostentation: The Whorey.

Every month, we shall bestow the honourable distinction of The Whorey upon the most worthy recipient(s) who truly exemplify the fine traditions of obnoxious self-promotion and scandalous image-management. These pitiable demonstrations will be given particular commendation if they appear to be presented with complete sincerity. Nominations are not restricted to spectacles carried out during the given month, nor limited to those from the higher stratum of superstardom; although, they're the most prolific in their attention-seeking capacity. All performers at any time have equal opportunity to "shine in our showcase of shallowness and shame."

AND THE WHOREY GOES TO…

The first distinguished addressee, in what will eventually develop into an illustrious list of beneficiaries of the honour and prestige of the Whorey, is Sir Paul McCartney! McCartney's unwavering commitment to the tenets of Glory Whoredom goes way back and spans the Beatles era, the Wings extravaganza and the collaboration/litigation with Michael Jackson. The specific reason we award Paul has to do with his latest tour, in which he took unreserved advantage of the spur-of-the-moment performance tradition of the "encore".

This concert convention, the encore, has its origins in the early history of large-scale recitals; choral and operatic performances of centuries past, through to the cabaret/vaudeville age. To show the audience's overwhelming appreciation, at the programme's conclusion, would appeal to the star performer for a reprise of the favourite selection heard during the evening. There might even have been a call for a tune from another work that the artist was famous for.
The point is that the "encore" is not just an automatic, obvious extension of the evening's entertainment. It's unrehearsed and spontaneous in nature and that's the real thrill for the audience: the delight of the performer satisfying the audience's sincere cries for more, more, more. Paul McCartney appropriated and trampled this tradition by bidding his Toronto audience farewell, then promptly returning to the stage for an extemporised "encore" that consisted of a fifty-member drum corps! Was the audience to accept that there "just happened" to be a marching band hanging round backstage? And that Paul "happened" to have a suitable arrangement for such an ensemble in the event of an impromptu Mardi Gras! And as a last-minute kind of lark, ol' Paul thought it would be jolly-neat if they joined him on stage to create one hell of a lasting moment to send off the $400-ticket-holders? What luck! How charming, indeed!

Congratulations, Paul! You're an inspiration to aspiring exhibitionists everywhere. Most people of your elevated status would find it unnecessary to bolster their own celebrity so cheaply. It's good to see that, when it comes to shamelessly expanding your renown, you're not at all dissuaded by your decades in the spotlight, your vast masses of devotees nor your fabulous wealth. Kudos!

[Please note that this satire is in no way meant to disparage Mr. McCartney's significant contributions to popular music over the decades - but you must admit, the man's a serious, certifiable, make-no-mistake-about-it Glory Whore.]