Passionate Plea Bargain

November 2008

Ah, passion! That simple word that has brought giants of men to their knees, has made blubbering fools of kings, has changed the world more than any army ever did.

It is the raw emotion that locked Anthony and Cleopatra into a suicidal spiral that changed the course of history.

That led Romeo and Juliet into a star-crossed tangle and onwards to disaster.

That caused the deluded painter Vincent Van Gogh to cut off his own ear.

That falsely inveigled Othello into a mad rage to kill the woman he loved.

That prompted Tom Cruise to jump up and down on Oprah Winfrey’s sofa, thereby, no doubt, breaking a couple of springs. Cruise was at that time declaring his passion for Katie Holmes, and has never lived down his impromptu trampolining act. Yes, passion makes fools of all of us.

Two cases arose recently which highlight the treacherous paths down which unbridled passion can lead the unwary. Number one was in Marseille, France, where a woman art lover, Sam Rindy, is on trial accused of damaging a $2 million painting by kissing it. The court heard that the Cambodian-born artist was “overcome by passion” at the beauty of the work by American painter Cy Twombly.

“She was overcome by emotion that she could not tame,” pleaded her lawyer.

Unfortunately, at the time of the dastardly deed, Rindy forgot to take into account the fact that she was wearing red lipstick. So the serene, white, untitled painting now has a bright red smackerooni indelibly printed on it.

The owner of the picture is claiming $2 million in damages and is also demanding the court fine her $6,500. At the time of writing the court had still to reach its verdict. The argument raged on…

“An act of savagery,” thundered the prosecution. “No, it was an act of love,” claimed the defence.

“In love, there need to be two consenting people,” countered the prosecution.

Somehow, I think philosophers will be debating that one until the end of time...

The second case to arise involves BBC presenter and DJ Andy Kershaw, who has just been given a three month jail sentence, suspended for 18 months, for causing a rumpus at his ex-partner’s new home.

The 47-year-old cult DJ, internationally known for his promoting of world music, turned up at the home of Juliette Banner, his partner of 17 years and mother of their two children, in a drunken rage and challenged her new partner to a fight.

Kershaw, who had already spent six nights behind bars for breaching a restraining order keeping him away from Banner, left in tears without the promised fight. His lawyer, describing Kershaw as one of the most influential broadcasters of his age, told the court: “Ms Banner left him and started another relationship. He was heartbroken.”

He should see his doctor immediately. For British scientists claim to have evidence, after all, you can die of a broken heart. It has been the stuff of great romantic novels, blockbuster movies and tear-strewn poetry, but let’s face it, we never really took it seriously, did we?

But a study reported in the professional journal Archives of Internal Medicine indicates that stressful relationships can increase the likelihood of a heart attack by as much as 34 per cent. It took them 12 years of studying 9,000 people to reach their conclusions. But forgive me if I appear a bit cynical about the result.

In the small print it reveals just who were these 9,000 romantic guinea pigs. Did they perchance include lovelorn poets? Nope. Maybe a sprinkling of over- emotional, weeping thespians? Not a single one. The odd one-eared painter? No chance. How about a celebrity chef then? Not even that.

Instead, the researchers turned to those outlandish, Bohemian, devil-may-care social misfits…the country’s civil servants. Yes, 9,000 pen pushers and bean counters were quizzed about their relationships between 1985 and 1988 and between 1989 and 1990.

Somehow I don’t think they would have uncovered very many tempestuous affairs. I ask you – when was the last time you saw a Social Services clerk alone and palely loitering? In my experience of civil servants, their idea of reckless, gay abandonment was eating their “After Eight” mint at seven-fifty-five.

The worrying thing is that if they uncovered a whopping 34 per cent heart attack risk among the civil servants, what’s the chance for those of us in the fast lane? Start chilling out now, guys.

The trouble with passion, though, is that like everything else these days it runs on batteries. They run down, and that’s the end of it. Unless, of course, you have the rechargeable kind. But when passion dies it is not a pretty sight. Just look at some of the high profile divorce wrangles around at the moment.

Former Beatle Sir Paul McCartney and his wife Heather Mills McCartney have been involved in a mud-slinging show that has grabbed headlines around the world. The nit-picking and pettiness has been astounding. Sir Paul once declared his grand passion for Heather, calling her among other things “generous.” Now, he has been reduced to sending her a threatening letter through his lawyer complaining that she removed three bottles of cleaning fluid from his home. The brazen hussy! Multi, multi, multi-millionaire Paul must feel really aggrieved about the loss of his bleach. But how sad that such a great passion should end up as a tawdry case of Domestos strife.

Across the Atlantic two high-priced divorces are shaking the US and Canada. It used to be that in marital splits that the main considerations were who gets the kids, and who gets custody of the Carpenters records. But for the super rich the wrangling involves priceless paintings including Picassos, Matisses and Constables. Innocent works of art dragged through the courts like so many chattels. Honestly, it’s enough to make you want to chop your ear off.

In New York, billionaire Ron Perelman, the Revlon takeover king, and his fourth wife, the Hollywood actress Ellen Barkin, have been involved in splitting an estate that includes works by Matisse, Picasso, Miro and De Kooning.

And in Canada David Thompson, son of media baron Lord Thompson (estimated fortune $19 billion) and his wife Laurie are at loggerheads over an estate including Turners, Picassos, Rothikos and what is judged to be the world’s best private collection of Constables (prints).

In the divorce papers David accuses Laurie of “threatening a Paul Klee and harming a Constable.” Beats nicking a couple of bottles of bleach any day.

Truly, when passion fades and dies the collateral

damage is immense. But could you imagine a life without passion? Scientists at Cambridge University in England have discovered that a microscopic organism has thrived for 40 million years while remaining celibate.

Reproduction without sexual relations has allowed duplicate gene copies of the creatures – called bdelloid rotifers – to become different over time. It is a very efficient life form.

Says molecular biologist Alan Tunnacliffe: “When you come across an organism like the bdelloid, which hasn’t engaged in sexual reproduction for tens of millions of years, you begin to question why sex is important…”

That may be so, Mr. Scientist. But passion – that’s a different ball game altogether!