Sicko artist, David Hockney, used to have a crush on wrinkly Christian singer, Cliff Richard.
He was so besotted with Cliff that he drew a pathetic picture entitled ‘Doll Boy’ to show his love.
According to Hockney:
” Doll Boy was a reference to the pop singer Cliff Richard, who was very attractive, very sexy. I’m not a great pop music fan, I wasn’t then and I’m not now. But I’m a lover of music and a lover of songs and I like singing. Cliff Richard was a very popular singer and I used to cut out photographs of him from newspapers and magazines and stick them up around my little cubicle at the Royal College of Art, partly because other people used to stick up girl pin-ups, and I thought, I’m not going to do that, can’t do that, and there’s something just as sexy, and I stuck them up. He had a song in which the words were, ‘She’s a real live walking talking living doll’ [sic], and he sang it rather sexily. The title of this painting is based on that line. He’s referring to some girl, so I changed it to a boy.”
He then went on to produce yet another painting this time showing himself canoodling with Cliff called ” We Two Boys Together Clinging“.
Cliff has recently been the subject of child-abuse allegations.
Jimmy Savile was a big fan of the boy scouts and by a strange coincidence so are both Cliff and Hockney.
Some claim the scouts are a paedophile-infested organisation, deliberately set-up to provide a steady stream of boys to be abused.
David Hockney was a staunch defender of paedophile painter Graham Ovenden and believes that artists should be allowed to work with nude children.
Ovenden’s work was admired by scum-of-the-earth Lord McAlpine.
Despite claims to the contrary McAlpine did not die earlier this year but is in fact in a secret hideaway, bricking himself that he’s about to be discovered.
In March 2013, Dominic Elliott, died at the Bridlington home of David Hockney.
The media claimed he was Hockney’s assistant but he had been strangely ‘befriended’ by the painter at 15 years of age.
Dominic used to be a normal, rugby-loving lad but appears to have been groomed and corrupted by Hockney and his partner John Fitzherbert.
The night of the death is shrouded with mystery and initial reports that there were no natural causes was soon replaced with lurid headlines that Dominic died after swallowing toilet cleaner and was a heavy drugs user.
This is the same crap used against Peaches Geldof when she was found dead in similar circumstances.
(Cliff Richard was also implicated in the unsolved murder of Jill Dando and was questioned several times by investigating officers.)
David Hockney ran away to Los Angeles soon after the incident and according to the Mail, Dominic Elliot’s young reputation ‘was sacrificed to save the artist’
In a macabre twist, Tom from the BA blog made the following statement about Hockney:
” not to diminish the tragedy of this young boy’s demise; but the past eerily catches up to the present, when chillingly, I am reminded of a late summer weekend, some 25 years ago in East Hampton, and learned from dear sweet David a lesson on the virtues of silence during a friendly late afternoon beach house cocktail party turned into a sweltering Berlin style smelting furnace floor bustling with eager middle aged trolls looking to jackhammer NY city boys awed by cash, names and fame.
Some great,near great and ne’er do wells of the NY art scene had their fill of heated sessions of “meet and greet” young future models while sprawled on mattress covered floors …David, not a novice to the new world’s debauchery, didn’t flinch, as years of sweltering romps have oil cooled this painter’s steely demeanor, so the passing of this boy from his own attic, is a single peg added to his bedpost of many who were previous conquests of years past…
Critics and the media has made more of David and his art than extended history will reward, but this will not be forgotten. That East Hampton beach house summer “fun”: not fondly remembered, but still recall vividly whispered taunts from an attic “playroom” where a young village boy mastering the rules of the game was told:
“… Slence is golden, but duct tape is grey…”
David is not so far from that East Hampton attic today’.
Isn’t it time we looked again at the f*****g sick world of David Hockney?