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. Last Updated: 07/27/2016

BABA' BABO




Didn't I say carrying was stupid? Now Boris Berezovsky has something in common with David Steel, the British politician whose son was nabbed in Greenwich, London, carrying a couple of Es last year. It must have all been some subtle political gambit -- a chance for the Big Bruiser to parade his family and show the human side of his nature -- because this is not a man to cross. I'm sure there is some lowly police office in a station in St. Petersburg quaking in his boots. "I arrested Berezovsky's daughter!"


President Boris Yeltsin's last attempt to show off his paternal instincts went badly awry. An Associated Press correspondent told me that at a news conference recently Yeltsin confused a camera tripod with his grandson. Maybe we should send the militsia around to the Kremlin for a random test. Remember, you only have to behave as if you've been abusing substances.


In fact, it would be a good idea to go and test the whole lot -- if only to set an example for the people. Their perception of reality is so twisted that they must all be on something, except Lebed, who needs to be. Happily, I escaped the gonzo existence that is life in Moscow these days and went to a nice party during the weekend -- the first anniversary of the dance show "Garage" on Europa Plus, held at the club Master.


We have all been complaining that "things are not what they used to be," but the Garage people did a good job. The usually jet black walls of the club had been spruced up with day-glo orange hangings and piles of tires stood about on the dance floor. (Don't ask me. I didn't understand it either.) Nice music with a DJ imported from the U.K., cool dancers and a pleasant VIP lounge, filled with nice people you could actually talk to.


Not the brain numbing, physical abuse of the old days, but just what I like -- a place where you can chat and a dance floor where you actually want to dance. A perfectly pleasant party with all the right elements.


However, all these parties are becoming increasingly corporate. Big business has latched onto these youth events in a big way. At the Funny House Dance Awards, and again at Master, the tobacco companies were out in force. Leggy girls wearing silver space minis and gaudy tank tops were pushing cigarettes on all the teenies stumbling about the various lounges.


There is a an obvious irony here. The reason that drugs are having such a hard time is that the international cartels haven't sponsored any city events, done enough advertising, or paid any taxes. They have done an appalling job of packaging their product. They need to get Maurice Saatchi on the case. If he can repackage Mrs. T, whose claim to fame before she got into politics was that she invented Mr. Whippy ice-cream, then surely the few public relation problems that smack has would not be too much for the international PR juggernaut to overcome.


First they need to sack all the current distributors, as your average dealer is a shifty and dishevelled young man. A few girls in spangly uniforms at nice, clean 24-hour outlets and a good brand image would do. I'd go for a simple, big golden-brown H on everything. Spike Lee managed to launch the Malcolm X's X all over everything a couple of years ago and he was into killing people too, so it can't be that hard.


But, of course, Poppy & Stumble Plc has made a pig's ear of the whole thing. Heroin was originally the brand name of a cough medicine launched at the end of the last century. Talk about misguided product positioning. They have left the field clear for the tobacco and booze companies to corner the market. Maybe they can now persuade Bruiser to make some endorsements and relaunch, to win back some market share before it is too late.