Celebrity skin

Oh dear. It was all going so well. For some years, Google never put a foot wrong. Ever since the brothers G first introduced their search thingy with its simple interface, every Google project has been elegant and efficient. And we loved them all. We knew they were taking control of our lives and that ultimately they would dominate the planet, but we didn't care because their web things were so nice and pretty; and at least they are not Microsoft.

But now it is all over. Google, in a fit of aesthetic vainglory, has introduced Artist themes. Yes, from now on you can have your Google searches in a theme of your own choosing, made by such illustrious artists as.... well, nobody, really. The only professional artist chosen by Google to adorn its search engine is Jeff Koons, the well-known complete prick. Of course Rolf Harris makes an appearance as well, as he effortlessly hurtles towards ridicule by the simple tactic of thinking himself a serious artist.

The other artists include Ronnie Wood; as the blurb says, "if Rock and Roll is his night job then painting is certainly his day job." Give up your day job, Ronnie. Also appearing on behalf of the music biz is the ubiquitous Coldplay, whose notion of doing Art is to rip-off a painting by Eugene Delacroix. There must be something curiously satisfying about being utter crap in two distinct fields.

The rest of them are mostly pimps, poseurs and prats: "NIGO® is the founder of the rapidly expanding Tokyo streetwear brand A Bathing Ape®, or BAPE®, as well as a DJ in the TERIYAKI BOYZ® and owner of the music label (B)APE SOUNDS®." So, he pleads guilty to being a tosser® on three separate counts. Various other proponents of airport lounge art and Asian urban hip-hop hilarity, all of them too insignificant to mention, flout their mediocrity on this page. And who, of course, could forget Lance Armstrong, try as we might?

And that is that. As of today, Google's cool is at an end. Perhaps if the brothers G has just stuck with the the Beastie Boys or the Wiggles we might have forgiven them. But sacrificing their clean interface to the daubings of the international aristocracy of talentless vulgarity is too much. Perhaps it is time to go back to Alta Vista.