There is something quintessentially British about this kind of Grafitti. Not in the sense that you could imagine the author of said piece queuing up patiently behind a group of grafitti artists, drinking tea out of a bowler hat wearing the union jack dress that Geri Halliwell wore at the brits all those years ago.
No, not like that at all.
The artist in question risked life and limb climbing onto a roof so that his message could clearly be displayed, and even after the adrenaline rush that no doubt accompanies an act as illegal and dangerous as this, the said artist still maintained the reserved approach necessary to put across his message. "Make James Cameron unemployed!" Afterall, Avatar, inspite of its stunning visual effects was fucking dire.
Thats the problem with a piece of grafitti like this, is that it is ambiguous, although being from london and knowing who the prime minister is, most londoners probably know that this grafitti isn't about director James Cameron, but Prime Minister with the same surname, David.
Going back to the sentiment behind the scrawl, it is completely restrained. By looking at some less restrained protests than this we can see why this protest will be relegated to the lower divisions of protest.
Burning effigy of George w Bush.
Burning Jade Goody effigy
A Monk burning an effigy of himself.
The Italians sacking then leader Benito Mussolini.
Foreign protest and direct action is subject to much more effort than it is in Britain, and that is because we put our efforts into other things.
Like Making Mugs (of ourselves)
Or staring at Jelly Beans for so long that they start to resemble future queens of England.
Thats right, we are too busy preparing for the royal wedding, how quintessentially British!
I'm not sure that the people who might read this, would really want to read about the union in wedlock of the most perfect couple in Britain, the eyes of the world will no doubt be watching with baited breath as St Pauls Cathederal (or Westminster Abbey, I can't remember which.) becomes a moment of union between a figurehead of Britain, marries a commoner. its like a disney film blah blah.
It becomes very difficult to even watch TV when TV listings start to look like this.
5pm: The One Show Royal Wedding Special.
5.30pm: Neighbours: the Royal Wedding Special
6pm: Come Dine With Me: Royal Wedding Special.
7pm: Eastenders: Royal Wedding Special.
8pm: fhggerh arghgh dut diut derr: Royal Wedding Special.
9pm: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEkpft: Royal Wedding Special.
It carries on like white noise attacking your headspace, like the torture scene in the ipcress file brainwashing you until you think of the royal family with nothing but obedience and devotion.
In the mean time all of this talk of Royal Weddings makes me think of a previous royal wedding. No not Princess Diana, there are enough people drawing comparisons between Kate and Di. ( thats what I call them, because I'm close enough with both of them to be informal with them, although not as close as James Gilby was with Di... He called her Squidgy.)
Or as with any of the other people she had extra marital affairs with.
No, the Royal wedding I am thinking of is the one in the last episode of Dynasty, which rather strangely took place during an armed uprising of a fictional central european country. Ending in the execution of every guest in the church.
In spite of that, it wouldn't be innapropriate to call this a bloodless coup, because although riddled with machinegun bullets there is not a spec of blood on any of the dead guests. Which I would suggest is also quintessentially british.
What else would be considered quintessentially british? Well, Points of View, a programme about British peoples opinions on British TV, moaning about the lack of variety, or about too much variety or that the variety on their TV isn't varied enough. Its not the sort of thing you'd get on Chinese state TV.
A smug sarcastic blog subtley complaining about the royal wedding would probably be quite British. The equivalent of demanding the Prime Minister join the dole queue via a spray can with a Dick Van Dyke accent an Umberella on a flying bed. I might as well have made a cushion with Will and Kates face on it for all the good it did me.
Anyway, just in case you need some kind of catharsis, watch the Moldaivan Royal Wedding massacre below.
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But Burke is a very straightforward character, in some respects, a carbon copy of former X-factor winners Leona Lewis, and Michelle McManus. Murs on the other hand is all thing to all men. Cheeky chappy you wouldn't mind going to the pub with, a ladies man, a fashion icon, an artiste... a man with many facets. 
a bit like Roger, the man who released the album, 'The Many Facets of Roger'. Another multifaceted man is robin thicke, because he is as thicke as pigshit. 
Lots of facets. But these facets pale in significance compared to the pork pie hatted Murs... 
lots of facets. Upon a closer inspection we can see what these facets actually mean and therefore understand just who Olly Murs actually is... Like Thicke and Roger before him, this image shows that human nature is complex, the human animal will be subject to many emotions, will struggle between rationale and base animal instinct. Philosophers have struggled over the millenia to reconcile this tension but to no avail, this is simply another (if somewhat sophisitcated) attempt. 
By looking at this section of the cover we can see that Murs is capable of looking at away from the screen, averting his gaze from the viewer, being disengaged, but to the left of him is a Murs more than willing to meet us in eye contact, in spite of the fact that he can look both up and towards us, these two juxtaposing images give no sign that Murs is capable of uncrossing his arms. 
Here we can see Murs staring into the unknown, contemplating the universal ideas of human existance. Is there a God? what are we doing here? Do I have cheese or beans with my toast? (Poor Olly hasn't even worked out that you can have both but he will get there one day.) 
This section of the cover is indesputably one of the more Freudian aspects of the image, the id versus the superego. Certain commentators believe that The Murs on the left celebrates as the Murs on the right concedes defeat in a battle to complete a sudoku puzzle but there is strong evidence to suggest that the Murs on the left is farting whilst the Murs on the right is embarrased and covering his mouth to hide his shame, whilst keeping the smell out of his nasal passage. This section of the cover also contains the universal ideas of Levi-Strauss's binary opposites, with the Left Murs being the aggressor and the Murs on the right being submissive. It is also undenyable evidence of Murs' arm unfolding ability an important trait in the modern world. 
The similarity between the 3rd and 6th image of murs bare a striking symmetry. Taken at slightly different angles they still help us get to the heart of what Murs wants us to see him as. Pondering, worrying, a possible element of self doubt, how come there is dust? However, body language experts are unconvinced by the sincerity of this pose. The hand covering the mouth could be a sign that he has something to hide. Is Murs lying to us? What is it he is scared to tell us? 
The final image is telling, it reveals Murs to be not just a cheeky chap from Essex but a ten legged satanic beast sent from the depths of the unknown to torment us for the rest of eternity. Sure, he comes across as personable, but it becomes clear what all those facets are actually there for, to hide his true intention to be a puppet to the Cowell fame factory acting on every whim and will of the darker forces of nature. If it means releasing a shit cod reggae track, so be it. If it means sneaking into the bedroom of every child in Britain and eating our firstborn, I'm sure he'd do that too. Some people would go to great lengths to be famous. So when the X-factor does start at the end of August, think hard about who to vote for, because by voting for these people, you are giving them the chance to enter your homes, and you don't want a ten legged agent of darkness entering your home do you? This, of course, raises further questions, how did he hide this deformity throughout the X-factor audition process? Why didn't ITV stop this if they knew? How can Cowell justify exposing this to the public? 
Like Cronus, Murs could easily be capable of eating his own children. And yours. Then again, there is every chance that I have just been staring far too hard at this album cover for far too long and read more into it than there actually is. There is a remote possibility that it was all simply a lazy person at the record company who photoshopped a load of pictures of Murs together and went, "Tadaaaaah! this is the album cover because I can't be fucked to think up anything better!" and all the record execs said, "Yeah thats great, the general record buying public are cunts anyway, they would buy any old shit." Unfortunately as evidence is so scant of this period of time, we may never know the truth, but we can always have fun speculating on it.