Just came back from the gym after spending an hour on various punchbags, speed and floor-to-ceiling balls, and was feeling quite happy. Endorphin-mellow, in fact.Stupidly I turned on the radio and came across Poetry Please on Radio 4, one of the BBCs various radio literary programmes. Words can’t express how much I despise the BBC. I hate its actively mild, lefty-liberal, middle class world-view in which we are assumed to be either town-houses dwelling worthies or toiling immigrants desperate for betterment.
The real people of this country, the stroppy, beer-swilling crew who are occasionally called on to defend us all from behind the point of a bayonet, and who constitute about 90% of the population of this green and pleasant land, they rarely get a look in. The Hogarthian excess for which we are also known, is only ever mentioned as some sort of social disease to be cured, presumably, by exposure to radio programmes about poetry, from the BBC.
Poetry Please? I’d rather listen to a drunk puke.
In fact, I intend to. I’m off to the pub to get drunk.