A friend and I were admiring the meniscus on pints of Guinness near Euston station this week, when we established, once and for all, the issue that each and every one of you, the evidently intelligent readership of this parish, endures every day: the public are a collection of cretinous idiots.
“For every job position we advertise, the agency we deal with receives around 500 applications. Of this, they send me the details of ten that they think are most suitable for the role. Of that ten, I would say at least eight of them, are, frankly, imbeciles that you wouldn’t trust to close their own front door, let alone work in the same office…” If we apply this rule of detailed mathematical formula to the country as a whole, which is undeniably faultless in its arrow-like accuracy, and this equates to a staggering 99.6% of the population being a complete waste of wrinkly skin and breath.
Of course, upon some serious reflection on the way back north, this couldn’t be the case. Surely, the percentage of decent, respectable, humourous, caring and intelligent people must be higher. Surely? But then the latest listening figures for national radio have been announced, and the Daily Star for your ears, TalkSport, have grown their marketshare considerably, with over 3.5 million listeners tuning in. Uh oh. This means that the enormous domestic percentage of idiots are finding their ears, and the mind-pollution is growing.To compound this, imagine my utter headshaking and old man fist shaking disgust at the announcement that every football fan’s favourite, misogynistic fuckhammers, Richard ‘Hairsuit’ Keys and Andy ‘ochty-nochty-footy-sockty’ Gray, were to be given an instant reprieve from their broadcasting purgatory on the national radio station TalkSport.
Two weeks ago they were suspended by Sky Sports, where, as hairy and primitive midwives, they gave birth to the wealthy bastard child of the Premiership coverage. That they should be sacked by the broadcaster for making derogatory comments about a female football official is slightly eye-brow raising, seeing as the satellite station has filled their daytime sports newsdesk with attractive women that are quite obviously renowned for their journalistic prowess and sports knowledge. Definitely not because of their tits.
My initial disgust has, however, receded and actually turned to reality and a sigh of relief – in the way that when you see a couple of media-judged, ugly, hideousness there is that thought that well, at least they found each other, this particular port is the ideal place to drop anchor for the rudderless HMS Sexist. Also, there is a refreshing honesty in a media outlet that looks in the mirror and accepts what it is, and then strategically goes after what it wants, in order to improve their appeal to the listenership.
Contrast this with the cowardice of the BBC, in the wake of the furore around the racist and ill-informed comments made by the presenters of Top Gear about Mexicans. Now, I have been a fan of the show in the past, as have the BBC, as it is their single biggest export of a show, that is sold and syndicated globally – it is the flagship light entertainment show of the tax-payer.
The show has played on the jocular bonhomie of the three hosts. However, in one fell swoop they went from playful banter to the laziest, stereotypical racism in the name of humour. It wasn’t funny. Comedy, in my opinion should push boundaries, as long as there is an observational or cutting element that throws a new light on an otherwise obvious scenario or situation. Suggesting that most Mexicans were the fat mouse from Speedy Gonzales cartoons suggested that the presenters have now become stale cartoon charicatures of themselves. Clarkson wades around the set like the near-extinct, balding Wankersaurus he is, finally showing his true colours. This is a shame, as he is a talented and articulate journalist, and a decent presenter. However, the grinning hyena-midget that is Richard Hammond is so far up Clarkson’s arse, I’m surprised that Clarkson doesn’t unzip his trousers and flop Hammond out of his trousers to urinate on the feet of the BBC Commissioning Committee, for the amusement of the studio audience. And finally we come to James May, who, as with Clarkson, is also an obviously intelligent man. So, why the bejesus does he stand there with his Stan Laurel face as the other two goad each other on like accountants in a strip club, offering nothing of any value?
The BBC should have acted swiftly, and shown a level of consistency in the punishments of their top stars. Were Jonathon Ross and Russell Brand not relieved of their duties – one temporarily suspended, one resigning immediately – for making some prank phone calls to a man who helped define the word ‘stereotype’ as a Spanish waiter? I don’t recall them calling an entire nation lazy. And if it hadn’t been Mexicans, let’s replace that with the word ‘Jewish’ or ‘Pakistani’ and see what the reaction would have been? Whilst TalkSport embrace what they are, and march through the airwaves, the BBC have shown less balls than a female linesman.