There was almost literally nothing to watch or listen to in England last evening. Radio 4 had a gob on and broadcast back-to-back bleak documentaries. They kicked-off with some wretched paean to business, presented by former CBI chief Digby Jones. This scintillating hour consisted of the Digster gadding about the Black Country (on expenses one supposes) , talking to self-important Tory-voting yammies about why business is a force for good on Earth and not simply a necessary evil, which is what most of us, rightly, believe. People who take extreme positions on business, or the market, or whatever are collosal arseholes, and need to be shunned by polite society. They, both left and right, should be sent to Rockall to establish who's right once and for all. That should lighten the load for the rest of us.
After this, they broadcast a white-knuckle piece of reportage that set out to convince me I was probably suffering from an overabundance of iron in the system, and/or paranoid schizophrenia. I'm actually only mildly neurotic. This manifests itself in a minor case OCD that only rears its nut when I'm washing-up. I'm quite slovenly by nature in most matters, but when it comes to cleaning crockery and the like, I go mental, like an impoverished cockney Howard Hughes.
Beeb, see me. Must do better.
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