Shambles at BBC

You know that embarrassing realisation when you’re sitting tweeting or checking your stats on your blog page when it strikes you that you’re on your own? The others in your ‘group’ apparently have lives – engaged in real conversations at dinner parties or buying rounds of cocktails with their real friends. It is equally likely they are sitting on their lonesome watching TV – Coronation Street – see I’m so unfamiliar with it I don’t call it ‘the Street’. Given some of the twits who tweet it is more likely they are glued to petrol head Peter Pans or is that Pants on Top Gear. So I closed my laptop and locked the back door.
It was while I walked contentedly through deepest Aberdeenshire where the silence of the lambs took on its own connotation when the very air I breathed was rent by a burst of uncontrolled laughter. Never before has Any Answers, Radio 4s gauge of the concerns of middle England, ever brought any emotions other than tears of despair. But today was different. Today that flagship of England collapsed. The omens are good. No they are great.
The mighty ship of the BBC (careful to strike the ‘p’ on my keyboard and not the ‘t’) that hypocritical medium staffed by smug, self-congratulationary estuary toffs simply fell apart. Interesting how few emails were available to fill in for failed phone lines and few voices mercifully made it onto the air waves. One hot headed son of St George who did succeed compared St George’s, or George’s as he would have it, horse representing England and his lance, reasonableness and fairness!!!??
The grazing sheep glanced up, gobs stuffed with chapped neeps, and gawped as I sneaked a look around to see who or what else my shriek of incredulity had alerted.
Just as the programme was heading arse over tit a Scot actually made it on. An agreeably cool-headed voice or reason, articulate and proportionate view about the state of Britain 13 years after the start of the Blair revolution who calmly reassured middle England that a hung parliament works perfectly well in Scotland. Not that most of middle England know where Scotland is – most think it is somewhere up at the Arctic circle. However I digress.
Made my day it did. Such a beautiful day. Still warm air peaceful but for an occasional skylark overhead and a laughing hyena. Then I remembered I’d left on the pressure cooker so I legged it home.
The butter beans were perfect.

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