Saturday, December 02, 2006

 

Desert Island Discs


BBC Radio Four’s Desert Island Discs has long been a favourite of mine, smug middle-classer that I am. (For foreigners: the British middle classes are the rulers of the world, although middle-classers who use the word foreigner unironically as I just have are class traitors and completely confused.) Anyway. For the last God knows how many years DID has been presented by Sue Lawley, but she had to relinquish the role a few months ago because she retired or died or something. Kirsty Young picked up the mantle.

Now Kirsty is hot property. She’s blonde, undeniably pretty, and possessed of a deliciously throaty, sexy Scottish voice that cannot fail to stimulate a throbbing in the groin of any man, even if he is an ancient one-legged bullshitter like this. She’s had some good guests in her short tenure, not least Stephen King, who proved himself to be an immensely witty and likeable man as well as a fellow of impeccable musical tastes. Anybody who would take both Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen to a desert island and immerse himself in their outpourings is my kind of chap.

However. A few weeks ago Kirsty had the triple-Michelin-starred chef Heston Blumenthal on the show. Apparently he runs the best restaurant in the world. Myself, I like to eat food, not art, but what the fuck do I know. Blumenthal was talking about his early days and, as usually happens nowadays with Radio Four presenters, Kirst interrupted him rudely:

‘Then you became an office furniture salesman. Soul-destroying work.’

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. And it pissed me right off. I have a friend in his early sixties who is really and truly an office furniture salesman, and he loves his job and dreads the day when he will be forced to retire. But to a pampered, cosseted, closeted media type like Kirsty Young, salesmanship is soul-destroying. Deriving a wage from a source away from the public teat is soul-destroying. Earning a living by repetitive, sweat-inducing slog is soul-destroying. Any line of work other than that of flitting around in the delusional smoke-and-mirrors world of the fucking BBC is soul-destroying.

Kirsty, you’re in your mid-thirties. Get a grip and grow up. Get your hands dirty. Try working to an alarm clock every morning, and try accepting work that you don’t really want to do, just for one week. I know it’s hard, love, and your stylist and Sushi chef won’t be impressed. But your self esteem will be boosted no end. And that’s the point.

Comments:
ancient one-legged bullshitter

Good looking chap. So Mr Eater, never mind the anger, you'd still do'er right?
I was actually a Little chef once, soul destroying work.
 
Come off it Foot Eater. Are you telling me that when your ‘friend’ is forty and wakes up with a most hellish heebie jeebie hangover on a Monday and notices his stiffies aren’t as big or hard as they once were and his missus is going on and on about expensive backpacking adventure holidays in Sumatra that he thinks to himself

“I’m so glad I sell maple effect chipboard desking solutions”

Does he fuck.
He thinks

“ OH FUCK NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, GOD HELP ME, I’LL BE GOOD I PROMISE JUST SORT IT ALL OUT PLEEEEEASE”

Kirsty was right.
That chef was a bore. Three stars my Michelin arse. Good tyres mind.

Sue Lawley was totally ghastly and thick to boot. Jonathon miller was brilliant with her, she laughed at all the wrong bits the snobby baggage.
King’s choice of the old ninety sevens Great Barrier Reef was brilliant. Been trying to find that one since.
I knew I was better than you and now I know why.
I am working class and can therefore look down from a great height upon you and all your works.
Ask yourself this Footsie.
“Do I have to work? Would my independent income support me and all this nice stuff?”
If you answer yes then no, then hard cheddar old darling, you’re Hoi Polloi like the rest of us.
Middle Class. You make me laugh you do.

Oh and good wishes to you and yours as the festive season approaches.
 
Robbie Williams is soul destroying. And jazz, swing, etc.

I don't like her. She came from Channel 5 or ITN or whatever like totally and she never even got her top off. She's cocky. Too cocky. Then again, maybe that'll help, because I think Lawley let Cameron off far too easily with his "Oh yah, I just love the Killers, I can't get enough of her" boillocks.

There are posters of that scottish one-legged fellow round the train station here. Something about indecent exposure, sex offender something.
 
So how long have you been selling office furniture, Foot Eater? Sounds to me like you're justifying too hard...

...hang on...

"Kirsty, you’re in your mid-thirties. Get a grip and grow up. Get your hands dirty"

This is you on one of your self destructive rants again, isn't it? You're Kirsty Young and feeling overwhelmed with the middle-class guilt instilled in you by working class oiks at school.

I claim my £5.
 
Kieran take those posters doon, you were asking for it and you know it.

If Mr Ayres is right how about a buck at ye Mr Eater? yes I know I've said it before but this is different.
 
Oh dear, I fear everyone's reading too much into this. It was simply intended as a rant against the disparaging attitude so prevalent in the world of media and 'celebrity' towards less glamorous forms of work, mine included.
 
That sort doesn't inflate their self-esteem through traditional work.
Give her some strategic cosmetic surgical adjustments, access to a trust fund and a busy social calendar and she'll feel validated.
 
As I tell my husband frequently: try talking to a TV camera or hosting a radio programme and see how easy it is. Not!
Kirsty isn't perfect and needs to settle in, but it's early days.
 
As I tell my husband frequently: try talking to a TV camera or hosting a radio programme and see how easy it is. Not!
Kirsty isn't perfect and needs to settle in, but it's early days.
 
As I tell my husband frequently 'Try talking to a TV camera or hosting a radio programme and see how easy it is. Not!'
Kirsty isn't perfect and needs to settle down, but it's early days.
 
Oh blimey! Sorry!
 
Pi, you should by rights actually make your comments at least 3.14159265 times, every time, so you're still within your comment entitlment.
 
SafeT: the one thing she doesn't need is cosmetic surgery.

Pat: so what I think you're saying is, as you tell your husband frequently, 'Try talking to a TV camera or hosting a radio programme and see how easy it is. Not!' and that Kirsty isn't perfect and needs to settle down, but it's early days. Correct me if I missed it.

Kieran: my, you're a smart bugger, aren't you? I'll have some of what you're taking. Here I was thinking Pat couldn't spell pie.
 
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