Wednesday, 30 May 2012

Alan Milburn

I couldn't think who it was. Some time after 7 a.m. I came back near to the radio and heard a familiar voice talking in cliches.
And then the name came to me. Alan Milburn. Milburn? Wasn't he pronounced dead on survival?
I listened for a while but I'd have had more chance with Ukrainian.
I did notice one thing. He said "blah blah that wake up and smell the coffee moment blah blah". I think it was some kind of moment of decision  that he was positing; but the fool was quoting an advertising jingle aimed at selling coffee.
Why don't they ask "What the hell are you gabbling about?"
I have no recollection who the presumably comatose interviewer was. Maybe it was Evan Davies. Now he can talk his own faecal share. Listen to him on the bottom line as he interviews the succession of self-regarding ne'er-do-wells. But also I have seen him chairing at The British Academy and he didn't verbally defecate that much. And I have that impression of all of them on that programme. They're alert and literate and retain some respect for clarity. How do they cope with talking to these pillocks? Why don't they undermine them for the entertainment of those of us who haven't been body-snatched?
It really is in no one's interest except Milburn and whoever is backing him to talk crap about whatever it was he was talking about.
At the very least, they could do it back to him.
BBC: But aren't we throwing the baby out with the bathwater?
Millburn: What?
BBC: At the end of the day, I mean.
Moilbrown: I'm sorry, I --
BBC: Isn't it time we did exactly what it says on the tin?
Sooner or later he'd join in or give up. They have a short attention span and, eventually, he'd wash his arse -- oh no that's what cats do.
I'm trying to think of something less intellectual than a cat.
I'll come back to you.