Talk Radio: providing stupidity with a voice since way before the internet.

There is a program on Radio 2 where a man discusses 'issues', which may possibly be 'topical' (like ointment) or 'current' (like raisins) or 'big' (from a homeless guy on the corner). For the sake of argument I'll call him 'Jeremy Vine'. When I say 'discusses', I mean he reads out words that are sent to him, in the form of texts and emails from the outraged, desperately sincere or nauseatingly smug: the three major ethnic groups of middle England. You might think that reading out other people's words is not all that hard a job. I might think that too, but I know that he puts his heart into it, by doing the voices. For each comment he abuses and contorts his vocal cords until they fit in the right box. Nauseatingly smug? That's philosophy professor with a dash of Ian Hislop. Desperately sincere? Two Amnesty International spokespersons and a pinch of liberal politician on the campaign trail. For 'outraged' he manages the kind of voice that you might expect from an anthropomorphised Daily Mail anus - if the Daily Mail had an anus instead of some sort of closed gastrointestinal loop that just processes the same shit again and again.

Sometimes on such programs, the maniac at the helm will instruct one of his voiceless minions to obtain a 'member of the public' on the phone. It is touching in this age of maximum dissemination of the word according to pillock that some still choose to phone a radio station to have the world swallow their opinion unfeelingly.

I was listening to a dicsucsion about facebook with half an ear when a woman, who for the sake of argument I'll call 'A woman' called in to complain that she had found a 'glitch' with facebook. Friends could take photos of her young children at parties or social events and then put them on Facebook without her realising, wailed 'A woman'. Then other people could 'look at them'.

Thank goodness 'A woman' had spotted the problem. No one could put photos on the internet prior to Facebook could they? Nor could they add text naming those depicted in electronic images. Now Facebook, with no regard for privacy whatsoever, is allowing people she knows to display images taken in her presence, to her social circle. This evil must stop. Or she could just ask her friends to not put pictures of her kids on the web. Or she could stop having friends and attending their parties. Or she could keep her kids inside locked in a box under the stairs, away from prying eyes. Or she could shut up and use her brain.

My preference would be for under the stairs, because their ravenous little appetites would help keep the woodlice numbers down. Two birds with one stone.