What should we do about the BBC?

William Frederick, on the BBC

I’m a British chap.  Well, someone has to be, don’t they?  In the UK we have the BBC.  The BBC are our national broadcaster, funded by the good old TV Licence paying public.  The BBC are known for constantly whining on and on about their funding.  “How can we produce quality output without another £100 kazillion quid (compounded up of course, year on year, just like what the bankers do).  It’s only what we deserve for our balanced, tolerant and enlightened, artistic genius”.  This author disagrees.

The BBC Logo
The BBC. A national asset or just a bunch of over privaledged toffs sponging from the TV License paying public? You must decide!

I used to be a supporter of the BBC but now I have slipped away from them and joined the ever growing throng of people that think they are nothing but a great big fat waste of money.  (Or what our American cousins would call a boondoggle).  No longer do the BBC stand for truth, honesty and fair play.  Now they have their own political agenda.  The BBC have become the home of the luvvie.  A club for posturing leftie do-gooders.  A shrine for the lacklustre.  A haven where interns (the useless offspring of the well connected) stand around all day, drinking lattes.  You can identify an intern very easily by simply asking their name, which will be something like Lettice, Peregrine, Epiphany or Rafferty.  Of course, if you listen to their ‘heads-of’ (everyone at the BBC is the ‘head of’ something or other), they are all fabulous and we should consider ourselves grateful to have them.  …Okay Yah! What’s more they are criminally over paid! (See comments for clarification)

Let’s take a look at some of the issues that have recently made off with my goat.  The Beeb or Aunty (to use their 1970s sobriquets) is a nationalised broadcasting organisation that used to be known for its quality output.  This must be true because Whoopi Goldberg used to say so in one of their self-advertisements.

That quality has at the very least become questionable and some would say that it has simply gone, which will become more apparent as I progress through the following few topics.

Continue reading What should we do about the BBC?

Agent Bertram called to Buckingham Palace!

Agent Bertram called to Buckingham Palace!

It was a Saturday

It was early morning and someone was knocking on Agent Bertram’s front door.  ‘This can’t be good.  It has to be bloomin’ Buckingham Palace.  If I’m wanted at the Palace, it’s always on a bloody Saturday, in my own time,’ thought Agent Bertram dragging his dressing gown over his crumpled nightshirt and stumping downstairs to the front door.  ‘The one day that I get to have a nice lie in and then traipse around the shops with my Beloved… and that’s the day they choose to knock on the front door at eight in the morning just when normal decent folk are settling down to a few more zeds!  However, as traipsing around the shops looking for wedding paraphernalia is not quite my idea of heaven, this could be a blessing in disguise…

Outside, standing on the front step of Bertram’s Gower Street home in London’s Bloomsbury area, was a middle-aged man dressed in a chauffeur’s outfit.  He, being from Buckingham Palace, looked immaculate.  Bertram scowled at him and glanced over his shoulder towards a Bentley Mulsanne car that positively oozed the colour black.  This black was so deep and the paintwork so scratch-free that if it were not for the colourful Royal Crest on the passenger door, subtly announcing the vehicle’s provenance, it would have been difficult to determine if the car was really there at all.

“Something’s up at The Palace then, eh?”  ventured Bertram speculatively.
“I can see why you are Her Majesty’s Special Agent… and I am merely the chauffeur,” drawled the man in the thickest of soupy tones.

Image of Buckingham Palace
Agent Bertram visits Buckingham Palace

Continue reading Agent Bertram called to Buckingham Palace!