Is there any purpose to Janet Street Porter? Is she anything beyond a massive ego and a one woman advert for the proliferation of RP? Generally I don't hear a great deal from the woman, but for some bizarre reason, she seems to come to my attention only when she takes needless, unoriginal pot-shots at bloggers. Last time it was
Oye Billy that brought her dribblings to my attention. This time it's the excellent
Matt Wardman, via
Clairwil's blog roundup ,who's picked up on old bollock-chops and her wild swings at
something, anything, approaching a coherent article.
Attacking bloggers and blogging is, let's face it, the very definition of shooting fish in a barrel. It's right there in the 'Hack Columnist Handbook' under
"Will This Do?: What to do when you've forgotten to write your piece for the Sunday Supplement". Yes, there's loads and loads of blogs that are awe-inspiringly awful. People with little to say and no means of saying it with any wit or panache. And that's just '
Dave' Cameron taken care of..........
The fact remains, and I've said it somewhere else today, that most of the forty-odd blogs in my side-bar are as well written and interesting/amusing as anything that JSP could ever muster. Beyond that, there are blogs in there that are so superior to her paid dribblings it's embarrassing. When the quality of broadsheet column writing is as indifferent as hers (and a lot of it is), it becomes a curious game to see who'll be next to jump on the bandwagon and wax self-righteous about the terrible trauma of having to put up with people who have the nerve to write and publish for little or no monetary gain, for the sheer hell of it.
In other news................Someone at work isn't talking to me. I can't think why to be honest, but apparently he's told another work colleague that I said something nasty to him and he didn't like it.
He wasn't meant to. Fuck me! I won't go into it, but it involved him making a crass comment about a recently deceased footballer, and my assertion that it was the kind of thing one would expect of an asinine prick. Frankly, I couldn't care less what he says and to whom, but it's the fact he's taken the hump with me that makes me laugh. He likes to make out he's 'a bit edgy', the sayer of the un-sayable as it were. Fine, so he shouldn't mind if I say what I think of him when he opens his gob and spouts shite, it should come with the territory surely, no?
If you can't take the flak, then get out of the war-zone, baby!
