Columnist

Got a big mouth have we? Opinions by the bucket load is it? Like to say a lot of stuff about a lot of stuff? Well my san, what you need is to land yerself yer own column, that’s what you need. Be big, bold and outrageous. Attack the monarchy! Defend the monarchy! Slag off Britney! And lezzers! And the Welsh! Just don’t be boring or you’ll be forced to cover the credit crunch!

Columnists are born with a form of colour blindness: despite living in a complex, nuanced world, they see everything in black and white. Murderers? Hang ’em! Paedos? Lynch ’em! Tragically many of these motormouths are medically unable to shut it: they talk in their sleep, babble during lovemaking and the most seriously afflicted get called up to appear in those Why-I-Love-1924 compilation programmes. Still, there is a sad trend in these modern days of ours (and these days are ours – just ask the Fonz) to latch onto those who are famous and to give them space in newspapers to say what they like. Can this be wise? Judging by their output, probably not. Take Jeremy Clarkson for example. No, go on, take him, put him in a rocket, fire him into orbit and actually, why complicate matters? Just get a gun and take him out the back. Actually, Clarkson’s alright…for a tw*t. At least he’s not Richard Littlejohn. And I guess it’s not his fault he’s paid a fortune to wax erroneous on anything he chooses. But it does make me wonder what it must be like to be paid in anything other than potatoes…