| Thursday, October 16, 2003 |
 | Radio can be a confusing and disorienting thing. For example, when one leaves one’s post in the middle of the Archers. When you return, you find yourself listening to the Afternoon Play, but it takes a while to percolate. You don’t listen to the Archers religiously, and so assume that the characters are just a family you have not encountered for a while – because their middle-class problems are the same middle-class problems that preoccupy every citizen of Ambridge not actually toiling in the fields. You only realise your mistake as the first of an interminable sequence of soliloquys about how much Elizabeth misses Richard.
Radio has strange powers. Or possibly I have strange powers to confuse radio. Whenever I listen to it something breaks. I have mentioned previously the Crazy Christian dead son car crash, which was either perhaps the most brilliant piece fakery ever to be perpetuated against a radio presenter, the most brilliant piece of fakery ever to be perpetuated by a radio presenter not involving Bruce Willis, or the most jaw-droppingly awkward moment ever. Well, I tuned into the Nation’s Favourite Uncle Radio 1 yesterday, to be confronted with Mark Radcliffe, formerly a model of broadcasting professionalism, found himself, without pressure, employing what Capalert would probably call the second-foulest of all foul words with regard to his partner’s viewing habits. Clearly it’s a power I have. Look forward to The Cunting Today Programme.
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