Newsreaders and presenters are glowing in the publicity of the economic downturn, feeding their gluttonous egos with the joy that people really are listening to them as they have something meaningful and relevant to say about their lives beyond the ivory towers of Westminster, ‘the City’ and trivial US stories they can import from NBC about Britney Spears cutting her hair. Here’s our view on their roles:
Daisy McAndrew: If a journalist takes a blood test, they’ll apologetically leak the same shade of red as their lunchtime bottle of wine; with Daisy McAndrew you’ll pretty soon have a new homeland for polar bears.
Bill Neely: A man for whom a gust of wind is a city-churning hurricane, a parched mouth is a child-killing drought, a misplaced five pound note is a harbinger of imminent financial meltdown, and a discarded lit match is evidence of a thwarted terror attack of apocalyptic proportions – but, above everything else, Bill will be the one who wants to tell you you’re going to die, and die very horribly.
Fiona Phillips: Some spare moulted cat fur stuck on to a lolly stick.
Ben Shephard: A talking coffin.
Tom Bradbury: Once he’s wrenched the knives out of his back, buried there by an esteemed colleague, he will assume the inscrutable glare of Gordon Brown implies that he is thinking about resigning, a perception with the same persuasiveness as an astrology column in The Sun.
Chris Choi: Appears to savour bringing consumers bad news with the same sadism as a doctor who before turning in each night practises telling imaginary patients that they have a terminal illness before salivating over the flow of inevitable tears.
David Cairns, ex-minister for Scotland: Strictly speaking not a presenter (but look out for him on I’m A Celebrity…), who gave a reason for resigning as convincing as his hair. The sort of turncoat who brings out the eye-patch, peg leg and parrot at the first sign of the skull and crossbones on the horizon.
Declan Curry: A jumped-up town crier with delusions of grandeur.
Paul Mason: The Newsnight economist is always prematurely ejaculating his jargon with such fervour that he imagines he can get verbiage such as ‘deleverage’ into the English language before the economic stuff is over akin to a smarmy entrepreneur trying to instil creationism into science lessons at an academy he has funded.
Martin Lewis: The most annoying man on television now seems to believe that his tips for idiots about saving £20 by not going overdrawn have made him the Second Coming of Christ. Nothing can be communicated without vainglorious histrionics; every single messianic utterance must be proclaimed with same portentousness as the 10 Commandments while Lorraine Kelly sits there with all the vapid scepticism of a star-struck Scientologist.