I have mixed feelings. I don't trust the Daily Mail and their agenda. On the other hand, I think that Jonathan Ross is a talentless overpaid tosser. And at least now I know what Russell Brand is. Apparently he's a comedian. I remember when a definition of a comedian included humour.
I'm really not frightfully bothered about the substance of what happened. I think obscene phone calls are illegal. I think nuisance calls are illegal. I also think there are laws against recording telephone calls and replaying them without permission. I doubt that what they did breached any of those laws. And I think people who are in the public eye have to accept that, almost by definition, they surrender at least some of the privacy rights that the rest of us value.
I have to say I am flummoxed that there appears to be a whole set of people, not just Gross and Bland, who think that what they did was amusing or entertaining. I don't mean that particularly in a disapproving way. Children get amusement by ringing people up and saying swear words, but I doubt this was intended as children's entertainment. I've got a bit bored reading about Jonathan Ross being 'cutting edge'. I thought at Live 8 he was dated and irrelevant with his homophobic remarks, and reprehensible for his cynical attempt to cash in. I understand subsequently he has engaged in sexual innuendo. I'm struggling to think what's innovative or cutting edge about that. Edginess requires an element of original thought.
A large part of me is wondering what all the fuss is about, but an even larger part is salivating at the schadenfreude what is sort of hitting this waste of space. He gets paid more in a day than many people get in a year, and I can't work out why. He hosts a chat show that gets its audience from people wanting to see the famous guest. He hosts a film programme which is researched and written by other people. I'm not saying that anybody can do it, but Charlotte Church and Mark Kermode seem to manage okay, probably for a lot less money.
You kind of feel that certain parts of the BBC are like certain parts of the City: staffed by people who are clones of each other, appointed because of who they know or because they can work for free for six months, and totally oblivious to what happens outside their small circle-jerks, so divorced from reality that they actually think that playground nastiness is not only entertaining but funny.
