This truly is a Red Letter Day. Idly flicking through the new issue of Radio Times I spot a lengthy interview – by a female journalist, what are the chances? – of an actress. I’ve never heard of the actress (Ramola Garai) nor her drama series (The Hour) but that’s not the point. The only pleasure I could possibly derive from an interview by a female journalist at the RT writing about an unknown actress starring in an unknown series is to spot the inevitable section(s) with one or both of two elements:
– belittling / shaming women holding traditional values concerning marriage, family, home…
– extolling feminism
In the event it takes only seconds to find the section. The journalist, E Jane Dickson, writes:
The Hour, with its murky undercurrents…. Is an effective antidote to the cosy, cupcake version of the 1950s currently very much in vogue. (Ms Garai is then quoted):
‘I find it strange when women get nostalgic for that era. I can see – just about – that we have lost some of what might be called the security of being in the home, but what we’ve gained seems to me so much greater.’
The fact that so many of her own generation now disown or dislike the term feminism is, she says, ‘bewildering’.
‘I’m a feminist,’ she declares, ‘God, yes! A bra-burning, building-burning feminist…’.
Building burning? Perhaps the police should re-open the files on unexplained cases of arson in the vicinity of wherever Ms Garai lives. Losing the will to live, I stopped reading the article at this point, and I invite you to buy the RT if you want to read more of this feminist propaganda.
Onto an altogether more unexpected element in the same issue of RT, a letter from a man (Jason Potter, of London SE4) expressing an anti-political correctness sentiment. Wonders never cease. It’s titled, ‘Too many women?’:
I’m watching Law & Order: UK nightly on ITV3 – but only for the half-decent acting. Most of the episodes have join-the-dots storylines, and the ‘gender balance’ is ludicrous – the vast number of female pathologists this show regularly throws up has become a running joke in our household, let alone the excess of women judges, the female ballistics expert who strides around in her leather jacket with her hands stuffed in her trouser pockets, and Harriet Walter as the proverbial butch ‘governor’ with her idiotic cockney accent.
If there is to be a new series, let’s hope this absurd political correctness is found dead on L&O’s East End rubbish tips.