I had a horrible dream last night that I’ve never had before. In the dream, I knew I had to get up early and couldn’t get to sleep. Every time I checked the clock it got closer to 0600 and I got more and more panicked and frantic. But it was a dream. Most odd.
The reason I had to get up early was to talk about my book Selfish Whining Monkeys on the BBC Radio Four Start The Week. The presenter, Tom Sutcliffe, made a point which is often made: that me, and people like me, complain that a whole bunch of serious issues within society are not allowed to be discussed – ‘and yet you talk about them every week, Rod.’
Well yes, but at the risk of being called a racist and a bigot. So I can do it, but it’s very difficult for people in positions of political power, people who rely upon being tolerated by the liberal media elite, to do it – because that’s likely to be the end of their careers. I couldn’t give a monkey’s if some irrelevant middle class black-clad drug-addled hag, male or female, from the Groucho Club thinks I’m beyond the pale for suggesting that the present rates of immigration have not been wholly beneficial to the poorest sections of society, even if they have been economically beneficial to the black-clad hags etc.
I think it would be for the best if you judged for yourselves if I am unspeakably ghastly, a sort of Anders Breivik of print, buy buying the book. But I suppose that’s a very self-serving argument.