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From: Sean Fan Category: Art Date: 30 November 2008 Time: 05:20 PM Review: Trouser hue is a common source of disfigurement here in the rusticity of the moist South West, this is due to the high proportion of middlebrow authors, and their ilke who take such delight in belching out their terra nova complexities to the petit bougious via the organ of Radio Fours Clare Balding who will, it seems go to any length in order to find just such a self professed little englander as Plastic Gale, an author of great standing (chimes Clare)," Everything to the left of the river is ours..." quips Gale, "no I was'nt born here, but I think you are born to one location and marry another.....I,m married (to my self)...to Cornwall", Clare seems unfazed,"Do you write your nozzles out under the stars at night?" she volunteers without the script pages flapping against against the Daphne Dumaurier product placement index file. "Oh ya, I;ve always been a romantic.." cries Parsnic. Try getting such curious notions beyond the attention of displaced Cornish folk looking for somewhere to live, probably get a slightly different response to Clares clipped little platitudes. You don't actually believe the Archers , do you?, well possibly they do, and they seem entirely capable of wearing purple trousers, or cobalt blue ones with a daft little denim captains hat, the sort that only the most shameless tourist once sported as self parody, then of course the retiring millions who set forth for their dream of a life with no blasted celts wanting their language back, Wales is not as popular now, so here they all are Penguins, (Cornish for white head).If only the authorpedic writer would have as much sensitivity to cultural identity as Peter Tatchall, in my estimation, a giant with a cause.On R4 later on after the Archers and more archers, even the news is like the Archers, yes its that boring time of year when even the most boring radio soap does something truly boring as in the media looking up its own dictionary, a pantomime by a pantomime, even Clare Spalding sounds real afterwards. Then the Australian who used to be funny, Clive James does one of his rants about history and culture with films about the Bader Meinhof bunch, I'm sort of keeping up with him but then he sounds like one of those improbable, stifling nutters whose presented themselves for scrutiny on the Island Parish role call of pyschotic seaside escapades, stick to bad comedy, it always comes good in the end, unless of course you are Steve Punt and that other weirdly ordinary Hugh Dennis and the one who impersonates himself ON RADIO!!!!, they are only existing because the BBC , much as we love its generic remit, is like a big old fridge for these old spiders to live cosy lives behind. In short, those guys would'nt last a snowdrops lifetime in the real world, they are way beyond Jack Dee or Sean er....forgotten his name because he is just too funny, anyway Bill Bailey will stand in for now, Stephen Fry will overshadow these terrapins respendently, I'm sure. I cannot imagine Sir Stephen Fry wearing garishly dyed apperell, or even those brick red canvas baggy trousers that faux sea farers choose to don with the aformentioned denim cap and lagubrious cricket style jumper slung somewhere neutered. I have fears about the developing trouser trends, must we now career through a corridor of prince-o-wales checks, herring bone parlour games, pinstripes seem terribly lewd since, well! goodness knows when. I cannot foresee a time when a man of either sexual persuasion will take up his tibia and sally forth proudly in possesion of the red chinos or the purple loons