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(h/t, The Thin Man.)

Climate Resistance has an entertaining piece on Guardian regular George Monbiot’s earnest disapproval of the Top Gear motoring programme and its deplorable exuberance.

The rest.

Other reasons why Top Gear is more entertaining than Monbiot’s Guardian column can be found here, here and here.

Update:

Mr Monbiot’s indignant curtain twitching continues in today’s Guardian.

Humourless exasperation is, of course, a Monbiot trademark and I can’t offhand recall a column that hasn’t called for something, somewhere to be banned, pulled, dramatically reduced or taken off air and horsewhipped. Setting aside some comically po-faced accusations of criminal incitement, it’s worth noting that, once again, the earnest Mr Monbiot struggles to conceive why an enormously popular programme of which he disapproves is allowed to remain on air.

It’s telling that Monbiot doesn’t understand Top Gear is, in part, popular precisely because it mocks pretentious fatalism and po-faced urges to control – urges that Monbiot and much of his readership now represent. The Guardian’s foremost eco-warrior is outraged that the BBC should devote one hour a week to a programme that celebrates human ingenuity and individual daring, albeit brashly and with abandon. It offends him, as if it were some kind of indecent throwback to a more primitive age – hence an absurd comparison with the Black & White Minstrel Show.

It clearly isn’t enough for Monbiot that his own worldview is reflected widely across the media, not least by the BBC. The fact that a single hour of airtime should defy his prejudices is, it seems, an intolerable irritation. But such are the awful burdens of the uptight puritan. 

Speaking of echo chambers… In today’s Observer, Jay Rayner ponders the whereabouts of dramatic radicalism in an age of state subsidy and asks what happens if, as Julian Fellowes suggests, “It’s just become impossible not to be a Socialist within the artistic community.” 

What strikes me most, during the discussions I have, is an almost total failure of imagination when it comes to working out what a play from the right might actually look like. We none of us have any problem naming overtly left-wing plays or their playwrights: names like David Edgar, Caryl Churchill, Trevor Griffiths and David Hare fall into conversation with ease. By contrast, even defining an overtly right-wing play, let alone identifying one, is apparently impossible.

One director, whose identity I will protect to save their blushes, baldly announces that they would “never put on a play that was racist or sexist.” I point out this is a pretty Neanderthal reading of neo-conservatism. We have one of the most right-wing presidents in US history in George W Bush, and yet he chose a black woman as his Secretary of State… Abigail Morris, a former artistic director of the Soho Theatre, describes how she used to receive plays in which a rape would take place “and the woman would start to enjoy it. I suppose you could call that right-wing.”

At various times, and in various conversations, I wonder out loud whether any of them could imagine a play that challenged, say, the values of multiculturalism. Mostly I am met with baffled silences. Sir Peter Hall sums it up for me when he says: “I’m sure there are people who would like to write that sort of play, but they would fear it wouldn’t be acceptable.”

Update, via the comments:

Rayner makes another interesting observation:

Time and again I am told that the job of theatre is to challenge the status quo and that this, necessarily, means it must come from the left. When I point out that the status quo now is the left, there are two clear responses. The first is to switch tack slightly and argue, as Michael Boyd of the RSC does, that “the job of the arts is to discomfort any orthodoxy”, whether it be from left or right. The second, which Lisa Goldman at the Soho Theatre most cleanly articulates, is simply to question the notion that there is even the slightest tinge of red to the current establishment. “I don’t think the status quo is left-wing at all,” she says. “Though there is, I suppose, a liberalism to it.”

An oppositional self-image is very important to some people, most often to people on the left, and particularly to artists. But in order to maintain the appearance of being anti-establishment or anti-bourgeois or whatever, the nature of mainstream bourgeois culture (and how it has changed) may have to be ignored or distorted, and the views of one’s political opponents may have to be caricatured. Hence the denial of theatre’s left-leaning tendency, and that of contemporary art more generally; and hence the claim that a fondness for racism and rape is a marker of “right wing” politics. 

More. Not entirely unrelated. And. 

The much–publicised launch of Sunny Hundal’s Liberal Conspiracy blog has already produced a fine moment of inadvertent comedy, and possibly a revealing one. In a post titled We Need Our Own Space, Guardian contributor Zohra Moosa bemoans the troublesome obligation to substantiate her politics with, you know, evidence and argument.

“I’m a little bit tired of spending so much of my time defending the most basic principles of what I stand for. It serves to distract. What I need is a safer space where I don’t lose so much energy justifying why social and environmental justice are worth spending a lot of society’s money on. What I want is a space where these ideas are a given and the debate is about how best to actualize them…”

A “safer space” is, presumably, a kind of echo chamber – one in which basic assumptions remain conveniently unquesti0ned, and in which such loaded terms as “society’s money” and “social and environmental justice” can be used freely and without clear definition. Principles are, of course, so much easier to have if one isn’t obliged to defend them or explain how they might work. Being clear about what one is arguing for – and keen to spend “a lot of society’s money on” – would, it seems, be a wearying distraction. Instead, Ms Moosa wishes to “actualize” her politics, which, I’m sure, is a comfort to us all. 

On a still more reassuring note, Ms Moosa also wishes to be “inspired by the good and the great to imagine what is possible – in that place where all life prospers,” and to have “conversations with people that are constructive, compassionate and rigorous… conversations that are both logical and passionate.” Though, given the previous paragraph, one might suspect that “passion” is of much greater importance to Ms Moosa than logic, or tiresome explanations.

Related. 

Tan and shower simultaneously. “Will revolutionise the experience of showering.” // Avalanche-retardant clothing. If the mountain should attack. // Bacon popcorn. // Bacon chocolate. // The Museum of Ham. // Humanoid shelving unit. // More Japanese manhole covers. // Cube games. // Christophe Huet. More. // Are You Ready For Marriage? (1950) The folks don’t approve. // The Moon in HD. Video. // Google Earth flight simulator. // A gallery of car parks. (h/t, 1+1=3.) // Professor Bob Carter on carbon dioxide, climate change and gross credulity. Part 2, 3, 4. (h/t, The Thin Man.) // Deogolwulf on fuzzwords. Warm impressions, meaning unclear. // Alan Dershowitz on interrogation. “Would you authorize the use of non-lethal forms of torture if you believed it was the only possible way of saving lives?” (h/t, Cookslaw.) // Robert Spencer on “creating dialogue.” // Christopher Hitchens on whose fault it is. “Perhaps it will be admitted, however grudgingly and belatedly, that there is something sui generis about Islamist fanaticism: something that is looking for a confrontation…” // Councillor opposes Tablighi Jamaat’s plans to build “mega-mosque” in London. Video “obituary” appears, featuring councillor and his family. More on Tablighi Jamaat. And. // The United States of Islam. And then the world. // Racing robot cars. // Iron Man teaser. // John Carpenter’s The Thing retold in Lego. // Via Coudal, a short history of TV science fiction. Captain Video, Time Tunnel, Rocky Jones: Space Ranger. // Aerosol pancakes. A miracle breakthrough. // Winsor McCay’s Dream of the Rarebit Fiend. Indigestion fantasies. // And finally, via The Thin Man, Miss Dinah Washington.