Diary – 15 May 2004

Having once reviewed TV for a living, I obviously never watch the damn thing at all these days if I can help it. But like many males of my age and temperament, I was engrossed late last year by a series called Grumpy Old Men, in which celebrities railed in a futile but well-paid manner against some of the iniquities of the modern world. Some of these men were funny, others were just furious, while a few had obviously been chosen because they were celebrities, and not because they had anything of the slightest interest to say. But never mind. The extraordinary impact of this programme confirmed my own long-held conviction that rage is the emotion of the day. Love is all around, said Richard Curtis in his film Love, Actually. But how did most people respond to this message? With pure, untrammelled rage. I used to be a kind and gentle soul, well disposed to small furry animals and with a smile for pretty much everyone (other than estate agents and Nazi war criminals).