The Guardian has wrecked itself 

It’s so strange now to think that I spent several happy years as a Guardian columnist, the only billet from which I’ve ever garnered a stand-alone anthology – The Guardian Columns 1998 – 2000: 

There is no other commentator who can turn received wisdom on its head like Burchill… no other journalist who can combine such relentless insight, malice and warmth to deserving causes. She is one of the best columnists around – an antidote to the glut of confession columns that saturate the weekend papers. 

Huzzah! 

Admittedly we fell out when I asked for a raise and they offered me a sofa instead – is it ‘cos I is a chav? – but then, they offered my friend, also a woman of working-class origin, a new kitchen. And there was the fact that by 2003 I was finding the ceaseless obsession with the wrong-doings of Israel suspiciously like the Socialism of Fools. And then the Times offered me three times the money to leave.