So, the other night I was watching Location, Location, Location on Channel 4, when I posted the following hateful tweet;
…following which, I received responses that suggest that a proportion of people do not share my humour, or my hatred of Phil and Kirstie.
Just in case you are lucky enough to have avoided Phillip and Kirsten, the show Location, Location, Location basically revolves around the aforedeaththreatened hosts showing a wealthy couple around three houses, one of which they might buy, after sneering at some others. Phil is a bumbling, mid level estate agent, and Kirstie is a hideous screech from the bowels of the Home Counties, like Margot from The Good Life except without the humour or the occasional moment of heartbreaking self awareness, and taken seriously by Daily Mail readers England wide.
But surely this is not reason enough for my hideous gut feelings of hatred. It doesn’t help that Kirstie Allsop also suggested that women shouldn’t focus on obtaining university degrees and should become better cooks, baby producers and come-dumpsters (paraphrase authors own). But many people I like and respect have said idiotic things. I am four posts into this blog and I have probably said at least seven.
So. What was it? I was genuinely wondering this, as I switched from the tedium of Tory voting Countryside Alliance morons gawping at brickwork in rural villages to the comfort of Grey’s Anatomy (screw you, Shonda Rhimes is a genius), and seeing judgemental tweets from the decency police popping up in my notification window.
Then I realised the answer- it’s feeding our continued downfall. When the Global Financial Crisis hit* in 2008, for us in the UK, the main reasons appears to be the banks running out of money, largely due to offering too much credit to people, largely lent on ridiculous mortgages so normal people could afford houses at the ridiculous inflated prices.
My knowledge of these inflated prices off the top of my head is limited. However, I’ll do what politicians do here, and give a personal example which must be true for everybody. About 16 years ago, my parents bought a house, at a reasonable price, in a small seaside town in the South East. In the 16 years since, it has become worth six times more than when it was bought in 1998. What has happened. Has the price of bricks sextrupled in 16 years? Can bricks only be made through some expensive, high scientific, synthesis? Has half the land dissappeared beneath the sea?
No. What has happened is people have been convinced homes are investments. Investments that will earn interest at around 26 times the rate of a high yield investment. Rather than four walls and a roof to shelter you and your loved ones.
This hyperinflation is, of course unsustainable, and while we appear to have clamped down on the banks (a tiny bit), and the recipient’s of loans (a lot, because people matter less than corporations), nothing has been done to regulate the housing industry. Indeed, our current recovery seems built on this. Like the eejit who built his house on the sand in the song I used to have to sing at primary school.
For example, second homes still get council tax breaks, utility bill reductions and the like, and property developers appear to be able to ride roughshod over any social obligations they are supposed to have with a wave of their magic bag of money.
And the propaganda arm of this repellent, unsustainable movement is the property porn that dominates certain evenings on Channel 4 and the daytime schedule at the BBC. I am fairly sure that this ridiculousness can be linked back to the moment that Sarah Beeny first crawled out from her primordial two up, two down and the angel of death blew it’s signature ‘chook-chooka’ signifying the start of 60 Minute Makeover.
So, my hatred is not entirely of these two people, who much like Joseph Goebbels or Alastair Campbell, probably love their mothers and would be perfectly pleasant over a pint of craft beer and a bag of sea salt and balsamic vinegar crisps in a West London gastropub. But I hate what their show represents, one of the greatest threats to a fair society, being pissed up the wall in the name of Entertainment.
Oh. And don’t get me started on their part in turning the words ‘vintage’ and ‘retro’ to needles in my ear.
*Global Financial Crisis is a crap name. Compared to say, the Wall Street Crash, or Black Monday, or Taco Tuesday. It’s almost like they’re trying to make it so boring we don’t pay it enough mind…