Why I hate Quentin Letts

The problem with employing Gollum to write about politics

You shouldn’t hate people… blah, blah, blah. Hate is ageing… blah, blah, blah. Well, I use a good moisturiser and I… strongly dislike Quentin Letts.

I’ve only encountered the poisoned goblin of political sketch writing once. I was reviewing a play about Marty Feldman for Front Row, and he was there too, slouching about and making a spectacle of himself in the small theatre space. The Letts Make A Fool Of Ourselves show was in town and it meant far more than the actual play taking place on the stage, at least in the proscenium arch of Quentin’s ego.

Day in, day out, Quentin Letts traffics misogyny and malevolence in his parliamentary sketch for The Times (of London, as my American friends insist on calling it).

No female MP is safe from Quentin’s sweaty-palmed attentions in print. The man has never met a woman he can’t condescend to.

Here are some recent examples:

So why does The Times keep publishing this weasel man?

1 He says things the editors would like to say but need some deniability from.

2 He’s been the unflushed turd in the bowl of British journalism for so long that at this point he’s considered a ‘star’ and a ‘brand’ by people who have long since allowed their brains to wither like California raisins

3 We live in the worst possible timeline.

There you go; that’s why I dislike Quentin Letts.