I read this description of the grate* man the other day.  I think it’s very apt.

Now, I’m not a big fan of cars for their own sake, although I will concede that they are a perfectly good way of getting your shopping home, or taking you out somewhere.  However, as for drooling over their sleek lines or smooth acceleration upto 60mph in less than 3 minutes forget it, I’m not interested.  The other two, I quite like.  James May and Richard Hammond could and indeed do present other programmes that I quite happily watch.

The other day, I was wondering why this should be the case.  It’s really quite a difficult thing to put your finger on.  I mean there are other undesirables on TV, Lord knows.  But Jeremy Clarkson just seems to ooze something – you can’t see it, or smell it and you certainly can’t touch it – it’s intangible.  The biggest part of it is his casual xenophobia, always delivered with a smug, if unspoken, “we’re British you know.”  Unparalleled wanker.

* Yes, I know – it’s deliberate.  I spelled it like that because he really grates on me, I mean really grates on me.