The Western world’s élite media set are not obsessed with Brexit: they are hell-bent on the destruction of everything Brexit is about. Cast adrift by the very politicians who claim to represent them, the People of Britain have one remaining weapon – electoral blackmail to threaten the political class with extinction.

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I confess to feeling a little sorry at the moment for all those hungry cats chased up trees in which they are now stuck. All over Britain, the trees are full of felines starving to death because there’s no room on news bulletins or in tabloids for those little snippets that make us go “Aaaah!”

Although such items are always referred to as “human interest” stories, it is amazing how often they feature animals.

But for now, I see no octopus about to predict the result of the Grand National, no kittens whose best friend is a…

There’s a mild kind of bullshit which is common, entirely understandable, and produced by many of us, including me. But it’s insidious, and I’ll suggest that it might contribute to bigger problems.

Bullshit as Harry Frankfurt characterises it – in contrast to Jerry Cohen’s notion of bullshit – involves phoniness, indifference to truth. (See my earlier post for a comparison of Frankfurt’s and Cohen’s notions of bullshit, and some examples.)

In my view, bullshit is a matter of degree, and a mild form of Frankfurt-bullshit can often be found on TV, especially at the start of programmes.

Here are two recent examples from British television. The first is from top chef Michel Roux Jr., or rather, from whoever wrote the words which he read out at the start of the programme:

There’s nothing I’m more passionate about than what, how and why we eat and drink. … Something I’m obsessed…