His Royal Fryness

I've just bought a packet of Harvest Fare chilli peanuts, and there's a long sticker on the pack that says "Peal and Seal." I'm assuming this is a misprint, and I don't have to go bell-ringing before I close the packet.

But I'm not dwelling on spelling mistakes today, because recently I saw an out-take of QI. It featured Stephen Fry correcting Alan Davies' grammar, because Davies said "none of them work." It is, in fact, "none of them works," said Stephen Fry. None, you see, is an abbreviation of "not one". So "Not one of them works." And, at this point, I had an extraordinary epiphany. It washed over me like a cleansing balm, leaving me with the hazy sense of post-climactic release you sometimes attain when you've realised a great truth in your life. It was a glorious realisation, and it was this: -

Stephen Fry is an absolute twat.

I'd be lying if I'd said I had an instant flip in my attitudes; I've been uncomfortable with him for a long time. However, I've never quite had the courage of my convictions before. My sudden, inalterable realisation that he's an enormous wanker has solved a lot of inconsistencies in my outlook. Now, the world makes a bit more sense than it did yesterday.

I mean, let's be fair about this. It's not like Fry's actually evil or anything. He's clearly a perfectly decent kind of fella, even if he would bore you senseless if you had to talk to him alone for an hour. The best way to judge the worth of a person is to ask yourself how you'd manage if you had to journey from Dublin to Cork in a car with him. So we know that Dara O'Briain's a fairly good guy, because you can tell that he wouldn't try and talk all the time, would engage you in conversation, and be quite happy to let you doze off for a bit. We know Russell Brand's an absolute shit because you'd have thumped the fucker before you reached Portlaoise. As for Stephen Fry... you'd thank him politely for a lift, sod off with a sense of relief, and always come up with an excuse the next time you saw him. He's not odious, or offensive, or nasty. He just happens to be a pompous, self-satisfied arse who hasn't said anything of note for something like twenty years, and yet still preens himself at the top of the media tree as some sort of highbrow demigod. We're talking about a guy who shows how 'clever' he is by correcting Alan Davies' grammar.

I mean, really, how completely priggish.

And amusingly, it's the latest thing Stevo has decided talk about. You can check out his blog here, if you are so inclined, although I don't know why you would be:-

http://www.stephenfry.com/blog

...and the latest entry is about language. I think it's Stephen telling the grammar bullies to sod off and allow people to just, express themselves, man, but he's doing it in a way that makes it abundantly clear that he knows more words than any of the thick fuckers reading the thing. The third paragraph somehow takes 200 words to explain the difference between language as a concept, language in use - i.e. the abstract idea of language, as opposed to the words someone has just spoken right now. Hmm. It ain't that complex, is it? And yet this contradiction is always how Stephen Fry operates; tell everyone they can do what they like, and yet make it abundantly clear that he's better at it than you. Look at his latest project, Stephen Fry in America, in which he says "I have always wanted to get right under the skin of American life. To know what it really is to be American, to have grown up and been schooled as an American; to work and play as an American; to romance, labour, succeed, fail, feud, fight, vote, shop, drift, dream and drop out as an American; to grow ill and grow old as an American." Which is all very well, until you see how much he's treating it as a holiday in ZanyWorld, and how he represents the sane, wonderful centre of balanced behaviour.

I could possibly analyse the many other things I dislike about Stephen Fry - his snobbishness, his friendship with Prince Charles, and his ridiculous affectation of driving a black cab around the place and making sure everyone knows it. Or I could talk about him being bipolar; people know this because he made a programme about it, and cast himself as the star. For some reason this is considered "brave", rather than "egotistical", but when you call the programme "Stephen Fry - The Secret Life of the Manic-Depressive" you sort of lose the bravery tag. Documentary film-makers who put themselves at the centre of their own documentaries can sod right off. Brave? Brave????

But I can't be bothered. Instead, here are some demonstrative quotes:-

- "The rest of the world is so pleased and happy for you, America. I'm (almost) dancing with relief."

Where to begin? I'm sorry, but you really do have to wonder about someone who takes it on themselves to talk to the American nation. There are just too many things wrong with someone who addresses 250 million people as if they'd give a flying fuck what he thinks, but the use of the word "relief" is what rankles. Why not "elation"? Why not "delight"? "Relief" is just patronising, a pat on the head for an idiot child who somehow managed to get a sum right. So, has anyone counted the number of leading black politicians in Britland? It's... oh right, it's zero isn't it?

- "One of the reasons we like programmes like this is not because they are nostalgic but that they remind us that the world is not entirely overrun by pikey, chavvy, hoodie people who don't respect anything, who are inconsiderate of other people's lives, and destinies and past."

Jesus Christ. This is ridiculous even before you realise that Stephen Fry was talking about Kingdom, which you might remember as... oh no, you probably don't remember it, do you? It was a programme set in Norfolk in which Fry played a terribly nice lawyer, and was one of those shows where everything looked leafy and everyone was just very sweet deep down don't you know. In short, it was shit, and I found it inconsiderate of my life by taking up airtime that could have been occupied by The Wire. Or pornography. So to hear Stephen Fry trying to glorify the creeping blandness that has subsumed television, and do so in pseudo-intellectual terms... seriously, what a dick.

- "I am a lover of truth, a worshipper of freedom, a celebrant at the altar of language and purity and tolerance."

...and a bit of a sanctimonious shit?

- "Unfortunately, I've had to pull out of the Dr Who gig. Lack of time. I couldn't find three minutes to string together. Barely enough time to go to the lavatory these days, let alone take on new projects."

And here we arrive at the nub of the matter. Stephen Fry has made a programme about himself travelling around America; a programme about himself being manic-depressive; QI, which is quite good, but consists of him appearing to be very clever by reading out facts that other people have researched; pretending to be a lawyer in Norfolk; writing columns and various drivelling inanities on his blog; and generally acting like the Great National Treasure that he so courts. But when he had a chance to do something good, something that millions of young and ordinary and non-posh people might actually enjoy, he couldn't be bothered. For that reason alone, he shall be forever considered a twat, along with Jeremy Clarkson and Louis Walsh.

I'll still watch QI though.