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Our Crack Little Crack
I’ve got an affliction that I don’t know the name of
I’ve got an affliction that I don’t know the name of. How does it
manifest itself? Well, I have a peculiar need to make others feel smug
about themselves at my own expense. This happened last week when I had
three separate conversations about that ITV drama concerning serial
killer Dennis Nilsen – which starred David Tennant as the murderer. To
each of the three people I said, “David Tennant’s Scottish accent was
superb” (Nilsen was born in Scotland). I know full well that Tennant is
Scottish, but I got a huge kick out of hearing people say, “You idiot!
David Tennant IS Scottish.” Crazy, huh. But I have to admit, I only
lasted 20 minutes of the ITV show. Two reasons: 1. The coppers catch
Nilsen in the first five minutes of episode 1 (sample dialogue:
Policeman: “Did you kill him?” Nilsen: “Yes. The body is in the
cupboard.”) WHERE’S THE JEOPARDY? And, perhaps more pertinently, 2. I
misread the Radio Times listing. I thought I was tuning in to a
three-part drama about Dennis Wilson, the drummer out of the Beach Boys.
The fact that it took me 20 minutes to work out that I wasn’t, perhaps
speaks of another affliction I may have.