Rant of the Week: No-one cares.

I have read that the blogger known as "Belle de Jour" has finished blogging.

Newsflash: NO-ONE CARES!!!!!!

Well, that's not strictly true. Sad London-centric trendies / journalists care. This is the only explanation for the fact that this non-event made page 2 of the Guardian on Saturday. Below is the opening paragraph from this article:

'Her web diaries have intrigued as much as they have titillated. Journalists, literary detectives and showbusiness agents have long puzzled over the identity of Belle de Jour, the blogger who chronicled life as a London call girl. '

Now, there are many things to take issue with here.

Firstly they have not intrigued. There is no intrigue in her writing. It is functional, and it is designed for lots of sad gits to jerk off over their powerbooks too. So I guess, credit where credit is due, it has "titillated".

The next bit: Journalists and showbusiness agents may have long puzzled over her identity, but that's because they have fuck-all to do with their time. The vast majority of them are pointless wasters who should burn in the fires of Hades. I very much doubt literary detectives have given THAT much of a shit to be perfectly - they've got far more important things to worry about.

Now, apparently, on the basis of her blog, she's got a six book deal. Now is this entirely down to literary merit do we think, or is it more likely that they heard the pitch "she's a call girl..." and immediately said "quick, let's sign her!". Let's not beat around the bush - sex sells, and that's why she's making the leap to the big league.

This annoys me, for many reasons. Firstly, this kind of thing has been done before, and in far better a manner. For an example see The Sexual Life of Catherine M, by Catherine Millet (First published in French as La Vie sexuelle de Catherine M. in 2001).

Secondly, it annoys me that someone like this can "jump the queue" because of her content. I have several friends who have been struggling to get their work published and out in the open for years, and a good deal of it in my opinion is far more enjoyable than any of "Belle..."'s pretentious waffle. But they're not talking about shagging so they're not going to get a publisher.

Of course, in all the above I am conclusively disproving my opening point that no-one cares. Quite clearly, I care. Although for entirely different reasons to those envisaged. You'd expect crap like this to get onto the pages of the Sun, but page 2 of the Guardian?!!!!

I'm probably coming across as bitter and envious, as it surely is every blogger's dream that they get picked up on by a publisher, and their works would make them lots of money and famous (I would deny this charge, but I'd be lying - deep down part of me would love that).

But for me this issue, more than anything else, has served to highlight the "too cool for school, London-centric" focus of the media these days. You can imagine crowds of media-luvvy-types stood round at a highly exclusive party going "ya, ya, but who IS Belle de Jour, darling?" and thinking that because they care, surely everyone else should too. These people need to get over it. I'm sick to death of being sneered at by trendy people with their fashion mullets because I happen not to be wearing the latest t-shirt from Abercrombie and fucking Felch. These people need to fuck off and die.

And there's a special message for one of them who drives a silver Lotus Elise, who helpfully gave me the wanker sign out of his window yesterday because I wasn't speeding, but doing the speed limit. If I ever see you again, I will smash your fingers into a bloody pulp using the door of your car, then reverse it very slowly over your head.