A little news headline about the Borsetshire crater from earlier in my 2011.
Archers fan? Hmm, perhaps not a die hard, but I had it in my list of regular podcast listens and since the advent of the Internet and listen again on the BBC I had very much enjoyed catching up with characters I had not heard from for nearly 20 years. Mostly familiar from when I had listened in on the wireless when younger and living on the isle of blight. I had noticed over the past few years how some kind of plot pooh was thrust through the bars at me every Christmas in a nasty but obvious twist, so I was slightly on my guard this year.
Living in Japan had isolated me from the world of Ambridge and now it has been taken away forever. The disgusting episode they came up with for their 60th anniversary was a complete turn off and in my universe there is now just a large crater where the mythical village used to stand. After I listened I did a little searching on the web to see if there was any opinion on the subject and it seemed that many long term listeners were also left inwardly staring at a crater. The woman editor of the series is obviously some kind of skilled psychologist, I no longer even think about listening in, I presume she must be the master pooh flinger I had perceived in the wings over the past few years.
Perhaps she might find her calling working on some kind of drug addiction or anti smoking campaign, she clearly has a talent for putting people off things. Her own comments seemed to indicate she was happy that so many people were so upset with her efforts as it meant publicity for her show. Sad that these kind of dictators are allowed to rule even in the opiate world of soap opera. Smug flingers are by far the worst. Some people even commented that they had enjoyed the program, I think reading that was when I realized I was no longer in the same universe of listenerdom.
I hate it when a bad bit of writing appears on the horizon and you can see it coming down on you from miles away while you are strapped to the tracks. At first one hopes one is wrong, but then the horrific unstoppable sadism of the person wielding the typewriter slams into you and if you are lucky you wake up with a start before the train hits, I am afraid I just lay there while it ran over me. Clearly some people enjoy just that very same thing.
I suppose the crater is my way of avoiding the intolerable reality that all except Nigel and those others who escaped through earlier deaths are now doomed to live out their fictional lives under the tyranny of Ms. Whitburn. As for the real world actors, wow, what terrible suffering.
I feel very sorry for the rest of the village who were all killed in the disaster. I think I will miss Jill most. When I get a little older perhaps I will take up bee keeping as a tribute.