Since the cantering captain posted almost a year ago this article has moved up to 3rd place on the Google search list. I think it is imperative that we make this the no.1 most read article about Lovejoy therefore I encourage everyone to google this article as much as possible. Get your friends and family to join in too and hopefully this will soon be the most read article about the talentless pillock!
A couple of former Xfm DJs with whom I've worked suggested that Lovejoy might be the biggest tw*t in all Christendom. Apparently regularly referred to himself (non-ironically) in the third person - and if that isn't indication of being a total twonk, then I don't know what is.
God almighty ... I've never seen so many erections devoted to one book review and so much worship excreted over one reviewer.
Give it a rest scribblers! It's not as if Lovejoy is a difficult target to hit and not as if anything he is involved in can't be easily lampooned by any lazy writer.
There's loads of books that should not have seen the light of day, after all 98% of all books ever published have been after 1962, and yet the approbation married to this review amounts to some collective belief that of all of those Lovejoy's is the absolute nadir.
One real piece of b*llocks I read recently was Tom Oldfield's 'Arsene Wenger, Pure Genius' by John Blake publishers, 2008. For 17 pounds 99 pence you don't need to google the name Arsene Wenger ... oh no. Tom's done it for you in a handy volume. Yeah, thanks Tom, you tit.
But even Tom's is hardly the worst offender. The barrel scraping has extended to the TV.
Apart from having Carlos Alberto's goal rammed down by tight throat as 'it's definitely absolutely, got to be the best f*cking goal ever scored, indeed it's so good it's even better than John Barnes goal in the Maracana in 1984' by such geniuses as Rio 'der der der' Ferdinand and Olly 'doo doo doo' Murs. (Actually, Alberto's goal was scored in the 86th minute, in heat that must have felt like you were playing in a blanket and when the opposition were 3-1 down; hardly conducive to the Italians' really trying that much. And Barnes goal was played, if memory serves, on a 10th rate pitch against a 12th rate Brazilian side so sh*t poor that even Mark 'I played for Portsmouth, me, when they were really sh*t' Hateley scored. But I daren't devalue Barnes' work of *genius* in case that fat talking head i/viewed on the Channel 5 starts calling me a daft Nazi racist for having the audacity to down play the apparent 'legend' that is Sir John).
Recently on Channel 5 in the run up to the World Cup, the channel ran a delightfully named England's Worst Ever Football Team.
So Channel 5 production team of 20 somethings from Raynes' Park (or wherever they get 'em these days) all smashed together a brillyant (for that is how they pronounce it there) idea. 'Hey, let's get some unknown stand up comedians together and go close up on their faces and get them to slag off some footballers who WE BELIEVE should never had worn THE THREE LIONS'.
I've a better idea. Why not get luminaries like Clarke Carlisle, Robbie Savage, Mark Lawrenson and whoever Daniel Murphy thinks he is to sit there and slag off unknown stand up comedians. That way we could have killed two birds with one stone.
1. We could have saved the ludicrous generosity (shown by ITV advertisers and BBC administrators in charge of divvying out the licence fee) on sending those knob jockeys to Brazil to state the bleeding obvious for a month at ridiculous expense (...another beer chaps? How's your hotel, Clarke? Smashing view, eh?); and,
2. We could have balanced what was clearly a skewed concept. For if comedians who have never played at any appreciable level can slag off the high point of a bunch of footballers, why not get some footballers to slag off some total tossers who scrape a living making drunk polytechnics guffaw into their snake bite and blacks by saying things like 'what's THAT all about'?
And while I'm on the topic of the co-commentators, I just hope that next time ... England sends out a team of 'pundits' who have actually been there and done it. And not the likes of Clarke Carlisle, bless him, who's international career amounted to bumping shoulders at U21 level but feels suitably experienced to slag off players who have played at a comfortably higher level than he can ever wet dream himself about.
And don't even get me started on Robert Savage, Daniel Murphy, Alan ('I get £40k per episode for stringing loads of adjectives together, I don't accept I single-handedly caused Scotland's elimination from the 1982 World Cup and still rankle that I only got picked 26 times for Scotland - that's not Brazil or Argentina, that's SCOTLAND') Hansen or the boring nasal nonsense that is Mark Lawrenson.
Knob jockeys is a bit shit, when you think about it.
So, I know a lad who works on that 'Sunday Brunch' show with Lovejoy, and it came up in conversation when me & a mate saw him the other week 'he's not as bad as he used to be' was his considered opinion.
You see, ashleyhyne, the plaudits for the review are as much for the prose as for the actual content.
You have just posted a very long post. Re-read it soberly and you will find that writing elegantly and coherently over longer passages while maintaining a thread and giving entertainment value is not very easy at all.
Then re-read Taylor's review, not for the content of its arguments, but for the quality of writing and structure which frame the demolition of Lovejoy's book, and try to discern the artistry made freely available to you.
If you are still unconvinced after that, read again your long, rambling post.
Well I've sobered up (too much tizer and asprin again, damn) and have re-read my 'very long post' G-man and I've also read Taylor's elegantly and coherently written and structured piece of art and have come to this startling conclusion.
If writing a vitriolic book review about a bell-end like Lovejoy counts as 'art' then I can toss my print of Benefits Supervisor Sleeping, my copy of Dubliners and my print of the 1932-35 Arsenal squad in the nearest bin.
And if that is defined as art then please define this: what do you call it when loads of people pick on one individual?