more evidence regarding the selfish ingratitude displayed by modern youth…

After the terrible setback I suffered yesterday at the editorial meeting of ‘Le Moderne Edwardian’, I resolved to pay a visit to young Crispin. Perhaps to throw around a few ideas. I was also curious about how he was enjoying the radio I had delivered to him. I could just picture him listening to soothing yet cultured pieces on Radio 3.

I strolled on over to his apartment (as usual the door was unlocked) and walked straight in. There was absolute silence in the place. Surely he must in. I can’t imagine that he would have gone out and left the place unlocked.

I walked into his study and found him sitting in a chair, eyes closed, feet on his desk, a pair of earphones attached to his head and humming away to himself.

I quickly strode over, ripped the devices out of his ears, and shouted “Pray tell me Crispin. What are you listening to now?” I placed one of the protuberances to my ear and heard what I can only describe as a deafening cacophony.

“WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” I bellowed at Crispin.

“Listening to my iPod” he replied.

“OF ALL THE INGRATITUDE!” I shouted, “I SMASHED YOUR STEREO TO PREVENT YOU LISTENING TO THIS DEBILITATING DRIVEL! THEN I ARRANGE FOR A RADIO TO BE SENT ROUND SO THAT YOU CAN LISTEN TO CLASSICAL MUSIC…THEN YOU GO BEHIND MY BACK…AND DO…THIS!!!”

In a fit of uncontrollable anger I grabbed his ‘IPAD’ and threw it out of his window. I watched it drop onto the road, then a few seconds later a Taxi drove over it and crushed it to pieces.

Crispin started to get hysterical. “Nigel”, he pleaded, “I had loads of music on that iPod. Now its all gone. And they aren’t exactly cheap either. And I had to pay for the music too…I reckon that is about a thousand pounds that you have just flung out of the window!”

I simply was not interested in Crispin’s pathetic protestations. My interest was suddenly caught by a huge cabinet of Compact Discs that covered an entire length of a room. I had never really paid this much attention before, as I assumed that it was full of Classical Music. I started browsing through them. All had strange names, such as Autechre, Aphex Twin, Coil, The Fall, Ministry, Thrones…and so on…

“And what are these?” I demanded.

“My CD collection.” he replied. “I’ll have you know that I have one of the finest collections of ambient and alternative music in West London…”

“WHAT?” I shouted. “Have I taught you nothing Crispin. Yes, you may wish to learn from me, but I warned you at the outset that such learning does not come without a price…AWAY WITH THESE… Fetch me a bin-liner. I’m afraid its off to the charity shop with these…No…not to a charity shop…that will only give some other poor unfortunate soul the opportunity to POLLUTE their tastes…I’m afraid these will need to go to the rubbish dump…”

“Wait…Nigel…I have something important to tell you…”

“Yes…”

“I was approached by ‘Le Moderne Edwardian’ the other day. They want me to become a lead writer in cutting edge music and cultural issues…”

“AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!”

I picked up a telephone and brought it crashing down on Crispin’s head. He crumpled to the floor and lay motionless. I appeared to have killed Crispin. That is not good. Questions will be asked. I will need to prepare my defense. Of course I will claim that it was a necessary and unavoidable action done in the name of art and culture. I’m sure that any jury composed of modern cultured gentlemen will accept the necessity and find me ‘not guilty’.

I stood there lost in my thoughts for a while until I heard some mumbling coming from below. I looked down. The mumblings appeared to be emanating from the corpses mouth. I had to strain to understand the meaning…suddenly Crispin staggered to his feet and whimpered “Get out of here Nigel, you…lunatic…”