There follows an open letter to Mr Graham Norton at the BBC.
You will understand if I am not my normal cheery self at this distressing time.
I am a struggling, but talented, young artist, whose aspirations have been cruelly dashed by you.
I wonder whether you ever consider the power that you wield, and the dramatic impact it can have on those of us who only dream of having our talents recognised.
Over the past few years I have, in the manner of my near neighbour Jane Austen, fostered ambitions of becoming a writer of note. Unlike Ms Austen, I do not advertise my house on tatty signs at the side of the road, but instead have sought to promote my work through the medium of the internet. I have built up a small but enthusiastic following of devoted readers, who look to me for advice and counsel about the difficulties associated with living in these times. I allow them to contribute by comment on my writings.
These last few days I have been surprised by the increased numbers of visitors. "Scurra," I exclaimed to myself, "Your time is coming, your ability is about to receive the recognition that is its due". Then, this evening I watched my recording of your latest program, featuring Ms Dawn French and Ms Sarah Beeny. Regrettably, the content of your program soon deteriorated, and the matter of Ms Beeny's chest became the focus of your conversation. "Google me", she advised, "and you will see that people are interested in my chest".
Due to the naughtiness of my friend Tom, who suggested in one of his comments that should I watch one of Sarah's programs, my attention would be drawn to her 'tits', I am high on the Google list of links to "Sarah Beeny's tits". It was this, not my wisdom, my style so redolent of Anthony Trollope or the serious topics upon which I discourse, that drew my visitors.
I suppose that I should thank you for disabusing me of the idea that I had anything worthwhile to offer.
I am going now, to resume my career in the business world. Heaven knows how many Keats or Dostoevskys have been treated in a similar cruel manner by those, who like yourself, think nothing of the lives of ordinary folk.
I have to say that this is the first time I have ever seen Sarah Beeny. At the risk of being described as a pervert, my preference would be to engage with her in conversation rather than see her tits. She seemed a jolly nice young lady, and blessed with a pleasant and witty conversational style. I understand that she is involved in one of these home improvement programmes that are everywhere on television these days, so she must be a bit thick.