1. Don't listen to the Today programme on Radio 4 in the mornings, listen to Radio 3 instead
For those who've never heard it, 'Today' is BBC Radio 4's flagship news and current affairs prog, which runs daily from 6am to 9am. It is a barrage of stress-inducing verbal noise, made up of aggressive interviews with MPs, local councillors, union leaders, bishops etc and comment from academics and 'experts'. Fine in itself, but the very worst thing that could happen to you first thing in the morning when you're trying to remember who you are and why you exist. You might just as well fall straight out of bed into the North Sea.
People listen because they think it's good for them, that it's keeping them up to date, but in actual fact, every prog is exactly the same as the last. Only the names are different. All the interviews follow the same format - civil to angry to exasperated to angrier - each interviewee speaks in one of three available tones and with exactly the same degree of confidence, regardless of age, experience etc (why do none of them ever sound nervous?) and employs off-the-peg responses from a stock range. They could replace tomorrow's edition with one from 3 months ago and no one would bloody notice.
The result of this is that all the time you think you're learning something new, it's confirming everything you learned a decade ago. It's telling you that it's Business As Usual, that the world is still as shit now as it was yesterday, and the day before etc, and that there is bugger all you can do about it so you might just as well get that bus into work, keep your head down and make sure you look miserable while you're doing it. It beats you into submission before you've even had a chance to wake up.
Compare to 'Morning on 3', which goes out at the same time on Radio 3, with it's lovely chirpy presenters (Penny Gore is especially lovely) and well thought out programme of short, accessible classics, carefully designed to help you through the delicate process of waking up. It starts off with something mathematical and meandering like Bach, which gives your befuddled monkey brain something reassuring to hang on to while the rest of your personality boots up, and fills your head with pleasant images of dandies prancing about formal gardens. It then progresses, through a series of boosts in musical juiciness, to the sort of rousing, romantic romp that makes you think of sailors in sou'westers battling against fierce Atlantic storms - just the thing to send you out the door with a bounce in your step and a determination to do Righteous Things.
With everyone listening to the latter instead of the former, I foresee a significant reduction in the Global Grumpiness Surplus |
