why i'll never b e interviewed A repeating laugh

Thursday 7 October 2021

Why I'll never be Inteviewed

Why I’ll never be Interviewed ©

By

Michael Casey

We’ve all heard and seen interviews, even the pretend ones in newspapers where 20 questions, ok 8, are asked and answered. It’s just an email back and a reply really. I saw one with Frodo recently, and frankly they are a waste of time, a page filler. Frodo will mount a quest now against me. Sorry I just had to take some pain killer, I saw an interview once with the writer of the Singing Detective and he had to pause and swig morphine, so luckily I’m not that bad, though in the middle of it, you just wish lots of things.

So why should I hate interviews, or rather interviewers? Well they don’t listen to start with, if you are talking to me I actually want to be talked to, not processed. Not scanned at a supermarket checkout by a bored girl. Though me being me, I always start a conversation, and yes they do wish I was a tin of beans, though I do fart as much. So, it’s a question of attitude, and the Irish in me wants words, not silence, silence is for lambs. Also describing a page is never as good as reading it. So, I’d rather read a page and not talk about it. A page is a performance, well the way I write it is, the Jackson Pollock school of writing, so how can I possibly talk about it?

The interviewer always wastes time and goes around in circles. If I say it’s a bit like Shakespeare, the interviewer always then says, so you are comparing yourself to Shakespeare, then you go off on a tangent wasting time on that. If the interviewer actually listened he’d learn more, on behalf of the listeners or readers of viewers, instead of justifying his own existence. Two ears and only one tongue, and no I’m not talking about foreplay either. An interviewer is there to listen, it’s not a Political Interview where we all know the Politician is a Liar, a Damn Liar hiding in bed  with Statistics, and Statistics was all that mattered, 38/24/38 when his assistant became Political with him. But enough of that, NDAs and all.

The Interviewer goes around in circles, as if his foot was nailed to the floor, or he is painting his nails and ignoring you as you answer, or texting his mum, asking are his shorts done. Then there is the backward announcing to studio and the advert for next week too. Not forgetting the Nods to camera which will be inserted later to pretend he was actually listening to you, as vacuous as the kind pleasantries at the beginning and the end to prove to the People’s Choice Viewers that he is everybody’s best friend. But  judging by the laser looks from the crew, they hate him just as much as you.

So why waste time being interviewed. I’ll read aloud a page or two and let the audience judge for themselves. Never let an overweight and over paid idiot, get in the way between you and the words. Let folks, read touch taste every sentence, it should be like a French Kiss between me and my readers. I just hope when I open my eyes, I enjoy who I’ve exchanged spit with.