Why I hate Jeremy Clarkson.

You see, the problem is that, to the man on the street Jeremy Clarkson is motoring journalism. When people find out that, more than anything in the world, I enjoy driving cars and then writing about them, they almost universally say;

“So you want to be the next Jeremy Clarkson, then?”

It’s difficult to avoid responding with violence. I don’t know what to say and I become temporarily mute with dozens of negative responses vying for contention, and in the end I usually reply with what feels like a really clever answer;

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Why I love Jeremy Clarkson.

Generations of motoring journalists have used metaphors to enliven their output. A bit of imagery can prevent a detailed account of, for example, the effect of the latest Haldex differential, from reading like a science paper. They can also inject a little fun to proceedings; it's easier to read with a smile on your face than a frown.

But it was Jeremy Clarkson, on BBC Top Gear in the early '90s who introduced the suggestive metaphor to collective consciousness, and it was this and the notoriety it lent him to which he owes his career. Particularly, the famous;

“...tighter than Vanessa Mae's G-String”.

This was genius. Calculated to sound offensive whilst not actually being so (Vanessa Mae is a concert violinist) it at once opened motoring journalism up to a whole new audience. 

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