THE Curmudgeoness went off in high dudgeon the other day to the post office where, much to Mean Mike's displeasure, she cancelled the Delia Smith fan magazine.

"One day, perhaps, she'll take that plum out of her mouth and cook it," she told a confused Mean Mike, who takes any cancellation of any magazine as a personal affront, and particularly one like the Radio Times, which has been a must at Curmudgeon Corner since crystal set radios first sprouted their cat's whiskers.

The Radio Times, you see, had run cover stories about the said Ms Smith three times in the previous six weeks or so. And, to be blunt, Mrs C doesn't like the way she looks, talks or cooks.

"Bring back the Two Fat Ladies," she cried as she stormed out of the post office. At the time, she was unaware that the aforesaid large ladies had been on a triumphant tour Down Under, where the Aussies fell on their ample necks in delight.

Now I, personally, would do more than cancel the Radio Times, which is so full of ads and fatuous features that the only thing you can't find in it are the TV and radio programmes.

When you have removed the staples from those inserted ads, the whole magazine falls to bits in a couple of days so that, even if you knew where to look for the programmes, you still can't find them because they've fallen out and have been used to light the Aga.

No, if I had my way, I would cancel the Delia Smith Broadcasting Corporation, as the BBC has now been renamed.

For the Aussies won't be falling on BBC necks when our cricketers go to Oz this winter. Cos, of course, the BBC has lost the rights to broadcast test matches from next year, even here in England.

And as far as I am concerned, a so-called national broadcasting channel that can't afford to show our national summer game because it has spent all our licence money on so-called "celebrity" chefs does not deserve to be called the BBC. So, I suppose, the DSBC is quite appropriate.

Last year, when BBC telly was celebrating some sort of anniversary (I can't remember which, cos I didn't watch) it is alleged that a viewer's poll to decide on the funniest comedies of all time was "fixed".

The bosses wanted to give the prize to Men Behaving Badly, which thinks that shots of aging lager louts spewing up is funny.

What happened to shows of true genius, like 'Ancock's Half Hour, Steptoe and Son or the long gone and still sadly missed That Was The Week That Was.

It was shows like this that gave BBC Television a reputation unrivalled throughout the world. But they were deliberately dropped to please the "yoof market".

Trouble is, I can't stop paying my £90 TV licence, even if I never watch BBC1. I must, by law, give the BBC money to waste, or be transported to the colonies. But hold on a minute. I understand they show test matches on TV Down Under. Hmm. Anyone know where Mrs C and I can catch a convict ship?

(The Curmudgeon is a satirical column based on a fictitious character in a mythical village.)

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.