Talk properly, Peston!

A small consolation to the Greeks in their troubles must surely be that, unlike the British, they don't have to listen to the BBC's Economics Editor Robert Peston talking about them all the time.

Just hearing the man on the radio makes me seasick. The yawning pauses; the vocal gurnings; the yelp as another vowel is stretched drumskin tight on the rack of his ambition; the sudden barked expostulation that wakes the cat.

The Ralph-and-Hughie of it all.

Or like a nun on a funfair death ride. That awful realisation, as the momentum of a Pestonian sentence slows to the pace of a haemorrhoidal snail, that it will soon plunge to its - and possibly my - death in a bucket of breathless blether!

Why, the man defies the very gravity of the situations he describes!

Peston really does seem to think that he is another Peter Snow. But Evan Davis already occupies that berth. The others have the advantage that they are genuinely and lovably a bit bonkers. But Peston hasn't even so much as a speech impediment. He is a man who is visibly and above all audibly trying to be eccentric, and in both senses trying too hard.

It's a front. 

If anyone is to spend night and day standing outside their parliament while the fount of western civilisation dries up for good and all, I think that the Greek people need - if perhaps they don't fully deserve - a little better right now, don't you?

And don't look at me like that.
JUST TALK PROPERLY, MAN.