Flung into Room 101: Where terrible things happen
George Orwell’s novel 1984 introduced us all to Room 101, the torture chamber in the basement of the Ministry of Love where prisoners were subjected to their very worst nightmares. Somehow the stuff of nightmares was subsequently transformed into a BBC TV comedy series in which dinky celebrities are invited to discuss their pet hates with the world at large and persuade the host to consign those hates to oblivion in Room 101.
Now, I don’t know about anyone else, but my list of pet hates isn’t just long, it seems to grow at a pretty healthy rate every day. The level of irritation and exasperation with modern life knows no bounds and I, for one, would be more than happy to consign some everyday detritus into the dark and dank recesses of Room 101: Selfies would be seriously flung, followed by anyone holding a selfie stick. They, in turn, would be followed by cats, rodents and, quite possibly, the entire millennial generation. American football would certainly go