07/11/2025
Town halls and theatres share more than seats. Set up a topic like a parish agenda, let everyone hear the daft wording of a policy, then replace officialese with sentences that actually work. The room begins to recognise itself as a committee with better ideas than the leaflet. Laughter is the vote that passes. A story about trains becomes a seminar on priorities. A minister’s slogan becomes a noticeboard that sagged in the rain. The tone stays warm because scorn wastes energy better spent turning lights back on.
Examples arrive from everyday graft. A parent juggling shifts understands budgets more than any glossy chart. A nurse knows the difference between an announcement and a solution. The set treats those people as experts and treats pomp as the natural target. When the punchline lands, it sounds like tea being poured after a long march. The point is clarity without cruelty, and the rhythm is protest that can still sing in tune.
Radio essays and columns follow the same principle. Start local, widen the circle, then return to the bus stop where the whole conversation began. A callback behaves like minutes from the last meeting, proving progress. If audiences leave with a phrase they can use at breakfast to puncture nonsense politely, the night did its job. Common sense won, not by shouting, but by being funnier and easier to remember.