AND so I am to appear on I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here. As an aesthete I am naturally repelled by the unstoppable march of reality television programmes and the oxygen they lend to the dismal, slack-jawed ‘personalities’ who scramble to appear on them. But, like Christopher Marlowe, I am a hostage to my own dark passions and – ghastly fate – one finds oneself in need of funds to support one’s voracious appetite for substances. And thus I must place myself in a jungle with dullards.

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