OK, so there we were at dinner, listening to "Front Row", an arts & culture show on BBC Radio 4. They'd invited a Guardian critic to comment on the new TV film of Terry Pratchett's Hogfather (which I can't wait to see, btw). In fact, believe it or not, the critic liked Hogfather, the film version as well as the book. However, because she is an Important Cultural Critic, she had to preface her recommendation with the words "Well, of course in general I despise fantasy..."

Which isn't even the subject of this entry. No, I'm used to that when people discuss fantasy novels/movies on the radio, or in newspapers. No, what sent me into absolute red-hot rage came two minutes later, as the hostess and critic discussed how good Terry Pratchett's book was (as opposed to normal fantasy books, which are of course despicable). The hostess said, "It's full of allusions, isn't it? Allusions to Dickens--even an allusion to Harry Potter, with the wizards' universities..." And the critic agreed.

And that was the point at which I let out a shriek of anguished rage.

The worst part is, in situations like this I feel helpless in the case of official ignorance (no, worse yet, willful ignorance - they're not going to bother to even check the dates on the inside covers of the fantasy books they mention). Because, y'know, if I emailed in to the program, the response (I am convinced) would be the response that always comes out in situations like this: Ah, how amusing, the geeks [or "anoraks", as they're called in England] are coming out in force again over the tiniest little inaccuracy...(chortle chortle)

So here I sit. Geek-like. And full of rage.