Question time...

Finally got round to watching the Question Time that was recorded in Hull last week, on the BBC's iPlayer (I can no longer remember how I lived without this fine technological advancement). It wasn't too lively a show (the calm before this week's Nick Griffin appearance I imagine) and the only aspect that really got me spitting was every time the dreadully slimy Nigel Farage of UKIP opened his mouth. What puzzled me was that, given that the venue was a 15 minute walk from our house, I didn't recognise a single person in the audience. You'd think one or two familiar faces would have squeezed in there. Possibly the legendary Les from the Lamp bringing up the thorny issue of asylum seekers. But no. Not one person, other than A Johnson on the panel, that I knew. Instead, the producers had managed to fill the Community Church with articulate people who, on the whole, were even sans the oft-mocked Hull accent. Had these people been shipped in from the East Riding's nicer villages? Or was the whole thing an actor-laden Apollo moon landingesque sham filmed in North Acton? I jest, of course. I was actually impressed with the way Hull's folk presented themselves - they done us proud - and the lack of Elizabeth Duke gold trinkets on display.