Right, let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to be in business. We’ll start with core skills. A bit of maths first: 3/8 of 152, add 7, divide by 16. Then add . . . what d’you mean, slow down, you’re still working out the 3/8 bit . . . the answer’s four, you idiot, FOUR, get a move on, you’re never going to get an MBA if you can’t do a bit of mental arithmetic.

Maybe you’ll be better with literacy. Write me the opening line of a play. What do you mean, you don’t know how? It’s just a bit of writing isn’t it? OK then, write the first line of a song. No? Well, what about a gag in the style of Friends? Still no? Just give me the idea for the play then, you don’t have to write it, just think of the idea, how difficult can that be?

What do you mean, you’re stuck? Anyone can do this sort of thing. I know that the talent whine on about how badly they’re treated, but hey, that’s what these creative types do, isn’t it, whine on? I mean, anyone can whine on. Takes a Master of the Universe, or at any rate a great business brain, to make the figures add up. That’s far more important than being creative, isn’t it?

Ask any big businessman, he’ll tell you straight: money, money, money. These creatives are always droning on about money. Just listen this week to Harold Pinter and Tom Stoppard and Margaret Atwood bleating on about the Bush Theatre. For crying out loud, the fuss they’re making just because the Arts Council is talking about withdrawing £180,000 of its funding, you’d think it was the end of the world. What do you mean, it is the end of the world if you’re into theatre?

Blah, blah, blah, on they drone, can’t do what we do without money. Well, I say, how about making some money, and THEN you can get on with your fancy-schmancy creativity!

I mean the Bush Theatre, what is it? Some small-end, small-time place in the back of beyond that has only 81 seats. Hah! Obviously it won’t make money if it has only 81 seats. Of course the Arts Council should reduce its funding. Sure, so Stephen Poliakoff started off there, big deal, you want to write a play, I say go write one, can’t be that hard, if it’s good enough someone’ll stage it, so long as they think it’s going to make some money . . . what do you mean, back to the first question, could I write the opening line of a play? Of course I can’t. Why? I’m too busy, that’s why. Keeping this business on the road, that’s how. Employing people. Paying taxes. That kind of thing.

It’s just one long moan with you people, isn’t it? There’s Paul McCartney telling EMI it was lazy, that he and those other singers had become part of the furniture, some rubbish about him being a couch and Coldplay an armchair, just because EMI said it would take six months for it to work out how to market a new song.

Classic example of a creative type not understanding how business works. Marketing’s not something you can do in a day, you know. You need a lot of meetings and a lot of strategic thinking. We’re talking big money here, we’re not just going to decide how to sell a new song in a couple of days.

Who does Paul McCartney think he is? Well, yeah, OK, one of the biggest-selling artists of all time, yeah OK, well he may be a multimillionaire, but he’s still droning on, isn’t he . . ?

No, of course him leaving EMI hasn’t given it any trouble. It’s bigger than he is, you know. Yes, I did hear Radiohead had gone too. And Robbie Williams refusing to deliver his latest album. And yes, I did hear EMI is sacking 2,000 people. Just a bit of streamlining.

Don’t get me wrong, content is king. Definitely. It’s just that the talent are not as important as we are. Or as clever. And we certainly shouldn’t be paying them that much. I mean, I’m not sure we even need them any more. It’s all on the internet now, after all. Niche, that’s the way forward. And bloggers. They do it for free, you don’t have to pay them. No, of course I wouldn’t pay to read them, what are you talking about, most of them are rubbish.

What do you mean, Neil MacGregor might be going to the Met because they’ve got more money and he has to pennypinch here? Who is he anyway? Oh, the bloke who put the Chinese Terracotta Army into the British Museum. Yeah, yeah, of course I saw it, went there for a corporate drinks party. Great venue. So what if he’s going to New York? We should all go to New York, they really know about making money there.

Less money these days in Los Angeles? What are you going on about? Oh, the Golden Globes. Cancelled because of the writers’ strike. Yeah, I read that. So what? Who needs an awards ceremony anyway? Really? £40 million in lost revenue? Why didn’t you say so before? Get someone else to write the gags then – news presenters, they’re good people. . . oh, they tried that and it didn’t work? Well tell them to try harder next time, or they’re fired . . . What do you mean, that’s not their job? It’s just a bit of writing, isn’t it? Anyone can do that.

What do you mean, why don’t I give it a go myself then? I told you before. I’M TOO BUSY. Understand? I’m trying to keep this business going, I can’t waste time talking to you any more. You got a problem, sort it out. That’s what we do in the business world. Or send someone on a course. Have you tried that? We find that works quite well.

Hey! I’ve got it. Have a meeting! That’s what you haven’t done. Do I have to spell it out for you? But take my tip. When you have the meeting, DON’T SIT DOWN. Keep everyone standing up. Much more creative that way.

A new torment from Microsoft’s sadists

I seem to recall that Microsoft prides itself on employing not only the cleverest but also the most creative brains. Amusing then that it should have come up with an invention that will have anyone in a creative job either fired or sent to the psychiatrist’s couch.

Microsoft is developing software capable of remotely monitoring a worker’s productivity, physical wellbeing and competence. The plan is for a system that links workers to their computers via sensors that measure their heart rate, body temperature, movement, facial expression and blood pressure. Anyone who works creatively regularly faces the PC with pounding heart, sweaty armpits, high blood pressure and a facial expression like that in the painting The Scream. Colleagues accept this as normal. For those who delight in checking, counting and catching people out, the ability to take “monitoring people at work to a new level” is huge – and worryingly sadistic.

Unfinished business

The inquest into the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, has thrown up some fascinating detail. We have been reminded, by photographs of Diana in her swimsuit, that the Princess, who was famously bulimic, was by today’s standards twice the size of most models.

We have learnt that at the time of her affair with Dodi she was still in love with her former lover, Dr Hasnat Khan, and that the reason she was so cooperative with press photographers while on holiday with Dodi was because she hoped that pictures of them together might spur Dr Khan into resuming their relationship. And finally, we have discovered that Paul Burrell, her social-climbing butler, has become a millionaire not once but seven times over thanks to his staggeringly successful US venture, cashing in on American snobbery with his furniture, rug and “Royal Butler” china and wine collection. Ah, the joy of business.

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