Go compare?

The rumblings of discontent that were soft at first have grown louder and louder until they now reach a crescendo as loud and screechy as the advertisement in question – yes, that one, that dire travesty of an opera singer telling us to go compare. Newspaper columnists, footballers’ wives, my relatives, all, are rising in protest against Go Compare man. Yet, no-one seems to be able to do anything about him. Like the common cold, he just will not go away. My take?
I hate that man. I can’t stand him. I can’t stand his fright wig nor those twirly-twirly fake mustachios. I can’t stand the way they’ve stuffed his paunchy body into that evening suit. I can’t stand those cloying warblings that parody the entire notion of what real opera singing is – come back, Nessun Dorma. All is forgiven.
Just recently, I noticed that they have watered down the original advertisement into a monochrome, flickering, ye olde filme pastiche of its former self. But it is too little, too late. Go Compare man still takes centre stage, and an entire generation has been alienated from the opera. Significantly, in spite of his persistent bleatings, I still didn’t know what he was telling up to go compare, or how, or why. I took courage and paid a visit to the Go Compare website. To my horror I discovered that Go Compare man has an identity. He is named Gio Compario, writes a regular blog and, surprise, surprise, his blogging is just as appealing as his singing. Just recently, new words to his song have floated into my head. Join me now in singing I despair, I despair…