Why I hate selfies

What's the dictionary definition of a selfie? I'd wager it's a badly framed picture of an idiot taken by a moron.

It may be the craze sweeping the world. It may have been accepted as an acceptable word by the makers of Scrabble. And it may even keep the cast of Towie in work and off the streets. Unfortunately.

But as far as I'm concerned, the plague of selfies is just the latest trough in humanity's pursuit of the banal by the vain and the vacuous.

The taking of the selfie has become a newsworthy event in its own right, taking our woeful obsession with celebrity culture to new depths.

Any Z-lister can now take a picture of themselves wearing a cropped top or a posing pouch and be assured instant drooling worldwide coverage.

I'm starting to suspect that our tastes have become so dumbed down that Stephen Hawking could invent time-travel tomorrow and still no one would be interested unless he got Helen Flanagan to post a topless selfie of herself with the research.

Here are some examples of headlines gracing some of our less highbrow national newspapers and websites this week.

"Kim Kardashian reveals the truth about her super-racy selfie."

Really? Great. Now maybe she's done that the pointless s'leb, basically little more than a professional walking arse who's contributed nothing to humanity other than being able to wear clothes, can get a proper job.

"Adam Levine shares his first selfie as a married man with new wife Behati Prinsloo."

Good for him. Never heard of him. Or her.

"Lewis Hamilton and girlfriend Nicole Scherzinger pose for selfie on mountain bike excursion."

Well, anything's more exciting than Formula One. Or her music.

"Lauren Goodger can't stop posting bikini selfies as she relaxes in Dubai."

Possibly the only valid argument I've ever heard in favour of burkas.

And perhaps the most depressing selfie story of the week came from Mexico: "Man shoots himself while posing for a selfie."

No surprise there. It takes dexterity and more than the limited intelligence of a lobotomised wombat to successfully carry out two tasks at the same time.

What I'm saying is this: There's already enough untalented, fame-hungry wannabes around without us creating legions more merely because they're able to point a smart phone in the right direction with a trout pout.

Should we not aspire to more?

Is this really the message we want to pass on to our kids – that they don't need to be clever or funny or hardworking to be someone in life – all they need to do sell their last remaining shred of privacy and dignity by flogging a selfie of themselves half-naked on a beach?

I say no. I wish Kim Kardashian would too.

AT WHAT point should we admit defeat and grow old gracefully?

We all know that time waits for no man, that we should act our age, that there's no fool like an old fool and that dad dancing at the disco is a crime that should be punishable by a three-to-five stretch in Pentonville.

I only say this because, last weekend, Tory MP Graham Stewart was caught on camera "throwing some shapes" at the Humber Street Sesh.

On a video posted on the Guido Fawkes political website the silver fox 52-year-old can be seen, as clear as day, bopping along to a popular Hull dance combo.

Or, as Guido put it: "Gurning Graham spent Saturday night at the Humber Street Sesh with monged-out fellow revellers dancing to endoflevelbaddie."

There, apparently, the politician was "having it large".

I'm not sure the rest of the revellers were "monged out" as the website put it, but they certainly looked happy enough.

As someone rapidly approaching his dotage, I don't feel quite ready for the pipe and slippers just yet and I intend to continue acting like an idiot, dad dancing inappropriately, going to gigs, singing loudly out of tune and "throwing shapes" for many years to come.

For the record, Guido said he approved of the MP's activities – at least it proves he's human. Or as human as a politician can be. And so do I. After all, 50 is the new 30, isn't it?