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David Milner was born in Mill Hill, North London, in 1946, at a very early age. He hated the label 'bulge baby' and this may account for his later eating disorder.  His parents were variously male, female, Gentile and  Jewish. They showed extraordinary foresight in naming him after a television channel which would specialise in second hand programmes, some 60 years later. Nevertheless there were another 5 Davids in his infant class alone;  perhaps this explains a degree of attention-seeking that would be irritating in a child and is downright embarrassing in an adult:  as evidence, this website and the book it flatters.


He slowly overcame a range of handicaps in childhood:  low intelligence, diminutive stature, and facial features which made Timothy Spall look like Johnny Depp. At secondary school one of his teachers told him that he had set himself very low standards, which he consistently failed to achieve, and that he was "too thick to go to university"; another said he was a "lazy superficial boy". So his academic career did not start that well. He did get a couple of degrees and wrote a couple of books and rose to the top of his profession by dint of sheer hard work and strategic seduction, eventually becoming Professor of Social Psychology at the University of Westminster (nee Polytechnic of Central London). Over a 30 year period more than ten thousand students sat or slept through his teaching sessions. They flocked to his lectures having learned that the course objectives were simply to have them reading to themselves without their lips moving. He published books and articles prolifically, few of which were intellectually superior to those of Katie Price.


He never quite got the hang of marriage: it proved to be one of his less successful hobbies, though he survived two with only shrapnel wounds and a minus quantity self-esteem score. He wishes he had been the one who said that “Marriage is like a long boring meal, only with the dessert served first” before Julian Barnes did. Nevertheless, he sired scores of beautiful children, and they all live together in a shoe near Neasden. In retirement he decided to fulfill his hereditary entrepreneurial destiny by starting a business, exporting oranges to Israel; inexplicably it failed.


Sadly, two of his ambitions remain unfulfilled: to be appointed resident 'caahnsluh' in Albert Square, Walford, with its perpetual stream of clients needing therapy; and secondly, to see Tottenham lift the Premier League trophy, although his appalling health record makes it rather unlikely that he will do so, as it is fully 54 years since this feat was last achieved.


  FESS:  the author