Those of us who were wondering exactly what culture Brighton and Hove possessed that could possibly merit the title of European Capital of Culture in 2008 now know. We possess Norman Cook.

According to an unnamed Brighton and Hove City Council spokesman (The Argus, February 2), Norman is the ideal figurehead "for the kind of non-snobby, inclusive version of culture we are talking about".

Opera, fine art, architecture, classical music, literature - forget them. What we have is going to wow all Europe. We have Norman's record-decks and his 35,000 al fresco ravers. We have decibels.

Europe? Who's thinking in such small terms? Not Norman, according to Jakki Phillips's interview (The Argus Weekend, February 2).

Norman claims his latest album will "put Brighton on the world map". The world did not know Brighton existed, apparently, until Norman came along, flicked his switches, jabbed his fingers at the crowd and brought us cartographic glory.

Now you could argue Norman Cook isn't worth attack. He is an over-hyped media phenomenon with a sadly overblown ego.

He is not even a musician, so far as I can make out, but a spinner of other people's discs. He is welcome to his grotesque residence in Millionaire's Row, complete with Jaguar chair and Manhattan wallpaper.

But he is now the frontman, it seems, for our local leaders' delusions of grandeur and hunger for power.

Their overweening ambition has already brought about the forced marriage of Hove and Brighton, to the eternal detriment of Hove.

Their ambition has brought us undeserved city status, with hyped property values and other disadvantages to ordinary residents. Now they desire this next ludicrous accolade.

But I can't see it happening. I'm afraid no number of Cooks and Balls, seafront raves and weekly fireworks, pounding night clubs and cafe-bars, piers, casinos and amusement arcades is going to make this place into anybody's sensible City of Culture.

-Bryan Childers, Marine Parade, Brighton