Television bugs me. I'll sit down in front of it when there's something worth watching, but if the license fee is about £9 a month, then I've been spending about a quid for each program I watch in it's entirety, and that was only when the Doctor Who, Grand Designs and Planet Earth series were on. Whenever I catch a glimpse of a TV show nowadays, it invariably follows one of three formats:
Joe Public buys a house, paints the walls Taupe, then sells it on to some idiot for a vast profit.
This is Channel 4. Here are some freaks for you to look at.
Celebrities compete against each other in a kitchen/ island/jungle environment for increased celebdom.
This last type of show annoys more than any other. I have absolutely no idea who these people are, and I couldn't care less. With the celebrities-on-an-island show (Celebrity Love Island, I'm told), I found myself watching a bunch of beautiful dull people struggling to answer questions such as, "Where is the English Channel?" Then I switched the TV off. It's depressing to think that anyone in this country could have reached adulthood without exposure to any sort of formal education. But this glorification of mediocrity is equally dismaying. TV shows like Love Island seem to be saying, don't bother even attempting to excel at anything. Why strive to accomplish your ambitions in life? Celebrities used to be famous actors, musicians, athletes, etc. Most of these new ones are just people who have shagged somebody famous. Fame has become a sexually transmitted disease.
As always in these programs, it's up to the public to choose who gets evicted. Text your choice of housemate to the number below. (Texts cost £1, none of which will be donated to charity).
Let's have a real reality TV show. We'll film it in Africa. The contestants are black children. They live in a mud hut and they haven't eaten for a month. Each week, another housemate will leave the show. Texts cost £1, but we'll give it to charity. You decide who stays and who goes.
Every time I see another corporation milking the herd, I have this image in my head of a business meeting in a boardroom. At one end of the table, clustered around a flip-board, are the thirty-somethings. They wear grey suits. At the other end of the table are the directors, in black suits. The Grey Suits use words like "synergy" and "facilitate." The Black Suits understand these words, and nod grimly. The pages on the flip-board turn over and over again. Finally, the Black Suits confer, and Celebrity Do We Really Fucking Care Anymore is born.
The same boardroom is used by the people who tell us that shelling out £300 for car insurance will make us happy. and by those kind souls who make a 29% APR loan sound appealing by brushing aside the silly figures which aren't as important as speaking to somebody who is really nice on the phone.
Sorry. Rant Over.