It continues and continues and continues… I am, of course, talking about the endless stream of sub-par, quasi-retarded ‘reality’ television shows. The worst offender is, by a large margin, Big Brother, whose selection policy for contestants seems to be asking them a handful of rather simple questions:
- Do you know your own name?
- Can you tie your own shoelaces?
- Are you insane?
If they answer ‘yes’ to all three questions they get in. Lord Reith must be doing pirouettes in his fucking grave.
I don’t blame Channel 4. Not in the slightest. I blame the people who keep watching the show, hoping to catch the three minutes of actual entertainment broadcast in any 24 hour period, who gossip about the mundanities of the talentless, underachieving morons who parade their inadequacies to the nation in a series of humiliating and demeaning ‘challenges’. If there was a God, then the house would burn to the ground with all the contestants still inside.
Why do I care?
Well, apart from the fact that these kinds of shows are taking valuable television air-time away from shows which have writers, whose production needs actors, and whose shelf-life is a little longer than a bottle of milk, then there is absolutely nothing wrong with reality television. If the UK can’t create some new series, which have intricately crafted plots, subtle acting and intelligent messages, then the reputation for class and elegance (which we have been fooling the world with) is gonna be screwed.
There’s a thin line between populist broadcasting and whoring, and Channel 4 is pulling up her fishnets and scribbling “£20” on the side of her white stillettos.