04.20.08
If I was king (or even TV Controller)
TV has lots of good stuff on it, but it has huge amounts of trash too. Virtually everything comes down to the lowest common denominator, which given some of the truely horrific thing syou here people coming out with, is pretty low.
Now, if I made TV, things would be very different, oh yes…
Firstly these giant adverts for Andrew Lloyd Webbers latest production, also known as I’d Do Anything and it’s ilk. A bunch of fairy pretty, fairy talented ladies singing and being set “challenges”, the public then vote or something, and some judges make some comments. Eventually one of them is chosen, and ALW and co go on to have a west end hit with the audience being one third old ladies, old third over excited children and one third horny father stating at the pretty that got voted in (and taking along their children). One giant adverts.
Now if I ran this thing, it would be different. Firstly, they’re have to do everything that actors have to put up with. They’re have to live in shit cheap accommodation, and eat at antisocial hours. They’re have to do several performances with raging hangovers, and paint the set themselves.
And the judges, they’re be history, or rather they would be very different. Gone would be that bloke form Torchwood, Denise van Whatsit and the bloke who play Dame Edna. In their place would be the top selection of Jeromy Clarkson (the voice of reason for such matters), Clare Balding from the racing, John McCririck and in place of lloyd webber i’d have Jack Dee. That would just about sort it. Oh - and the telephone voting would be gone, you’d only be allowed to vote if you were a registered voter for the General Elections (and you’d have to go to go to a polling station just like the GE too). Much better.
Next up - Shipwrecked. 40 teenagers on an island, full of booze and makeup and being set “tasks” and having to “survive on their own” etc etc. More fake that Jordons tits or the super cheap choclate you get in Christmas decorations.
My Shipwrecked, that would be another matter. I’d load up the place with the 40 brats, all excited that they get to become stars on TV etc etc, and I’d ditch it at sea half a mile off the island. When they swam ashore they’d find some tarpaulins, boxes of matches, machettes, rope and maybe their first night’s meal. Then we’d watch them all from a distance through long lenses as they waited for rescue and had to survive. Lord of the Flies all over again. Chloe, Harry and Antwon wouldn’t have a clue what had hit them, it would be ace.
Big Brother - so many improvements could be made. Every little turd who goes on it now wants to launch their career, become a super star, be famous etc etc etc, but when questioned they will say it’s all about expressing themselves, an interesting experiment in learning to live with others etc etc etc. blah blah blah.
So, my big brother, they’d all troup into the house, and get locked in. Every week one would be removed at random, and when they walked out of the door expecting baying crowds and Devina meeting them there would be… fuck all! No cameras would have been watching them, no crowds following them on telly, nothing. As the door closed behind them there’s be a taxi to the nearest tube stop and a cheque for the minimum wage for 8 hours every day they were in there. They’d had an interesting experiment, learned a lot about themsleves, and we’d had plenty of time to watch something worth while.
I could go on, but I guess you get the idea. Now vote for me.
