Look, I know we all enjoy a bit of television. Actually there are millions of lazy uneducated fatsoes out there who live for nothing else. But having said that, we all need to relax and chill and have those moments that take us away from the daily grind, whatever that maybe. The only problem is that the quality of so much television nowadays has fallen lower than a pair of whore’s knickers

Now, television has spawned a lot of ugly things, but nothing comes close to the epidemic of mock reality TV shows that is now infecting the nation.  Every evening we’re all offered a front seat from where we can actually watch the progress of society’s moral decay from the comfort of our own armchairs. I don’t know about you, but surely the time has arrived when we simply have to call a halt to the continuing madness that is scripted television reality programmes. Think about that for a moment: a ‘scripted reality series’ surely an oxymoron of the highest order?

There are so many things about these programmes that makes me wish that I lived next door to a chemical weapons factory.  Not least the fact that there are actually human beings out there who think that this plethora of total crap is real and many more who believe that it’s all happening in real time. The fact that there are dozens of production crew all over the place and that every word is rehearsed and scripted has never occurred to these people, or cabbages as I like to call them.

TOWIE or, as I would prefer, the Only Way Is Painful Electrocution, was once the worst offender. But this was soon mimicked by ‘Tossers from Chelsea’ followed by ‘Geordie Retards’, the only reality series that should’ve come with subtitles? But now we are all simply groaning under the sheer weight of so-called reality programmes of the lowest scatological order. ‘The Real Wives of….Wherever, who all swan around in donated designer wear having endless luncheons and dinner parties combined with endless spats with all of the other surgically enhanced wives whose faces are so full of rat poison that they can’t squint to crack out a fart. ‘Come Dine With Me?  Yeah that’s real isn’t it? Did you know that the food is actually prepared off site and delivered to each house? Then there’s ‘Dinner Date’ where some unfortunate signs up for three free dinners in some council house usually with a member of the opposite sex who has no prospects. All scripted.  And so is ‘First Dates’ and ‘Celebrity First Dates.’ And you can add to that all those programmes about people on benefits. ‘Can’t Pay We’ll Take It Away’, ‘The Bailiffs Are Coming.’  Of course I could go on. OK then I will. ‘Don’t Tell The Bride’, Ex-On The Beach’ ‘Four In A Bed,’ anything with Mr Wrinkly, Gordon Ramsey in it, The Job Interview, The Apprentice, The fecking Kardashians and on and on and on it unmercifully goes.

Then there’s the irritating, self-obsessed, monosyllabic brain donors who ‘star’ in these wastes of money where acting a complete arsehole is a well-trodden path to celebrity fame.  It all makes me wonder whether there’s a secret laboratory somewhere that specialises in producing total imbeciles. Honestly, you can’t open a newspaper these days without reading about how one of these cerebrally challenged celebrities managed, unaided, to tie their own shoe-laces. And that’s before we get on to their endless weight  and relationship ‘issues’ that accompanies their inability to string two  sentences together. This is followed by the ubiquitous tacky wedding to another tattooed, fake tanned half-wit all covered in full colour by that homage to Z-list wannabes, Hello. And let me say this. There’s been more tears shed on reality TV than by all the war widows in the entire history of the world!!

But to top it all we now have the ultimate in pointless television that is Googlebox. A programme where we are invited to watch various assortments of labotomised, over-opinionated viewers sitting in their cheaply decorated living rooms while watching various dirge on their televisions. Irony doesn’t even begin to describe it?

Thankfully I still have my box-sets of my favourite dramas and comedies which hark back to a time when there was a tangible difference between fame and accomplishment. I ‘ve packed them all away into a time capsule so that in many years from now when it’s opened it will be demonstrated that there once was a time when humans had faculties and a modicum of  creative talent.

In the meantime I am sponsoring a new reality TV series entitled: ‘The Only Way Is Assassination’. Each week various psychopathic prisoners, who are serving long prison sentences for gun crime, will be given an AK-47 and the addresses of various reality stars on TV. Viewers will interact with the programme by using their remote controls to vote on the order of which z-list celebrity is to be found first. Each gunman will then compete against each other to be the first one to reach the celebrity arsehole and shoot them in the face. The winner will receive a large slice of remission and a cushy job in the prion library. An entertaining reality-cull. It’s a sure fire ratings winner?

 Laters 

13th August 2016.