David Beckham
So, he's retiring at last. To be honest, I got the impression that's he's not being playing football properly for quite a few years now, and has been wandering around playing the odd half game for mad money/publicity. Anyway, nice enough chap who certainly knows how to look after himself and his family. Nevertheless, I resent buying The Sun yesterday to find that 22 pages [yes, that's right!] were devoted to him!!! The whole rage was only 60 pages, including all the adverts and advice on how to submit a claim for a refund of PPI.
Nigel Farage
It seems he had a spot of bother in Edinburgh this week. Having listened to the news on the radio and interviews with him, and having considered the input from Alex Salmond as well, I have come to some conclusions. Nigel Farage remains someone who will shake things up a bit - something that is absolutely necessary, considering the self-serving tossers all around the political arena wold otherwise continue to pussyfoot around key issues. Farage seems to have a point or two when summing up the treatment he received by yobs. The spokesman for the 50 'protesters' showed just how targeted the input was, to gain publicity. Alex Salmond subsequently proved to all that he remains as much of a pompous arse as ever, with skewed views and sanctimony oozing from pores. He is thoroughly unlikable. Keep going, Nigel, and force all of them to come clean about what they think, what they propose to do, and listen to the people.
Dambusters - Bomb Delivery
It was always one of my favourite stories and favourite films from a young age, and the amazing feats of those pilots can't ever be forgotten. There was certainly enough commemoration this weeks of the 70th anniversary. I did notice, though, as is typical of me, the language used by Air Vice Marshall Atha, who was speaking about events all those years ago. He used the word 'deliver' six times in three minutes, and proved beyond any doubt that anyone speaking these days, whether a politician, leader, institutional figurehead or someone with an agenda, will overuse this word. After some peculiar words on how the RAF managed to "deliver a precise and exact attack", he went on to include, via one of the mentions of 'deliver', details of how the bombers were also "delivered". Yesterday morning, on Radio 2, the current Squadron Leader of 617 Squadron joined in, with: "We take the task on and deliver it." What nonsense. I suspect that tonight we'll hear how Sweden has "delivered" the Eurovision Song Contest.
Cunt In A Van
I was driving along on the M1 just south of Sheffield yesterday when my progress was impeded by a silver van. There was nothing in the left (slow) lane, I had come up behind the van in the middle lane, and I could immediate go around it because a faster car was looming in my right hand mirror. I slowed to the 60mph necessary to avoid hitting the rear of the silver Ford van, and got annoyed because it should have been in the vacant slow lane. After the faster car passed me on my right, I followed suit to pass the van and then pulled back into the middle lane. In my rear view mirror I could confirm what I thought I'd seen while passing, and saw worse. The driver of NJ04 XWA was on the phone, in a world of his own, oblivious to anyone behind him or around him. The 'worse' that I mentioned in the last sentence was that while one hand was to his ear, holding the phone, the other hand was to the other ear, no doubt blocking out the sound from his noisy cab! No cunt was steering! Scandalous.
This is rather more dangerous than my exceeding the speed limit on the morning, with no cars around at all, in a new car on a dry road, with excellent visibility. However, the cuntish and sneaky behaviour of the police was highlighted to me as I passed a small van parked sideways to the road, but set back out not in view, with a camera positioned behind the driver. Yes, this lazy policeman simply sat in his vehicle, hiding, and filming to see how much money could be raised on a national speed limit road miles from anywhere. So, another one in a van, eh? This country is fucked up, because priorities are skewed.
Fuel Fix
What a surprise! Actually, no surprise at all! The price of fuel has been kept higher than necessary, with Shell and BP ripping us off. How can this be news, considering they make millions of pounds per hour, and have done for decades (when they've not been causing environmental mayhem). Of course the price of fuel has been too high, otherwise the obscene profit levels would have come down a long time ago. The thick CIC have managed to ignore the cunting obvious for fucking ages! This is not 'news'. Surely we all know that corruption is everywhere. Price-fixing, expenses fiddling, tax avoidance by individuals and massive corporations managing to pay fuck-all while raking in millions/billions. Meanwhile, ordinary people suffer. There is no morality left, and trust is something that is a rare commodity.
Water
I see that £5.3billion was not enough to secure the sale of Thames Water. I am sure that an increased offer will mean a sale goes through, and that there will be further attempts to buy other companies controlling water in the UK - plus other essential things. I find it outrageous that the UK is wandering blindly into a cul-de-sac on a scale that will mean metaphoric 'eviction' in the future. The country is no longer in control. Gas, Electricity, Water, Communications, Railways, Postal Services - key elements that dictate for society whether it can exists and survive. Yet we have no control over any of it. The sell-off under the free market approach means we are fucking ourselves over. I am no fan of the Labour twats who have sold us short on PPI approaches meaning we will pay billions more than necessary for hospitals, prisons and schools, but it is equally stupid to allow everything significant to dwindle away. We will soon be living as tenants in the UK, hoping the landlords do not squeeze us to death.
Payday Loans
Wonga, QuickQuid, Cash Lady, Liquid Loans, Purple PayDay, Vivus, Payday UK, Peachy, WePayAnyDay, Kitty, Payday Ninja, Payday First, Mummy Payday . . . . . there are literally hundreds of companies that I could list. Cash Converters do them as well, there are pawn shops everywhere, and companies still desperate to take gold off us, whether items are broken or unhallmarked. [NOTE: Gordon Brown sold off the country's gold reserves at the bottom of the market, and at a lower rate than fucking Ramsden's would have given him for it! What a complete wanker!] Then there is Amigo loans that for some reason charges JUST 49.9%. That's right, I think we're supposed to view that sort of interest rate as reasonable, considering all the others range typically from 400% to over 4000%. Amigo though requires a guarantor so in effect, there's no need to sting you when someone else will cough up if the applicant can't. On that basis, then, there's no justification for 50% then. Anyone who fuels this industry is doing himself/herself no good at all, and is doing nothing for society at all. Worse, though, is the fucking government that has allowed this legalised loan-shark approach to prevail and grow to a stupidly high level. The prevalence of these leeches masquerading as helpful companies is a national scandal, and only now is the government half-heartedly suggesting a 'tightening up' of things. Hundreds of thousands of people will already be fucked up completely. The government is fucking useless. There is too much control in so many areas, with the 'nanny state' being a cunt, and yet it seems the UK is allowed to become a centre of gambling and borrowing. There is also a section of society that will merrily play bingo at one or more of 17,000 places/sites, and then borrow at ludicrous interest rates to survive, while claiming benefits that they feel entitled to while doing no work at all. The UK is sinking, and the CIC haven't a fucking clue.
Antiques Road Shit
This week I have unfortunately had to witness complete bollocks via the Antiques Road Trip offering on BBC2. This is the programme that makes no sense at all, and is flawed in a number of ways. The first is that it features a nob called Mark - one of the supposed dealers who wanders around buying stuff and selling it at auction. As ever, the BBC expects viewers to get excited about some shit being bought for a tenner and sold for fifteen quid at the next town. Yes, there are occasional examples of something going for a lot more than it was bought for, but there are equal numbers of examples of poor deals, and loss-making transactions.
Last week, Mark haggled and got a jug made in the 1820s for £8 instead of the £20 the shopkeeper wanted for it. The typical creepiness led to him giving in and allowing the sale for £8, and then it sold for £18 at auction. Why the fuck didn't the shopkeeper tell Mark to fuck off because in effect, the profit was transferred from the antique shop owner to Mark. I reckon he sold it that cheap because the cameras were on him. So, the deal of the fucking decade (not) was a £10 profit for Mark, before costs. So, £7 then. What high finance! Let's now examine the fact that the dealers have for the week travelled around Wales, clocking up hundreds of miles in knackered old cars, with fuel at over £6 per gallon. Ignoring the time and effort, and the cost of overnight stays, these twats have made nothing - in fact they've lost a fortune. This is simply SHIT. 'Bargain Hunt' is worse because they ignore the auction costs!
[CIC = Cunts In Charge]
...
Saturday, 18 May 2013
Friday, 17 May 2013
17.5.13 International Viewers - Update
Last December, I posted a list of countries from where people were, and still are, viewing this Blog site, and was pleased with the spread. Despite the diminishing list of potential additions, more countries have joined in, and I do stick get a buzz when I see a new one pop up.
Thanks to viewers from various countries around the world. The countries which make up the top ten for viewing are:
1 United Kingdom
2 United States
3 Russia
4 Germany
5 France
6 Australia
7 Netherlands
8 Singapore
9 Spain
10 Ukraine
New Countries Since December
Tanzania
Belize
Sri Lanka
Malta
Jersey
Venezuela
Albania
Ecuador
Ethiopia
Kazakhstan
Gibralter
Oman
Zimbabwe
Angola
Puerto Rico
Other interest has previously come from (in no particular order):
India
Canada
Poland
Italy
Denmark
Sweden
Switzerland
Thailand
Croatia
Bulgaria
Japan
Mexico
Iraq
Colombia
China
South Africa
Philippines
Latvia
Ireland
Serbia
Greece
Egypt
Taiwan
Bosnia and Herzegovina
South Korea
Brazil
Hong Kong
Trinidad & Tobago
Malaysia
Venezuela
Indonesia
Romania
Vietnam
Lebanon
Isle of Man
Lithuania
Georgia
Moldova
Nigeria
Slovakia
Gabon
Saudi Arabia
United Arab Emirates
Bangladesh
Cyprus
Turkey
Hungary
Belgium
Chile
Kenya
Argentina
Indonesia
Slovenia
Morocco
Estonia
Finland
Uruguay
Greece
Pakistan
Peru
Guernsey
Jordan
Azerbaijan
Macau
Portugal
Czech Republic
Myanmar
Mongolia
Norway
Jamaica
Ethiopia
Belarus
Nepal
Cambodia
Israel
Malawi
Nicaragua
...
Wednesday, 15 May 2013
15.5.13 Chelsea Match - Shock Comment
Yes, it's true that there was this evening a shock event exactly fifteen minutes into the match. In a first half that was rather poor, it marked the only noteworthy contribution in ITV's coverage of the Europa League Final. Sadly the input was not actually on the pitch, but from the commentary box, courtesy of Andy Townsend. He described Benfica as being:
"A good yard sharper than Chelsea."
Amazingly Andy temporarily re-calibrated his mind and perception of football, and decided on avoiding the usual "half a yard" unit of measurement. Quite simply an amazing occurrence that merits comparison with the frequency of a lunar eclipse.
It didn't last, of course, and the half-yard system was back in play within ten minutes, so normal (commentary) service was resumed. Sadly, so was the input from David Luiz who managed a signature shoulder-into-an-opponent just a couple of minutes later. As for Ramirez, why was he on the pitch; poor all round.
The second half got livelier, and the Torres goal put the cat among the pigeons. The main beneficiaries of Benfica's benevolence were the Chelsea players, who were awarded a fair few free kicks.
Then came the handball by Azpilicueta, allowing Benfica to score from the penalty spot. Ramirez continued to be shit, and David Luiz continued to be erratic. Then Ramirez was shit again. I sat and willed there to be some more cards flashed by the referee, as boredom started to set in. Sadly the ref was a cunt for not booking the player who clattered into Ramirez. Instead, he was determined to smile like a twat at everything and anything.
As a complete aside, what the fuck is the Benfica manager's hair all about. That 'style' went out in 1975, about the same time that Cossack was popular for keeping it in place. Also, who dressed the Benfica keeper in a 'nude' strip (what a pun!) or perhaps 'biscuit' seeing as a Rich Tea could be invisible against his shirt.
After Ramirez served up some more shit, Benfica got a a bit more possession. Then Ramirez ran at the goal to no effect, while Luiz sulked. The referee lost a bit more control of the game and I feared that we'd get another half and hour of him, and this tit-for-tat game of football. I was so bored that i even looked at the top of the screen and drew a weird conclusion:
BEN 1 - 1 CHL
I thought: "Benzene One, Chlorine One"
Then Lampard hit the bar, and I rued the miss, thinking that three minutes of injury time would not be enough to save us from extra time. Then it happened - with 60 seconds to go, Ivanovic headed in a corner. Unbelievable! Benfica should have drawn level seconds later, and just seconds before the final whistle - but managed to avoid doing so. That was it, Chlorine beat Benzene by two goals to one.
...
"A good yard sharper than Chelsea."
Amazingly Andy temporarily re-calibrated his mind and perception of football, and decided on avoiding the usual "half a yard" unit of measurement. Quite simply an amazing occurrence that merits comparison with the frequency of a lunar eclipse.
It didn't last, of course, and the half-yard system was back in play within ten minutes, so normal (commentary) service was resumed. Sadly, so was the input from David Luiz who managed a signature shoulder-into-an-opponent just a couple of minutes later. As for Ramirez, why was he on the pitch; poor all round.
The second half got livelier, and the Torres goal put the cat among the pigeons. The main beneficiaries of Benfica's benevolence were the Chelsea players, who were awarded a fair few free kicks.
Then came the handball by Azpilicueta, allowing Benfica to score from the penalty spot. Ramirez continued to be shit, and David Luiz continued to be erratic. Then Ramirez was shit again. I sat and willed there to be some more cards flashed by the referee, as boredom started to set in. Sadly the ref was a cunt for not booking the player who clattered into Ramirez. Instead, he was determined to smile like a twat at everything and anything.
As a complete aside, what the fuck is the Benfica manager's hair all about. That 'style' went out in 1975, about the same time that Cossack was popular for keeping it in place. Also, who dressed the Benfica keeper in a 'nude' strip (what a pun!) or perhaps 'biscuit' seeing as a Rich Tea could be invisible against his shirt.
After Ramirez served up some more shit, Benfica got a a bit more possession. Then Ramirez ran at the goal to no effect, while Luiz sulked. The referee lost a bit more control of the game and I feared that we'd get another half and hour of him, and this tit-for-tat game of football. I was so bored that i even looked at the top of the screen and drew a weird conclusion:
BEN 1 - 1 CHL
I thought: "Benzene One, Chlorine One"
Then Lampard hit the bar, and I rued the miss, thinking that three minutes of injury time would not be enough to save us from extra time. Then it happened - with 60 seconds to go, Ivanovic headed in a corner. Unbelievable! Benfica should have drawn level seconds later, and just seconds before the final whistle - but managed to avoid doing so. That was it, Chlorine beat Benzene by two goals to one.
...
Tuesday, 14 May 2013
14.5.13 The People Play
Yes, the suffix is necessary to advise that Who Wants To Be A Millionaire is not swamped with so-called celebrities, but ordinary folk - even if they are generally thick. Who Wants To Be A Millionaire: The People Play was dire entertainment, and we could have done with having the one single 'celebrity' involved being removed from the show - Tarrant - and sent to a National Park somewhere, for Caroline Quentin to observe.
Tonight, I watched what can only be described as appalling television, courtesy of Chris Tarrant and the tiredest programme on ITV. This complete disaster of a show featured a stream of contestants who managed to win just a thousand fucking quid. Only one, the woman from Liverpool, got anything decent - £20,000.
You know things are shite when the audience needs to be consulted about which has no port: Plymouth, Penzance, Poole or Peterborough. Is this really the level of awareness in this country?
Then a thick bloke had to ask the audience for guidance because he was unable to recognize which of these is a mountain in Brazil: Salt Loaf, Sugar Loaf, Milk Loaf or Flour Loaf. Twat! Worse was to come when he then had to say what was linked to number five, in the rhyme about magpies, which starts "one for sorrow, two for joy". Many will have known "three for a girl and four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told". He went 50/50 and was left with Silver and Hope. Then he asked a friend who hadn't a fucking clue. He chose the latter, and dropped to £1000.
The competition question was pathetic. "British people are often said to have a 'stiff upper' what?"
Tooth Thigh Arm Lip
This just shows what a dumbed down fucking world we live in. This was NOT a competition to win a car plus money plus a holiday worth £90,000 in all, but straightforward gambling. There was no relevance to the programme, just a chance to spend money entering a lottery for the prize.
Tarrant rambled on with the same shit phrases that he's always muttering, and asked the usual pointless questions. Having goaded the woman into saying how much she wanted to win and what she'd do with the money, she gave answers and said that she probably sounded greedy, and Tarrant fucking said she did!!! Don't ask useless and leading fucking questions and then insult people, you pillock. If she'd answered "mind your own fucking business and ask the next question" then I'd have applauded from my sofa, and howled with laughter.
What's the crack with "phone a friend" then? No phoning! Fucking Skype-style input that takes away what was once a lifeline that worked without dragging three people to a studio and making them sit in cupboards out the back with a camera on them just in case. I also don't like the amounts of money; just who exactly couldn't cope with the old levels based on the powers of 2 then? Some clown behind the scenes has picked round numbers for no good reason.
The accountant chap struggled like hell to get to £2000 or £5000, and at whichever of these points it was, he came a cropper. PSY's follow-up to 'Gangnam Style' was posed as a question, with options: Gentlemen, Lady, Girl and Boy. The bloke suggested it was going to be Lady or Girl, but went 50/50, seeing both those options disappear. Close call. The dozy bloke he consulted on a final lifeline of "Ask Chris To Bring Up A Moron On Screen In Lieu Of Actually Phoning A Friend" was unable to contribute. Accountant opted for 'Boy' and so another person (who didn't add up to much, ha!) departed with £1000.
Hayley came on and seemed to concentrate well, showing a determination not to make any silly slip-up. She got to £20,000 but then fucked up big time. This was despite the audience giving variable input on which football club has just scored its 1800th top flight goal. Even Tarrant's hint to her that "the audience hasn't really got a clue" did not stop her going 50/50 and then opting for Chelsea based on 42% from the audience. The answer was Liverpool and she lost £19,000 to leave with £1000. Tit.
Before the klaxon, we just had time to see a 21-year-old get to £1000. In summary, then, I was completely unimpressed with the show, the format, Tarrant and the contestants. Not much left then, eh? All I hope is that Tarrant stops fucking saying "The Great British public". There is no such thing as Great British. "British" means "of or relating to the people of Great Britain" so the 'Great' in front of 'British' is totally wrong. If he is trying to say "great" with a small 'g' (I very much doubt this is the case) then what's so cunting great about them if they can only win a thousand fucking quid? AND - 'British' excludes those in Northern Ireland, which is hardly helpful in trying to avoid discrimination let alone keeping the United Kingdom united!
I am British. I am not Great British, nor am I a great British citizen. Who Wants To Be A Millionaire is Shit. It is not Great Shit, nor is it great Shit - it's just Shit, or Shite in some dialects.
...
Tonight, I watched what can only be described as appalling television, courtesy of Chris Tarrant and the tiredest programme on ITV. This complete disaster of a show featured a stream of contestants who managed to win just a thousand fucking quid. Only one, the woman from Liverpool, got anything decent - £20,000.
You know things are shite when the audience needs to be consulted about which has no port: Plymouth, Penzance, Poole or Peterborough. Is this really the level of awareness in this country?
Then a thick bloke had to ask the audience for guidance because he was unable to recognize which of these is a mountain in Brazil: Salt Loaf, Sugar Loaf, Milk Loaf or Flour Loaf. Twat! Worse was to come when he then had to say what was linked to number five, in the rhyme about magpies, which starts "one for sorrow, two for joy". Many will have known "three for a girl and four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told". He went 50/50 and was left with Silver and Hope. Then he asked a friend who hadn't a fucking clue. He chose the latter, and dropped to £1000.
The competition question was pathetic. "British people are often said to have a 'stiff upper' what?"
Tooth Thigh Arm Lip
This just shows what a dumbed down fucking world we live in. This was NOT a competition to win a car plus money plus a holiday worth £90,000 in all, but straightforward gambling. There was no relevance to the programme, just a chance to spend money entering a lottery for the prize.
Tarrant rambled on with the same shit phrases that he's always muttering, and asked the usual pointless questions. Having goaded the woman into saying how much she wanted to win and what she'd do with the money, she gave answers and said that she probably sounded greedy, and Tarrant fucking said she did!!! Don't ask useless and leading fucking questions and then insult people, you pillock. If she'd answered "mind your own fucking business and ask the next question" then I'd have applauded from my sofa, and howled with laughter.
What's the crack with "phone a friend" then? No phoning! Fucking Skype-style input that takes away what was once a lifeline that worked without dragging three people to a studio and making them sit in cupboards out the back with a camera on them just in case. I also don't like the amounts of money; just who exactly couldn't cope with the old levels based on the powers of 2 then? Some clown behind the scenes has picked round numbers for no good reason.
The accountant chap struggled like hell to get to £2000 or £5000, and at whichever of these points it was, he came a cropper. PSY's follow-up to 'Gangnam Style' was posed as a question, with options: Gentlemen, Lady, Girl and Boy. The bloke suggested it was going to be Lady or Girl, but went 50/50, seeing both those options disappear. Close call. The dozy bloke he consulted on a final lifeline of "Ask Chris To Bring Up A Moron On Screen In Lieu Of Actually Phoning A Friend" was unable to contribute. Accountant opted for 'Boy' and so another person (who didn't add up to much, ha!) departed with £1000.
Hayley came on and seemed to concentrate well, showing a determination not to make any silly slip-up. She got to £20,000 but then fucked up big time. This was despite the audience giving variable input on which football club has just scored its 1800th top flight goal. Even Tarrant's hint to her that "the audience hasn't really got a clue" did not stop her going 50/50 and then opting for Chelsea based on 42% from the audience. The answer was Liverpool and she lost £19,000 to leave with £1000. Tit.
Before the klaxon, we just had time to see a 21-year-old get to £1000. In summary, then, I was completely unimpressed with the show, the format, Tarrant and the contestants. Not much left then, eh? All I hope is that Tarrant stops fucking saying "The Great British public". There is no such thing as Great British. "British" means "of or relating to the people of Great Britain" so the 'Great' in front of 'British' is totally wrong. If he is trying to say "great" with a small 'g' (I very much doubt this is the case) then what's so cunting great about them if they can only win a thousand fucking quid? AND - 'British' excludes those in Northern Ireland, which is hardly helpful in trying to avoid discrimination let alone keeping the United Kingdom united!
I am British. I am not Great British, nor am I a great British citizen. Who Wants To Be A Millionaire is Shit. It is not Great Shit, nor is it great Shit - it's just Shit, or Shite in some dialects.
...
14.5.13 Weather Or Not
During April and May I have been reminded of what a pathetic collection of people make up weather presenters on TV. I have no idea what the collective noun is for this weird group of individuals. Perhaps a "Storm" of weather bods, or maybe a "Trickle".
To be in this oddest of groups, one has to have attributes that comply with at least three of the following criteria, although most have managed to achieve rather more than that.
To be in this oddest of groups, one has to have attributes that comply with at least three of the following criteria, although most have managed to achieve rather more than that.
- The ability to wink at the end of a weather summary
- The obsession with describing showers as 'wintry' because they fall between October and May
- The lack of dress sense
- The inclination to tell people to 'take care'
- The free use of the phrase 'spits and spots of rain'
- The spooky use of arms, hands and fingers to point out areas affected
- The inability to count, confirmed through use of, for example, "highs of 19" when that is just one high
- Smiling inappropriately - and even flirting
- Being Sian Lloyd
- Talking gibberish
- Using the word 'mistiness' when 'mist' will fucking do
- Annoying me by saying at the end, "That's your weather" - it's not mine!
Here are some recent quotes:
- The winds will get their act together
- A little hint of winteriness
- A bit of sleetiness
- Some spits and spots of drizzly rain
- Just a chance of the odd spit or spot of rain
- Bits and pieces of rain
- Some showers, some of them hefty ones
- Showers trickling down towards Cornwall
- Coastal fog a threat down to the south
- The sun will puncture its way through the cloud
- The weather's cheering up by Friday
- Temperatures a lot more comfortable than they have been
- In the south, 13 or 14 degrees, maybe squeaking 15
- Highs of 22 or 23; enjoy
This last one was most annoying; how dare the cunt tell me to 'enjoy', and it's hardly down to her because she's not serving it up!
What bollocks!
...
14.5.13 BAFTAs
Reasonably entertaining this year (except of course for Bruce Forsythe appearing briefly) and no one can argue that Michael Palin is not a deserved winner of the Fellowship award.
I did struggle, though, to get too excited about many of the nominations, as they were for programmes I've never even heard of let alone seen. I reckon that with so many channels these days, it's meant awards are given out well before many people have become viewers. How the public is supposed to vote (and I would dearly love to know how many people actually bother) for a favourite from a shortlist that includes the Olympics Opening Ceremony as well as Call The Midwife. How can these be compared, and what the hell is Games of Thrones, other than apparently worthy of a BAFTA?
Then of course there are some strange classifications, such as "Reality and Constructed Factual". My oh my, what a weird world, and for Made In Chelsea to win the BAFTA proves that there are far too many awards waiting to be won these days. "Award Winning" has never ever been such a pointless and devalued description.
There was of course the need for those in charge to reward the usual shit that's somehow always on the receiving end of praise. I refer to Richard II and Henry IV Part 2, Subsection 7. Then there was the peculiar All In The Best Possible Taste with Grayson Perry - something which should be sent into outer space to frighten off extra terrestrial life.
As long as Vicious doesn't get an award next year, whether for 'Comedy' or 'Constructed Fucking Shit', then I'll be happy. The only excuse would be if the BAFTA meant 'Bollocks and Fuck That's Awful'. There will be still competition though with The Wright Way for the worst half-hour anyone could spend watching a programme on TV.
...
I did struggle, though, to get too excited about many of the nominations, as they were for programmes I've never even heard of let alone seen. I reckon that with so many channels these days, it's meant awards are given out well before many people have become viewers. How the public is supposed to vote (and I would dearly love to know how many people actually bother) for a favourite from a shortlist that includes the Olympics Opening Ceremony as well as Call The Midwife. How can these be compared, and what the hell is Games of Thrones, other than apparently worthy of a BAFTA?
Then of course there are some strange classifications, such as "Reality and Constructed Factual". My oh my, what a weird world, and for Made In Chelsea to win the BAFTA proves that there are far too many awards waiting to be won these days. "Award Winning" has never ever been such a pointless and devalued description.
There was of course the need for those in charge to reward the usual shit that's somehow always on the receiving end of praise. I refer to Richard II and Henry IV Part 2, Subsection 7. Then there was the peculiar All In The Best Possible Taste with Grayson Perry - something which should be sent into outer space to frighten off extra terrestrial life.
As long as Vicious doesn't get an award next year, whether for 'Comedy' or 'Constructed Fucking Shit', then I'll be happy. The only excuse would be if the BAFTA meant 'Bollocks and Fuck That's Awful'. There will be still competition though with The Wright Way for the worst half-hour anyone could spend watching a programme on TV.
...
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