JUMPING THE SHARK

Is that a surprised face or a yawn? I can't decide...

I don’t know why people complain that politicians are arrogant and out of touch.

I’m not saying they’re not. I’m just saying it’s obvious, like moaning that the grass is too green. These are people that presume, not only that they should be running the country, but also that thousands upon thousands of people will agree with them. In a sane world they would be called delusional and put in an institution but no, we give them nuclear launch codes.

For the same reason, it’s completely futile to point out that Big Brother housemates are dull, attention seeking, twats. Of course they are! They’ve volunteered, actually volunteered, to be locked in a house with no books, no television, no music and only other mentalists to talk to.

We know they aren’t interesting and we know that nothing of any consequence at all is going to happen but every year we (myself included) keep watching. It’s just another one of those staggeringly illogical things that human beings do like washing cars, barbequing and buying bottled water.

This year’s siphoning of human slurry is a new low. It’s not that they’re particularly repulsive, or offensive, or deformed. It’s that they’re hauntingly familiar. During the introductory show I watched housemate after housemate prance into the house thinking ‘don’t I know you?’ each time.

After a while I became paranoid that I actually did know all of them. Was I the twist? Were they filling the house with casual acquaintances of mine, only to install me against my will in week three forcing me to make protracted stultifying awkward small-talk for two and a half gruelling months?

I had to find a place to lay low for a while a place where Davina couldn’t catch me. Just as I was booking my ticket to Afghanistan I stopped, suddenly realising where I knew them all from. Where? Why, previous series’ of Big Brother of course! I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I realised that almost every one of them is simply doing an impression of their favourite housemate past, it’s like watching a really eerie tribute band.

Of course, for several years now the show has happily trundled along like a bilge spewing tanker on an ocean of hackneyed clichés and stock characters* - Even the casual observer will recognise the hilarious annual conversation about the sparkling media career each housemate is planning or the daily discussion about who does or doesn’t have a game plan – but never so obviously as this year. I don’t want to get my hopes up but I think the country is finally waking up to the fact that everything, absolutely everything they are seeing has happened before. In a year or two we may even be free entirely.

That’s right Big brother has finally jumped the shark**.

*The stock characters/strategies employed by BB housemates are listed below...

Shouty Cow: Turning yourself into a pantomime villain can be very effective. Simply bellow at the top of your voice and constantly belittle everyone in your path. Note: no witty put downs, keep it simple - root one unpleasantness. Oh, and remember to single out the nice middle class girl for particular venom.

This only works if you’re a woman because, as we all know, when men shout it’s intimidating and unacceptable. When women shout it’s great telly!

Eg. Charlie, Alexandra...

Gay Man: Only pantomime stereotypes need apply. This ridiculous country’s latent homophobia can only be allayed by viewing the gay community as hyper-real, entertainers. Be warned, as soon as your facade cracks and you turn out to be a real human being just like them you will probably be voted off.

Eg. Brian, Marco, Dennis, that Greek guy from last year...

Disabled Person: This one’s hard to fake but if you happen to be disabled you’re in with a serious shout of winning the thing purely because people will be terrified of nominating you. ‘That Dave is so lazy, always wheeling himself round in his chair, God, talk about a primadona!’ Can’t quite see that sentence happening can you? Seriously, this housemate could take his/her morning piss in the cornflakes every day and still not get voted out.

Eg. Pete (tourettes), Mikey (blind), Nadia (Penis)

Pretty Girl: If you happen to be ridiculously fit you could do worse than going on the show and simply lazing around in the sun, rubbing sun tan lotion on your thighs for a couple of months.

Some bint tries this every year. You won’t win but that’s not the point, when you eventually leave you’ll walk onto the cover of Nuts, Zoo, FHM, etc. Immediately setting the porn for cowards brigade into their traditional dead-eyed masturbatory stance for a couple of weeks.

There’s only one rule, don’t open your mouth. Unless of course it’s to talk about how you’ve always wondered what sex with a woman would be like – the readers of Zoo wonder that too.

Eg. Chanelle, Shell, Michelle (do you see a theme here) and of course Imogen.

Really Stupid: We love idiots, they make us feel good. That’s why no stand-up comedian will ever go broke as long as he/she has plenty of jokes about Americans. Just being thick isn’t enough though, you need to be thick in comparison to the rest of the house. This requires monumental levels of stupidity but if you can make it work you can win.

Eg. Brian, Jade

Filth: Getting grotty on TV is a pretty shameless way to get attention but it works. Just beware the law of diminishing returns.

Eg. Kinga, Michelle...

Genuinely Nice Person: These guys do exist in the show. One generally turns up about every two years though because they haven’t done anything particularly horrific you generally don’t notice them until the final few weeks.

Eg. Craig, Pete, Shell... Um, I think that might be it.

** By the way, for those who dont know, ‘Jumping the Shark,’ is a reference to the exact moment when Happy Days became shit.

Perfect Family?

BT’s ‘perfect family’ campaign is one of the most sinister things on television...

On the face of it it’s a cosy image - Attractive thirty-odd brunette with two kids meets bumbling, lovely Kris Marshall. One thing leads to another and they all move into a stainless steel/magenta box somewhere non-specific in London. How idyllic. It’s the modern Bisto family. Of course there are problems along the way but it’s okay because they can all be solved by BT products, allowing everyone to continue in high brightness, low contrast bliss*.

Or do they? If you look closely enough you see that these ‘wholesome’ adverts actually show the harrowing tale of the slow steady erosion of a relationship as it descends into a mess of power games, stony silences and, eventually, adultery.

Don't believe me? Well, think back to the couple’s heady early days - Kris sits at the kitchen table stressing out about the fact that he’s now officially trapped in a relationship. With his ready-made family already bonding with him he has no way out except to behave like a complete cunt and flee, adding yet another betrayal to the children’s already long list. Of course he can’t do that he’s Kris Marshall.

Meanwhile, to seal the deal and allay her crippling doubts about his love for her, Thirty-Odd Brunette forces him to get a joint account (online obviously), a symbolic but highly potent representation of their union but it only serves to underline his absolute fuckedness.

From then on something dies in Marshall, he’s forced to get a trendy haircut and wears a constant callow frown. He becomes distant towards Thirty-Odd Brunette and when looking around houses, is reduced to making impotent, snarky remarks to the estate agent, “Costafortunum?” Whenever the kids wander in he appears bemused and avoids interaction by simply plonking them in front of BT Vision digital TV (Available from £30 a month) and when their real Dad turns up Kris’s expression seems to say ‘Teach me your ways, how can I get away from this, how can I be a bastard like you?’

The final straw for the pair is when, confused and alienated by her husband/boyfriend’s** indifference, Thirty-Odd Brunette withholds sex or ‘perks’ (the emasculating term Marshall has taken to using).

So what next for the increasingly bitterly ironic ‘perfect family’ campaign? Well I have a theory, remember that black girl at the party, the one that appeared and reminded Kris of his lost freedom and then did the same thing again in the record shop? She’s what’s known as ‘a crow at a wedding,’ a harbinger of doom that reveals your eventual destiny to you ahead of time.

He may not have sex with the black girl but he will probably stray – he’s already started justifying it to himself ‘It’s good to have a few secrets’ etc. I’d say we’re two years away from the ad where Kris organises his affair cheaply and efficiently with a combination of BT Total Broadband personal email and free weekend calls to land lines, taking advantage of personal settings to forward any calls from his other girlfriend to his BT Fusion Mobile when he’s out.

Of course Thirty-Odd Brunette will find out. She’ll probably see a photo of them on facebook and have no problem downloading it because of BT Broadband’s generous download limits. She may even back it up with ‘Digital Vault’ to torture herself further before drunkenly confronting him in front of the kids.

I’m sorry, I hope I’m wrong but it seems to me that the ‘perfect family’ are on borrowed cut-rate call time.

*What is the deal with the washed out colours?

**Are they married or arent they? Nobody cares - how very modern of you BT