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

Oh, I See... The truth Behind the IOC

Is it just me, or does the Beijing Olympic stadium look a bit like a... Like a...... Nevermind, forget I said anything.

Quote of The Week

Alan Brazil: I like Cambridge City, not as much as Colchester but they're my second team.
Paul Hawksby: Ever been punting on your trips to Cambridge?
Alan Brazil: What do you mean? Cambridge Dogs?

MAIN EVENT

Do you fancy throwing me a party? You know, a great big shindig in my honour, with my name plastered over everything...

Yeah? Great!

Couple of minor details, the party needs to be two whole weeks long. You’ll also need to buy in a whole load of expensive equipment and build loads of stuff that you’ll never use again - a permanent bouncy castle bunker, underground Mexican takeaway, stuff like that. Naturally this will be entirely at your own expense. There’ll be photographers and journalists everywhere so you’ll need to make sure the place is spotless and that any embarrassing friends and relatives are out of sight. Oh, and another thing, I’ve got loads of mates coming over to sell stuff in your back garden, that’s cool right? I wouldn’t ask, only they’ve already given me a load of money. I’d cut you in but, y’know I don’t want to.

Actually, come to think of it I’ve got a few other people interested in throwing this massive party for me so you’re going to need to kiss my arse and buy me presents for a year or two before I decide to let you hold it.

What’s that? What do you get in return? Well, you get the right to say you’re having my party. Isn’t that enough?

Still interested? If so, great! Don’t read any more of this and give me a call...

For anyone who isn’t completely daft, congratulations, you’re less gullible than all the governments of the developed world. The above is exactly the deal that the International Olympic Committee gives host nations like Beijing and London. You know the estimated £9.4 billion pounds of tax payer’s money that’s going to be spent on the 2012 games? Well, not one penny of that will be made back by the event itself.

Not that a lot of money isn’t going to be floating around the games. Olympic sponsorship is one of the most expensive endorsements you can buy (despite the fact that many, many more people watch the World Cup*). It’s impossible to quantify exactly, though it’s fair to say Olympic sponsorship costs more than it delivers in terms of increased sales, it’s just an exercise in corporate cock-measuring** a way of saying, we are the biggest company who do whatever we do.

Never ones to miss an opportunity to exploit someone, the IOC then makes the sponsors run the bloody games for them – that’s right they don’t do that either. Tag Heuer will handle the timekeeping, Lenovo will run the computer system and supply all hardware, McDonalds will be expected to flood the olympic village with their ‘restaurants’*** etc. After all that, the companies don’t even get to put their logos anywhere near the only thing that anybody is watching, the events - that would pollute the Olympic brand!

Right, so the host cities don’t see a penny of the sponsorship money however, they do get**** a load of sports facilities. Although if history’s anything to go by they won’t be used an awful lot. I’ve been to the Barcelona Olympic village twice now - it’s a very beautiful ghost town, Athens’s facilities lie unused and largely unfinished. Sydney still use theirs but let’s be fair, we’re talking about a nation so sport obsessed that 11 people randomly picked from in and around Darling Harbour could probably beat England at Cricket. London is not Sydney - somehow I don’t see East London having a tremendous amount of use for a vellodrome, do you?

What about the hundreds of people on the ground who work to make the Olympics happen, the stewards, the drivers etc? Surely they’re IOC employees. Well, no those people are - I shit you, not – volunteers. Yep that’s right, tragic individuals who have drunk IOC coolade.

So, all in all the IOC do nothing except pick a city and cash a cheque. They even have the nerve to call themselves “A catalyst for collaboration” and a “Service to humanity.”

This is a nice idea but it doesn’t really bear scrutiny. I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking that humanity was not especially well served by undermining decades of work to force the Chinese government to be less shitty to its people by giving it a great big international pat on the head. Oh yeah and then there’s the whole thing about letting a Nazi dictatorship host one in 1936 but we’re not supposed to mention that.

In any other situation the Olympics would be called what they are, a scam... Though to be fair it is a brilliant one, probably the greatest ever. IOC, I salute you

*300 million tuned in last December to watch the draw for the 2006 World Cup! That’s 300 million watching a fat man pulling balls out of a pot!

**The Olympic Games is one of those things that would cease to exist if there were a decent number of female CEOs. Just like team-building trips, or high class whores.

***Something the marathon runners are absolutely thrilled by!

****By get I of course mean pay for and build themselves.

RICHARD DAWKINS CAN FUCK OFF!

When it comes to religion I’m really not sure what I believe and to be honest I don’t give it a tremendous amount of thought. My view is that I’ll find out eventually so why stress about it now. If there is a God then I’m not a massive bastard really, I should be able to talk my way into heaven or at least a non-smoking table in hell. If there isn’t and it turns out we really are just a giant evolutionary mishap then it won’t matter – I’ll be dead.

The truth is that no one can prove anything either way which is why it continually baffles me that people - often very intelligent people - seem to feel the need to discuss the question at length. These conversations are the definition of pointless and are basically just the intellectual equivalent of those debates about meaningless triviality you have when you’re stoned. Y’know the ones where one guy will swear blind that Marilyn Manson was in ‘The Wonder Years’ or that Dogs can’t look up and another guy will strenuously disagree. Neither side has any means of proving their point but both believe themselves to be 100% right and a very boring discussion ensues.

This is the way a conversation about religion between a religious person and an atheist should go...

“I believe that Jesus Christ died for our sins and that God is looking out for us all”

“That’s nice, I don’t though”

“Fair enough, would you like some pie?”

Of course that almost never happens, (especially the bit about the pie) what usually happens is that the atheist starts talking loudly about fossils and evolution whilst everyone else edges away slowly.

Some atheists aren’t satisfied by simply having this argument and feel the need to actually dedicate their lives to it by writing books and appearing on TV. One such twat, sorry academic, is Richard Dawkins*, a scientist and author who has a chair** at Oxford University. He’s done other stuff in the past but at the moment his whole thing seems to be going round the world and explaining to religious people that they’ve wasted their lives.

That’s fine I guess, the question is why? He’s an atheist why does he care? It’s got nothing to do with him. It’s like straight men being interested in lesbian sex. Sorry bad example, er okay, lets say it’s like a man being interested in sanitary towels.

It certainly can’t be to help them – “Gee thanks Richard – I used to believe that there was a plan to the universe, I helped people less fortunate than myself and I had no fear of death. Good job you stopped all that.”

One reason he cites is that wars have been fought over religion, therefore it is bad. Yes Richard, wars have been fought over religion, millions of people have died in its name but do you really think that there would have been no war without it? I think we’d probably just have had wars for different reasons don’t you? Sadly people just fight with each other sometimes, people’s interests are at odds sometimes, sometimes people look across borders and think ‘Y’know what? I’d quite like all that land for myself.’ More often than not religion’s just an excuse.

‘Religion gets in the way of scientific progress!’ is another justification for this campaign of one-upmanship. Yeah you’re right it probably does, but actually scientists don’t get to determine the course of humanity on their own. I know you want to play with all the exciting new science right away but everyone’s got to live together on this planet and it’s quite reasonable that the ethics of, and popular support for things like human cloning are interrogated properly, by everyone. Me you and a billion other people may think that stem-cell research is brilliant but some people don’t and they get to be heard too before we go ahead and start messing around, so be patient***. Splitting the atom seemed like a great idea too remember? Because of that we almost blew the planet up in the 60’s. Let’s just behave like mature adults rather than kids the week before Christmas okay?

But what about intolerance? Religions promote intolerance right? Okay, a very small minority use religion as an excuse to be homophobic, racist etc. But again, there are just small minded people in the world who are going to see somebody doing something different and get all angry. People hear what they want to - if someone’s chosen to fixate on the obscure parts of the bible or the qur’an that deride homosexuality then, let’s be honest, they’re most probably quite the homophobe anyway. It’s not as if there aren’t racist/sexist/homophobic academics now is it?

What he of course downplays on his TV show and in his book is the positives that come from religion, the charitable giving and actions, the great works of art and architecture (not so much music). Michelangelo had such a hard-on for God that he created arguably the greatest work of art in history. I’m pretty sure people will still be going to see the Sistine Chapel when every copy of ‘The God Delusion’ has been rightly pulped - are we really more of an advanced society without God?

Even if we assume that what he says is all true (quite the assumption) he is still basically just being a mean spirited little gob-shite - like the guys who delight in ruining the twists in films by telling you right at the start: “By the way, there’s no heaven and Bruce Willis is a ghost.”

So, in conclusion; are those guys at the Christian rock concert waving their hands in the air a little weird? Yes. Deluded? Maybe, but you definitely can’t call them miserable. They’ve figured out a way to exist in this bizarre world that works for them and they’re not hurting anyone, so leave them alone you sanctimonious prick!

*If for nothing else he’s a cock for this tag-line on his website, ‘Richard Dawkins.Net: A Clear Thinking Oasis.’ What-a-bell-end!

**Most people send their children but whatever works mate

***I have become my Mother

Local Elections Live: Part 2/2

12.30 - 13.30

I'm making serious headway with the first bottle of wine so expect some splling mastikes soon....

12.30: For the first time ever Labour have lost control of Bedworth. It's gone blue! The BNP gained two seats as well... So obviously an educated ward!

Tessa Jowell is completely freaking out! By the end of the night I expect her to be cowering in the corner of the set, babbling incoherantly and wearing a tin-foil hat.

Seriously though, that's pretty bad. This is going to be a long night for Labour.

12.45: Jeremy Vine is dressed up as a cowboy and doing a southern accent while he talks about projected Lib Dem percentages. Am I awake?

12.45: Tories take control of Southampton according to Tony King it's "Sensational!"

12.50: Tories about to take Colchester after promising everyone a free convertible white Ford Escort (Probably).

Pretty much all anyone is saying tonight is Conservative gain, Conservative gain, Conservative gain! Tessa Jowell looks as if she's about to cry, every cloud eh?

13.05: Tories have more councils under their control now than Labour did at their peak in the 90s... Bottle of wine 2 now I think.

13.10: Boris Johnson's Dad is on TV now. He reminds me of uncle Monty from 'Withnail and I'. 'I mean to have you boy!'

13.25: Jeremy Vine is the King of the laboured analogy, this time something about Gordon Brown and Mr. Bean.

Right it's 1.30 and I'm tired and drunk. I'm going to knock this on the head and just declare the Labour Party totally fucked.

Boris Johnson is seeming a lot less humourous now...

Local Elections Live: Part 1/2

11.30 – 12.30

Hello and welcome to the NORLJ coverage of the local elections. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t particularly up for this half an hour ago but I just heard Richard Littlejohn Refer to ‘So called climate change’ on Newsnight and it worked like Popeye with Spinach! I’m angry enough to write now.

I've got one bottle of alright wine and one bottle of awful wine and I'm powered by righteous indignation.

Suffice to say... It’s on!

11.45: Tessa Jowell (tonight looking like Skeletor's Mum) is trying not to sound worried and getting beaten up by David Dimbleby.

Charles Kennedy tonight is played tonight by Bert from Sesame street.

This is the segment of the evening where nobody knows anything and nothing's happened so everything anyone's saying is essentially meaningless. They might as well talk about The Apprentice.

11.50: Off to Bury to talk about Black Puddings and how nobody gives a shit about the war anymore. Which war? Then to Wales, where things are progressing slowly... Big fucking surprise!

Emily Maitliss in City Hall in London (where is that?) is talking to some bloggers in the same way you might talk to an eight year old before a nativity play. They've got a great big shiny set with a bar in it!

12.00: Lab -1 LD -3 Con +4 Oth 0

12.00 - 12.15: Massive technical failure with my fucking Dell! (always save, kids).

The Lib Dems have taken control of Hull City Council, Labour retain Knowlesley (wherever that is). Bunch of other results that I can't be arsed to type.

12.25: 52% of people think Gordon Brown is a liability.

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE ELECTORAL COMMISSION

Fuckhead Revisited:

The future Prime Minister, the future London Mayor and the rest of the Bullingdon Boys photographed shortly before going off to get smashed and destroy some poor sod's restaurant. Hoorah!

(Boris Johnson: bottom right, David Cameron: top row, second from left)

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE ELECTORAL COMMISSION

Dear Electoral Commission,

How are you? I’m fine. My name is Matthew Thomas and I’d like to suggest some changes to the voting system ahead of the London mayoral elections tomorrow. I know it’s late notice but if you hear me out I think you’ll see the logic.

They say your politics become more moderate as you get older. It’s true, when I was 16 I believed socialism was the only ethical way to run a society and that everybody on the right of the political spectrum was a selfish, myopic twat. Now that I have had time to mature and learn about the world, I believe socialism is the only ethical way to run a society and that everybody on the right of the political spectrum is a selfish, myopic twat, with excellent taste in wine, some interesting things to say about cricket and the ability to get Wimbledon tickets without queuing.

You could say that maturity has given me a more rounded opinion of conservatives as people and softened my, admittedly extreme, views about what to do with them in the event of a revolution*. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I like many of them – and not just because they’re my bosses. Whilst I still find them cold-hearted and illogical, I’ve even come to understand their views a little better, particularly in the run-up to Thursday’s mayoral election.

Let me explain. It’s fair to assume that this is now a two horse race between Ken Livingstone and a real-life P.G Wodehouse character called Boris Johnson. They enjoy pretty much equal support with Boris ahead in the richer suburbs and Ken Livingstone ahead amongst the working classes in the inner-cities.

For a while I was completely baffled by how Boris, a man who has made a career out of being an incompetent boob; who edited a magazine that nobody reads and still managed to cause a national scandal; who once described black people as ‘flag-waving piccaninnies’ with ‘watermelon smiles’; whose whole persona is based on being, y’know NOT VERY GOOD AT THINGS, could actually be in with a shout of running Europe’s biggest city. Then it hit me, I realised why. The wealthy people voting for Boris simply aren’t qualified to make a decision of this magnitude.

I know, I know, that’s pretty insulting but hear me out. The residents of Richmond, Belgravia, Putney are very confused. It’s our fault really, when you’re struggling to pay £500+ per week in rent on a pitifully low salary and spending half your life wedged against Perspex panel 100 metres below ground it’s easy to forget that when you mention job-seekers allowance to these people they think of gardening leave and a 6-figure golden handshake.

We really should have explained better, after all they have little or no experience of the NHS, state education, unemployment, council housing or benefits. They’re not in debt, they haven’t paid rent in a long time, the air quality where they live is fine, they won’t need a state pension, crime for them is someone taking their seat in All Bar One and if they use the tube it tends to be beautifully run lines like the jubilee and they certainly don’t take the bus.**

So you see, they’re not qualified to speak on pretty much all of the issues.

Oh, sorry I forgot there is tax and nonsense like the congestion and emissions charges. These they’re intimately acquainted with, seeing as they’re the ones with the money*** and the ones who can afford to drive in London. This obviously isn’t enough to chat about for an entire dinner party so new and exciting issues have to be invented also – cue immigration panic, family values panic, gay marriage panic etc****.

Conservatives rail against the notion that they’re self interested and out of touch, but when your entire rationale for making a decision is based what’s best financially for you and your already privileged family, your right to drive a ridiculous car + some invented fluff, I really don’t see what else to call it.

That’s why I’m proposing that we reclassify Chelsea, Richmond, Kingston, Wimbledon, Belgravia, Balham and Clapham as rotten boroughs. Maybe then we’ll get to have a proper debate.

Thoughts?

Your’s Faithfully,

Matt.

*Let’s just say it involved a game reserve on the Isle of Wight and genetically modified giant Foxes riding wolves – you can guess the rest.

**Admittedly not all of these issues fall within the remit of the London Mayor but national issues have always been factors in people’s choices in local elections. In other news, cats dislike dogs and there’s no such thing as the Loch Ness Monster.

***Which of course they hauled themselves up by their bootstraps to get with absolutely no help from their, upbringing, accidents of birth or the rest of society.

****Strangely global warming panic hasn’t quite taken hold yet.