Right, this one might sound a little... well, up my own arse, truth be told. But as someone I don't respect much once said, "blogging's not writing, it's masturbating." Now given the nature of the man in question, he may have been referring to some perverse and utterly illegal pastime of his, involving his computer keyboard and screen. I don't know, don't want to. But I'll choose to take his statement metaphorically- blogging is done to please oneself, and no one else. Keep that in mind if you find yourself getting annoying by my statements to follow, and then fuck off.
I was watching something on telly this evening. Guesstimation I think it was called, and sometime during the watching of said program (hereafter to be known as, in the words of the rather wonderful Robert Webb, "that tawdry piece of shit") I found myself getting quite sad. Well, no, actually, sad is the wrong word... Melancholic? Thoughtful? Pissed off? Horny? Frankly, I've been finding it difficult to tell the difference lately. But that's a blog for another day.
Point is: something about that innane piece of mind-numbing, mawkish kack had a negative effect on me. Not very negative, true, but enough. Why? you may ask. I'll tell you. Not because it was provocative, insulting, saddening, challenging, depressing or any other valuable, so-called unpleasant quality. No, the reason it made me unhappy was because it was none of those things.
If I may be so bold (and this is my blog so you can bet your sweet behind I may be), I think this is an important, no, it's a goddamned fucking crucial point. Life, lived properly, should be about challenging yourself, and tv should be just the same. It should be risky, ambitious, and for the love of one your gods, it should at least be thoughtful. Now, don't get me wrong or misquote me, there is a very big and welcome place for "light" television. Of course there is- Stephen Fry's Kingdom, for those who haven't seen it, is a wonderful example. Not too taxing or stressful, but quality, goddamit. Good.
Hang on, Shane. Hold up there Singey-boy, don't get your fanny in a knot. Sometime a hundred days ago you were talking about a gameshow on telly. Don't look at me like that, you know very well you were. Guesstimation, you believed it was called. For the love of Christ, stop sucking your thumb. What we all reading this want to know is, and I'm going to try and be as scrumptious as possible: WHAT THE FUCK HAS ANY OF THIS GOT TO DO WITH A TV PROGRAM?!!!! You self-absorbed, arrogant knit, stop wasting our time cunting around and get to the motherflippin', hoe-hittin', pimp-slappin' point.
Right, point. I didn't like that show because it lacked ambition. Because it's makers, presenter and contestants were quite clearly willing to spend there lives dwelling in the unfortunate, tedious cesspit that is mediocrity, and that, rather unfortunately, defines a vast amount of what is seen on telly, and always will. Run-on sentence, anyone?
Have a happy, ambitious, unsettling life,
S.xxx
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