Day Twelve
Strictly Come Dancing
Saturday nights, eh? Back in the dim and distant yesteryear of two years ago on this very webshite, I bemoaned (as I do) about the absolute bollocks that gets thrown our way. In 2009, we were getting Hole in the Wall (last time I saw that, it had been relegated to CBBC), and in 2011, we're still getting X Factor (which is on ITV1, so I don't get to ever see it anyway, but its presence is still painful, like ten minutes after getting kicked in the nuts), and we've still got Strictly Come Dancing.
It gets its own advent window this year because its symbolic of the lowest common denominator light entertainment shitemare that's taken over the telly in recent years. Doddering Slinger's Day star Brucie "Bruce" Forsyth and Vernon Kay marriage dupe Tess "Tickle" Daly mug to the cameras whilst a slurry of z-list ne'er-do-works show off in front of a barely-live studio audience. Dream scheduling for ITV, yet it's filling up a multitude of timeslots that could be, nay, should be taken by programmes that make you think, laugh and cry, not staring in snoozing wonder as if you're morbidly watching Brucie's last hurrah.
The BBC, in recent years, have revived family viewing in Merlin, Robin Hood (okay, not the best example) and, of course, Doctor Who. Have a decent sitcom in there, a strong sketch show (I'd guess something like Armstrong & Miller, not the piss-awful chav-targeted Impressions Show), maybe even a music-based show, and you've got a reasonable line-up. Unfortunately, premium-rate phone lines and anachronistic ballroom dancing micro-slebs seem to be the way forward, and one has to wonder what the BBC are fucking playing at.
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Speaking as a spouse of a Saturday night TV enthusiast: amen, brother. A-muthafuckin'-men.
ReplyDeleteAs one series enters its well earned coda, we're promised 'Dancing on twatting Ice' in the new year.
Every morning I weep into my Cornflakes.
Thanks for stopping by, sir.
ReplyDeleteYes, the BBC has truly reached its nadir, yet they keep fucking dancing in the trough. Bastards.
It may seem a bit mean-spirited, but I would gladly tune into Dancing on Graves if it featured some of these people I've never heard of (some of whom have their own Wikipedia stub).