Mr Bloggy

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Location: London, Timor-Leste

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Superbloggy

Right, reality tv is brilliant. Any blogger who dares to disagree is being a tad hypocritical. The information revolution, and tv as a genuine means of communication, has reached a beautiful high that people could only have dreamed of. The Running Man, and other fantasies about future media, assumed that the televised spectacle would reach its lowest denominator by catering to violent urges that are assumed to be innate. But that's bollocks. What really happens, is that people show an urge to not watch the violent, but to watch the emotions and life of other people. And not just people as created by scriptwriters, but people as created by themselves. The love of watching reality tv is as natural and beautiful as the love of watching football.

Of course, the big concern here is that the tv companies are not reproducing fact, or creating fiction, they are shaping the real, as we stand in it. This is a dangerous game. The last big brother troubled people greatly because it failed to leave out people whose best interests were blatantly not being in a small, watched environment with tossers. At the same time, this mistake was not surprising, given the program's desire to include people according to the program's motives, and trust the contestants to make the right decision according to their own reasoning. It doesn't exclude or include according to typical social taboos- they've allowed transexuals, disabled, young, old, gay, minorities, etc. It doesn't pass ethical judgement on contestants when selecting them, so the ability to medically assess them is a grey area. Needless to say, only a short time ago, gays, transexuals, people with tourettes etc. would have been ethically screened from tv programs. So it's a shame that Shabaz was on Big Brother, but no surprise. The program selected according to a profit logic, and the contestant mis-judged their own application. Then walked-out.

What I'm getting at here, is that reality tv bashers should think twice. There is an ethical concern, but everyone volunteers with a great knowledge of the possible consequences. Not like medical trials. There's nothing wrong with watching people run around for our amusement, cos that's football. Some people get hurt, and their life is changed for ever, just for pursuing the adulation of a country. Enjoying watching a game is ace. People have probably learned more from watching Supernanny and Wife Swap than from reading newspaper columnists. People participating in Jeremy Kyle and Faking It have done so for the opportunity to meaningfully improve their life- for free. Something the NHS and the New Deal fails at. And for once, non-fiction tv is showing people's lives in contexts that encourage thought, rather than throwing about instructions and news, or being straight documentary- like the great 7 up series.

Which leads to the important point. Has anyone else noticed that Supernanny has failed in every episode this series? The last fifteen minutes have just shown the family playing a big, physical game that makes everybody smile. And then we're meant to marvel at the fact she's calmed down the kids and adults by bringing out a giant snakes and ladders game. Piss off. Those kids are fucked by their parents, and there's nothing tv is going to do to change them.

Footnotes: None.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Things, can only get better.... can only get better

How fucking brilliant. About time Osama bin Laden decided to stand down. Years, he's been leading the global jihad, and al-Qaeda. Apparently, he was forced to step down by a large hog in the neighbouring cave, who did his head in so much, that he said it was about time he published his memoirs and settled down in the suburbs. His dialysis machine needed replacing too. He called the last few years 'Not the best of times that al-Qaeda's had. It was all such a laugh at first, I was the credible alternative. Pretty, from rich stock, a smile to make your daughters go wet. Play army against the Russians, just like in Rocky IV. Then all these bombs started going off, people wanted me out of the way. So bollocks to 'em. I'm going, screw this fucking al-qaeda party. I never believed in it anyway, I just like to be liked. It's not even a party, there's no Whitney Houston for starters. I just want to dance with somebody. Yeah, somebody who loves me. Say you want to dance, don't you want to dance, with me baby. Say you want to dance..." At this point, the footage went grainy and large bangs were heard, as the fight to suceed him began.

Hardly news

I've been to one. Definitely common.

Chairman Mao says...

Change will come, change will come, from the magic of a wand

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

As promised

Do you remember when I promised to give you a blog entry about world cup what I'd typed...

The 2 greatest things God gave us were the World Cup and holidays.

'You pull on a shirt. It's a booking. You don't go ten yards. It's a booking. You look cross-eyed at the referee. It's a booking.' Mick McCarthy, 14.57, Saturday

Luis Figo has been kicked in the face. No one was booked. Figo has been giventhe scar across his cheek that has, always, rightfully, been due to Figo.

Mick McCarthy provides the commentary like a miserablist, more righteously than Geoff Boycott in the pub.

Clash of Civilisations

Inside the gravitational field of the supremely modern Olympiastadion, the Brazilian fans were pulled, dancing, towards the turnstiles. The carnival of yellow, bouncing like Drogba at a corner, singing like Pavarotti, drumming like Brazilians. Oh wait. They are Brazilians. Just like you pictured them.

On the balcony, with the Croats, people rush to see the myth. With faces painted red and white, hair as short as Dennis Wise, people hard as Vinnie Jones. The giant tablecloth looks down on Brazilian dancing custard, and pulls out an air-horn

HOONNKK! HONNKK! HONNKKKKK!

All is quiet.

Monday, September 04, 2006

RIPper

This has upset me, despite the facetious aussie headline. A football commentator would call his death ironic. It's not, it's tragic.