“‘Ere, ‘ow they gonna fit me in the telly? It’s tiny?!”
There is a plague upon this land. Yes, a plague of the most vile, cretinous idiotic beings has taken its grip on the English speaking world like a vacuous hoard of zombies and their mission, it would seem, is to suck the collective brains of the nation clean of all taste, intellect and class.
These hideous zombies, these vacuums of human decency, are out there now, growing in number and threatening to dominate the world and what are we doing to stop them? Nothing. We (not me, obviously, I’m way too sensible) are actively encouraging them! Who are these odious creatures? They are the so-called stars of “reality dramas”. You know the ones; Jersey Shore, The Only Way Is Essex (and it’s various regional pastiches) and pretty much anything with miniature dog-botherer Paris Hilton in it.
Let’s leave aside the Cowell funded freak shows, or any of the others with some kind of goal/theme (baking, modelling, trying to bag a non-gay millionaire, eating a kangaroo’s testicle, eating a non-gay millionaire’s testicle) as these shows have, if not the need for a great deal of participant talent, at least some task or purpose to them. These “reality drama” shows, on the other hand, are basically a celebration of stupidity. The moron zombies, or moronbies, are merely there to “entertain” us with their so-called personalities, while gadding about the place, living their supposedly real lives, which are about as real (and interesting) as their eyelashes.
If you have been fortunate enough to avoid making visual contact with any of these televised atrocities, well done, but don’t worry, you can easily catch up with where my venom and scorn for these brain sapping cretins comes from. The formula for the shows is very easy to grasp and, unbeknownst to the moronbies, the “cast” is easily interchangeable and thoroughly disposable. Here’s all you need:
1. Take several youthful, exuberant imbeciles of both male and female gender, with just enough ego to think they know it all, combined with absolutely zero common sense or education, a shockingly abysmal grasp of the English language and enough deluded self-importance to willingly advertise these facts to the world.
2. If not already kitted out accordingly, ensure your moronbies are physically reinforced to withstand the most brutal of nuclear attacks; plastic breasts, plastic hair, plastic nails, plastic teeth etc. Also ensure their skin can withstand the blast, by tanning them to a deep shade of orange-brown known on the Dulux chart as “Melanoma Fantasy”. The females should be topped off with as much make-up as it takes to give them a face like a prolapsed clown’s vagina, the men just require hair that has been varnished securely into place so a single strand isn’t displaced by the after-shock.
3. Introduce subtle-as-rampant-bulls-fornicating-in-a-china-shop contrived plot scenarios and dialogue guidelines (not scripts, definitely not scripts – they wouldn’t be “real”) for the cast of moronbies to ham their way through, and don’t forget to advise them that those who form “romantic” trysts will double their chances of getting a 3-page deal with a trashy magazine.
4. A hot tub
5. A vajazzle
Now you know the right ingredients for a hit “reality drama”, you can set about spreading this moronbie plague using the one method guaranteed to pervade almost every corner of the inhabited globe in the quickest, most sneaky manner – using the media. Not only do you have your own televised abomination, you have fame hungry moronbies walking the earth, courting the paparazzi and willingly getting their drunken gusset shots into the public eye in any way they can. It’s almost too easy!
Unless you live in a cave, there is no escape from this virus-like invasion. Even if you manage not to look directly at them, it’s highly likely that they will have infected the brains of those around you with their inarticulate catch phrases and desire for a Melanoma Fantasy glow, and this is my problem with the moronbie invasion.
You could argue that these dim-witted brain sappers are just young people, doing what all young people do while they grow up (going out partying, saying ridiculously silly things and wearing atrocious outfits) and that they are entertaining and a cracking little diversion. Well, I have no other way to say it than this: You have clearly been infected and I must take a shovel to your head. Yes, they are young people, just doing what young people do – if a television producer and a camera crew were there to encourage every poorly made decision, that is!
They are just young people with little wisdom or taste who have been given a relatively vast sum of money and very little guidance – a dangerous thing indeed. Just think what would happen if you gave a monkey a platinum card. It wouldn’t go and buy itself a sustainable banana plantation, no, it would eat the card and then throw the platinum poo at the other monkeys. Give a clueless 19 year old a wad of cash and what will they spend it on? Education? Financial investments? Charity? No! They’ll get fake tits and a sports car, both of which will end up crashed on the front pages of a tabloid rag.
All the vapid comments and chatter that the moronbies vomit into the media would be best kept under embarrassed lock and key, but we (not me, we already know I’m far too sensible) the baying public, enjoy mocking these twits and so they are encouraged to keep spewing monosyllabic, mispronounced mewlings into the published ether and we (again, not me), lap it up. Just like when the kid at school stuck marbles up his nose, someone needs to say “Stop laughing, you’ll only encourage it”. The fact people keep tuning in to hear an oily idiot say “Oh shuuuut uuuuup!” over and over, only reinforces to the mahogany hued nincompoop that what they have said was worth hearing and should be continued. It wasn’t and it shouldn’t.
These poorly-advised, over-paid, under-dressed cretins are not just a danger to themselves, they are not just filling the minds of the nation with terrible catch phrases and dull water cooler conversations, they are conveying to other silly 19 year olds that the key to becoming a success and nationally recognised as a celebrity and a talent is not to get educated and to work hard, but to broadcast the shallow existence you spend grooming your eyebrows and spilling WKD Blue outside night clubs, mid-“romantic” tryst, while ensuring that nothing of any worth or value falls out of your mouth (unless it’s your co-star – worth and value financial only). Get a boob job and flash your sparkly lady garden and BOOM, you’ve got a viable career with a book deal, fashion range, fragrance line and the option to add DJ/TV presenter to your CV, all before the age of 21!
I fear we may be out of luck, the moronbie apocalypse is upon us and it’s too late to equip everyone with shovels, shot guns and concrete bunkers lined with classic literature. It’s definitely too late for the next set of innocently exuberant imbeciles, currently lining up to enter the next round of reality dramas in search of a “career”, and I fear it may even be too late for the whole of humanity. Why do I say this with such over-dramatic conviction? Well, what kind of world awards The Only Way Is Essex a sodding BAFTA!
Don’t say I didn’t warn you people, the moronbie apocalypse is nigh. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy stocking PFPT Towers with the complete works of Shakespeare, a shovel and a spray tan gun filled with bleach.
Pretty Feet, Pop Toe 