A Big Ball of Hate [14-11-08]

After having watched no more than forty minutes of this year's Children In Need, it became apparent to me that the show is everything I hate rolled up into one giant ball of televisual garbage, sprinkled with Wogan-flavoured word-shit with just a dash of total and utter misery.

I have nothing at all against the charity - I don't "give generously" to it, because there are other charities out there which require more of my attention, less well-advertised charities which deal with far more important things. Which is not to say that I don't think helping children worldwide is worthwhile, but if I get dragged into this discussion again I will do something I may one day regret.

From the moment I started watching, when they rolled out a half-hour long segment devoted to the vapid dross-fest that is Strictly Come Dancing, I knew it would be the same as it is every year. The first face I saw was that of Fearne Cotton, and I instinctively asked myself "why?" Not "why did they get Fearne Cotton to host this?", but just "why?" as in "why Fearne Cotton?" What is the point of her? She seems to pop up presenting everything, but with no real presenting talent. A moment of watching her pretend to speak to Bruce Forsyth on the phone also made me realise that whoever writes the stuff she is supposed to say is an idiot and should be fired. From a cannon.

Get you with your pull back and reveal.

Anyway, the one positive thing I got from it was the preview of the Doctor Who Christmas Special, which seems to be almost entirely built around provoking rumour - "The Next Doctor"? Announced shortly before David Tennant announces the fact that he is leaving the show? We all know that David Morrissey will simply be playing an impostor, or a Doctor from a parallel universe, or something of the sort, and will not be taking over from David Tennant. In fact, I'm going to go out on a limb and predict that David Morrissey's character, whoever he may be, will die in the Christmas episode.

Let's see if I'm still writing this blog after it's been shown...

Unfortunately, the one positive part of the evening was dismally short, at a mere two minutes long. Then we were "treated" to a performance by Leon Jackson, who I'm told was the winner of one of the X Factors.

Now, I never thought I'd find myself getting angry about this, but I don't know how there is someone like Leon Jackson, or Leona Lewis is another good example, who is so prominent in the press, and yet I know nothing about them. I didn't even know what Leon Jackson looked like until last night (turns out he's pasty, scrawny and buck-toothed - is that considered attractive nowadays? Who knows. I thought the point of these manufactured popstars - Girls Aloud, I'm looking at you - was that they were pretty to look at, but not much else. If they're ugly and can't sing or dance or do something in an organ-grinding monkey fashion, what is the point?), but I still know nothing about who or what he is.

I was looking forward to the episode of QI specially broadcast for Chiddlers In Need, which thankfully wasn't cut as short as the Doctor Who preview, but once again CIN ruined it for me. In place of one of the comedians usually placed on the panel, Terry Wogan took a seat, and began to take the whole thing rather too seriously. Stephen Fry did well to seem as though he was interested in what the Irish dinosaur had to say, but it felt rather limp to me. David Mitchell's rants were as entertaining as always, though.

All in all, a bit of a damp squib of a charity telethon.