The Outer Limits of Banality
I’ve made a conscious decision not to write about the recession because, firstly; Bock does it way better that I ever could and, secondly; It annoys me too much and I may become violent when I start talking about a government who are defending the fact that they’re still going to pay themselves hefty “experience-based” bonuses while they’re taking money out of the pockets of the old, the infirm and the poor. If you didn’t believe we were in a dictatorship when the old Cap’n told you before, you better believe we’re in one now. They go off on junkets that we’ve paid for while we sit at home hoping that we’re not randomly mowed down by a fucking scumbag who will never see jail. And what do they do to salve our fears? They stick that mustachioed fucking dipshit Willy O fucking Dea on Primetime to fucking stammer through an interview in which he states that the government has taken huge steps towards bringing in new legislation that will stop the violence. Will somebody tell that walking fucking embarrassment that we don’t believe him? HEY WILLY! YOU’RE A FUCKING LIAR!!
“We..we..we..we… well, nuh…nuh…nuh….nuh… now Ca… ca… cap’n…” SHUT THE FUCK UP, WILLY! What a fucking mincing little toerag. He should be on the dole. If there were justice in this country he would be on the dole instead of lying to us about how he tried to prevent thousands of honest workers ending up on the dole. You did nothing, Willy. You’re a lying piece of shit whose only endearing trait is that you look like Groucho Marx. Resign and go into hiding so we no longer have to listen to your fucking repugnant, weasely voice nor look at your fucking squirming, banal and moronic fucking visage. FUCK OFF, WILLY!
There. Y’see, I told you what would happen and that’s just me explaining why I won’t talk about politics. Fuck me, I’m one angry pirate. The idea of this rant was actually to have another go at Irish TV in general, so here it goes.
I’ll get to Pat Kenny in a minute but first I want to talk - if what I’m about to do qualifies as such - about the TV Now Awards. The TV Now awards, sponsored by Walkers Sensations - that’s not a company selling vibrating running shorts or anything, it’s a potato-based snack - were shown on TV3 - Ireland’s answer to a self-administered lobotomy - on Sunday night. The blurb attached to this show tells us that this is a “glittering, star-studded ceremony, celebrating the best of Ireland’s Television Presenters and shows.” In fact, at the ad break, they had a little piece that said, “The T.V Now awards. A Combination of great taste and talent”. Now, if that isn’t the most blatant piece of false advertising ever, I don’t know what is. Great taste? Talent? I mean this is a fucking show that gives an award for best Weather Presenter! WHAT? Are you fucking serious? You mean to tell me that if I stand up like a fucking moron and tell people what they already fucking know, I get an award? The guy who actually received the award is one of the most annoying fucking pieces of two-legged excrement it has ever been my displeasure to accidentally stumble upon. Martin King, the condescending Dublin fucking twat. Fucking hell. Don’t give him an award; give his fucking P.45 for fuck’s sake. That would be entertaining. Have the little gimp all geared up to receive an award and tell him he’s sacked on national T.V instead. Now that, I would pay to fucking see.
Ok, firstly, if you have taste, great or general, you wouldn’t watch any of the shows or presenters listed for a TV Now award. Talent? I presume that’s just a joke. Where was the talent in the Mansion House on Sunday night?
Sorry, just as an aside here: Why do they call it the Mansion House? I mean, by definition, it translates as The Large Imposing House House. Fucking Dublin again.
Anyhoo, back to the crap. Best T.V presenter went to Ryan fucking Tubridy. For those of you who don’t know who this is, he is a guy who is trying his best to be David Letterman but set in the 50s. To call him talented would be like calling Pol Pot humane. Nominated in this category were Pat fucking Kenny, Gerry fucking Ryan, Alan - am I camping it up enough - Hughes, Martin King again and Mark - could I be more arrogant and condescending - Cagney. If you were to harness the energy created by their combined talent, you wouldn’t have enough to blow out a fucking match. For the rest of the world these are the who’s who of who?. For Ireland, they are our top celebrities. How fucking sad.
Ryan fucking Tubridy gave what he hoped was a humble speech but was in fact his little boyhood fantasy Oscar acceptance speech. It was cringe-worthy. He started off by thanking his daughters. See, I’m a nice family man. I’m mentioning my two daughters so that people won’t stay mad at me for refusing to take a 10% pay cut when everyone else in the country was being sent to the poor house. Ok, that’s pretty cynical but not far off the mark. Fine, I’ll allow him to mention his daughters. He then says that he’s shocked to win it. He said, and I’m not joking here, “I just thought that people get sick of you quite quickly and I’ve won a few of these.” You THINK people are sick of you? Everyone outside of Dublin fucking 4 IS sick of you, you fucking mincing fucking maggot. He then says that he’s paid really well for enjoying himself and it’s such an honour. Fuck off Ryan, you complained about taking a 10% cut and you’re paid around 99.999% more than you deserve to be paid. FUCK OFF!!
To add insult to injury, Fair City won best soap. I don’t watch soap operas but, for those of you who do and have never heard of Fair City, let me give you a quick description. It is based in Dublin and is played by a cast who can’t act. Quicker description: it’s the worst television you will ever see.
I know you’re going to say, “But why did you watch it if you hate it so much?”
That’s a valid point. I actually only happened upon the Ryan fucking Tubridy bit while I was channel surfing and I watched it so that I could give out about him again. I don’t need a reason. This guy should not be working in television.
Here’s what we need to do. Sack everyone currently involved in programming for both RTE and TV3 and start all over again with people who won’t devote most of their creative energy into programmes for kids or middle-aged housewives. I also watch the Late Late Show the other night - I am truly a masochist - and he had these really fucking annoying two Australian women on who had written a book of recipes that only take a maximum of four ingredients. Australians are annoying at the best of times with their interrogative inflections but these two were off the fucking chart. Rachel and Kym. “Weah bist moyts? And we rowt this book?” STOP ASKING THE QUESTION, YOU FUCKING DITHERING FUCKING TWATS!
Fuck it, I’ve got to stop now.
