Britain's Got More Talent Than This Would Have You Believe!
All right, I know this has been covered to some degree in one of the other threads but having watched Saturday's latest vomit-fest I was moved to vent my spleen.
It's true there are some genuinely gifted individuals on parade here, but it's the presentation I can't get over; the 'seen it all before' contrived 'arguments' between Simon Cowell and his latest hapless, gobby exhibit (copyright Pop Idol 2002); the so-bad-they're-bad morons who are clearly sent on stage as Cowell-fodder and to pad out the future DVD release; the very notion that anyone other than Cowell himself is ever going to make a fortune out of this charade.
And every week, with 10 minutes to go, they bring out the cute, awkward kid whose great uncle is dying of chin cancer or whatever, and make the precocious goon sing some turd from the Westlife back-catalogue. Amanda Holden blubs, Piers Morgan says nothing of note and Cowell grins like the Child Catcher while he promises the same golden future he bestowed upon Steve Brookstein, Leon Jackson and, um, can't remember. If only, just once, after all the build up and the heart-wrenching back-story, the minor in question would open their gob and honk like a goose. Lord knows, I'd laugh like an idiot.