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Wednesday, 14 March 2012

Wrong ones
What the frig is it with these talking heads that seem to litter every show about popular culture? Like it's not bad enough that Channel Four thinks that great telly is strung together with 100 'best of' clips, it then has to intersperse these individual segments of weepy films/ 70s adverts/ decommissioned sitcoms with the likes of Lucy fucking Porter babbling about shit all.
Just who is Lucy Porter anyway? And does she actually exist outside of her role as a professional talking head? Jesus, she could form an opinion on the spawning of a tag nut if some production company or other promised her a spot on prime time TV.
And that's the thing with these talking heads isn't it? Either you've never frigging heard of them or they're wallowing in their z-list status as the opening acts at supermarket launches. Worse, someone, somewhere thinks that it's OK for these creatures to spew their underwhelming opinions at the public over and over and over again in the name of entertainment. Entertainment! Like I give a shit about Kevin Bridges' feelings towards the Spice Girls, Nicki Chapman's adoration of the Smash adverts or Jeff Brazier's take-it-or-leave-it attitude towards Dad's Army.
Problem is that these shows need lots of talking heads and, if your idea of good quality TV involves the budget-free dredging of telly archives, then you've not got the money to pay 'em. So what are you lumped with? No, not George Clooney leading a discourse on modern cinema or an Archbish hosting a debate on the role of religion in society. Instead you've got some one hit wonder from the 80s fawning over a fucking Cointreau advert.
So spare me, will you? Unless you have a decent opinion to offer or a fresh insight into some moral dilemma keep it shut. And that includes you Lucy Porter. Leave the inane opinion-making to people like me, OK?

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