I switched on the electric television yesterday to watch a programme that I follow regularly called “Who do you think you are?” The format remains the same. Some ‘famous’ (i.e. you stand a 38% chance of having heard of them before) twassock is invited to have genealogists research their family history while they make inane comments about it. I have written about this before – there was a splendid episode with Boris thinking that King George was English, and some dull tart called Jodi Summat who got a Ph.D. in senselessness.
Last night was the turn of someone called Davina McCall. I had heard of her and recognised her face, she must have been on one of the comedy panel shows that it is my habit to view, I guess, but I had no idea what she has done to make herself famous. After watching the programme, I gathered that she has something to do with the televisual banquet called “Big Brother”. Had I not learned this, I would have assumed that she had attained stardom by winning a competition to find the country’s leading gormless twat. I don’t know much about “Big Brother”, I have never watched it, and never will, voluntarily, but I believe that the premise is that you lock a bunch of arseholes in a house for a few weeks and film them. If the participants are as alluring as Ms McCall, I suggest that you slightly improve the format by taking away the filming part, and extend the duration by a few years.
At this point, I should declare an interest, one which has maybe tainted my objectivity. I have, as you may remember, been researching my family history for some time. It is a very time consuming pastime, and not without cost. I would love the BBC to spend a fraction of the amount they spend on transporting morons such as McCall around the world so that they can make fatuous comments to camera, and be seen making erudite statements such as “Hello” to the drones who have had to do the hard work of research, on helping me unblock the dead-ends I have encountered in my research.
There is a great lesson to be learned from all of this. If you watch this programme, you will become aware that it is very important to be circumspect about your choice of mate. Lack of care in this area may lead you to becoming the great-grandparent of some empty-headed dollop of vacuity such as Davina McCall.
20 comments:
The answer, Vicus, is to become what the media call 'a personality'. Then the BBC will do all your family tree research for you.
she has very nice hair; that's all I know about her. . . I wonder who she inherited it from?
I hope that helps
sorry, what was the question?
(and, now I come to think about it, aren't we all descended from vegetation. . . or, at the very least, it's a common ancestor, isn't it? perhaps I need to review my Linnean studies a little)
If Dave called his comment in from a Macdonalds it could have been a "Dave in a Mc Call".
Makes you think.
Nice Hair though.
Oh go on, I know you've applied to be in the Big Brother house next year.
Even I will be watching that.
As you know, I have been very careful with my choice of mate. Had I been less attentive you, could well have been featuring in the episode that I will doubtless star in once I become famous.
I don't know why that comma appeared there, I can't remember typing it.
WV=fartin. That was the onion and poppy seed bread I had for lunch.
Family Tree?
I'm surprised you're bothered. Who cares about dusty ancestors?
'You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars.'
We stopped watching it after the Jeremy Clarkson one a few series ago. I nearly spontaneously combusted with anger.
The only thing I miss is when they put on the white gloves and talk in hushed tones.
Are you still trying to figure out where you inherited the prehensile
tail?
I need a television. I am missing too much.
I really think you SHOULD apply to be in the Big Brother house. I might even start watching it again...
PS: I'm back, after a fashion (www.markgamon.wordpress.com). Just as I dropped off your blogroll too. You'll be delighted to know yours is the only URL I could remember so you were th first to appear on mine...
Hmmm. It turns out I can't remember my blogger password. Still, you can probably figure out who anonymous is...
...or I could just remember how to do this instead. Sorry to clutter up your comments column with drivel...
Dave, I have managed to exist in this world for many years with no personality, and am content to continue thus.
ILTV. I take it that the "she" to whom you allude is Ms McCall rather than Dave.
And yes, we are all descendants of vegetation. In your case, something sweet such as a mango, in my case, karela. In Ms McCall's case, a turnip.
Rog. Yes, Dave does have nice hair. But I don't care.
Rol. I wouldn't watch it even if I was in it.
Richard. I am entirely devoid of famous relations. I have someone called Fanny Willey in the tree, which is close to notoriety as I wish to be.
Kaz. I suppose you have a point. Some of them are even older than you.
Geoff. That is gratifying. I am always wary of watching things of which you might approve. Davina failed to put on gloves while perusing ancient newspapers, smearing her sweaty digits all over them.
Broomhilda. Trying to figure out where I left it. Is it at your house?
DG - California is so backward, isn't it?
HE'S BACK! HE'S BACK! IT'S THE SAME ONE!
I'm descended from a Huguenot. Is that a vegetable?
Here in Norfolk a turnip is less a vegetable, and more something which helps to keep the average IQ up.
Ooooh. Thinking back to your heading, (and ignoring the Book of Genesis for the moment) didn't we all descend from trees, many years ago, on the African plains?
Thanks to the Interwebs, soon every single f*cking person on the entire planet will become a celebrity and there shall be much rejoicing!
We shall all wallow in our awesomeness and celebrate our glorious ubiquity just before a virus (mercifully) ends our planetary reign and the Insects or Mudskippers arise.
Nature abhors a vacuum but not half as much as She abhors us!
Amen.
BRAVO!! You summarized with comPLETE erudition. You would never make it in the "Big Brother" house. NO ONE speaks your language.
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