This has to be one of the better rants for keeping the BBC licence fee.
Broken TV starts off with a defence of BBC4 but by the end is just defending the BBC as a whole. And deservedly so.
We’ve long held the (possibly misguided) notion that BBC Four is the very last outpost of British television where the right people can happily be given a budget and a timeslot, and be told “go off and make something” without being followed by a swarm of middle-managers who prod the talent with sticks while hissing “can we skew younger?”, “can we get Mickey Flanagan in here somewhere, I owe his agent a favour”, or “this play about Shakespeare is all very worthy, but I don’t like Shakespeare. Can it all be about him being shit?” It’s the BBC of the Radiophonic Workshop, of a thirteen-part series being made because of something Barry Took said in the BBC bar, of half-hour sitcoms lasting for thirty-four minutes because that’s how long it needs to be – or as close as it can be in the era of credit-squeezing and logo guidelines.
In short, if BBC Four were a person, it’d be Alessandro Del Piero taking part in an under-12s football match, and it’s time for him to have his bootlaces tied together to give everyone else a chance.
So, what are the alternatives to clipping BBC Four’s wings? People on Twitter seem to have come up with a few ideas, though they don’t really hold up to much scrutiny.
“JUST CLOSE BBC THREE INSTEAD! I DON’T LIKE IT, SO I’M HAPPY FOR IT TO CLOSE.”
A popular opinion, but one we’d have to disagree with. Yes, it’s full of shows called JAMES CORDEN’S WELL GOOD FUCK OFF I’M GINGER AND WAHEY LADS SHAGGING EH SHOW or whatever, and despite making huge amounts of original content most people only watch EastEnders repeats and Family Guy, but there is an audience for it.
One of the reasons we stopped liking Harry Hill quite as much is down to a recent interview on Five Live, he was asked why TV Burp had stopped poking fun at BBC Three’s Freaky Eaters. His reply was along the lines of “it’s awful, that’s why. And I’m paying for it!” Well, sorry to break this to you Harry. The people who watch BBC Three pay their licence fee, too. They’re paying for the things they like, you’re paying for the things you like. Oddly, considering “young people are always moaning, they don’t know how lucky they are!”, we never really hear fans of Spendaholics complaining about how their licence fee pays for coverage of The Chelsea Flower Show or Countryfile, but when the Beeb sent a team off the Glasto to capture around sixty hours of entertainment for less than the price of two hours drama, it’s as if the ghost of Sir Hugh Greene is sneaking into the houses of Daily Mail readers and rifling through their handbags.
And on it goes. It also contains a method for watching TV without a licence, for all those whingy, whiney fuckers. Well worth a read.
Right, film studios, distribution houses, or whoever the fuck puts DVDs together. Sort it fucking out, you cunts.
When I put a DVD in the machine I do not want to have to sit through upto quarter of and hour of shit just to get to the fucking film. I’ve bought the film, paid good fucking money for it, supported your overblown, whiney fucking company instead of those terrorist supporting, drug dealing, baby-eating pirates so LET ME SEE THE FUCKING FILM.
OK, you got the splash screen of Universals’ Earth, Disneys’ Cinderella castle or Paramounts mountain and (flying?) horse, which I’ll let you have, but then you get a fuck load of notices, which I can’t skip. What the fuck is wrong with you fuckers?
The Copyright Notice
I know it’s illegal to copy the fucking thing. I know it’s A Bad Thing to share the chuffing film over the internet. I FUCKING KNOW. I don’t need to be told everyfucking time I play the fucking movie. if I was going to do any of those things, is displaying a fucking notice really going to change my mind? No it’s not,so Fuck. Right. Off.
The Anti-Piracy Promo Vid
The same goes for this ‘funky’, ‘edgie’, ‘down-with-the-kids’ video that is supposed to make you realise that pirated DVDs pay the IRA or Al-Quada or make drug dealers money so they can buy drugs to sell to your children. Well, it too can fuck the fuck off. It’s camera work induced motion sickeness, the music might be ok of it was longer and had the chance to actuall be a porper tune, and your bolloxed of your face on ketamine, and tells people who already know you (usually) get shit quality films from pirated stuff that you (usually) get shit quality films on pirated stuff.
The Commentary Disclaimer
What the cunting fuck is the point of that Commentary Disclaimer? Whatever the director/actors/teaboy say on the disc is obviously not the film companies official line, otherwise they would have an Official Spokesman on there saying it. There is not going to be anything contentious in their commentary because the film companies lawyers have ok’d it before the DVD was released. If it must be there, LET ME FUCKING SKIP IT, you fuckers.
Movie Trailers
What is the point in putting trailer fo other films on a DVD? the only films that get put on there are either other high profile movies that i) I already know about and are going to buy or ignore the existence of or ii) unheard-of shit films that the film house need to shift more copies of that. I buy a DVD to wathc the main feature over and over again over the years. Five years down the line I still don’t want to be told that a shit film is great and I should buy, when after five years it will still be a shit film and I probably couldn’t buy it even if I did want to. At least the trailers are usually skippable but sometimes, and I’m looking at you Thomas and the Magic Railway, they’re not and it is a fucking ballache having to press a button on the remote an extra six or seven times to get past them.
Animated Menus
Yeah, yeah. Very nice. They were a thing of wonder when DVDs first appeared. ‘Ooh, look at that. You don’t get that with VHS.’ No, you didn’t. Unless you pressed pause/stop the video player just got the fuck on with it. I see the need for a menu, what with all the options like subtitles, but when I select an option just fucking do it. Don’t fuck about with swirling graphics and morphing. Get. On. With. It.
A special mention for Disney Fast-Play
Disney Fast-Play: Fuck. Off. Go on, get the fuck out. Disney Fast-Play is a big fucking lie. What do you think should happen when the Fast-Play feature appears? You get the choice of Main Menu or Fast play. Main Menu takes you where you expect, but the words ‘Fast-play’ must mean that the film will start even quicker. Yahoo! Excellent idea Disney. Cut the shit and get to the film. But no. Fast-Play does exactly the opposite. It plays tall the fucking adverts and trailers and then I don’t know because I don’t sit through the fucking thing.
So even if you don’t get fooled into watching the trailers, it still takes longer to get to the fucking main menu than non-Disney DVDs because there is and extra menu in the fucking way. Well done Disney. I hope you’re fucking proud of yourself.
I feel better for that. Happy New Year, dear reader.
If you don’t want to support the England team, don’t. It doesn’t fucking matter. It really doesn’t.
The trouble with football (collapsing a whole long list into a handful of bugbears) is that its mindset bears an uncanny resemblance to the belief in “my country/party right or wrong”. It appears designed to programme the collective brain out of thinking and nuance, making those same synaptic connections that can only deal with black and white, binary three-minute hate. Us (good) and them (bad).
And what’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with enjoying something that is adversarial, is black and white and in the end is inconsequential?
Coming out of the Second World War, which devastated huge swathes of the globe, we valued our intellectuals and artists for helping to make the world a better place.
Nowadays, changing social conditions means social engineering, militarising society and the creation a nation of gladiators. From Sky to Skynet, turning you into a combat machine. Prepare to be assimilated.
What? How are we being turned into a ‘combat machine’? We have the most restrictive gun laws in the world. The army, even though actually deployed overseas in armed combat, is not exactly enjoying a surge in popularity and the fledgling gladiators are all stabbing themselves over fags, cheap cider and mobile phones. Even if I believed the last to be true I still wouldn’t think our society was being prepped for war.
It’s like living in Spartacus: Blood and Sand. Existence reduced to sex and death as we close ourselves down. All hail the sacred ground where you mash the opposition into the dirt, whether on the field, in the ring or at the dispatch box.
I can see the metaphor with Sparticus and it works well, but then it falls… *nods off*
Huh? Wha…? *ahem* Sorry, where was I?
Do I really want to identify with massively overpaid narcissists and their big-buck masters?
Well if you don’t want to, don’t. The overpaid narcissists don’t give a shit. And neither do I really. I enjoy the games, usually, but don’t feel I have to ‘identify’ with any of the people involved. Why should I? What would I be doing any different if I did identify with them? They’re overpaid, usually arrogant, more often than not womanising cunts. So fucking what?
I don’t pay any money to watch them play except when go to a game, and then if the ticket costs too much or there is a player that is a particular shister, I won’t go. Anything else in their personal life is their business.
How does victory for one set of businessmen over another set improve my life?
It doesn’t. Do you make all you decisions like this? When you decide to who to support in athletics, do you decide which of their sponsors will improve your life?
I love the artistry of great footballers. Watching George Best run rings around his opponents like he was occupying a different time and space was a joy to behold. But the small local football team that was part of the community is a myth, destroyed when British soccer emulated the American sports system and became a money-spinning industry, making your passion something that could be bought and sold. It bears the same relationship to the beautiful game as porn does to sex. So your team can spend millions on a talent from Nowheresville, Abroad? Well done. That means you are the best because some oligarch had deep pockets
So watch the tournament for some great football. Have a moan about how the way TV money isn’t distributed in a way that gets down to the grass roots of the game. Have a moan about that, then. Oh, by the way, don’t get confused between the national and international games. You cannot buy any player to play in your national team. To whinge about the way the money men have gone into the national clubs and buy up the best players from around the world in a post about why you’re not supporting England in the World Cup belies a lack of knowledge that means you do not really understand football or how it really works beyond what makes the front pages of the press, rather than the back, and so should shut the fuck up.
I cheer England on in athletics because it isn’t about two sides crushing each other. It really is the best man or woman winning through skill and it is possible to appreciate the accomplishments of the winner even if they aren’t on your team. Same with British culture when we do something great in film or music.
So individual competitive sports are fine but not team sports. You can, believe it or not, support a team and not go in for all stuff about grinding them into the dirt. You can even appreciate when an opposing team have played brilliantly and outplayed your team, or you own team were lucky to win. You would be amazed at the amount of England games where I haven’t called the opposition a bunch of foreign cunts of some sort or another.
I’ll probably succumb, though, and watch the bloody thing out of curiosity and an indulgence of my own pack instincts…
The pack instinct doesn’t mean you have to behave like a wanker, though. If you’re on a demo and someone chucked something through a window would you join in with it? No. So you don’t need to with the World Cup. Enjoy the football that’s on display. If you don’t want to support your home team, don’t.
After all, despite being told the contrary many times before, it is just a game.
James Corden, Dizzee Rascal and Simon Cowell obviously don’t. Why else would they include the chant…
Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough
in a football song?
What does that line bring to mind? It brings to mind some meathead challenging you a fight. Didn’t they even think to change the line to ‘think you’re good enough’
The song, as far as I can work out, is about, actually I have no idea what it’s about except for the chorus of ‘shout, shout, let it all out’, and how that fits with the rest of the ditti, I’m clueless.
It’s one thing for this type of confrontational chant to be sung on the terraces (are there still terraces?) but to have put it out in a song is, I want to say irresponsible, but that doesn’t quite do it. The football institutions, the FA, clubs etc, have spent decades and an enormous amount of effort into getting the violence out of the game and the last thing they need is for the validation of a chant like that.
Although I have gone to a few games I’m not really a football fan, so I might be missing something. Please, tell me I’m missing something.
James Corden has claimed that he turned down the chance to record a song for the World Cup.
The Sun says that the comedian was approached to re-record New Order track ‘World In Motion’, but he said no because he is a big fan of the original.
“I thought, why do that? ‘World In Motion’ is the greatest song ever,” he said. “What next, re-record ‘Three Lions’? It’s pointless. Those things have to happen organically, to come out of a feeling.”
He added: “You can’t try and manufacture a chant for the terraces or a song that a whole nation will adopt”
How is anything to do with Simon Cowell ‘organic’? How can the song Cordons’ done with Dizzee Rascal come out of a feeling? You can’t understand what they’re singing about most of the song. The only bit that could be sang on the stands is the ‘shout’ chorus and having that sang at me from across the pitch would not impress at all.
Cordon is nearly right about not being able to manufacture a chant or song for the terraces. Some people can, he can’t.