And the winner is…

by Rick Johansen

‘And now on ITV, for two-and-a-fucking-half hours, it’s time for the 2020 National Television Awards, introduced by David Walliams’. Christ, no thanks. Just imagine it.

I realise that I am probably the only person in the land who will not be watching this annual shit show. I have seen brief excerpts in the past and to my mind, it’s as exciting a prospect as watching the grass grow. I am not interested in what the public thinks is the best telly show. It’s almost certain I won’t have seen it and in all likelihood never heard of it either.

I am probably the only person in the land who does not get David Walliams shtick. I loathed the very idea of two middle class blokes taking the piss out of working class people in Little Britain and Walliams was 50% of the sneerers. I do not find him funny or even mildly entertaining. I cannot understand why anyone of sound mind would stay in, rooted to the spot, and watch 150 minutes of luvvies talking luvvy talk to each other.

It’s fair to say that I don’t care much for award shows, which I find are largely self-congratulatory affairs. If the X Factor is voted Best Programme on Telly, is it necessarily the Best Programme On Telly, better say than Blue Planet 2? No. What it means is more people like Simon Cowell’s elderly ‘talent’ show for the hard of thinking than anything David Attenborough can come up with. It’s about opinions, even if those opinions appear to be completely unhinged.

Anyway, that’s enough of me complaining about a show you all love and when you are leaping in the air in celebration when the announcement is made for the Best TV Judge I might just be doing something else.

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