Happily, my Facebook and twitter timelines are ‘X Factor’ light.
There is the odd comment about which karaoke singer is better than another, but generally I am able to avoid finding out about people I have never heard of and never want to hear of.
I have heard of some of the ‘judges’.
Of course, I am familiar with Simon Cowell – how could I not be? – but I have little to no idea why he is famous (I am sure there is a good reason). There’s a Spice Girl (remember them?) and a pretty girl called Cheryl who can’t sing but judges those who can. And Louis Walsh who comes from Ireland and was something to do with Westlife which means he must be very good at making people buy shit.
I suppose I should not be too critical. I have ‘sung’ at karaoke evenings with varying levels of mediocrity, occasionally hitting the right note but never being spotted by a tone deaf impresario. Indeed, having precious little musical ability has persuaded me not to pursue a career down that particular entertainment road. I just wonder why the X Factor wannabes have not thought the same?
Having little talent has become a watch word for success in some areas of out national psyche. Katie Price, AKA the bare breasted Page Three Girl, has made a small fortune from being Katie Price, the famous author (!), model and purveyor of numerous types of consumer items. When she appeared in Bristol a couple of years ago, thousands turned up to see her though god knows why. Is it that some people see her success as being proof that you can be famous and get rich by not being any good at anything? Worryingly, it was mainly young girls who went to see her. Did they see her as some sort of role model? Jesus.
And there’s Celebrity Big Brother, where people I have never heard of get filmed doing boring mundane things. And people ‘win’ Big Brother for reasons I never quite understand.
I could not tell you the name of a single X Factor winner, or indeed one from Britain’s Got Talent, Big Brother and that irritating show hosted by those Geordie lads where D list celebrities eat grubs.
There is nothing good about someone being described as being ‘good at karaoke.’ We do not want to hear that. We want bad.
A few years ago, I was in Plymouth with a mate and there was a karaoke evening in a pub called The Bank. It was plodding away very boringly until a balding man in a smart suit staggered onto the stage. To all intents of purposes, he worked in the real bank next door, such was his appearance, but immediately he blasted into an hilarious version of Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer, practising huge convulsions as he belted the song out. My guess is that he might have had a few liveners before he took the mike but it was the best karaoke I ever saw.
Perhaps, if he got a chance on the X Factor he might have done really well in an alternative career but I fear he probably wouldn’t. I know you don’t need talent to make it in showbiz but this was more like a freakshow.
I do not understand the craving for reality shows because they aren’t reality at all. I don’t give a toss about Cowell, I certainly don’t want to watch Alan Sugar’s up-their-own-arses buffoons and I don’t want to read about it either.
Thanks for not sharing.
