Posts Tagged ‘Current Affairs’

The Friday Question: Watch Your Mouth!

February 6, 2009

Image courtesy of BPPerry

TV history is littered with the problematic words of presenters and pundits who have said the wrong thing at the wrong time. The case of Carol Thatcher is only peculiar in that it was said off-mic, where you’d assume a smack on the wrist might’ve been the usual response.

It’s the on-mic blurtles we’re talking about today. Ron Atkinson is the recent king of idiotic babble, with his assertion that Marcel Desailly was a ‘f*cking l*zy n*gger’, ruining his career as a talking head with three simple words last decade.

Recently, and flipping the race coin, Jesse Jackson came against a hell of a lot of stick across the pond when he said this presuming he was of air. ‘Cut his nuts off’ indeed!

Even more race-based idiocy arrived in the form of Jade Goody’s second Big Brother outing, this time as a ‘Celebrity’, when she had a mad moment (actually, loads of them) and referred to Bollywood Queen  Shilpa Shetty as ‘Shilpa Poppadom’.It wasn’t helped by her pals joining in as they made a series of slurs on the hygiene of a whole nation.

But we’re not restricted to race on this. Anyone who screwed up their career, or shamed themselves a bit is up for discussion. Think George Best or David Icke on Wogan.

Any more for any more?

Advertisements

Horizon: Cannabis: The Evil Weed?

February 4, 2009

skunk

Hooray! Wacky baccy!

But is it really so wacky? Or is it, in fact, the trigger that unleashes all kinds of fresh madness? Why do some folk have a toke and find they remain an average bloke? How come some dumb-dumbs fill a lung and turn into voice-hearing bums?

Horizon decided to seek answers, last night with their enquiry, Cannabis: The Evil Weed? They turned to that flaky, unreliable thing we call science to help them out.

I tuned into this expecting yet more anti-weed propaganda and was pleasantly surprised. After an informative opening in which we learned that cannabis first evolved in Kazakhstan, developing THC to protect against ultra-violet light, there was futher explanation of how the chemical make-up affects the brain which was more extensive than any documentary I’ve seen on the BBC on the topic before.

That’s not that impressive, however, when you consider that the only item on this subject I’ve seen the BBC handle before was Michael Buerk’s hilariously sensational treatment on 999 – where the treatment of bong-discovery was akin to the uncovering of a decomposing five-year old, in a gritty black and white reconstruction.

Credit to John Marsden, he constantly reiterated that the really serious side-effects were only present in a tiny minority of early-adopters, but all the same, the editorial decision to include the story of ‘John’ from Manchester was a mistake.

Completely incomparable to the sad story of one young lad who developed schizophrenia (which merited inclusion), this psychologically-addicted John character was pictured complaining about how he can’t get a girlfriend or a job because of his spliff-habit.

He said, at one point, that he’s smoking ten joints a day – but when the camera caught the sight of the flapping rizla-mess between his fingers, it was apparent that he can’t even roll a bloody bifta. Also, the fact that his flat was plush and his clothing quite smart in conjunction with the assertion that he’s supposedly frittering away at least a tenner on skunk a day, it made it impossible to believe that his case actually exists. And even if it did, all he needs is a good talking to. Weed’s not the problem – he is.

The ultimate irony of the show, which served to demonstrate that there’s far more to this plant than the press let on, is that cannabis houses an anti-psychotic which sits naturally alongside the THC – which balances the potential for psychosis. So if it was harvested properly, away from the black market, it could actually be used to treat those who went mad because of it. It’s enough to fog your head.

Anyway – it’s a sad day for me – I’m having to give up writing this blog. The skunk’s taken over my life and I’m selling my computer to get a bumper pack of Golden Virginia. I’ve pimped the missus out so I can get my grimy fingers on some hash and, by the time you’ve read this, I’ll be injecting green skunky serum into my eyes with John and his mate, Michael Phelps.

Goodbye, friends.

BBC Breakfast

October 16, 2008

BBC Breakfast is brilliant. I’ve tried Today on Radio 4 but the upper-middle class presenters (who all speak reeeeeeally sloooooowly) tend to make my early morning coma even worse than it already is.

I’ve no idea what’s on Channel 4 any more, since RI:SE was axed and the lovely Zora Suleman removed from our screens. The days of the Big Breakfast are long gone. GMTV is all soft-furnishings, cheesy grins and Ben Sheppard, so clearly it’s BBC1 all the way.

The set up is a big screen, a sofa, suits and presenters. Quite a sparse scene, so the presenters have to do all the work. Rather than come on like your childless Uncle and Auntie as they do over on GMTV, the BBC presenters look as knackered as you are. This results in them frequently fluffing their lines and wearing expressions that say ‘what the giddy fuckfuck am I doing out of bed at this ungodly hour?’.

Here’s a look at the ones I see in my window of viewing before I’m herded onto the cattle truck, with breakfast still dripping down my chin.

Sian Williams

Sian’s the most straightforward of the bunch. She’s a no bullshit presenter from the old school. Slick, professional and focused, she’s the adhesive that keeps this shambles running, and may God bless her for that.

Bill Turnbull

Bill’s apparently an amateur beekeeper, chicken-lover and fan of Wycombe Wanderers. This trio of outside interests clearly play on his mind when he’s called upon to make a link, as he becomes so bewildered by his autocue that he often umms and aahs over his actions like a confused old man. The inevitable shouting from production ringing in his ears is clearly too much for him to take and his face relaxes into a dazed sleepiness. He looks like he should be sitting in his pyjamas reading the headlines from a tabloid – like a Dad trying to wake up slowly as his wife witters on about shoes.

Declan Curry

Somehow Declan manages to look even more shattered than Billy Turnbull. His wry humour makes the economy seem fleetingly comprehensible, but then as soon as he’s gone, like a mirage, your understanding dissolves and you’re back to blaming the credit crunch on some American mortgage or something like that.

Chris Hollins

Chris is either on very strong uppers or is a child dressed up as a man. He should be intensely irritating, with his perpetually chipper attitude to sport and his sharp and cutting mockery of our hero Bill, but for some reason he gets away with it. He’s like the short kid at school who didn’t get bullied because he was a half-decent striker. You want to dislike him but you just can’t.

Susanna Reid

Last on our whistlestop tour of morning mutterers is the lovely Susanna Reid. Susanne stood in for Sian when she was on holiday. She’s like Sian but more distant. Her valium-eyes droop low and her slow, suttering speech patterns make you feel like your sitting with a Vicodin-drenched housewife somewhere in suburban Surrey with a hot water bottle. It’s a strange way to start the day when Susanna’s at the helm.

I’ve missed off the other business bloke who always strikes me as stern and sarcastic. I’ve also omitted the spaced out weathergirl who always stands, inexplicably, in the Blue Peter garden. Even when it’s pissing it down with rain. And I’ve missed off some others. Apologies to those not on the list. I’m sure you’ll consider packing it all in when you realise you’ve been left out.

God bless BBC Breakfast, God and the Queen.