Stig Of The Dump
“Ya life is monitored massively on CCTV, yo/And these kids think Big Brother’s just a TV show…”

I was going to say for those of you who don’t know Big Brother 10 has started, but let’s face it, unfortunately, whether you wanted to or not, you already do. I could start my reasons for hating Big Brother with clichéd jokes about people sitting on their sofa in their house doing nothing while watching people in a house on a sofa doing nothing, but that doesn’t hugely bother me – if you want to have your brain slowly churned into shit that’s on you.

My issue isn’t even with the fact that it envelopes our TV like a fucking rash so everywhere you turn you end up face-to-face with the soul-sapping shit, especially when I could just turn over and watch re-runs of Britain’s full of deluded mentalists who think being desperate, deluded and retarded is Talent or American, Let’s See How Many Characterless Singers We Can Exploit For Their Family Losses In The Hope That We Find A Mass Marketable Idol; or if they’re not on there’s always I Used To Be A Celebrity, Get Me Back On TV, plus I generally try to avoid watching the idiot box as best I can. (Holla at Come Dine With Me though!)

And my problem isn’t even that our nation’s favourite racist, fear-mongering comic-book tabloids are filled with scandal surrounding the nobodies in the house. No, my problem is that most of the nation is swept up in a tide of brainless shit and rather than discuss important issues, or indeed unimportant but interesting shit, it instead ends up spewing bollocks about the single biggest advocate of the cancerous fame junkie culture we live in, where vacuous, talentless, soulless fuck-nuts devoid of personality make up for their lack of achievements in life by fighting for attention as their only goal is to be famous for the sake of being famous.

If fame is a bi-product of talent – like it is for singers, footballers, actors, writers and whatnot – it’s understandable. However, if it’s your only goal in life then I thoroughly hope you go out the same way Jade Goody did. I recently saw Nicky Grahame of BB9 fame at Vibe Bar on Brick Lane and just knowing the sour-faced, child-bodied, growth-on-humanity was still alive ruined my whole day.

If simply considering applying for the programme didn’t fill me with such shame, I would try and enter the house just to bludgeon every one of my housemates to death with their own hollow personalities. Failing that, a claw hammer would do…

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