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Showing posts with label trisha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trisha. Show all posts

Friday, 14 March 2008

I Blame Jeremy Kyle


I Blame Jeremy Kyle

Did you see “Pramface Babies” on Channel 4 last night? I was forced to miss Ashes To Ashes for this wonderful piece of ….well, it was hardly the epitome of investigative journalism or of drama-documentary; it was hardly the new “Cathy Come Home”.

“Pramface” is a derogatory term used to refer to underage or young mothers on council estates. See the Urban Dictionary for some more “colourful” explanations. I have seen many a Pramface mom in my time in the Civic Centre of Shameless (see earlier postings). They are hardly inspiring role models for their children. Body-pierced, bleached, tattooed, blue veined, teenage girls pushing and dragging multi-coloured and multi-parented (“parented” is a bit of a misnomer of course – I mean that the children have different sires). They are uneducated, out of work, and foul mouthed. The fathers are, well, elsewhere.

I read one article about the programme referring to the girls as being from a “working class” background. No they are not! “Working class” refers to a class that works. As my wise and wonderful better half, C, informed me, you are working class if your parent (for it could be either or both of mom and dad) came home from work dirty. Labourers, miners, factory workers and the like. But, there was little evidence of jobs amongst this little gaggle or their “partners”. Although, I notice that they were all able to afford state-of-the-art mobile phones.

At least we seem to have lost the “Jason and Kylie” generation. Instead, we seem to have developed a fashion for two-syllable names, spelt phonetically. The girls in question were named “Laura”, “Linzi”, “Kerrie” and “Krista” and their “partners” included “Andy” and “Terry”.

We never actually saw Terry. He was AWOL. Probably wetting the baby’s head with a two-litre bottle of cider and a spliff or a line or two somewhere. Or, maybe getting the baby’s name tattooed on his forehead. We did, however, get a brief insight into the caring nature of Terry with the introduction of the Christmas present that he had given to Laura – an American bulldog (nice) called “Gucci” (aspirational at least) who was happily nesting in the baby’s carry cot. Charming.

We did meet Linzi’s other half, Andy, who was described as being a “terrific dad”. Andy lives with his mom. Terrific. In fact, this was to be Linzi’s second child by Andy. Like the first it was “unexpected”. Unexpected? Well at least they didn’t use the term “accident” or “unplanned” but how on earth could it have been unexpected. Did they miss the pretty obvious lesson in biology of the first baby that they made! Indeed, I thought that it was not without a little irony that this programme was immediately followed by “Big Bang Theory”…..on so many levels.

What is our society coming to? I blame Jeremy Kyle. Judge Alan Berg once described The Jeremy Kyle Show as trash which existed to "titillate bored members of the public with nothing better to do". He went on to say "It seems to me that the purpose of this show is to effect a morbid and depressing display of dysfunctional people whose lives are in turmoil." and added that it was "human bear-baiting".

These kids seem to have nothing better to do than stay at home (provided for by the state); spend their benefit on drink, smokes, and drugs; and, shag. They aspire only to have their problems resolved in full public glare on Jeremy Kyle or Trisha; the deluded aspire to become famous on X Factor or Big Brother Uncut. Maybe we should consider shutting down daytime TV, limiting the payment of child benefit to the first two kids, and making parenting classes compulsory.

Rant over…..for now.

Thursday, 12 April 2007

The Times They Are A-Changin Part 3

The Times They Are A-Changin Part 3

I was working from home yesterday. I know what you’re thinking. But, normally when I say that I am working from home, I am doing exactly that. At home. Working. It is not a euphemism that I use for “skiving”. However, I must admit that yesterday I was far from stretched. This was due, in no small part, to the fact that I am “between jobs” and “looking for a new challenge”.

In any case, I was less than busy, and while I was waiting for my new iPOD to import the first 1590 tracks (only about a million to go!) from my ridiculously extensive CD collection, I allowed myself to be distracted by daytime TV. How depressing.

The morning news, on each of the main terrestrial channels, is clearly dumbed down and designed for viewers with the attention span of a goldfish with Alzheimers. Watch it for even half an hour and you will see the same stories repeated three or four times. This is presumably because it is aimed at people who are in a hurry. People rushing to get out of the house to get to work. Parents attempting to get the kids off to school.

But as soon as the news finishes, it starts. Daytime TV. Sponsored by Ambulance Chasers Inc., How To Sue Plc., Something For Nothing Money Lenders Ltd, and, Fast Food Is Good For You, Honest……It would seem that the TV schedulers have worked out that the great unwashed, the unemployed, the social scroungers, all get up around 9.15am. Or maybe, this is when their metabolism wakes them, craving more alcohol, or a quick fix.....

Harsh? Maybe. Maybe not. Just look at the programmes that are on and look at the people who are on them. It starts with the Jeremy Kyle Show. When that is finished you can turn over for a spot of Trisha. The Ricki Lake Show, Sally Jessy Raphael, Judge Judy, Wife Swap, Wife Swap USA, etc., etc. It is endless. They are back to back and repeated throughout the day on the freeview channels. But, worst/best of all are the homegrown shows of Trisha and Jeremy Kyle. Trailer trash TV British style.

While all of the nice retired people and "ladies who lunch" are watching nice middle-class programmes such as Good Morning, Plastic Surgery Makeover, Loose Women and Relocate To An Even Better Place In The Sun, the great unwashed are learning their life lessons from Jeremy Kyle and Trisha. Every show is the same. Some emaciated, alcoholic, stoned, shaven-haired waster in a shell suit with a pierced eyebrow is trying to justify why he is beating his current pregnant-again girlfriend. The girlfriend is obese and foul-mouthed and is beating him back. There is always a twist like they are actually brother and sister or something. Or, the bloke is a woman and therefore adamant that the child cannot be his/hers. Drug tests, boot camps and lie detectors are in abundance.

These are people who have no jobs. Unemployable. People who choose not to work. Why should they? They “earn” far more from benefits than they ever could in paid employment. They sit on their arses all day and they spend their evenings apparently copulating with friends, family, and people they have met in chat rooms or on jail visits. They leave a trail of unwanted and unpaid-for kids. All their money goes on booze, drugs, and plasma screen TVs. They care for themselves and no-one else.

No wonder the findings of the Office for National Statistics, out yesterday, were so depressing. A quarter of children in Britain now live with just one parent; typically single mothers. And, they don’t know when to stop. They are at it like rabbits. The number of lone mums bringing up three or more children has trebled since the 1970s. “Bringing up”?

We now have the lowest number of marriages since records began and two in three marriages end in divorce. Society is falling apart. We don’t have so much of a self-help culture as a help yourself to someone else's one. A "sod you" view of the world. A world without a sense of place; of belonging; of community. Only 29% of British people now believe that “most people are trustworthy”. In the last 20 years there has been a five-fold increase in complaints about neighbours.

Jeremy Kyle has got a job for life!

Next time I’m at home all day and less than industrious I think I’ll listen to Radio 4, or, Radio 5…………..