The last piece I wrote for the Guardian is in today and I am thrilled to see it leading the section. I am equally delighted by the return of Charlie Brooker in G2. He has been away for the last few weeks and so I have lived a life of misery. If his columns are anything to go by, so has he.
His page-long rant about the new series of the Apprentice confirms my new conviction that it is officially OK to talk about my guilty pleasure.
Every single paper I read last Thursday contained a lengthy post-mortem on the first agonising hour of the genius series and I hope they will continue to do so. While shows like Big Brother ceased to contain any social commentary merit when they became lengthy audtion tapes for Simon Fuller, the Apprentice is a fascinating insight into the mind of the seriously deluded. Titbits such as "The spoken word is my tool" and "I am the best salesperson in Europe" have already been touted as examples of the candidates egomania but there was also comedy gold when Raef defended himself for labelling the fish wrong. For every mistake I make from now on I will say "At least I didn't label a shark a hamster" and the greatest wits in Christendom will be stumped for a response.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment