I can't stand Kilroy Silk. Every morning this opinionated, ill-mannered ex-politician swaggers through his audience of Cockney council-estaters setting one extremist against another and then acting shocked when it all gets out of hand. This isn't political or sociological debate. They never have anyone with a moderate point of view on the programme. It's just cheap, nasty television and a disgusting waste of the licence fee...not unlike hiring Rutger Hower...or however that's spelt...to constantly advertise the BBC's piss-poor programmes. Perhaps if the BBC spent as much money and effort on the production values in their prime-time slots rather than on the fifteen minutes of self-congratulatory adverts they slide in at every available opportunity then we might get somewhere.

Apparently, on the anniversary of September the Eleventh, every television station in Britain sent three people over to cover the memorial service in New York. The crews consisted of a soundman, a cameraman and a presenter. Fair enough...I suppose...if they considered it to be that important.
Except...the BBC sent 73 people over to New York for the occasion. How the hell can they justify this to the licence payer...especially seeing as their coverage was worse than any of the other channels, as per bloody usual?

Unfortunately, on a regular basis, morning telly on ITV is even worse. When it comes to insulting, dumbed-down television then Trisha has to take the biscuit. This programme is really, really moronic and shit. It seems to consist of...yet again...Cockney council estaters. Only this time they're not trying to discuss social issues in their limited, extremist, Murdoch inspired way. They're sitting on a stage (Ricky Lake style) talking about how their boyfriends/girlfriends have slept with other women. And this is entertainment/informative television how? This is just shit! Unintelligent shit presented by an unintelligent woman, starring unintelligent people who shag other unintelligent people and it's all made by cynical, greedy producers who haven't been given the budget to afford Ulrika Johnson.

And then there are the various 'Breakfast' programmes that beg the question, "What's happened to proper news?" What's happened to an intelligent alternative from those gibbering wankers on Channel 4's RISE programme...risible perhaps...four trendy twats who think they're so clever and witty when they're actually a bunch of total, unknowledgable tossers? Breakfast telly these days consists of two tarted-up Tory voters sitting on a sofa talking bollocks. "Do you think it's right that Paul Burrell should discuss the Spencers openly in this manner?" "No...I think that the Spencers should be allowed their privacy." "And what about the Queen? Do you think she's fared well out of this?" "Well the Queen is a mother figure to the country and has shown a remarkable display of restraint and decency under difficult circumstances."

Bullshit! Why doesn't anyone ever say, "Actually they're all a load of parasitical, stuck-up bastards and they're bleeding the rest of us dry!" That's the sort of thing they ought to be discussing in the morning, not some twat from the East End who shagged his wife's sister between football matches. Bollocks to frilly-underwear and Fern Britton and Phillip Scholfield. Bollocks to Winona Ryder and her kleptomania. Bollocks to whether such-and-such a politician is gay or whether Posh Spice is making a welcome comeback. Ignorant fuckers! Let's talk about what really happened on September the Eleventh and why two of the planes came down under highly suspicious circumstances. Let's talk about the amount of money politicians get paid...or rather pay themselves. Let's talk about the oil pipeline in Afghanistan and the back-handers being offered to topple Saddam. Let's talk about the corruption in the BBC...the monopoly of British utilities by the aristocracy. Let's talk about the church buying weapons and tanks on the premise that 'Violence is okay if it's our own soldiers committing it'! Let's talk about repression of people, repression of information, repression of political ideas, repression of talent, of races. Fuck the thick bastards from the back streets whose only obsession in life is sleeping with ugly cows. Fuck the gormless antics of personality-less Hollywood stars! Fuck the sexual preferences of the Royal Family.

But most of all, fuck the licence fee and fuck the manipulating, 'oh-we're-so-left-wing-self-proclaiming', loathsome, lying lords at the head of the fucking BBC.