Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Remember that old Skunk Anansie song, "Selling Jesus"

Well, the BCC4 are taking that concept, ignoring the song's criticism and pronouncement of inherent hypocrisy, and running ass wild with it, flogging God's might for advertisers and viewers alike. Make Me A Christian teams a group of cow-eyed Jesus monsters with another group of England's least reputable but most watchable (read:prone to lose grip on senses) peasants and shows what happens when fundies try to skullfuck religion into the barely functioning brains of unstable Britons. Hilarity and a stroke from Rickard Dawkins ensue. One helpful quote reads, "[the producers] stubbornly failed to mention that their lead "Christian mentor" was an extreme political activist who once campaigned to have the Welsh dragon removed from flags on the grounds that it was 'Satanic'."
Bloody Fucking Hell.

Now for a rant.
See, i understand the tendency of television programming companies and networks to rely so heavily on "reality" shows: they're more profitable than a hooker whose mouth dispenses take-away orgasms and fried wontons. Game shows like Survivor can be paid for almost entirely by ad revenue and product placement. The same is true of mission shows, Food Network has released several, like Alton Brown's Feasting on Asphalt (which is a great show and by that a poor example, but you get the idea); the same is equally true of goddamn near every unscripted program on television.
So, Fair's fair, these shows enable other shows, like Mad Men or 30 Rock, to see the light of pilot season and to stay on the air, even when no one watches them. Reality shows are a lot like university trade programs, like law, nursing, and business: they allow the college to maintain a philosophy department, even when the fucker never brings in a cent.
But there is a fucking limit to excusing belligerently shitty television for the sake of profit. This too, however, is an old argument. So i propose a wankoff! Like Grant Morrison did when his magnum opus, the Invisibles, was facing cancellation, i propose that we, the contributors and readers of Wristcomm(i know you're fucking out there, i have the comments to prove it) wank off to save television.
At the stroke of Midnight, January 1, start wanking off, no matter where you are, and think about all the awful television shows that crud up your nightly schedule. Think about them. Wank about them. Wank and think about them dying. Painfully and slowly.
Think about "Deal or No Deal" having its face eaten off by cyanide hissing beetles. Or what about the unending parade of MTV entitlement, fantasy land pseudo-docs like The Hills? What about all of them being plunger-sodomized by the Ukrainian spree killers. Imagine a world in which Jeff Foxworthy is murdered by Fifth graders who then impale his head on a pike and and use it to torch a NASCAR track.
So, in the spirit of the season and of something pretty and Wiccan or some other fake spiritual gobbeldy bullshit, i propose we think about horrid shit like that above while wanking on New Years in the hopes that so much Discordian tantric ju ju will transubstantiate in the frosty New Years evening air, become the opalescent figure of Og Dru Jihad, the Eternal Dragon, and eat every production company behind every awful show on TV. What do ya say?

Oh, pics or it didn't happen!


Brendan MD said...

Grant Morrison would kick you in the face for misinterpreting his magical theories.

s1m0n said...

grant morrison is too high on himself and the anti-life equation to kick anyone, and you KNOW my idea is a great one.