|Humorous Views on London Culture, Royals, Gossip and Politics
THE XXX FACTOR - 12/12/10
I want to start a detox programme, I want to throw up, I want to take a shower.
Smarmy, pervy porn, deceitful, dishonest, fixed; it must be Simon Cowell’s cash cow – the
formulaic X Factor.
Surely the flat-headed Cowell checks his bank balance during the ads (at more than £400,000
per episode) while he promotes the totally un-talented.
I feel like I’ve been man-handled by manipulation... abused and used by the lewd. Auto-tuning,
miming, reverb and the finalists were still off pitch – way off pitch, screeching until our ears bled...
when they were in fact ‘singing’.
In the first of the last of the hyperbolical, epileptic-inducing programmes, we had to go ‘home’
with the last remaining standing. Local children ranging from 4 to 12 threw themselves at the
cameras shrieking the names of the possible winners while simultaneously writhing and almost
fainting from hysteria. They are surely future X Factor contestants.
Then we had to witness the results of false fame: divas in their underwear. Rihanna plus
‘dancers’ simulating sex, Aguilera plus ‘dancers’ simulating lap dancing, Robbie desperate for
approval, Will.i.am looking like an idiot.
Rihanna sang with crumpled, struggling, one note Matt while making every attempt to seduce
herself, Aguilera drowned out the retiring, lovely Rebecca and then blanked her when she had
finished screeching, Robbie mouthed ‘how much do you love me’ with the lip-syncing boy band,
and the ridiculous Will.i.am referred to the very ordinary, perpetually grimacing Cher as ‘unique, a
misfit’... and that was referencing her scary eyebrows. A few phrases a duet does not make....
The over-hyped final was anti-climatic as we all knew who would win and who would come in
second from day one.
Previous ballad singer Cher’s act: the ‘coolest’ diva on the planet. No. Painter/decorator (right)
Matt’s act: the ever-teary sensitive. No real tears. One Direction’s act: all naivety and cuteness
while apparently shagging every lap dancer on the show “like rabbits”. Charming.
Two minutes after Matt was announced the winner, the little curly-haired Harry reminded the
humble Matt; "Think of all the p---y you're going to get!" while Matt was still trying to convince us
he could actually sing. Charming. Over-excited at the prospect of shagging all those lap dancing
lap dancers, Matt bashed his mentor, Dannii, in her face with his microphone. Very charming.
Surely I watched the shows in a parallel universe where graphic porn is the cultural ethos for
family viewing by 20m people and their children. Even dogs had to leave the room.
Be brave. Revolt. Next year – for god’s sake, don’t vote or do what the lovely loser Cher
suggested with two fingers raised: "I didn't want to win anyway. I'm going to make it anyway.
You lot can stick it up your arse."