Your [not so] humble blogger has admitted to reading the Mail but the types of females in the right sidebar leave me cold. One of those females is someone apparently called Christine Bleakley and I’ve just been reading comments on her woeful ratings on breakfast TV – I wouldn’t know, not having TV.
Now, from what I’ve seen of her – and the Mail lavishes piccies of the huge-gobbed one – she’s young[ish], pretty from a distance [until she opens her mouth] and suffers from that debilitating disease – Am-I- Not-A-True-Celeb-And-Drop-Dead-Gorgeous-To-Boot? Who needs talent? I seem to recall a similar type called Cher recently.
One commenter wrote:
We, the viewing public are not stupid. Everyone can see that Christine Bleakley is in it for herself. Her selfishness comes across on screen. It’s patently obvious she wants to further her career and has no interest whatsoever in relating to the people who actually have tried to watch this programme.
This is the poison at the heart of this programme. Two self-seeking, smug, conceited individuals who do not care one iota about the people they are meant to be presenting to.
I couldn’t comment on that comment. Leaving aside the Worship-the-Celebrity culture in our society for now and hack interviewers imagining that they are the celebrities, let’s focus instead on the other couch occupier – Adrian Chiles whom I’ve also not seen in action but apparently he was not too bad in sport.
Now, there is clearly a market for a down-to-earth curmudgeon and I, for one, greatly enjoy the blogosphere variety. To have someone present the news with a wry smile and a cutting aside would get me watching news again.
I remember him from my time in Australia in the 80s and he was good to view, late evening, with his comments on the news. Perhaps he saw himself as a celebrity but he never came across that way. In fact, he came across as a man who thought he was about to be sacked at any moment and that came out in this 2005 ABC interview:
* [A producer phoned him and asked:] “Would you come and fill in?” And as I walked down the passageway, he said, “Just do your own thing” and I thought, I’ll do my own thing. If they don’t like it, they can say he’s only filling in, and if they do like it it’s good. Came off air and the boss said, “We have got a wonderfully good response for you this morning. Jolly well done.” I said “Oh, good.” He said “Did you enjoy it?” I said “not really”.
* Well, you know, come on, so journalists are a bit thick as you know, Peter, you’ve worked with a few, they really are thick. I mean, they really should be sterilised.
* There’s a time to stay, there’s a time to move. And thanks to the ABC and their impolite behaviour in dispensing with me, I’ve decided to downsize from this gorgeous place to something somewhat smaller.
* At the age of 18 months, I realised I couldn’t cope with human beings.
* I remember mum was doing the pruning. Now, she denies that she tried to kill me but she says I was – I wondered why my ear was bleeding one day and she said, “Well there you were and you crept up on me” – me crept up on her – and I turned around and the secateurs went through my ear. The police have left this case open.
* But I really fancy women. My problem was that I probably shouldn’t have wanted to keep them at home. You know, I’m disqualified from relationships with women and I’ve got to say [to] every woman I’ve been involved with – I really question your taste in men and I’m serious. I really wouldn’t recommend me to anyone.
* I look at these amazing creatures with all the bits and pieces and my IQ drops. I have interviewed women as close as you, gorgeous women, and my brain says all right, we’re going to just forget about this and my IQ drops. A real difficulty, any man who’s not mesmerised by women is not straight, Peter.
* I find steam locomotives, especially and indeed diesel locomotives, the fantasy and the reality are the same. Now, there’re not many things in life that are like that, are there? You’re married are you? You understand that?
Speaking just for myself, mind – we don’t seem to like people who give themselves airs, who imagine they’re the best thing since sliced bread. Bleakley seems to have crossed that line but that might be because all the sycophants she is surrounded with are constantly telling her she is gorgeous and devastatingly intelligent.