Day One in the Big Brother House

For 9 years Big Brother has graced our screens every summer taking over months of broadcasting coverage without considering the pointless list of z-list celebs who have tried to re-launch their tired careers with a foray into the house of horror. As you can probably tell with my tone in this post I use the word "graced" in the loosest terms possible and quite probably the most ironic. Millions tune in each year to see the complete physical and mental breakdown of multiple strangers in scenes reminiscent of feeding time at Chester Zoo.

The grating narrator describes the events or should I say lack of events in way that must surely have destroyed the reputation of Geordies across the country and if said narrator is allowed back across the Tyne and into his fair city I would be very surprised. You hear the most trivial events described as if they are era defining moments suitable only for broadcast on the News at Ten.
If anyone has ever been unfortunate enough to sit through the varying degrees of boredom illustrated through Big Brother Live. Is it simply me or does nothing happen for hours on end? And yet millions of Britons tune in day by day to stare aimlessly at the vacuum of wallpaper television evolving in front of their very eyes.

Then you have the contestants...where do they find these people?! Does the door for people failing to get on the Jeremy Kyle show lead directly into Big Brother auditions or is it by some other freak method that these circus acts are selected. Caricatures of real people is the best way they can be described, the "contestants" another word used loosely around this show, couldn't be created by the likes of Gervais, Lucas and Walliams and lets be honest if they were we wouldn't believe them possible...

I wouldn't mind if there was any escape from the madness, the all encompassing nature of it all takes over press, television the radio airwaves making the summer a battlefield as you struggle to avoid being drawn into the corporation. The contestants come and go, driven by a desperate, burning quest for the holy grail or should I say 15 minutes of fame and a double page spread in the Daily Star. It used to be a case that fame came with the protagonist doing something important, meaningful and positive for the world not being willing to sell their story of a one night stand with a footballer (which I'm sure uses a template by the way, every story is the same) or the first pictures of their newborn baby. Intimate secrets are revealed to the world, the lads mags get a few new readers favourites and wedding coverage in OK goes up as ordinary people become media sluts, driven on by ££££££££££££'s.

And finally if you've lasted this long then you deserve some sort of reward...not that I have any to hand out but I would like to draw your attention to the most frustrating aspect of Big Brother. You may have picked up on some hypocritical references, that despite my hatred I may seem to have clocked up a few hours viewing time during the last decade and it is this fact that I am most annoyed about. Every year as much as I try to avoid it because I do believe everything listed above I always, without fail end up glued to the television caring about the people I see falling apart in front of me and giving a shit about the outcome after 3 months irrelevant shit.

There's my two penneth, I hope it affected you somehow even if it means ranting about something yourself...trust me you'll feel better for it. Thanks for reading...until next time.