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Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Charity begins... somewhere else.

Its red nose day on Friday the 18th of March.

Blimey has it been two years since the last one?

Golly gosh.

But as I and countless others around the country dig deep in our pockets and pile as much small change together knowing that “every pound does make a difference” and head off to the local shops to stock up on fags crisps and booze to then lock ourselves away in a dungeon of despair away from the happy clapping bi-polar televisual event known as comic relief takes over the sanity of the office bore, I ask myself why?

Why am I bothering to even contemplate the thought of joining in and doing “something funny for money”?

And before anyone starts moaning about the bloody kids. My problem isn’t with them.

They don’t produce the shows.

I hate the way Lenny Henry is rolled out of whatever cryogenics lab he been hiding in since the last time he went “AA-WOOGA!” or whatever to the exact same act again and again and again.

Not since the days of Hale and Pace’s STONK! Has there been a reason to do this show.

They topped it on that night.

But since then the Beeb has winched out an ever dwindling parade of self promoting do-gooders to make you laugh one minute and then flip the tables by showing you a film of a doe eyed child in Africa with flies on her face, dying.

It a sad thing, that’s granted. But is there any reason and logical purpose for Lenny Henry and Ben Elton to keep flying out there to point, cry and be bewildered at the state of an entire continent.

Because that is what Africa is – a continent.

A bunch of second rate half assed comics who only just made through the 1990’s are still paraded on the goggle box to do silly things through the night interspersed with harrowing videos of the horrors of live in another part of the world.

That is not entertainment.

It was important in the 80’s because Nicolas Lyndhurst (it might not have been him) went on the news and reported about the plight of these poor buggers and it spurred live aid, which did wonders for Bob Geldof. And low and behold Henry and his crew jump on the band wagon and here we are twenty odd years later listening to the same old gags and fake emotional responses from the likes of Chris Moyles and Graham Norton.

“That’s right Chris you big fat lump, sit next to this one. He hasn’t eaten for a whole week and his mums dead. – look sad... SADDER...that’s it. Aaaaaaand action.”

I’m not offering any solution to the problems in Africa, that’s not for me. But a single night of crap TV can not in any way shape or form make any amount of difference to the plight of these poor people.

All comic relief does is give two bit comics a chance to relieve themselves of the perception that they are vacant hollow shells of human beings, who on any other night of the year can usually be found demanding more money and extra vanity gifts for being nothing more than recognised by the public while at the same time allowing idiots to part with £2.50 via text message in the vain belief they have made a difference.

Makes my blood boil.

Bugger off.

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