Art and X-Factor

  For the first time in a good few years, I watched a full episode of X-Factor tonight. Not entirely by choice, and it was from behind a book. I almost did this a few weeks previous during the audition stage, but I couldn't make the full episode, because the unmerciful cackling of the audience and  multi-millionaire judges at the faces of the helplessly deluded contestants who are pushed on to stage by produces with no morals made my stomach turn. And the watchers at home who laugh a long are no better by my code.

 Tonight's episode - although not as bad - didn't do much at change the direction of the breeze in which my respect of humanity is blowing. The premise of the show wasn't hard to pick up, one by one fame-hungry talentless cunts preform already shit songs to a panel of  four of the most gormless shits I've ever seen. Including Gary Barlow who is basically the plot to Speed 3 where terrorists have planted a bomb in his larynx, which will explode if he talks in more than one tone. And also Louis Walsh who constantly has a glassed expression on this face, like an off-camera runner is holding up a que-card with a picture of a giant cock. As well as two other judges that are too boring to even lampoon. 

Before each of the dreadful display is a short VT where all they go on about how all their life they've wanted to be famous and self-congratulate themselves on how supposedly charismatic they are before they almost drown in their own tears about some uncle they ever met who dies years ago, an are going to capitalize their whole career on said relatives death. 

  Tonight's episodes was based around songs about heartbreak (how fuckin' deep). The problem with this, is that most of the people on the show are about 19 or 20 so couldn't put any soul into it - and before some dumb bitch  tells me that age doesn't mean anything; just because your boyfriend with a car dumped you when you were thirteen for someone his own age, doesn't mean that your life's over, so shut the fuck up. And why do they have to sing cover songs anyway? Why can't they they sing their own? Is it to much to ask for that they have, you know, a little talent? If that was the case, we wouldn't now have Olly Murs churning out shit like "Ooh, she let me sleep with her, I figured her figure's a sure sure winner,Plus, I've got to leave from the back I'm a skipper,You make my heart skip, skip, skip, skip, skip, skip a beat." Yep, fuckin' poetry that mate. Simon and Garfunkel would be jealous. With this, and the added bonus of non of them being able to play instruments, the judges still have the audacity to call the artists. REWIND!. How are they artists? They can't write, they can't play, some of them can barley sing. Where does art come into it? Bob Dylan, he's an artist. Jimi Hendricks, he's an artists. John Lennon. Jim Morrison. But on X-Factor, they wouldn't even get past the auditions, because they don't have, by conventional standards,  they don't have great voices, which on X-factor is not only the most important, but the only important element. Aren't you glad X-Factor wasn't around in the '60s? 

  So here's my final message; this goes out to anyone who's thinking about applying for next years show. If you can sing, and want to sing, but can't write or play; this in't the business for you. Act in musicals, or on Cruse ships. we already have enough singers, what we need is artists. And even if you can, great, but still don't apply, keep your dignoty.