Good singers? Show me talent show attendees with full heavyweight licenses. Then i will be impressed
When I was first asked to write about The Big Deal, I wrote, of course, about the importance of countercyclical stimulus packages in times of economic decline before going on to a riff on the Schumpeter’s creative destruction and a defense of the consolidation of state power by Roosevelt in the 1930s. I thought that was excellent.
My editor said to me: “You are thinking of the New OK. We wanted you to write on the Fat Deal, the Sunday night talent show starring Boy George, one of the guys from JLS and the two Jedwards. It’s on Virgin Media and I think someone’s rollerblading.
On second thought, that made a lot more sense. I am not Fintan O’Toole. And no one really skates outside of economics books except maybe John Maynard Keynes. The Big Deal is not at all like the New Deal. There is a stimulus package, but it is in the form of a grand prize of € 50,000. The people vying for the win are cash-strapped artists, and it will only pay a few months of rent in Dublin.
We don’t have a show called Best Talent Show Judge yet, in which different talent show judges demonstrate their judging skills for the approval of some sort of talent show supreme court, but this is only a matter of time
The only lifelong job in the entertainment industry these days is talent show judge. We haven’t reached a situation yet where we have a show called Best Talented Show Judge, in which different talented show judges demonstrate their judging skills for the approval of some kind of show supreme court. talent, but it’s only a matter of time.
The only judge in this crowd worthy of being on a supreme talent show is probably comedian Deirdre O’Kane. She looks curiously at the circus acrobats and buskers and, seeing no cardiac surgeons or farmers, realizes that the jig is ready for our civilization. (I know I read a lot about this.)
JLS’s Aston, meanwhile, has the 1,000-yard look of the reality TV veteran. The jury desk is a lifeboat and he hangs onto it. “Don’t send me back in the dark!” he cries from time to time.
Cork Lyra’s bubbly popstress bounces happily in her chair. She is new to the entertainment industry and still has hope in her heart, much like the birds of the sky before they were used in her feathered dress.
The Jedwards, both Jed and Ward, are a surprisingly calm and thoughtful presence. They seem resigned to the fact that they both get a vote, a fifth of the office, a birth certificate, a passport and a social security number. The twins are legally one now. This is one of the things the Greens have accomplished in government.
Last but not least is veteran poptician Boy George, who still interests me. The fact that Boy George still calls himself Boy George while clearly being a middle-aged man, George, reinforced my determination that my new nephew should have been called Baby. Baby would be a bit on the nose as a name for a real baby (his parents’ counter-argument), but it would be a unbelievable name for an adult.
Vogue welcomes Williams in its famous relaxed way. Some viewers might have liked the producers to have gone with his more cheerful sisters, Woman’s Way or Whizzer and Chips. But I like his laid back style
Boy George’s parents certainly knew where they were when they called him Boy. And look at him now: he’s leading a talent competition jury while sporting a seemingly drawn beard and an oversized hat.
Yes, another interesting thing about Boy George is that he wears some insanely tall hats. This is either because he has a distorted impression of his own noggin (“Damn my unbelievably big head!”) Or because he stole the headgear from a larger minifigure (“In your face Mumm -ra! ”) the skull dilates during times of great stress. (In the latter case, this is a potential show for a future episode.)
In addition to the jury, there’s Vogue Williams, who presents the dressy acts this week, much like an extra in Dune while performing her duties with her famous laid-back attitude. Some viewers would like a little more spice from Vogue, suggesting that maybe the producers should have gone with its more cheerful sisters, Woman’s Way or Whizzer and Chips. But I like its laid back style. She will undoubtedly end up delivering her lines in a soft drawl wherever she is lying on the stage and that will be excellent.
The twist is that before being judged, each candidate has the opportunity to make a money deal and then leave, rather than risking the jury’s judgment, potential foreclosure and eventual shortage. During this episode, roller-skating daredevils compete against an acrobatic pole-dancer. None of the judges said, “I have no idea how to judge this because I am not qualified in any discipline!” Because that would be to admit the emptiness at the heart of the whole company. Instead, the daredevils of skating are coming home sadly.
So a very good singer competes with another very good singer. No offense to any of them, but it is now clear that “having a good voice” is the most over-represented talent in Europe. If the two of them had just stood there to hold on full truck licenses, so I would be impressed.
The third competition here is between a drag queen who synchronizes both lips and legs (dances) and two boys in leather pants who do Irish dancing but in a sexy and exuberant way. The latter reminds me, for some reason, of folk masses and the words “foreign sports”. The brave drag queen takes the money and sashays away.
In The 2 Johnnies attack … (Monday, RTÉ2) two podcasters take on TikToking. Twenty years ago, that phrase would have indicated that someone was having an episode. But the meaningless gibberish is now a business model, and the eponymous Johnnies spend the episode trying to get a feel for TikTok, a social media microvideo platform beloved by convicted Gen Z residents.
The main problem with fish escapades out of the water is that in real life the fish die by panting within minutes of landing on land, so it’s usually much more exciting to watch animals used to being out of the water. water. But in fairness to the 2 Johnnies, they’ve turned the ancient art of televised eejitry into finely honed ballet, and I often find myself laughing as they grapple with the tropes of TikTok.
On the other hand, there is just too much randomness right here for me. As they interview people who put garlic in their noses until it is unpleasant, chop logs with their shirts until it arouses and examine the hedges until it is fun , I’m starting to wonder when the other 2 Johnnies of the Apocalypse are coming. In conclusion: I am old.