Saturday, 9 October 2010

The X Factor

Pray for my soul. I just caught a glimpse of one of those manufactured “talent” shows. I couldn't help thinking about those wastes of flesh, those hollow victories against the chaotic forces of entropy who have unwittingly brought the universe just that bit closer to heat death.


  1. ...or slow death by mediocrity (like drowning in your own dirty bath water.)

  2. Yes indeed. Like the disturbing and inexplicable appearance of fecal matter floating in your tub water, together with a growing sense that the sewage system has let you down.

    As ever, Bill Hicks spells it out:

  3. There's a quote from the movie Fight Club, when Tyler Durden says: “We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars, but we won't. We're slowly learning that fact.” Some people misunderstood the basic – and intentional - irony of having Bradus Pittus utter those words, which, for those paying attention, portend a coterminous melding of an underground anti/sub-culture into just another culture of cult. He winds up becoming the very mythic superstar he claims to despise and seeks to depose. That's how powerful the tendency to idolisation is and, it's not entirely a bad thing per se. We all need heroes, examples to aspire to. But it's a collective indictment to our sense of aspiration, that barely pubescent wannabes have somehow, insidiously, become the measure of success. The fulfilled life. Don't get me wrong, there's room for this manufactured celebrity, but it's crowding out the less “glamorous” yet equally, if not more deserving, alternatives.