Remember the TV programme ‘Lost’? Like it went on for God knows how long – six seasons I think – and you were either totally obsessed (beyond all measures of sanity and decorum) by it or you were like the rest of us - normal. And the only difference between the totally obsessed fan and the rest of us was that while both had no idea what the &%#$*^ was going on, the totally obsessed fan would spend eighteen hours a day trying to figure it out and then go on line to post their ponderings.
I even remember that there was a thread on my workplace intranet dedicated to the final series of ‘Lost’. And all these ‘Lost’ obsessed geeks were writing posts where they tried to out predict each other about what would happen in the final episode. I thought the whole thing was so completely ‘out there’ that one day I wrote and submitted a sarcastic post where I suggested that the ‘Lost’ characters would find Gilligan and the Professor who would help them build a blue telephone box and disguise it as a time machine that they could use to escape to New York with Kurt Russell just in time to find out that ‘Lost’ character Jack Shepherd was, in actual fact, Darth Vader’s second child. Confused? Well so was the plonker who wrote in wanting to know if I got my information from a reliable source!!!
But this Blog isn’t really about ‘Lost’ because fortunately they’re no longer lost, they’re just archived for eternity – and boy, aren’t we grateful about that? No, this Blog is about the new obsession that seems to have replaced it – ‘Glee’.
I mean now there’s internet sites dedicated to fans who want to write in and tell us all how wonderful and meaningful the show is – how it saves lives, helps sociopaths to overcome adversity and eliminates third world poverty. You can already buy the first series on DVD and Blue Ray with bonus cast interviews and hundreds of hours of special features. And I’ve recently heard that SONY are developing a Playstation Sing Star version of the show.
Notwithstanding that the other day I read about a local University that is starting its own Glee club. I mean, for goodness sake, do we really want the leaders of tomorrow bursting into song every time a critical decision needs to be made? Like, we’ll all go to the Polls come election time in 2014 and vote for the candidate who can do the best rendition of “the hills are alive…”.
And what is this ‘Glee’ phenomenon all about? What is its inherent purpose, its philosophical underpinnings?
#&%@*& if I know!!!! It’s just God damned awful!
But it’s everywhere. Jolie and Pitt, Aniston, the Beckhams, Hiltons, Geldofs and Royals – they’ve all been cast aside from their front cover positions to be replaced by ‘Glee’. Batman, Spiderman, Bob the Builder and the Little Mermaid have all lost their primary status on our children’s lunchboxes due to the show. And every time you go to Itunes to download a classic song they recommend that you might also like the Glee-a-fied cover version. Someone even sent me a You-Tube of the Queen classic ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ the other day, suggesting that “You just have to hear this version from Glee”.
I reckon you can just go off some people, eh?
Like, I was at a friend’s house for dinner the other night. It was a great evening. We’d had a nice meal, some good wine, excellent coffee – the most brilliant company… You know, one of those perfect evenings where you just sit back, relax and enjoy yourselves.
Then, at half eight the hostess says “let’s put Glee on”.
Well after I spat a mouthful of beer across their beautifully piled shag, I seriously questioned their sanity. But it was my sanity that was about to come unstuck. That’s because even before I could begin my pleas and protests they had switched it on – and tonight was GaGa and Kiss night. Can you imagine the places that took me – listening to the Glee team yodel Bad Romance and whimper Shout It Out Loud? Like, how do you recover from that?
And despite the fact that I was convulsing on the end of my friend’s sofa, an obvious case of traumatic exposure, they allowed the whole episode to play out. So I also had to endure a touching mother/daughter crucifixion of Poker Face and a desperate attempt from the guys to portray irony through their tortured rendition of Beth. And all I kept thinking was “find your happy place… find your happy place… find your happy place”.
It apparently took paramedics twenty five minutes to stabilize me before I could be transported to the local hospital. It took another two days before doctors could get the medication balance right and feel confident about my safe reintegration back into society. I have since written to the Broadcast Standards Authority demanding that a health warning be televised prior to each weekly screening of ‘Glee’, but I haven’t as yet had a reply.
In the meantime, I’m at home recuperating. So I’ve just hired out the entire collection of ‘Lost’ from my local DVD store. And do you know what?...
… I think I’ve figured it out…
…But that’s for another time.
That’s what I think… and usually I’m right.
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