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Thursday, 16 December 2010

The Royal Variety Performance 2010 (And My 2011 Wish List)

Right. First off, it's for charity, right? So it's not all bad. But most of it is. There's a horrible smell of "the poor peasants are set out to entertain the important people" about the whole thing. Then they have to stand in a line afterwards and "meet them".

But it's one of those things, isn't it? It's completely contradictory in all senses. I hate it but I can't switch it off. Right now, over-acting joke-thief Jack Whitehall is dying on stage while spilling a routine about Prince Charles and his brothers sneaking into the palace with "a six-pack of Stella and a Domino's Pizza".

But it's addictive. It's like watching one of those dancing bears. You know it's completely wrong. Entirely unethical and criminal, but you can't look away! You want to (because Dirk Gently is on the other side) but you just bloody can't! Where else do you get such a bizarre and mismatched line-up? Only this show can open with Kylie and throw Cheryl Cole, Paloma Faith, Russell Fucking Watson and Susan Boyle at us. And Michael McIntyre, Sarah Millican and Lee Mack... Oh, hang on... No, this is ANY show, isn't it? That's just... what we have on telly these days.

I want a ventriloquist, a magician, some fella swallowing swords, the Two Ronnies and mental Czechoslovakian rope-dance act. Not the bloody Chelsea Pensioners crooning old songs like your pissed-up Granddad on Boxing Day. And I want Paloma Faith. Because she's lovely. 

So next year, I'm doing the line-up. I'm starting it early though, so that they don't all get booked up. I'm not telling you exactly what to expect, but there'll be no ice skating. There WILL be Barrowman. And Paloma Faith. And DEFINITELY some other pensioners, but not the Chelsea ones, no. The ones from the Rhondda. With hearing issues and zimmers, racially unsound views and an inherited resent for the young.

It's not over yet, this year's Performance... But it feels like it's gone on so long that my life almost is. So before I gouge out my eyes and plug them in my ears to assure I bleed to death in relative peace, I've decided to post this. As a sort of "too late warning". I know. I'm useless. I really am sorry. So sorry. But hey, at least there was that bit with Paloma Faith at the start, innit?