Enabling the Stupid?

GC rang me this morning with some questions and observations about last night's TT. As it turns out, one episode was enough to get him hooked. He's concerned that TT are the moral police and stupidity enablers of this country but I pointed out that it's a 50/50 job, with ACA doing its fair share. Our conversation then denigrated into media bashing and an argument over Diet Coke vs Coke Zero. For the record, I'm strictly a Coke Zero girl.

I think the morality police bit is fairly obvious, so I'll leave that alone until the next time I have five or six hours to write up a post bitching about all that is wrong with the media attempting to dictate society's morals. One thing I've noticed in my years of watching TT is that it never, ever fails to have at least 1 story each week featuring a stupid person who's been ripped off by a smarter person. While I accept that your average Joe doesn't have the time and energy to research the multitude of investment schemes available these days, I'm not willing to accept that this average Joe would just put $100,000+ into a clearly dodgy investment without asking a few questions. Or that average Joe would be unaware of the need to divide his money between safe and risky investments and not to have all his eggs in 1 basket.

Last night's "battler gets ripped off, world ends, life is cruel and unjust" story featured a clever man with very poor taste in just about everything worth having: clothes, cars, houses, jewellery. Honest injun, one of his get rich quick seminars had him driving into an auditorium in an over the top luxury car, another had him dressed in some sort of gold lamé jacket, telling everyone around him that he could make them filthy, stinking rich. A man who worked for our shyster related a lovely anecdote which had the shyster walking into the room and throwing a really expensive ring across the desk. I'm assuming this was man jewellery, and common sense tells you to never, ever take anyone wearing man jewellery seriously. But! not only did the employee take the shyster seriously, he also gave him all his fucking money.

These sorts of stories feature all the time, and always start off with a 'Strayan battler being shafted, a con artist dancing gleefully around in a poorly cut suit and GN bitching afterwards about the morality of the con artist. The show rarely focuses on how only the stupid and greedy could have been caught up in the con artist's scam and offers the "victims" loads of sympathy via a head nod and a GN bitch session.

Thought of the day: Unless there's another Enron or the managment of your bank decide to piss of to Barbados with your savings, then it's pretty difficult to be screwed out of your cash.

Which brings me to another story featured last night. A stupid man had received a compesnation payout of $1.2 million and had invested his windfall very badly. Think movie props and trips to QLD badly. Apparently it's all very tragic but, ohmigod, the Australian taxpayer will now have to support this permanantly disabled man for the rest of his days. Wow, I'm shocked, floored, bitterly angry. I've checked Centrelink's Website and the pension pays approximately 12k a year, which is about the same as the dumbasses who invested with the shyster above will be receiving once they find out that he's put their superannuation cash in an offshore account.

I'll be passing a story idea along to Harry. This one can feature all the stupid people who've lost money via get rich quick schemes who'll now be living off the government teat in their twilight years. TT already has the footage it needs for the segment, all it has to do is record a few moralising voiceovers and help GN sound out the big words in her end of segment diatribe.

Lazy

I've been meaning to post all day but salmon, rice and Jo Sharp have been conspiring against me. Last night's TT was legendary and included the following topics: sugary drinks, a faith healer, a welfare mother, gambling addicts and "super dads". Seriously, I wet myself before, during and after the show and will be sending GN the drycleaning bill for my couch.

The faith healer was full of shit, possibly abusing drugs, hideous, spoke strangely and attracted a crowd of rednecks, religious nuts and fellow substance abusers; TT struck gold with that bloke. A large man with a disease that prevented him from walking (and, presumably, shaving his hideous moustache) was able to get up and boogie in the name of Jesus. Following up his story, TT found that he was still walking and that fucking moustache was still there, praise the Lord! Another family had a son who would either go on to lead the Labor party or live his life in a constant care facility. The son didn't change but his bogan father was able to run. Yes, run!!!! So it's like having Jesus as your personal trainer, but instead of everyone in the gym laughing at you, you get everyone in Australia having a giggle at your expense.

Welfare mums are TT's favourite dead horse and last night's specimen was everything I expected and more. She and her partner were receiving the equivalent of $50,000 taxable salary per year to feed, house, clothe and medicate 7 people. You do the math. A part of me wanted to storm parliament and demand this woman be publicly flogged, but I'm simply too lazy. There was so little to hate about this woman, but perhaps I'm looking down from my lofty position amongst the "elite" and not approaching the story from the angle of an overtaxed, middle income battler trying to pay off a huge mortgage in Sydney. If I were this hypothetical battler with my two ewe'neekly named children and a wife at home spending my spare cash on scrapbooking supplies, you'd be damned sure I'd be angry. I'd get off my arse, get on the phone and ring the welfare office for a bigger share of the FTB, yeah, that's what I'd do.

Which brings me to sugary drinks. Honestly, if you're too stupid to realise that Ribena is loaded with sugar then both you and your children deserve to get Type 2 Diabetes and die blind and limbless in a poorly staffed public hospital.

Problem gambler? Life must suck for you, but your gambling pays for my cheap meals at the Blacktown Workers Club*, if it weren't for you I'd be eating two minute noodles and baked beans five times a week.

The segment on super dads shitted me five ways from Sunday. Women have to take on difficult child rearing tasks every day so why should a father who contributes more to child rearing than is expected be feted as some sort of superhuman? Hey, good for you, el yobbo, you've stepped up to the mark and you're doing an adequate job (albeit with community and charity support), bravo, have an extra pickle on your burger and please shut the fuck up.

*I fucking wish; that's fine dining where I come from.

A New Twist

Last night I had a Gentleman Caller, hereafter known as "GC" and was anticipating a TT free evening. I'd shower, get rid of the empty liquor bottles from on top of my fridge, put away the collected works of the Marquis De Sade and pop a tape into the VCR so that I could watch TT after a pleasent evening of wholesome activities. But, quelle horreur! my VCR chose that night to die a slow and hopefully agonizing death. What to do?

"GC", I began, "What do you say to an evening in front of the idiot box?"
To which he replied "Will there be a very, very special reward for me at the end?"
"Of course, dear*".

Naturally it wasn't an evening, in fact, it was an hour if you include the news at 7 which GC insisted on watching. A street kid with a very 1990s earring and haircut had come into some money and bought a very expensive McMansion with the help of a very expensive loan. Nothing wrong with that; we all have dreams and aspirations. The urchin was receiving government benefits (as befits an urchin) and couldn't afford the repayments for his home loan. To make a long story short, the urchin wasted his inheritenace and is now using a government funded lawyer to sue the mortgage broker for treating him like the idiot he is.

GN was concerned and appalled and shook her head several times; apparently botox has stolen her expressions and head nodding is all the poor dear has left. Either that or the long term cocaine habit is finally catching up with her.

Today's lesson: HAHAHAHA!&^*&@#@#%^!!!! suxked in LOLZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ, stupid child.

*I had made a trifle and I gave the GC an extra serving. Suprise!

Class Warfare

Friday's show had it all: Public housing, vicious children, outer suburbs, 'Strayan diggers having their legacy dishonoured and the beginnings of class warfare!

A delightful story/piece of spin for a new auction site that caters to the ultra wealthy or ultra envious rounded out the week's fluff. I'm not sure how this is relevant to TT's target demographic; do the residents of Shit St, Emu Plains have a few million lying around to buy ferraris and big boats? My theory, and one shared by both Harry and Spooge McFuck is that GN is sowing the seeds of discontent out there in the heartland. In a week or so we will see stories calling for the rich to be destroyed and their assets handed out at an outer west Centrelink office.

Watch this space....

Boo

I've let the team down these past few days. Usually I try and tape GN and her Merry Band of Thugs (MBT) while they terrorise the poor and stupid for my viewing pleasure if I'm unable to watch it live.

This week I have failed.

However, I'm fairly sure that Ms Universe got a run, a bunch of poor people were ripped off, some angry neighbours complained, Australians caught in Lebanon were laughed at, Muslims were questioned, immigrants were abused, welfare recipients were insulted and, really, who gives a flying fuck?

My other industry insider, Ms Spooge McFuck has told me that GN has formed an unholy alliance with the SBS news crew and that funny little man from Big Brother. They plan to bury the ACA chick down a mine and blame it all on unsafe and predjudiced work practices at Channel Nein as a direct result of the new IR laws. Watch out, Australia!

Why Not Cannabalism?

Gaping Naomi is concerned that the poor are receiving inferior meat, but who is she to judge the quality of animal flesh? I have it on good authority that she's spent the past decade feasting exclusively on the internal organs of virgins and drinking their blood mixed in with her daily litre of vodka.

Here's a thought, GN, the poor are more concerned about paying their electricity bills than buying scotch fillet and lamb cutlets. And when are you going to get back to me re my story idea - "Illegal Immigrant Flesh: The Australian Way to Dine"?

Oh, Naomi

This blog is dedicated to the queen of invasive, morally superior, camera as weapon, all around cunttastic current affairs programs, Gaping Naomi. Let it be said that Naomi, not the creator of this blog (as is implied by Harry, my industry insider), is the gaper. And what a gaper she is! There is a huge gape where her heart should be, absolutely ginormous, unless you're Schapelle Corby or a trapped miner. Loads of sympathy should Schapelle ever find herself trapped down a mine.