I like a bit of Eggheads, as I’ve already mentioned. Today’s, by the way, was a cracker and Dermot Murgnanahanahanaramalam had another dig at posh Daphne about her supposed royal connections.

Anyway, after yesterday’s ‘heads, I did something I don’t do very often … I turned over to ITV. Now, at 6.30 on a Tuesday on ITV, there’s something that my Sky Guide calls ITV Evening News & Weather.

Fair play to them, towards 7 o’clock, a blonde lady called Becky told me what the weather was going to be like, but up to that point, y’know, I could’ve sworn they promised me some news.

What I got instead was a mixture of tabloid-esque opinionated journalism that I suppose passes on some level as public interest but time and time again, my right eyebrow developed the gravity defying properties of a helium balloon and I was forced to ask the missus, “Is this really the news?” She just shrugged.

First up, we had the mother and father of one of the Ecuador coach crash victims, for reasons never fully explained, reading out an email they had received from their daughter before she died. The father, quite understandably, was inconsolable and broke down after only a few words. But the camera stayed on him. The film kept rolling. The mother eventually took over and at the end, they were both in tears and hugging and STILL the camera was there to pick up every nuance of their grief. It lasted about 30 seconds and felt like half an hour. The crash was news. The tragedy of it still is news. But the way ITV chose to edit and broadcast this intrusion was outrageous and seemed to suggest that we’re incapable of empathising with others unless it’s shoved right in our face.

Following this, they dedicated five minutes of a twenty-five minute broadcast to some wee laddie who sings opera and, surprise-surprise, gets bullied at school. HOW IS THIS NEWS? It was nothing more … NOTHING … MORE … than an advert for Britain’s Got Talent which, to the unaware, is the latest Simon Cowell vehicle where three multi-millionaires laugh and take the pish out of the mentally bewildered. This’ll show the bullies, says Cowell as they voted him through. Talk about going out on a limb. Still, I dare say we’ll find out in the next few days when there’ll no doubt be a Tonight programme dedicated to the accuracy of the high-waisted one’s premonition.

This evening, apparently space is a bit untidy and the world is going to run out of food but not before the coastline falls into the ocean and we all take part in a cult suicide because the value of our houses have fallen by a grand over the last month. It’s like the Express with pretty colours, sounds and a theme tune.

If I was in the slightest bit confused and thought I’d been transported back to the 80s, I’d fully expect Julia Somerville to stick out her buck teeth and invite a man with a buzz hair cut and glasses to show me some garden vegetables that look like cocks.

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