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We need another celebrity talent show.  No, wait, put down that taser, I'm serious.  We need Celebrity So You Think You Can Fight?

Imagine it: Z-list celebs cage-fighting in the octagon.  No butting, gouging or biting.  Russell Brand getting pwned by wee Jimmy Krankie because wee Jimmy's secretly been doing Brazilian Jiu Jitsu for the last twenty years.  Middle-aged soap stars squaring off against pop producers.  The WAGapocalypse: Two WAGs enter, one WAG leaves.  Lembit Opik and George Galloway in tight shorts all tangled up and bloody.

It's a golden win.  And it would franchise across the world (except Russia, maybe, where Putin would enter wearing the skin of a bear he killed himself and the opposing celeb would tap out as soon as the first bell rang). 
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After getting all excited over the Warren Ellis comic series Global Frequency, it turns out there's a pilot for a TV show, made in '05.  The pilot never got released, and the show never got made, but it has a weird phantom life out there in the torrents.  It's actually pretty good - some rough edges, but hey, it's a pilot.  The series, it had potential.  

I wonder what other dead pilots and cancelled-in-shooting series are out there, escaped from the vaults?  I wonder how many Facebook friends a dead pilot has before it has a chance to transition from larva to a full adult series before flying off into space on leaky radio waves?

I'm still finding the idea of a bunch of people connected together ad-hoc to be intoxicating.  Imagine what you could do (or prevent)?  And I'm seeing things like the Moldovan anti-government protest organized on Twitter and you know, maybe it's coming.  Where's my Aleph, that's what I wanna know?
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Wow, what a foul programme.  Under the thinnest of "health is good, hm'kay" veneers we get two poor individuals who are paraded as physical and psychological freaks ("she eats a cake every hour!" - "she runs a marathon before a breakfast of coffee and dexedrine!") before being made to spend time eating what the other one eats.  We get to watch the inevitable skinny person's distress as they run out of internal space (their mental issues notwithstanding - this is pretty much torture if you've got food issues) and the fat person's distress as their digestive system, rigged to fuel a hefty body, runs on empty (and if you've never been fat and hungry, you've no idea *how* hungry that can be, srsly).

I mean, why not just set fire to some kittens or something? 

There's a line between interesting (if prurient) health telly and torture porn.  "Freaky Eaters" is the good side; "Supersize vs Superskinny" is the bad side.  It's gratuitous and cruel.
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The new series of Gladiators starts soon and teaser posters are popping up.  They're all the same format: one of the new glads looking mean and photoshopped, with the caption "Gladiators Ready".  Go on, read it without doing the referee bloke's voice in your head.

What confuses me is that the male glads are generally looking, well, gladiatorial - all muscles and mean stares and the promise that the contenders are going to get a kicking.  As you'd expect.  But the female glads are done up in statuesque poses that suggest not so much combat readiness as a flexploitation eagerness to bludgeon someone into unconsciousness with their Boobs Of Death. 

C'mon marketing guys.  Girls can be athletes too, y'know?  They can even be athletes and hot, without having to unleash the cheeseball Red Sonja stereotype.  There's something about this that suggests that the boys will be playing for real and the girls will be mud-wrestling for the boy's delight, and that doesn't sit comfortably.  Female readers: Does this sort of cheese put you off?  Or am I just overreacting? 

Ah well, it's just the posters.  I look forward to the marvellous silliness of the programmes later when they escape Sky 1's orbit.
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TVTropes is a gert big wiki site that deconstructs those cheesy tropes found on telly.  Hit random or search for your favourite guilty-pleasure telly, toon or scifi.  I was put onto it by some Mortal Engines fans.  My ass is going numb sat here.

You know, I'd swear some series just hit the randomizer a few times for each week's plot.  "Hmm, we got an earth-shattering kaboom, a hot amazon, slap slap kiss, scare em straight and the xanatos gambit."  "Can I have a no-one survives that as well?"
andygates: (hellboy)
Courtesy of the Register, it seems that James Marsters (that's Spike from the Buffyverse to you and me) is going to be turning up in Torchwood.  That almost makes me want to watch it - except that what I want to happen (which is basically Buffyverse / Dr Whoniverse crossover slash) won't, will it?  No Face of Boe in a Hellmouth for me, not unless I've been a very good boy.  We'll get some weepy emoting and a silly monster effect again...

You know what I'd like to see?  The residents of Cardiff actually noticing the nine-bell alarms and carnage that Torchwood kick off all the time.  The joke about how a skinless abomination "looks a bit rough, but you should see my Mam after a kebab" is great the first time but wears damn thin.

Maybe Martha can spice it up a bit. 
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