I was sat watching an episode of Big Brother last night, it was eviction night, it dawned on me, that it was like watching a fucking futuristic version of the scene out of Hunger games, but without the killing! The basic rules of the Hunger games are
- Be entertaining. These are the Games after all; they are held for the Capitol’s enjoyment – in this case mine and the millions of viewers who tune in to watch it
- If your time in the arena is boring, you won’t get much camera time, you won’t get much sponsor notice, and you won’t get many gifts. – in this case the gifts include, going from a nobody to an z lister, one in 14 people have the chance to scoop £100,000 and walk away with a delusional believe they are now special and have a new found, right and worthiness. Or even Special enough or have the right to endorse the latest shit quick fix product via instagram.
But before the actual eviction took place, the show took a look back on housemates previous recorded antics, which mainly involved hanging around the house, brushing their teeth, having a wesh, cooking, eating, getting dressed and I actually thought to myself “why the fuck am I watching this?”
But what struck me the most apart from the obvious, (that i was a sad fuck) was that the mental turmoil those three women, up for eviction were going through. Now don’t get me wrong here, I’m not saying that they are victims? I mean they are supposed to be grown ass adults who can made their own decisions and have their own minds. But, you could see all three were riddled, crippled with self doubt. They were in the Diary room questioning, “what had they done wrong? Why had they been chosen? What had they said? What hadn’t they said? Had they been authentic enough? Had they been playing the game right?” .
Now I am all for wanting to be seen, to be heard, but not at the expense 0f someone else’s enter-fucking-tainment and what was even worse was “I was fucking watching it!”
I watched as Emma willis, the host of BB regaled and teased the audience with snippets of what lay in store for the un-suspecting housemates, fuck me it was just like watching
Caesar Flickerman, the host of the Hunger Games, but instead of vying for blood and death, she was gearing the crowds up for more character assassination. “YOU the audience have a chance to fuck with sad fucks heads in the house, just go to the BB app to find out how to do it!
I think its safe to say, that whilst I find human behaviour fascinating, and I love to watch reality TV, its safe to say that I will not no longer be watching BB ever again.