Britain’s got it…

My mind melting into a cheese-like mess from overwork this evening, I’m finding myself watching Britain’s Got Talent. Whilst I can say without certainty it proves Britain definitely has something, I’m not certain talent is the right word.

Things which Britain has include the ability to make jokes and eat biscuits whilst planes drop bombs from above. Britain has the amazing ability to make great engineering spectacles out of little more than a bit of corrugated cardboard and some sticky tape. We have the amazing ability to develop amazing poor branding for companies and events, trying to mirror espresso drinking Americana rather than sticking with weak-tea British values. We have an amazing ability to talk about the weather without ever being able to accurately predict its outcome. Britain has a knack of being able to wear without fear black sandals with brown socks below white shorts whilst on holiday. Britain has a amazing ability (a la Billy Bragg), to show it’s national pride by urinating in public fountains during major football tournaments. We’re also quite good at having an army which runs on antiquated machinery and dubious mustaches.

However, talent, using the proper bona fide definition of the word, you know, in the sense ‘to have talent’, this programme does not have. Sticking spoons on your nose, singing so far off key you’d need a compass and a pair of sensible shoes to get back to the right note, these are not things which shows the country’s talent. Perhaps the fact the whole farce presented by two Geordie’s who rose to fame, as far as I can see, because they could wear baseball caps and exclaim ‘It’s uncanny Geoff’ on cue, should have forewarned me.

It’s Londoner’s eating their McVities off of the fine china during air raids that make me proud to be British, and these ‘acts’ fall a little short of the mark….