Scraping the barrel

"OK, listen up everyone. Now you've all seen the latest TV audience research figures right?... I said Right?"

(Grunt... mumble... grunt)

"I'll take that as a yes. Good, fine... According to the survey, most people with a university education never watch local TV. So what should that tell us?"

(Grunt... mumble... grunt... mumble... grunt... mumble)

"Precisely! Would you like to put that into words for us, Edwin?"

"Er..."

"Then I'll have to tell you. The fact that nobody with an iota of brain between their ears watches Maltese television means that we, my friends and colleagues at BBS (Basic Broadcasting Service), are doing precisely the right thing and reaching our target audience."

"Uh?... ahem... you what?.. Pardon?"

"Yes, of course we are. I mean who, but a lobotomised moron with the attention span of a fruit fly, would ever watch anything we put out? We target, and apparently hit, an audience comprising 100 per cent brain-dead degenerates."

"Isn't that a bit, er... well, harsh, Mr Chairman?"

"Which bit, Edwin, the fruit fly or the brain-dead degenerates?"

"Um... well, both."

"Not at all. Just look at the audience figures for trashy programmes like Tista' Tkun Int, that tells it's own story. And have you recently cast a glance in the direction of that Friday night shoutathon, Xarabank?"

"Dire!... Desperate!... Total rubbish!"

"Of course it is, and it's just the sort of effluent we should be packing the schedules with. Our audience have spoken, and spoken loud. And what they have said is that they want garbage TV... and that's what we must give them. Out goes any intelligent discussion programme.'

"I didn't know we did any."

"We don't, Marie, but just in case we ever contemplated doing any... we'll have to think again."

"What about sport, and particularly football?... Champions League and all that?"

"I'm glad you mentioned that, Edwin. Football is fine, just so long as we keep using our current crop of commentators."

"But they are all useless. Particularly that one with verbal diarrhoea, Pierre or Peter whatever-his-name-is."

"We know that! Naturally they're useless... that's why our target audience loves them. So we want more, not less, verbosity."

"But what about those ghastly daytime programmes?"

"What about them?"

"Couldn't we, you know... spice them up a bit... make them more interesting?"

"Absolutely not! Any tinkering with the sort of dross we put out masquerading as daytime television and we'd alienate our core audience. They love all those dreary women bleating about their menopause... all those chefs with charisma bypasses prattling about how not to ice a First Communion cake... all those sad, sad middle-aged scrubbers bragging about their makeover... which looks as though it came courtesy of Madame Tussaud's, all those winsome singing brats in velvet and plaits, each one proving conclusively that talent is not a prerequisite for appearing on TV, every Eurovision Song Contest contender, lyricist or hanger-on, all those tedious dieting experts and their bloomin' blenders, all those design consultants who aren't fit to decorate a rabbit hutch. That's what our audience love... so let's give it to them... in spades!"

"I get the message, Mr Chairman. What about snot like, er... Teleshopping?"

"Yes, yes Leo... precisely! It's sad, I know, but our audience love it... so let's flood the schedules with Eileen Montesin clones flogging dyspepsia remedies and drain cleaner."

"And talking about Ms Montesin, boss... could we possibly have the nerve to give them another series of Dejjem Tieghek, Becky?"

"Nerve? The punters are literally gagging for it. I suggest whole evenings given over to Becky marathons. If it's junk they want, who are we to gainsay public taste? And while we're on the subject of junk... I think it's time we upped the ante on Tista' Tkun Int."

"How do you mean?"

"Instead of just one quadriplegic child per show... I want to see whole infirmaries full of them, being reunited with their cerebral palsied siblings, before jetting off to Minsk for last-chance surgery... while the audience at home stands a chance of winning a Ferrari or a pizza for two at Pizza-World. Our audience has spoken... And we must listen!"