The National Lottery

By TV Gareth

There are probably several good reasons to critique the National Lottery. Is institutionalised gambling a good idea? Is there really any point because you’re never going to win? Why the fuck is something that could be over within two minutes given 35 minutes of tedious air time, involving premier chunker Eamonn Holmes?

I know some people wish for the days of the old variety shows, where Saturday evening would mean a wholesome bit of light entertainment with singing and dancing and jokes and general merriment. What most people don’t realise, (and if they don’t then they are very lucky), is that the farcical circus act that is the National Lottery is pretty much what they’re looking for. In 1994, the Lottery was unveiled by the Conservative government and hailed as “the most successful innovation of any government for years”. If this is really to be believed then sadly we’ve pretty much elevated Fatty Holmes to the position of cabinet minister.

Now, please don’t think that my criticisms here are even slightly politically or morally motivated. I’m not intelligent enough, nor do I care enough to genuinely think about the implications. This is the critique of somebody who knows full well that when they are older they will be Jim Royle. I don’t like the lottery program because it’s rubbish. Show me the numbers, prove that I’m still not a millionaire and then fuck off. Don’t make me sit through Jetset and have to watch some smug bastard win a trip to the Congo or wherever it is they send them. And don’t make me have to watch some girl who used to be in Atomic Kitten sing her new single. Tell you what, make it a little more interesting, make her have to sing the numbers as they come out? There are so many reasons why this program is completely bad.

It has real people on it. This is always a negative. There are loads of actors so get them on the program. At least they can probably hold a sentence together, or at least read an autocue. It works okay with reality TV because people are left to their own devices. They can do what they want but in this sort of gameshow environment there is a plan to be followed and more than aware of the fact that they are on television, people take the opportunity to try to be clever or funny. They’re at an advantage due to the fact that trying to be funny next to Blobby Holmes is very similar to me standing with Russell Brand in an attempt to seem less like a prick. But still, they fall short. On being ejected from the game, (usually on the basis that they are a complete imbecile), you can nearly hear them thinking, “I’m on TV. I must be funny”. What comedy gem can they impart to us before they have to leave the screen? But in the end they settle for clearing their throat or something.

And it’s never a good idea to do live links with someone who you’ve sent to ‘jetset’ their way a zillion miles from the UK in some country that has seemingly only just got electricity. Big Boy Holmes just gets more and more irate as the contestants, (inevitably dressed up HILARIOUSLY, in the national attire of wherever they’re being tanned), stare intently at the screen as if that’s going to help them hear what he’s saying. And then if they finally do hear his question, by the time they answer it the delay has caused them to start speaking over his next sentence. And he doesn’t like that. He doesn’t really like anything.

And then comes the draw. Normally by this stage, I have to remind myself I’ve not just won a holiday. I wait for the Super Mega Alpha-Draw. Then it’s the Coleman’s Mustard über-draw. Then the Pygmy Only Draw. And then it’s the proper one. The ACTUAL lottery. And then I remember I don’t even play the lottery and haven’t got a ticket but have just sat through all that bollocks. And that’s why I’m sad.