It's boo-hoo time for me as I'm forced to let go of my most cherished weekend entertainment - Freak Factor.  Currently, I'm utterly loving the "performance" by Alan wowing the judges with his Black or White rendition.  Bless him, he really wants to be a singer.  How in the name of God is he going to accept that this will only happen if Hell freezes over - and even then it's highly unlikely.

It's been an absolute joy to sit back and relish the weeks of triumph and tears as dreams have been paraded conveyor-belt style before the judges to be verified or vilified, often on a whim.  It's been so hard watching people's hopes destroyed, just as it's been wonderful to watch those who have gone on to the next stage.  It's impossible not to share in the sorrow or the delight.  I've shed bucketloads of tears, jumped for joy, or sniggered cruelly, depending upon which poor, desperate soul was currently being exposed to the entire nation as brilliant, special, diabolical or indescribably sad and deluded.

And then there were the judges.  Where was the consistancy?  The fairness?  Why should the dreams and ambitions of thousands of people rest with the moods of four ego-fuelled people, rather than on a clear, structured set of rules and standards?  Today, for instance, 66 year old Granny Gang Bang was put through for heaven only knows what silly reason whilst Two-Tone, a couple of young lads both with potentially very good voices and merely in need of a few lessons in how to duet properly, were turned down.  Where is the logic or consistancy in that? 

But now I can face the future, albeit without the wonderful freaks and wierdo's, by watching the masses of squirming desperado's struggling for survival against the handful of real, hopeful talent for a place in the final.  Sadly, those put through because the judges found them funny/cute/brave/interesting whilst lacking sufficient talent to go any further, will now have their hearts broken after an unnecessary prolonged wait.  The rest will go through to entertain us, live, over the next few months and we, in turn, will find our favourites, establish bonds and empathy, and finally get our chance to scream our approval/disapproval in the final episode.  And, for the lucky winner, there will then follow a brief period of adulation, radio/t.v/magazine interviews, appearance in their home town and Christmas number one - followed, most probably, by  disappearance into the black, black hole by which countless winners of similar talents shows have been consumed, never to be seen again.  Tee Hee.  can't wait!